Drabbles: To Rise From the Ashes
Title: To Rise From the Ashes
Summary: From the ashes of hopelessness and despair, great heroes are born.
Notes: This is a set of four drabbles (100 words each) relating to the death of the Potters and Voldemort’s subsequent fall. A drabble each for Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore's POV.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world do not belong to me.
Little Harry couldn’t understand that his playmate and friend was gone forever. Then that same shrill laughter overcame Lily’s pleading cries with a jet of eerie green light. Embrace cold and heavy, she slumped to the ground and from Harry’s view, despite his own persistent screams after he was ripped away from her.
Why didn’t she hold him and make everything better?
One second was all it took to shatter his life into a million pieces.
One murderous blast brought the sky falling at full speed on all hopes and dreams. One explosion sent the walls crashing down burying precious loved ones, leaving his betrayed heart bare and vulnerable like the stripped foundation.
Sirius stared at the street’s dark hole where Peter had escaped. He dimly took in the carnage and terrified screams around him. There was no road ahead; all was lost-because of him. Yet as his manic laughter filled the air, all he heard was his own world falling apart.
It just didn’t make sense. Loyal and brave Sirius, hopeful James and Lily, and Peter- they were all gone. Remus couldn’t believe it. He was the cursed one.
He clung hard to the memories where his friends’ eyes burned with the energy and determination of youth.
Now three lay cold and dead and one was locked away, as good as dead. With one last look, Remus finally saw how solemn death had engulfed the light in the Potters’ eyes. Only then did he realize that he was left alone, and more alone than ever before. He swallowed hard.
Wizards everywhere celebrated the fall of evil, but wise Albus Dumbledore heaved a tired sigh as he waited. Two of his greatest students, his warrior children, had paid the ultimate sacrifice. They needn’t have died-they were so young and hopeful, so brave-so devastating.
Yet Dumbledore had always known the cost of destroying evil would be high. He knew the sea of blood would still rise higher and wash more brave souls with the current.
Then came Hagrid with the boy, risen from the ashes of darkness and despair. Dumbledore’s passionate eyes burned with renewed light. Yes, there was still hope.