HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

[anythingbutgrey]

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Harry Potter Non-Canon Ships Comment Ficathon

THE RULES ARE THUS:

1. WHAT MAKES A NON-CANON SHIP? Anything that is not at least one-sided in the books. This means that Snape/Lily is canon, even if she may (or may not) have ever reciprocated. Bellatrix/Voldemort is canon. Lavendar/Ron is canon. Obviously everyone who's married and/or dates is canon. OBHWF is canon, Harry/Cho is canon. Ships that are not stated as fact in the books are not canon. That means UC ships are good, slash is good, femslash is good. For our purposes, we are not counting JKR's interviews as canon. That means that if you wanted to prompt, say, who knows, Hannah/Neville, you could, because it's not in the text itself.

2. You leave a comment with a pairing and a prompt. You respond to prompts that you like. Your prompt must pertain to a non-canon ship. You may specify a character within that ship if you want the fic written from that characters perspective. You may also specify a timeline if you'd like, or if you want it to take place in the movie!verse.

3. When writing fic, put in your title SHIP - TITLE OF FIC (rating optional). This will help us archive if we later archive things. I don't have time to archive anything right now, but if someone wants to volunteer, we can make that happen.

4. LEAVE FEEDBACK. Comments are the lifeblood of the internet.

5. NO WANK. I'll delete your ass. And we're dealing with ships and I am deletion happy, so watch yourself.

6. There will be spoilers for the movie all over this post, I am sure. You have been warned.

7. Promote this if you please. You can use this code:

For text link:

<center><a href=http://anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com/774727.html>HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON</A></center>

<center><a href=http://anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com/774727.html><img src=IMAGE CODE HERE></A></center>

In the image code box, you can use any of the banners below or the lead banner at the top of the post.



They're all uploaded to tinypic, so you can just copy/paste the source code:

by eleusis_walks

by superkappa

by lenina20:








If you want to make your own banner, please post it here.

Have fun!

ETA:

effingeden has graciously offered to archive our prompts and fic here. Thanks so much!

Comments

IS THIS SHIP CANON OR NOT?

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

Ask here if you're not sure.

Re: IS THIS SHIP CANON OR NOT?

[littledivinity.livejournal.com]

Can we request threesomes?

Like, can I request Harry/Ron/Hermione even though Ron/Hermione is canon?

QUESTIONS/COMMENTS/GENERAL THOUGHTS

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

Go here.

Re: QUESTIONS/COMMENTS/GENERAL THOUGHTS

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

I have been waiting all day =D

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Bellatrix Lestrange/Narcissa Malfoy - there's nothing i wouldn't do anymore

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Seamus Finnegan/Dean Thomas - in our bedroom after the war

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Minerva McGonagall/Tom Riddle - he's my first mistake

[lizzibabe.livejournal.com]

You have broken my brain...

[littledivinity.livejournal.com]

Voldemort/Grindelwald; take a bite of me, show me your teeth, let me see you're mean

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny, I think I'll be brave, starting with you

[infinitegraces]

I'm staking my claim on this one.

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Molly Prewett/Lucius Malfoy - arthur and narcissa never knew but always suspected

Drabble Fill Molly/Lucius - Untitled

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

She hesitated outside the Prefect’s Bathroom. He was in there. She wanted to turn away, keep walking, meet with Arthur in the Common Room… but something in her tugged her to the bathroom. A shared look this morning, a brush of fingers in Potions. He was always subtle when he was trying to get something from her.

She hated how he didn’t even have to try hard to get her where he wanted her.

She hated him. He hated her, she was very sure of it. But… that elegance. That danger. That tongue…

She opened the door and stepped inside.

><><><><

Hope you liked - might extend

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Sybill Trelawney/Firenze - stranger things have happened

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Oliver Wood/Marcus Flint - catch me if you can

[themirrorofsin.livejournal.com]

Pansy/Theodore - the outsider

[ladysophiekitty.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione You're a part time lover and a full time friend

[azure-horizon.livejournal.com]

I love this quote... Think I shall claim it. Give me a few days.

