This was the moment they prepared for. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin. It was the first match of the year. The day was dark and glum, with not a glimmer of sunlight. Ron had predicted that it would rain, Harry halfheartedly agreed with him.

Harry walked out to the field, along with the rest of his teammates. He had been made Captain, so he walked out towards the center. The familiar girl from the other team met him in the center. She gave a sweet smile, trying to weaken the offense. He looked around, after finding Ron and Hermione in the stands; they had worried looks on their faces. He turned his attention back to the game after Madam Hooch was saying something to him.

They shook hands. The whistle blew. Blurs of color went shooting up towards the sky. Harry looked around for a sign of the tiny Snitch. Bludgers zoomed by his arm. He saw Fred and George go after them. Ignoring them, he instinctively looked towards the Slytherin side. The rain was already pouring and the crowd was already cheering. The pure excitement was fuel for adrenaline.

There on the other side, was the golden Snitch shimmering near the goal post. Harry whizzed off to catch it, but unknowingly he crashed into the other Seeker instead. After regaining posture, he tried to turn his broom around towards Gryffindor, but it wouldn't budge. His broom jerked, stopped and spun, before climbing higher into the storm clouds.

The crowd was already up, staring and pointing. He realized that the other Seeker was also having the same fate with her broom as well. Soon they were up high from the field in the storm clouds. He heard some unrecognizable words from his left, but the thunder and wind carried the voice away.

A sudden jerk from Harry's broom, sent him falling off, he managed to grab the handle of the broom. The broom zigzagged trying to throw the rider off. Another flash of lightning showed that the other wasn't doing much better than he himself was.

She yelled, " Now what!"

"I don't know!" Harry yelled back.

"How much of a chance do we have if we fall?" she screamed back.

"Not much of one!" Harry replied black grimly.

It was getting harder and harder for him to keep a good hold of his broom. The rain, lightning and thunder seemed to turn against him. Suddenly a hot, painful flash went through his body. He felt the horrible pain in his head. He was already falling through the air nearing the ground. He weakly closed his eyes and there was nothing more.

The crowd was pointing at the two limp figures falling towards the ground. Dumbledore, who had come to watch a nice peaceful game, was saying spells and enchantments to soften their impact with the ground. There was a sudden silence in the crowd. Red from both dirtied the muddy grassy ground. The game was stopped.

The players from both teams came slowly towards the bodies, when they got there, they knew there were nothing to do. Most of the players, stood in silence. A few had tears streaming down their faces along with the rain.

They made space for the oncoming teachers and Dumbledore. The pool of blood was forming, the bloods from the two mingled together on the grassy field. Dumbledore avoided the much of the blood; he bent down and checked their pulse. The crowd, teachers and the rest of the onlookers watched with held breaths.

He straightened his posture, before solemnly nodding his head. The tears broke out right then and there. They watched as the two Seekers were whisked away into stretchers and floated gently towards the building. Everyone was mourning in some way. They watched as the sad teachers walked slowly behind the stretchers. They watched as they entered the building, hidden from their view.

The teachers that were left were instructing them to go back to their common rooms. The students obeyed without a word or a complaint. The Gryffindors lounged around in the large room in a very grave fashion. Some were talking in hushed voices. Others were being comforted. All of them were disturbed in some way by the incident. A few already left for their dorms.

Ron and Hermione were sitting next to the fire together. The shortage of numbers left them with an empty feeling. They talked a bit. They didn't dare discuss what happened, it was just plain awful. They talked about the times they had together, how they met and other pieces of information like that. They talked quietly, trying not to ruin the quietness of the room.

This incident made everyone realize how everything could be taken away from you in only a moment's time, how precious and rare life could and can be. It also made other's question the existence of destiny and/or fate. They wondered why things happened they way they happened, was everything out of your reach, or was everything in your control?

Days past and came before they were given a chance to visit their friends one last time to say good bye. Solemnly Hermione and Ron went upstairs to the hospital wing. They carefully opened the door trying to not to disturb the set peaceful silence. They walked in.

Madam Promfrey greeted them seriously at the door. She looked at them. They nodded. She let them off towards a private section of the ward. She stayed by the doorway as she let them in through the door.

Hermione and Ron walked into the room. There was only one other mourner at the ward for the moment. It was the one and only Draco Malfoy sitting there by the bed of Rose Black, in silence. He didn't look up or turn around when they walked in.

For the sake of the unfortunate ones, they let the peace continue on, for they had all came to the same place with similar thoughts. They walked silently to the other bed near the window. That was where Harry Potter lay, silent yet peacefully indescribable.

The coldness of the room was like a dagger taking their breaths away as they walked. They pulled up to chairs with the minimum amount of sound. A white blanket covered his body, as if he was only sleeping. They heard the door closing, but ignored it. They sat there reflecting and thinking.

Outside was a dark cloudy sky. There were no birds chirping or singing their song. It was deathly silent, as if the world stopped to mourn the death. Sadness lurked in the three of which are in the room. There was no wild gifts or anything of the sort. There were many of crisp white letters addressed in red.

A vase of white and red roses were the only flowers in the room. The white walls were blank. The cottony blue curtains were plain, yet simple. This was the time for sorrow.

On the bedside table was envelopes and plain paper with quills and red ink. Instead of gifts, or talk last letters were the way to say good bye. Hermione handed Ron paper and a quill. The only sound heard in the room, did the pen make the soft scratching noise.

They reflected on the happy times. They thought about the times they pulled through together. They wrote about their thoughts for the moment. They wrote about their first meeting and their regrets. The quill pens scratched around writing about what could've happened. They wrote about destiny, fate and life. They wrote about how they were what happened, as if the passed were still alive.

Images passed through their heads; flashbacks were common, lost in thought they wrote. When they were done, the envelopes addressed the pens put back and the letters sealed and placed. They sat there paying their respects. Let peace come and settle.