It was going to happen. Ezra had accepted that from the moment he decided to enter the war. He was going to die. There was nothing that anyone could do about it. He’d repeated it to himself over and over again: that it was for the best cause he knew to exist, that by giving up his life he was likely giving someone else, someone like him, the chance to begin living again.
Now that death was more tangible, however, he found his subconscious doubting the words he’d engraved into his memory. His nonchalant attitude toward death itself seemed to melt away. His unyielding bravery began to falter. He wasn’t ready to die yet. He still had so much left to live for. He was only nineteen-years-old. He hadn’t said goodbye to anyone he loved yet, not even his gram. He could hardly imagine her face when she was informed of his tragic passing. He’d always wanted to go to the Quidditch World Cup, if only to stare at the arses of all of the players he deemed fit. He shook his head, and with it his uncertainties, as he sharply deflected a curse cast at him. What he was doing was the right thing, had always been the right thing. He never even considered another option. This was where he was meant to be.
He could already feel himself ceasing to exist as he cast a stunning spell in what he believed to be the general direction of his opponents. He had fought valiantly, but he was no match for the likes of three Death Eaters. The metallic taste fresh on his tongue, the spotted vision as his eyes searched the room were signs of his already drifting consciousness. It was all sort of poetic, really. If he lived to tell the tale, though he highly doubted he would, he’d have to be sure to word it just right. Another flash of light soared his direction and this time he was not so lucky. His wand flew from his hand, landing feet away from him. He was unarmed.
One man I could take, he thought to himself. Two, on a good day, is no problem. But three… Three was pushing it, to say the least. Three was harder to fend off than he’d anticipated it to be. He looked around the room at the faces he couldn’t recognize. No doubt they’d all gone to school together. They’d dwelt within the same building as him, calling it home for a third of each year just the same as he did. Yet here they were, cornering him to be sure he wouldn’t live to see the sunrise. All because he was different. Different from the three standing before him only to those who cared to look for the slight distinctions between them.
Ezra wished more than anything at that moment that he’d owled someone asking for help when he still had the chance to do so. He figured he could probably repel whoever was coming for him. How wrong he was. He ached all over and found himself wanting nothing more than a cold glass of lemonade. He pushed the abstract thoughts from his mind and muttered to himself, “Accio w-wand.” It was hardly effective, as his wand; fourteen and one half inches, sycamore, phoenix feather core; moved only a few centimeters. Everything began to close in on him. His vision had gone from spotted to nearly nonexistent. Still, he could hear his adversaries. The three were now surrounding him and were speaking in hushed tones.
“Finish him. And no torture, Crabbe… I want to get this one over with. I’m tired,” a female voice said harshly. She stood directly in front of Ezra, the other two flanking her on either side.
The man on her left raised his arm, muttering a curse Ezra knew too well. It had been aimed at him countless times, but this occasion had finality to it. He closed his eyes and let the darkness engulf him. The faces of those who meant the most to him shone clearly behind his eyelids: Oedipa, surprisingly enough his mother, Jonah, and most importantly his gram. Before he permanently left the earth, he let a phrase cross his mind; one that he had repeated to himself an innumerable amount of times: he died for the best cause he knew to exist, and by giving up his life he was likely giving someone else, someone like him, the chance to begin living again. He smiled. In that moment, Ezra was happy. Really and truly happy.
A flash of green. Silence. Darkness. The end.
Alright so basically I’m CONSTANTLY busy with school then play practice then work then sleep then doing it all over again. So at the moment I’m not super duper available. But I’m on as much as I can be and as soon as the play’s over I’ll be able to be on much more, and that’s the end of this month. But for now I’m swamped so. Posting this on all three of my blogs. Okie. Please understand.
I would’ve told you, had I been in the right condition to do so. You’ll have to send an owl to my parents, Peyton, or Rick, if you want anymore information. I am dead, you see, and writing from beyond the grave is pretty hard, as you could imagine. You have to get a special owl and everything. Actually, on second thought, don’t owl the others. I don’t think they’d like that very much.