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny, I may be soft in your palm but I'll soon grow hungry for a fight

[sydneygirl90.livejournal.com]

I'm gonna claim this one. I'll try to have it done tonight. :)

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Parvati Patil/Charlie Weasley - face it, weasley, we're the two most attractive people in this bar

Parvati/Charlie; things that make you feel better

[ceridweyn-lin.livejournal.com]

There's a girl staring at him with a do-I-know-you look on her face. Full disclosure, he's staring right back. Because he's definitely seen her before, seen her somewhere, until it hits him that the last time he saw her was cradling a barely-stirring blonde girl with a bloody face and whispering healing charms frantically, and by then Charlie thinks he should look away.

He remembers how Hermione had also gone over to the girl and her friend, and conjured a stretcher and gone with them to the makeshift infirmary that had sprung up. He'd been watching then, and he remembers how bloody her hands were.

She walks over, and even in the dim light of the bar he can see the edges of a healing welt over her collarbone. It's only been a month since everything happened, after all.

"I, um," she swallows. "I'm Parvati. You're one of Ron's brothers, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I am." He says. "Charlie. Er- the one that works with dragons."

"Right," Parvati says, and settles onto a bar stool next to him. There's some music playing in the background, and dancing people all around, but not them and Charlie wonders the odds of running into another witch in a Muggle bar.

"How is your friend?" he asks. Parvati's eyes darken a bit, but she doesn't seem otherwise upset at the question.

"Lav's fine," she says. "Physically, at least. Mentally..."

She lets the words trail off, and Charlie adds, "but we're all a little fucked up there, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Parvati mutters, and then, "I'm sorry about your brother Fred. He always made me laugh. And he was very kind too."

"Thank you," Charlie says, and he has to offer: "let me buy you a drink."

"Okay," Parvati says. "Let's see what they have here."

So maybe they get a little drunk, and maybe she wakes up the next morning in warm bed in a slightly dusty flat, one solid, muscular arm slung around her.

"Hey," she says, and he smiles back at her.

"I didn't mean for that to happen-" Charlie says, but far from taking offense, Parvati laughs a little bit, surprising even herself.

"Well Weasley," she says, "we were the two most good-looking people in that bar."

Charlie grins a bit more, and offers to take her out for breakfast.

To be honest, she feels better than she has in weeks.

[zauberer-sirin.livejournal.com]

Sirius/Lily - you're a rock and roll suicide

Sirius/Lily; breath of your last cigarette

[littledivinity.livejournal.com]

There are a lot of warnings and cautions I could post before you read this, but I'm going to try to avoid self-deprecation. By pointing out that I would like to be self-deprecating. HERE IS SOMETHING I WROTE TODAY.

--

Lily finds him where he usually is when he’s without his pack; she doesn’t know if Remus and James don’t know he comes here, or if -- more likely -- they know he does it when he needs to be alone. But she is neither brother nor lover nor blood, and she doesn’t leave him alone just because he’s tucked tail.

He glances up at her, the moonlight always seeming brighter than normal against the dark, unwashed stones of an abandoned turret. The end of his cigarette flares with the deep drag he pulls from it, holding the smoke in his lungs so his chest puffs out, his eyes narrowing. She folds her arms across her chest, her spine straightening just so. The stream of smoking drifts from his lips, curling and carrying away with the wind.

“Blossom,” he acknowledges her, a nod of his head, his black hair shaggy enough to fall across his forehead.

“Mongrel,” she says, but there’s affection in each syllable, and the tension in her muscles begins to query if it can lessen.

“James’ll be looking for you,” he says, idly tapping the cigarette against a window sill, ashes fluttering to the ground far below.

She shrugs her shoulders, unfolding and leaning on the other side of the window, cold stone a harsh bite against her hip. “You, me, Remus, Peter, he’s always tracking someone down. The moon is full, he’s probably got his mind on something else.”

She waits for the twitch and flutter, the sharpening of his jaw when she mentions it. She wonders if anyone else realizes exactly why he surrounds himself with cold air and stamped out cigarette butts on these nights. It must be easier, being surrounded by boys, who desire simplicity and ignorance.

