It's too dark tonight- we're not sure we'll make it out this time. We don't want to die in this strange place full of terror, though some may call it "home." But we are the children of the war. To us, Hogwarts will never be home.


A scream jars me back to the present.

"Alvilda!"

I rush over to the younger girl. She is thrashing on the floor, screaming in pain. It forced her cuts to reopen and blood begins to soak through her pyjamas. The bandages have done no good.

"Wake up, Alvilda, before they hear you!"

I shake her shoulder, praying it doesn't hurt too much. At least, I would have prayed, had this been the scene five years ago. But now, I just hope.

"No, no, please, Liza! Please, make them stop!" Alvilda whimpers.

Around her, the others begin to stir.

I need to stop her, somehow, before the others awoke. They are too tired to keep going like this.

"Alvilda!" I sharply whisper, leaning down to say it directly in her ear.

Immediately, her eyes shoot open, bloodshot and haunted. The expression reflects the ghosts of all those gone, whether they be truly dead or not.

"Oh, Liza!" Alvilda cries, launching herself onto me. Her sobs echo around the otherwise silent room.

"Alvilda, hush, don't worry, little one," I whisper, rubbing circles into her back, wishing she could silence her wails. "It's nighttime. They won't come for us now, if we're quiet."

Alvilda immediately smothers the noises in my shoulder so they are less audible.

I feel terrible. This little girl, eleven years old, is scared half to death by the horrors of this supposed "school" where she is tortured for her blood. And here I am, telling her to be quiet.

What happened?

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named happened, I think bitterly. Severus Snape happened. Amycus and Alecto Carrow. Death Eaters. Slytherins.

Hate rises up within me. I bite the inside of my cheek until the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. Even then, I do not stop. It doesn't even hurt anymore.

It takes me a second to realise that Alvilda is completely asleep by now. I gently lay her down on her pillow, tucking in her blanket all around her. The others shift so they can be closer together, cold from the wintery air seeping in the room.

I straighten myself until I stand completely upright, tiptoeing carefully back to my spot on the floor.

"Boo!"

Only I hear the scream of Alecto Carrow from the other side of the wall. I flinch, nearly toppling over, but manage to catch myself on the wall. Closing my eyes and hoping, I desperately think, She can't have heard me. Please don't let her have heard me.

Alecto curses. "All asleep. Again. Those stupid Ravenclaws, always sleeping as if they're dead. One day I'll catch them."

You almost did.

"Talking to yourself again, sis?"

Amycus Carrow's voice halts my breathing. No, no. Not a panic attack- not now. Please, oh please.

Or favourite word: Please.

The sound of receding footsteps and fading voices calms me. They're gone. It's okay.

But it's never okay. Not really.

Because we're at Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War.

It can never be okay, not for children of the war like us.


"Liza!"

I twist my head around, searching for the source of the voice. I know it has to be Neville- I'd recognise his voice anywhere.

The galleon next to the tapestry alerts me of his position.

"How's Thao doing?" I quietly ask, ducking behind the tapestry once everybody's gone.

Neville's worried face floats in the darkness, illuminated only by the light peeking through the entrance.

"Not well," Neville informs.

I'm shocked. It's been two weeks since Neville took Thao to the Room to recover from an especially bad session in detention. Two weeks is the longest anybody's ever been in the Room.

"He won't sleep, talk, eat- anything," Neville supplies sadly. "It's like- it's like watching my parents all over again."

I bite my lip. The quiver in his voice- that means he can tell Thao won't recover. All the best remedies are in the Room, all the most talented students, all the thickest medicinal books.

"Liza, he's not going to recover."

I don't breathe for a minute or two. My eyes are shut, and I remember everything I can about Thao, the sweetest third year there ever was.

"Liza?"

I open my eyes, inhaling a breath of tainted air. "His memory book- his trunk- we need to get them to his dad. Mum's already dead by the Snatchers. Two days ago."

Neville nods, though he hates to think about it. "Tomorrow, three a.m. sound good?"

"It's a plan. We'll meet here," I answer.

"See you then."

And off he is, with me ducking back to the hallway and sprinting to class. I'm ten minutes late. That'll be a detention.

