Post by Peyton Sawyer on Feb 15, 2006 19:30:53 GMT -4
A Different Yesterday
Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the year he defeated Lord Voldemort in the Final Battle, ending the fear running through the hearts of the wizarding community for the second time in a row. The victory in favor of the Order of the Phoenix came with a price however, the deaths of many of its members. Tears streamed down grimy cheeks as exhausted victors tried to smile, but failed, the bodies of their fallen comrades tainting their triumph over the Dark Lord and his minions. The day after the Final Battle, the day thousands of wizards around the world celebrated was the day that the soldiers that protected the innocent buried their dead. The memories they remembered as they looked into the still faces of their comrades were more than some of them could bear, and the weight of guilt settled on their chests as they tried to move on, but this time, as Heroes. They set of to rebuild what was left of their lives, to fill the hours that had once been filled with spying or training with other activities, activities they hadn’t been able to enjoy for years.
For one particular boy, the one who had finally watched his enemy die, the glowing red eyes fade away to a pale opaque; he finally felt a sense of ease. For the first time in his life he didn’t have to constantly look over his shoulder, constantly be afraid for the friends he had grown so close to. For him, the victory was bitter, now that Voldemort was gone his days seemed to be filled with memories of those that had died because of him, and although it didn’t seem possible his hatred for the now deceased man filled his waking hours, along with even more dark memories of those who had died for the cause. He seemed to be able to find a different thing that was his fault every day, and he shut out the happiness that was surrounding him, becoming more and more withdrawn as time went on. His startling green emerald eyes, the one thing he had inherited from his mother were haunted now, they seemed to turn glassy when he sat alone, a scene replaying in front of him that only he could see. It seems that once again Harry needs his friends more than anything to help him get back on his feet, to help in care again about the life that’s passing him by, except he refuses to talk. He refuses to burden once again with the worries of The Boy Who Lived. He wants to take this alone, take the pain alone. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks, before everything around him shatters, but they need him. The wizarding community needs him, there’s a new threat that only he has the power to stop. They all know he’ll be able to, they saw the power rip from his wand to defeat Voldemort, and the only question is if he’ll want to go through it all again.
Draco Malfoy never became a Death Eater for Lord Voldemort before his downfall, even though he considered it. After the Final Battle, after the death of his father and the first sickness of many for his mother made him reconsider what he really wanted to do. Sure, he was the Slytherin boy that had tormented students at Hogwarts for years, but that didn’t mean he had to continue once he graduated. Somehow Draco Malfoy became the youngest Minister of Magic ever, some speculate his methods were not entirely legal, but the population, in good spirits after regaining their freedom were willing to give him a chance, even if his father was one of Voldemort’s most trusted Death Eaters.
Ginevra Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and the other students that took part in the Final Battle all lived to tell the tale, a few of them felt a undeniable sense of guilt, more than one of them had survived because an older Order member had chosen to sacrifice themselves. They’re young though, in their prime of their lives and just a few years out of school, and they want to forget the fear and uncertaintly of the past and simply have fun, carefree fun that they had almost forgotten existed. They notice Harry’s pain, more than one is ashamed to admit that they want to ignore it, they don’t want to be reminded of that night anymore than he does. The Dark Lord is gone, why wallow in regrets?
There is a new threat, a darkness that eats away at the edges of a prosperous wizarding community rebuilding what they lost. There are those who seem to know more than they’re telling, including Mr. Potter. Then there are those who refuse to believe that anything is going on, which includes the rest of the wizarding community as they try to hold on to the last shreds of happiness before they are plunged into darkness once again. The details of this new threat are few; the culprits behind it are unknown. A few mysterious deaths, which people brush off as coincidence or simply accidents occur, a few disappearances. Can the previous Order of the Phoenix come together again to defeat this new threat before it’s too late, or will the members refuse to risk their lives now that they all have families, and jobs? Will the rest of the wizards and witches believe that there is actually something to fear?
Most of all, will Mr. Harry Potter come to his senses, before everything that he knows and loves is destroyed?
