It's Christmas Eve but no one is celebrating. The final battle has arrived. Ginny and Molly wait in agony at the Burrow...what will be their destiny on a night that is supposed to be for miracles?
In Response to Piperstorm's "Blue Christmas" challenge.
Why is it that we take the most important things for granted? The things that keep us alive? Take breathing--we don't notice it. The flow of air from our lungs is what allows us to live, to love. But we don't notice.
Until we stop. Then the absence of air is so pressing, we know we can't take it for granted ever again.
This is a companion to my other pieces, "Last Breaths" and "Last Breaths--Ron's story."
The war with Voldemort is almost over. It has been a long fight and both sides have lost many lives. Who will live and who will die and will goodness triumph over evil?
Ok, so I'm bad at summaries. This is my first fanfic.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny
Horror/Dark, Romance, Angst
Strong Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme,
JOIN HARRY POTTER FANFICTION
Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.