My body already wants to shut down, but I've got a packed night.

Maybe I'll be in the Room by the end of the week.


"Luna's not coming back."

Neville's words hit me like a brick wall. Next to me, Estela gasps.

"Wh-Why not?" She stutters.

Neville looks at the floor. Luna was one of his best friends- he liked her. Everyone knew that.

"Snatchers. Getting off the train."

I gulp. I should've seen it, but I had left as quickly as possible. I wanted to go back home before they could drag me back to the school.

"Do you have a list of the Ravenclaws not returning?" Estela quickly covered, turning to me.

"I do," I answer, pulling out my logbook, "Have you guys got any names?"

Both nod, pulling out their own logbooks. After so many disappearances in the first months, the Houses decided to appoint a leader and create logbooks to keep track of everyone.

Of course, we also decided to create Memory Books so that nobody would ever be forgotten.

"Estela!"

A Hufflepuff bursts into the train compartment we had turned into a makeshift conference room.

"Estela! It's Willa- Crabbe and Goyle ganged up on her- help!"

Our meeting is adjourned.


I wasn't supposed to fight. I'm only fifteen, in my fifth year. Yet somehow, over the course of one year, I led the Ravenclaws, I helped a rebellion, and I fought in a war.

Only to witness my baby sister's death.

"Liza! Lizaveta!"

Numbly, I turn around to Neville's all-too-familiar shout.

"Liza, is everyone alright at Hogsmeade?"

"No."

My short response, my hoarse voice, confuses Neville, covered in blood. Behind him, the Weasleys mourn their lost son. Ginny looks over, though, and comes closer to me.

"What happened?"

I shudder. My eyes are dry. I haven't cried, not a single tear, not since the Death Eaters killed my mother two summers ago. And yet, I want to, so badly. My baby sister, my little Alvilda, is gone.

Forever.

"They killed her!" I scream suddenly, all those around me looking up- even the lone Weasley twin.

"We were in Hogsmeade- we were safe! But then I got stuck here, and then I had to fight, and Colin, then Lavender, then Nigel- all of them, Neville! I tried to stop it! Then Professor Sinatra!"

Neville is shocked. "But, you're undersage?"

"That doesn't matter!" I shriek hysterically. "I survived, unlike the others. I just wanted to see my baby sister, to get away from this prison- but then they came, and- and- and-"

I can't go on. Tears spill over. Neville hugs me, Ginny joining in immediately after.

"They killed Alvilda," I whisper.

Neville and Ginny pull away.

"Where are you going?" Ginny wonders, her voice empathetic. She lost her brother, too.

"Anywhere," I resolutely answer. "Anywhere but here."

"But Hogwarts is home!"

Of course, it's the legendary Harry Potter who says this. He can't stay out of our conversation.

"Hogwarts is not my home," I coldly state. "Hogwarts is my prison."

The shocked expressions are all around. Anybody before my time wouldn't have believed such a thing, but all my memories are tainted.

Tainted air. Tainted memories. Tainted words. Tainted faith. Tainted soul. Tainted heart.

Dementors in my first year, Cedric's death in my second, Umbridge in my third, Dumbledore's death in my fourth- and this year.

Neville understands. Ginny understands. They know what I've been through, they know what I've seen.

"Will you ever come back?"

I don't hesitate to answer Neville's inquiry. "I can't."

Ginny tugs me into a tight embrace, Neville wrapping his arms around both of us. Through the gaps in their arms, I see Estela lying with her hand clasped tightly in Sahib's. I remember them heading to the seventh floor, together.

"I'll visit, I promise," Neville fervently tells, Ginny agreeing immediately.

I pull away with a shaking, sad smile. "Don't forget me, okay? Lizaveta Katherine Aldrich. I'll be somewhere large- maybe America. I think I'd like that. Somewhere to be lost in bright lights and heavy smoke."

Ginny laughs. Neville grins and shakes his head.

"Don't get too lost, Liza," Neville reminds.

"Never, Neville," I swear.

I turn on my heel, tossing one final wave over my shoulder.

I may have survived in body, but not in spirit. I have nowhere to go, no one to come with me.

I am a child of the war.

And I am leaving my prison.