Lily holds out her fingers, the silent request a familiar one, and he begrudgingly passes the cigarette to her. She pulls the acrid, burnt paper taste into her mouth, the absent heat of it still unfamiliar.

“He’ll smell it on you,” Sirius says, still watching her with a hint of uncertainty.

She releases the stream of grey to the night. “Do you think I don’t smell it on him?” She asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.

It seems to quell him, so she takes another drag and hands it back, curling her dry tongue back on itself.

“You can have your own,” he offers, reaching for the pack. She shrugs. That’s not really the point, and she thinks he realizes it on some level.

He finishes it while she watches the moonlight on the lake, and it’s too cold to be out here, but she’s too stubborn to leave. And there’s something, something to being out here with him, the two of them. The five of them, none of them, are ever alone, it always seems a group. Even with James, they’re usually tucked into each other while Sirius, Remus, or Peter (or all three) sits across from them, and James shares himself with four people not one. She doesn’t mind, doesn’t pretend she didn’t realize what the reality was before she embarked on it. But there’s an intimacy she craves, a quiet desire for these moments shared alone and silent with another person.

He drops the butt to the ground, pressing it beneath the toe of his boot, the movement slipping him closer to her, until she can smell him: the lingering petrol from his motorcycle, butterbeer and tobacco on his breath, the hint of worn leather. She knows that if she tucks her nose into his neck, near the beginnings of his hairline, he’ll smell a little like his animagus form, a hint of puppy in the curl of his perspiration.

Sirius lifts a hand and curls it around her neck, hot and callused on the thin skin of her throat. When he leans in and kisses her, it’s not unexpected, it’s not shocking, it’s just Sirius. Warm, a little scratchy, dry and smoky. She kisses him back, because there’s not a part of her in denial about what he and James are, what he and Remus are, what they all somehow are, in their woven web of love and trust. Because kissing him is an extension of James, and even if it’s wrong, it’s intrinsically right.

[themirrorofsin.livejournal.com]

Charity/Severus - You hate everything about me, so why do you love me?

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

was just about to prompt charity/severus, ilu <3

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Narcissa Malfoy/Lady Zabini - roman holiday

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, temporary battles can take up half your life

[canneverbe.livejournal.com]

I have got a crush on this. It really fits them.

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Sirius Black/Andromeda Black - together alone

Sirius Black/Andromeda Black -Dignity

[smjosh1218.livejournal.com]

Sirius looked over to Andromeda. It was always like this, after. he would watch her and notice the similarities between them. the way their hair always got messy, the way they would both act like this wasn't anything, that it wasn't so fundamentally wrong. They were Blacks, they were dignified.

"What do you think they'd say?" Sirius had never had the nerve to ask before. But he wondered.

Andromeda smiled, a tiny half smile that would only light up her eyes.

"Does it matter? We're not like them, Sirius. You and me, we know better... we are better."

Sirius nodded and stared at the ceiling again. She was right. They would continue, and one day, they would leave.

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny, speak now or forever hold your peace in pieces

Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley-Keeping Quiet

[magic-knickers.livejournal.com]

I hope you like it!

Hermione invites you to dinner at the Burrow sometimes, mostly because she thinks that you spend too much time by yourself. You prefer being alone than doing whatever this masochistic thing you're doing to yourself is, though.
Hermione is at your left and Harry is directly in front of you. Ginny, of course, is sitting to the left of him, as if all of you form two perfectly placed couples. Then again, Ron is on the other side of Hermione and you're mostly left to fend for yourself.
You're not a particularly angry or violent person, but when you catch the glint of the little diamonds on Ginny's finger--the one on her left hand between the pinkie and social finger--your own hand clenches tightly around Molly’s precious, pearl-inlaid knife. It takes too much willpower not to give into the urge to stab something with it.
Hermione gives you a look, and its one that holds knowledge that she shouldn't have. She's always been too observant for her own good.
"You didn't know?" she whispers out of the corner of her mouth, evidently surprised, "It was all over the Prophet this morning." A shrug is all you can manage. You haven’t read the Daily Prophet since fourth year, when Harry and Hermione were plastered all over the front page.
After a moment's pause, she goes on, saying, "I think you should tell her." You don't bother to say to her that you don't care what she thinks.
The little voice in your head that makes you believe that maybe the Sorting Hat was right silently agrees, but it's crushed almost immediately by a wave of pure, unadultered self-loathing. How could you even try to break them up?
Harry whispers something in his fiancée’s ear, a smile in his bottle-green eyes. Ginny just laughs, her own eyes never once leaving his face.