I’m laughing right now at the thought of all that summer work you still have to do, but I can definitely sympathize. Sixth year won’t be a breeze, by the looks of it. All of these summer reading books are really building up. I have faith in you, though, mate.
I think I may have seen Rosmerta around, actually, but I hadn’t been looking for her specifically. I’ll check next time, if you’d like. It seems like it’d be a fun place to work at, hmm? And thanks, Ez. I hope I make the team. It’d be amazing to be able to play beater next to Marlene McKinnon. And I promise I’ll introduce you to them all, especially the fit ones.
You’ve been baking lately? Now I have the right to complain; you didn’t pick me to be your official taste-tester? I’m offended, dear Ezra. Even a dead person needs to eat, you know. That sounds great with Oedi, though. I hope she’s been well. We should get together sometime, it’s been too long. And I think we’re pretty good at irritating each other, right? So, problem solved. It’d be perfect.
Oh darn, I was almost finished writing that owl to Rick. “Rickard, Your sister’s gone and gotten herself killed. What am I supposed to do now? How do you expect me to pass Potions? - Ezra” Are you sure I can’t send it? He might be quite amused.
I opened my Divination book for the first time today. I’m definitely not looking forward to that class. Least favorite of them all. Who ever needed to tell the bloody future anyway? I think it’s all rubbish, personally. They really are building up. By the time I finally get to work it’ll be the day before school starts and I won’t have nearly enough time for it all.
Oh no, that’s okay. Just wondering if she was still working there. Definitely fun. I bet she gets free firewhiskey all the time. I hope you make the team, too. Fit quidditch players are always a good thing.
I’m always baking, Ivory! You act as if you’ve never even met my Gram before. Okay, you probably haven’t. At least I don’t think you have. But she bakes all the time. Always something new. Muffins, cupcakes, cookies… she likes the sweet treats. I’ll send some brownies your way, we’re making a new batch as I write this. We should! What did you have in mind, love?
How you did you guess? I’m dead, of course. I couldn’t go an entire summer without owling you. In all honesty, this summer’s been pretty uneventful. Rick made sure I did my summer work early, so I’ve finished that, and I’ve been hanging around Hogsmeade lately, mostly. It’s better than staying at home all day. Oh! I also ran into Marlene earlier, and told her I was planning on trying out for the Quidditch team. Rick even agreed to help me practice. I’m so excited, I hope it all goes well. But, enough about me. What have you been up to all summer? Hopefully you’ve been staying out of trouble.
I figured dead was the more likely option. Why didn’t anyone tell me about your funeral? I would’ve loved to attend. Oh, shit. Summer work. Right. Disregard any ideas you got from those comments, my summer work is absolutely finished. And I can tell you where it isn’t. Sitting on my desk, untouched since the end of term. Hogsmeade is always nice. Seen Rosmerta Berton around? She still works at the Three Broomsticks, I presume. Trying out for Quidditch? That’s fantastic! I’m sure you’ll make it, and I promise I won’t miss a single game. So long as you introduce me to all of your fit teammates. Maybe James Potter? I haven’t been up to all that much, just a whole lot of baking with my gram. I’ve been owling Oedi all summer and she’s going to come and stay with me. The only thing keeping me out of trouble is my lack of proper motivation to get into it. I’m too lazy when I’m not in school. Besides, there’s no one here to irritate. Just Gram and the cat. And the cat’s getting too smart for me, anyway.
-Ezra lands his broomstick more smoothly than he expected to, only stumbling a few steps as he hits the ground. He looks around, the area he’s in unfamiliar to him. He walks up to what he believes is Oedi’s door, knocking on it and praying that’s he’s in the right place. As the door opens he’s relieved to see that it’s her who’s done it, a smile spreading across his face.- Oedi! -He drops his broom on the ground before pulling her into a hug.-