Fear-flowing wind whistled through the empty tower, slamming metal into metal...a low, mourning cry that no one remained to hear...
Death rose, tangent in the heavy winter air. The wind wouldn't blow through the blood-slicked streets and never-ending alleys - a twisted sort of respect for the decomposing bodies that littered the ground. Bodies that were prepared to wait for weeks until silent life returned to the war-ravaged town and piled them non-too-gently onto cracking carts. Sweeping them away to the ever-growing pile of death that reached out towards smothering trees and crumbling stone walls.
...the bell tolls thirty-two times...
Hogwarts had once stood, proud, as a place of laughter and learning. A place where children could come and feel safe, no matter the pains they faced beyond her sturdy stone walls.
...the bell tolls fifty-five times...
Now, Hogwarts cried stone tears for her children. Those who lay dead on the grass before her and those that cried over their desecrated bodies. Those who fought with one another over a useless plot of island in a world of suffering and those that had fallen from grace and into the arms of darkness.
...the bell tolls eighty-nine times...
That very darkness which had ripped through her defences and taken her children, using those she had once housed and loved just the same.
...the bell tolls one hundred and seventeen times...
Such is the world where Harry Potter loves Lord Voldemort.
...the bell tolls twice more, then falls into silence...
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