[themirrorofsin.livejournal.com]

Pansy/Blaise - the sky is burning

Pansy/Blaise - The Sky Is Burning (R)

[lusimeles.livejournal.com]

In the darkness Blaise is beautiful, black skin blending with black night, and Pansy presses slow kisses over the finely-boned contours of his face with studied aplomb. He makes her wonder about beauty - even as a boy, he did; even as a boy he was ethereally handsome - about the smoothness of skin and thickness of lips and symmetry of faces. Draco, poor Draco, has a faintly sneering sort of appeal when he squares his shoulders and looks down at them all with his cool gray eyes, but her boyfriend and Blaise Zabini are leagues apart when it comes to physical beauty. Pansy too, is down further still; whatever attractiveness she has managed to muster for herself resides in mascara charms and carefully chosen fabrics, in skipped meals and hours spent bleary-eyed over the girls' toilet. That Blaise Zabini has chosen to spend his nights with her, then, is something that fills her chest with a rather greedy sort of joy, a simmering self-satisfaction that allows Pansy to purr drunkenly over the curve of his shoulder as he thrusts inside her. She relishes the way the heat travels over her body like a great big shrudder, the way the room briefly evaporates into nothingness and she is left, even for a few seconds - to witness the burning of the sky, before everything comes back into focus again, somehow lesser than before.

"That's three times tonight," Blaise murmurs, after he has finished with his own release, only seconds later.

"Want a trophy or something?"

He laughs against her neck, the warm breath almost ticklish against her exposed skin. "I probably deserve one. But then your boyfriend probably wouldn't be too happy if he saw an 'I Made Pansy Fucking Parkinson Come Three Times And Counting In One Night' award hanging from my neck."

"He's gone now, anyway." Something like guilt twists in her chest; Pansy very adamantly does not think of the last time she saw Draco, or of the sight of the Dark Mark still burnt oh-so-brightly against the tender underbelly of his too-thin forearm, eyes wide and terrified and fifty years too old. He hadn't even said goodbye, and in retrospect, neither had she. "I don't even know if he's coming back.

"What will you do when he does?"

"What will any of us do?"

Blaise shakes his head. "You know that's not what I mean," he says, and untangles his legs from hers. He's right; she does, and yet she doesn't want to acknowledge anything of the sort. She has spent too long thinking of Blaise as a mere object, as the one to-be-looked-at, to-be-possessed. That he might want to genuinely possess her - this is a whole terrifying other matter altogether. Pansy thinks of him, so seemingly haughty and disdainful of just about everything in the daylight, and so unexpectedly candid underneath his robes - is it all a mask, then? Or this all a game, all a ploy, to get into the knickers of the lone Slytherin seventh year the rest of them all thought no-one other than Draco Malfoy could have?

She will have to figure this out later, when she isn't spent and sweaty with her hair an uncombed pillow around her head; there must be a logical way of looking at the facts and making sense of this whole thing so that her heart gets little broken as possible. Instead of responding, Pansy hooks her ankle around Blaise's shin and, sliding her hands down the parallel slopes of his hipbones, presses her mouth first against the dip of his bellybutton before moving down, down, down. His hips buck against the curve of her lips, and Pansy readies herself for the taste of sweat and salt.

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Bellatrix Lestrange/Lucius Malfoy - my sister's keeper

Bellatrix/Lucuis - Keeping Faith (R)

[venacavaa.livejournal.com]

This kind of turned out to be Bellatrix/Lucius with some underlying Bellatrix/Narcissa, my apologies. Rating to be safe (and to compensate for if-you-squint incest).

She might not be the greatest person to walk this tortured earth, but that aside, Bellatrix likes to think that she’s been there for Narcissa when she’s needed her. And when she hasn’t. Or when she has and didn’t realize it or couldn’t bring herself to swallow her pride long enough to ask for help. It’s quite a predicament they meddled themselves into—this occasional inability to connect.

