Authors note: I was inspired today, actually by another great fanfic which somewhere beheld such a list. And I came to think about it. Okay, so my story begins 5 years after the great battle, which (of course) took place in the 7th book (which unfortunately has not been written yet). So all people included are (hopefully) in the character they got up to book 5. Still I do not own any of them. JKR does and always will. Oh and sorry for the list of the people I killed off. So, on with the show!
Cornelius Fudge was fearful today, as he was always these days. In those five fateful years he had lost quite a lot of weight, not due to a diet of any sorts. His hair had prevented from going white only by falling out. His eyes had become smaller, and a nervous habit of twitching his left lid had taken on. He felt like a clown mostly, still in his once well-liked clothes, even his lime-green bowler had remained. Though it could not hide the persona of a man who had in his fear cowered and so doomed the whole wizardkind. He was the man who had stepped beside and let Voldemort take the chance to reign again, even more powerful than 22 years before. And he knew it. Oh yes, he did. As did his employees. Some admired him. Some hated him. Most pitied him. But all of them would have done the same, if they had faced the decision.
In his twitching hands he held a paper containing the names of all those who had opposed the Dark Lord. Who had stood and fought against him. Who could (by any means) not be convinced to join. Who had lost friends, family members and body parts to a fight not to be won. Who were forced to hide, disguise themselves, live in the muggle world. Who were hunted down, not only by the death eaters (who were the elite these days) but also by ministry officials (who did as they were told to). Who knew they could never suceed and still fought on, having nothing left to loose except for their lives, which did not seem to matter much any more. Who if they were caught would face a torture after which Avada Kedavra would seem like a sweet blessing.
In his other hand he held the second list. It held the names of those foolish heroes who had already died for a cause that would never again be. A list of wizards and witches who had given their best, fought like true heroes, shunned no pain to suceed...and had failed. And his hand trembled slightly, because he knew...knew that this list was much longer, that there were names on it that once had symbolized hope. And that each name more on it meant a dimmishing of the little spark of hope he still held. Most of them held. Being too cowardly, too much afraid, to do anything themselves...except for hoping.
He tried not to, but still his eyes reread the names on this list, unable to keep from seing facts he knew by heart already. Those neatly written names, alphabetically ordered, with a single word written over them "DECEASED"
Chang, Cho
Delacour, Fleur
Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian
Figg, Arabella
Filch, Argus
Hagrid, Rubeus
Longbottom, Serena
Pomfrey, Poppy
Potter, Harold James
Shacklebold, Kingsley
Tonks, Nymphadora
Weasley, Bill
Weasley, Charlie
Weasley, George
Weasley, Molly
Weasley, Ronald
The parchment fell onto the floor. He had let it drop, his hands had been shaking so badly. Better pick it up quickly or the Dark Lord would be mad. His back ached as he bent downwards, he was getting old and tired. He picked up the parchment and laid it back onto the large wooden desk. The other list. His eyes were drawn to it, as if searching for a light, wanting, needing some reassurance that there were some left. Those who fought. The title simply read "WANTED". Noone knew how he meant that.
Fletcher, Mundungus
Granger, Hermione
Longbottom, Neville
Lovegood, Luna
Lupin, Remus John
Malfoy, Draco
McGonagall, Minerva
Moody, Alastor
Snape, Severus
Trelawney, Sybill
Weasley, Arthur
Weasley, Fred
Weasley, Virginia
He clutched to the list as if his life depended on it. In fact it did. These names, were just letters of black ink written on white parchment to some. But he knew what they really were. Hope. No, not for himself. There was no hope left for himself. Not that he deserved any. But the wizarding world did. 13 Names – what irony – 13 fighters, the only ones left. Their only hope.
Me again: What do you say? If you like it this is going to turn into a really big story (well for me anyway). So be nice and review and you will get to see those wonderful 13 heroes!