Fan Fiction ❯ Last Hope ❯ 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Through tear blurred green eyes, Harry looked at the once majestic visage of Hogwarts, now only a crumbling ruin. He stood on what remained of the platform where the Hogwarts Express used to arrive and depart, bringing students to and from the famous school for young witches and wizards. That first glimpse of the school was burned into Harry's mind, so mysterious and proud, rising from the dark, nighttime mists of the lake, symbolizing hope, hope for a new life, away from his hated muggle relatives. Now all that was left of the wonderful old castle was a pile of stones.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his painful thoughts and he turned to look at the grim face of Ron Weasley. Despite the red hair and freckles, Ron no longer had the appearance of a smiling, happy child. His hair was long, down to his shoulders, as was Harry's. In the fight for survival, keeping a short, neat haircut just didn't seem like a top priority. Besides, the longer hair helped keep their ears warm on those many nights they were forced to seek shelter outdoors. A scar ran down the left side of Ron's face, along the edge of his jaw, barely touching the corner of his eye. It wasn't all that noticeable, but Harry had known Ron since before all this madness had begun and the scar was only another reminder of how horribly it had all gone wrong. "All right, Harry?" "All right. You?" Ron nodded. "All right. Just a little nervous. What if this doesn't work? What if we can't help them?" "We will. We have to. We can't afford to think like that," came the soft, tired, female voice. Hermione reached out and grasped Ron's hand, squeezing reassuringly. Her adorable face, once so bright and ready to take on the world, was pale and drawn. Her long brown hair was braided into hundreds of tiny braids and pulled back, out of her face. Her brown eyes were no longer sparkly with intelligence and optimism. Now they were the eyes of one who'd seen too much, who had witnessed too many horrors and now harbored only determination with the barest amount of hope. Draco stood behind her, his white-blond hair falling into his face, silver locks over mercury eyes, his mouth set in a grim line, the thin scar across his right cheekbone standing out in stark relief. "Are you all ready?" Hermione asked. Ron and Harry glanced at each other, their faces serious and stoic. "Yeah. We're ready," said Ron. Harry nodded and, closing her eyes, Hermione began the incantation that would take them back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.