They grow apart as they grow older; many sisters do, it’s hardly an isolated tragedy in this world anymore.

But then he comes into the equation, and Narcissa is undeniably caught up in him that she shows him off to whoever is within a ten-foot radius. And sure as the sunset, Bellatrix is one of the first to meet him (officially, that is, because really, there are only so many purebloods and then there are fewer evil purebloods so he’s no stranger).

He becomes infinitely more familiar after their first "official" meeting. Hushed whispers in a spare bedroom, removing the protective spells from around the room—they weren’t missed, they’re sure. Family holidays in the Black household were far from mundane.

“I don’t like you, as I’m sure you already know,” she hisses, straightening her clothes.

He steps closer, grabbing her chin none too gently. “Good. There’s no longer a thriving army of us and so as much as civility is desired, we cannot stand to have the families divided.”

She raises an eyebrow, scowling. “You don’t deserve her, you know.” This was not the desired consequence from this small crime, but Bella knew full well ahead of time that good intentions are the building blocks of hell’s realm. And those selfish undertones tainting her good intentions do nothing to help her condemnation.

“Neither do you,” he bites back, running a hand over his hair. “You can’t keep her forever.”

A bitter feeling rises up in Bellatrix’s throat, “I can try. And I can kill you if you ever hurt her.”

With a smirk, Lucius replies, “Ah, I would expect nothing less, sister.”

The urge to slap him sweeps over her unexpectedly, but the silencing spell on the room has already been retracted, and that’s not the kind of scene she wants to cause right now. The feeling passes as a fleeting memory.

"Careful, you haven't married into the family just yet. There's still time to change her mind." She stands, wiping at the edges of her lips to manage her smeared lipstick, and she walks out of the room, door slamming shut behind her—cutting off Lucius' smart-assed, "Have you seen the way she looks at me?"

With resignation, she silently overturns her personal mission of Narcissa’s protection to him, begrudgingly of course.

In Bella’s mind, he’ll never be good enough for her sister. Nobody will, and she knows that she will never be deserving of Narcissa. But she wants to keep her sister safe, and sleeping with Lucius was supposed to do that—prevent such a snake such as him from entering Eden.

But Bellatrix will never be perfect.

The only thing that comforts her is the knowledge that Lucius was good even to her during the time they had to together, and maybe there’s hope for him (and her sister) after all.

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny, in your ocean, I'm ankle deep, I feel the waves crashing on my feet

What We Want

[lunasol28.livejournal.com]

Love is painful. There is pain, pain and more pain.

But it doesn't stop her. It doesn't stop her from pounding on his door in tears asking what happened. It doesn't stop her from saying that whatever he needs, whoever he needs her to be that she'll be it.

She'll be quite, she'll be loud. She'll be what he needs, she'll be everything if he just gives them another try.

He is her fairytale. He is her prince who saved the world and came back for her. She was the girl, she was the girl that sat and waited patiently. The girl who held her own while she waited for him. She did everything that she was supposed to.

Ginny was the girl but somehow she didn't end up with the boy.

And it doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense because this isn't how the fairytale goes.

Her knees are pulled up to her chest as she sits on the small bench. She can't remember how long it's been since she moved but she doesn't think she can move anyway so it doesn't matter.

"Ginny?"

For one second she thinks that it's him. For one second she believes that he's come to save her again but it's not him.

"Ginny?"

"Go away, Neville." Her voice is scratchy from all of her crying.

He sits down.

"Neville."

He stays seated and for some reason it makes her lip tremble. It makes fresh tears fall from her eyes and her head drop to his shoulder.

"How did it all go so wrong?"

He lifts his arm and wraps it around her shaking shoulders, tucking her into his side.

"Sometimes you can want something so bad, Gin, sometimes you can want it so bad but it doesn't make a difference."

She snuggles into his side. For the first time she thinks that she can move. She feels safe and for some reason his thumb rubbing circles into her side makes her feel wanted.

"I just wanted him to love me."

