The Beginning, Where Inevitability was the Only Possibility
It was a quiet night, the kind you read about in a children’s storybook, the kind that slowly morphs into a nightmarescape, the screeches of the cicadas turning slowly into the screams of the damned until you can’t quite discern what is real from what you perceive. It was one of those nights where the twinkling of the stars no longer seems quite as benevolent as before, where you have to shake off the eerie feeling that something will go horribly, inexplicably wrong every time you hear the faint snapping of a twig behind you. It was on one of these nights that two figures could be seen, barely 10 yards apart, with weapons drawn, their faces set into harsh grimaces.
It was unclear quite how they had gotten there, only that they were there at that moment. There was the weight of tension in the air, crackling as if the two served as conduits for an electric current. Indeed, it may have been electricity, for in that instant a bright flash came forth from the heavens and illuminated their faces, highlighting the stark contrast between the two. There was a girl with dark hair, clad in blue; there was a girl with formerly white bandages wrapped around her forehead, stained red with her own blood. In the milliseconds before the peal of thunder sounded and broke the moment, a realization dawned between them, that there would be no going back, and no time for apologies. And yet, their eyes met, and the first to raise her wand mouthed a silent “I’m sorry,” though it was more of a formality than a promise, and pointed her wand at her foe across the span of grass.
And though she knew it would never be heard, the other girl nodded, as if in acceptance of her fate, and whispered, “I know.”
Rain began to fall, a mere drizzle at first, but it quickly became a downpour. It was not a warm rain, nor was it particularly welcome. Cho's arm quivered, and she opened her mouth to utter the words that would, if correctly executed, undo the damage that had been done. She wanted Marietta to understand just what she had done, just how much this betrayal had hit like a punch to the stomach, and she wanted her to know in the most painful way possible, for Cho was tired of suffering, suffocating alone in her grief. If only a simple incantation could undo the war, could undo Cedric's death, could undo the boy known as Harry Potter, could-
And Cho's concentration was momentarily broken, just enough to disrupt the pent-up rage that she had been channeling from her core, through her arm, and into her wand, where it would've transformed into a magnificent flash of light, not unlike the lightning of a few minutes earlier. The spell changed, ever so slightly, as it left the tip of her wand, and seemed to fizzle out into thin air. At first, nothing happened, and Cho raised her wand again as if to examine it for damage, only to feel a sharp, gut-wrenching pain not a breath later. As quickly as it had appeared, the pain was gone, and with it went something small, something that would've gone completely unnoticed in any other given instance.
A few feet away, Marietta gave a small shriek and collapsed. Cho turned quicker than she thought was humanly possible, yet time appeared to stall as she watched her former friend's body fall to her knees, eyes wide with something Cho couldn't quite identify, before hitting the ground with a dull thud. In that instant, it was completely silent, save for the frantic beating of Cho's heart in her chest, and she felt something inside her shatter past the point when one could pick up the shards and repair it.
After that, Cho felt nothing. It wasn't the numbness she had felt after Cedric. There were no nagging voices inside her head that told her that he wasn't really dead. There were no tears on her face, and there was no slow drip of poison as she began to tear herself apart, piece by piece. No, this was different. She couldn't quite place it, but now was not the time to be contemplating that. Right now, she needed to get away, before anyone found out what had happened, but the rain outside would be a dead giveaway if she returned to the castle soaking wet.
An easy fix, she thought, forcing herself to avoid thinking about the body by her feet. After all, who would question a Ravenclaw in good standing? You can't run from the consequences of your actions, but no one ever said you couldn't walk. And so, without a second glance behind her, Cho began to do just that, barely even registering the cold that had set into her bones and a wand that felt slightly heavier than normal. Cho felt nothing, and right now, that meant everything.