Chereads / Harry Potter: The art of divination / Chapter 215 - I am a coward

Chapter 215 - I am a coward

*innocent Civilian pov* 

My hands trembled my heart felt like it was faster than a snitch, my brain felt frozen and my body bound to the corner I hid in. 

I'm a coward.

Others like me, uninvolved just bystanders to whatever this was were running and screaming. I couldn't my body wouldn't allow me to, I felt trapped. 

"Avada Kedavra," the pale man leading the ones in silver-masked sneered sending a green death bolt right at one of the Aurors 

I watched as one of the Aurors trying to save as many as he could fell to the ground as if he were a puppet with its strings cut. 

"We are losing!" one of the Aurors shouted before more crackling noises filled the air

"BACKUPS ARRIVED!" an Auror bellowed breaking through the noise and alerting his comrades, "HOLD HERE!" 

Before my eyes, a different group wearing masks appeared and started pushing the terrorists back. Even from where I hid I could tell the difference, these new people might not have been as trained as the Aurors but they seemed to be using lethal force. 

And it made all the difference. 

I watched in horror as one of them yelled

"Diffindo!", and a curse sliced through the arm of one of the attackers, sending blood splattering across the cobblestone street. Another spell I couldn't recognize twisted the ground beneath a Death Eater's feet, hurling him into the air, his scream cut short as he crashed with a sickening thud.

One of the masked defenders raised his wand, a bright red jet of light shot out,

"Confringo!" the explosion rocked the area, sending chunks of the wall flying.

The silver-masked figures scattered, their formation broken. The spells they cast-lethal curses, no doubt. 

"What are you doing?!" one of the Aurors shouted at the mercenaries 

"It's self-defense idiot! Do you want to die?" the hit wizard sounded young far to young to be doing this 

Suddenly, a flash of green tore through the air again, "Avada Kedavra!", but this time, one of the newcomers threw up a shield, shouting "Protego terra!" a wall of rock extended upward the killing curse splashing against the shield 

Another figure, short and stubby, hurled a Death Eater into a nearby wall with a powerful "Depulso!", his body crumpling to the ground, motionless. A woman beside him was more methodical-her wand flicked with precision as she muttered "Diffendo!", and deep slashes opened across an enemy's chest.

An Auror near me was hit with a "Crucio!" and collapsed, writhing in agony, his screams echoing in my ears.

It was horrible. 

But I couldn't look away. 

And I honestly don't think the good guys were winning even with the hit wizards. 

Then he appeared.

With a deafening crack, Dumbledore apparated into the chaos, his long silver beard flowing in the wind, his blue eyes burning with quiet intensity. He stood tall, an unshakable pillar of calm amidst the storm of magic and violence. His robes billowed as though he brought the wind with him, and with a single flick of his wand, an invisible wave seemed to ripple outward, pushing back the battle for a moment.

The momentary calm shattered when the man leading the attack stepped forward, emerging from the land of fallen bodies. His pale face twisted in a cold sneer, red eyes gleaming with malice. The air between them seemed to pulse with raw power.

It was terrifying. 

"Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, his voice soft but dangerous, "so predictable."

His voice sent shivers down my spine. 

Dumbledore gave no response, but his wand hand rose in a smooth, deliberate motion. The tension snapped like a bowstring. Voldemort struck first.

"Avada Kedavra!" The killing curse shot toward Dumbledore, a brilliant, green bolt of death. But with a mere flick of his wrist, Dumbledore summoned a fallen piece of wood blocking the curse. 

Without hesitation, Dumbledore retaliated. His wand cut through the air like a maestro's baton, conjuring streams of water from the very ground—"Aguamenti!"—which twisted and spun into a roaring wave, crashing toward Voldemort. But Voldemort, ever the master of dark magic, countered with a firestorm—"Fiendfyre!"—a beastly flame that roared to life, consuming the water with a hiss of steam.

They clashed again, this time with spells I couldn't even begin to understand. Colors I'd never seen flashed across the battlefield. The ground beneath them cracked, the sky above seemed to darken. One moment Dumbledore was summoning tendrils of vines, "vinea hortus!" the next, the dark wizard was hurling jagged shards of stone that cut through the air like knives.

Dumbledore moved with precision that left me in awe, weaving powerful defensive spells with effortless ease. "Fulgari!" he incanted, binding chains of light whipping toward him, but they were met with a brutal "Confringo!", exploding into harmless sparks before they could touch him.

The dark wizard was relentless, thrusting his wand forward, and with a deep, resonant hiss, he conjured blackened serpents of smoke—"Serpensortia!"—which slithered across the battlefield, growing larger and more menacing with every second. They lunged at Dumbledore, fangs bared. But Dumbledore was quicker. His wand moved in a graceful arc—"Oppugno!"—and with that, a flock of silver metal phoenixes exploded from the tip of his wand, diving toward the serpents, tearing them apart in mid-air.

The sheer intensity of their duel shook the very ground beneath us. The masked figures, the Aurors, even the Death Eaters—no one dared intervene. This was a battle of titans, a clash of wills so immense that we were mere spectators, insignificant in their presence.

Suddenly, Voldemort's red eyes gleamed, and with a chilling whisper, he raised his wand high. "Fulgar!" lightning crackled in the sky before it jutted out toward Dumbledore 

Dumbledore transfigured the ground making the earth move like water as it met the lightning head-on blasting the rocks into bits. 

Voldemort's rage was palpable, his face twisting into a snarl. He unleashed a flurry of curses, but Dumbledore parried each with the precision of a master duelist, his wand moving faster than the eye could follow.

Dumbledore summoned a towering wall of flame—"Infernus Aegis!"—cutting off Voldemort's retreat, encircling him in a ring of burning light.

For a moment, it seemed as though Dumbledore had gained the upper hand. But Voldemort simply laughed, his cold, high-pitched laughter sending chills down my spine. With a single, terrifying glance at the bodies strewn about he vanished in a swirl of dark smoke, disappearing into the night.

The terrorists disappeared one by one, they might have 'retreated' but looking around I don't think anyone counted this as a victory. 

So many were dead. 

Just as I allowed myself to believe it was over, a flash of movement caught my eye. One of the Death Eaters, thought to be fallen, pushed himself up from the rubble. His mask was cracked, his robes torn, but his eyes were filled with fury. 

My breath caught in my throat as he raised his wand, his lips curling into a wicked sneer. 

"Avada Kedavra," he hissed.

The words echoed in my head, slow and distorted, as the sickly green light erupted from his wand and streaked through the air. Time seemed to stop.

The curse was headed straight for Dumbledore.

Without thinking—without understanding why, I felt my legs propel me forward. My body moved before my mind could catch up. Every instinct screamed at me to stop, but I couldn't. I couldn't let him die.

The green light filled my vision, so bright it felt like I was staring directly into the sun. My heart pounded in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out over my skin. For a split second, I saw Dumbledore's eyes widen in surprise. Then the impact.

It felt like being hit by a wall of ice, my whole body freezing from the inside out. Pain—sharp, intense, and fleeting—pierced through me. But it wasn't the pain that terrified me. It was the cold. A bone-deep cold that numbed everything.

I hit the ground, my body crumpling like the fallen Auror from before, the world turning dark at the edges. My vision blurred, the colors and shapes of the battlefield swirling together into a messy haze. I could hear my heartbeat slowing, the deafening thud in my ears fading away.

Then, silence and everything faded away.

I am a coward.