"I know Ginny, I know."

She doesn't see the small tear run down his cheek or the look on his face. Neville knows exactly how Ginny feels because he's not the boy and never has been.

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, my mouth is a confessional cannon, run away from me with the most reckless of abandon

Harry/Hermione - the geography of anniversaries

[fated-addiction.livejournal.com]

The cliffs are the same. There's a bit of gray that stands alone over the rocks and she remembers, almost fondly, the tent standing alone

"Anyone follow?" Harry asks, when he arrives; she doesn't turn, merely shrugging her acknowledgment. She and Ron don't talk this time of year. No one asks questions and that remains to be some kind of safe haven for herself, for her mind.

She slides her hands into her jacket. "What about you?"

His boots scuffle when he comes to stand next to her. Together they stand, overlooking the water. It's entirely too calm, she thinks. But then she laughs, shaking her head.

"I can't believe we still come here."

Harry chuckles. "A reminder, I suppose."

"Of what?" she interjects. Her gaze meets his, and then she looks away, down and over her shoes. "You're perfectly happy. Your children are lovely. Mine are lovely. And we're all still ... we are here."

Harry makes a soft sound, but says nothing. The tension sharpens at his shoulders though, tough and taunt. He stands straighter, peering down at her and it's all sort of odd, sometimes, how they both still look at each other.

"I think about it," he confesses then, slowly. He pauses and looks around, turning then to step around her. When she shifts, she shifts back into his space and he flushes almost immediately. "What you said," he murmurs. "About staying. Here."

His head jerks back and her gaze follows, back into the woods. The trees are high and gray. A few miles off, she remembers a small village hidden from view. Wouldn't it be nice? She remembers asking too.

"Do you ever think -" he stumbles into the question and she blinks, her throat tightening. Don't, she thinks. Don't. She's already made peace with everything. Her choices. Her decisions. Her marriage and inevitable reasoning. There are no regrets. She isn't seventeen anymore.

"All the time," she says still. It's not a confession. She looks away too, almost ashamed. Taking a deep breath, she lets her gaze focus on the water. "All the time," she says again.

They're quiet again. Harry's hand goes to her arm, clasping it at the elbow. She feels his fingers drag against it and then down, back over her wrist. She opens her hand and their fingers tangle together. He gives her a little tug and she lets herself take that step.

It's as simple as this: Hermione takes a deep breath and it's quiet, too quiet as his head lowers and she meets him halfway. Her mind is littered with always and i know and it's not to be said. Instead, she opens her mouth against his, slowly and carefully. His fingers slide into her hair too and he pulls, tenderly first, and than as if he needs her too much. She is too close and too mindful; her arm drapes over his waist over his hips all the same. She can still taste her morning tea, and perhaps Harry's, Ginny's really. There is the sweetness of Rose's jam, the bit that they finished off together early this morning.

All of that, all of that falls away quickly and selfishly, far beyond a what if; Hermione is kissing him.

Harry kisses back.

(and back to the other story, lol. ♥)

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Charity Burbage/Severus Snape, severus, please

Charity Burbage/Severus Snape -- Thinking Of You

[sarcasticsra]

He doesn't think of Charity Burbage.

He doesn't think of her preference for coffee over tea, the way she insisted on reading multiple Muggle newspapers every single day, the way she always passed him the first scone out of the bunch during breakfast every morning. He doesn't think of the way she smiled when he asked why she bothered and she told him that he should start the day off on the right foot.

He doesn't think of how she was always the first one waiting in the staff room for meetings, even when he left early to get there first, solely so he could claim his preferred chair by the fireplace. He doesn't think of how she always saved that chair for him anyway.

He doesn't think of the way her eyes would light up when she got a new Muggle book or electronic or other inanely Muggle item, the way she'd go on about the science and the mechanics or the history and the importance to Muggle culture. He doesn't think about how pleased she'd be when she actually managed to interest him.

He doesn't think of her intelligence, her kindness, her warmth, but most of all, he doesn't think of her, not even when she's suspended in front of him, begging him to help her, reminding him of their friendship.

He stares, and he watches as the Dark Lord kills her, and he thinks of nothing.