Another little song-fic from me to you :)
This song just came onto the radio and a mini story just flowed into my Harry Potter filled head. As usual, lyrics in italics! Song-fic to Uprising by Muse.


The paranoia is in bloom, the PR
Transmissions will resume, they'll try to
Push drugs, keep us all dumb down and hope that
We will never see the truth around, so come on

A tall wizard threw up his black hood as he stepped out from his flat to a small, dark street. The street lights flickered pathetically, their light like the hope of the wizarding world; fading fast. His clothes hidden by a long dark cloak, it travelled right down to his large feet, just skimming the dirty floor. He kept his bright eyes down, not wanting to attract any attention. But there was no attention to attract. Since the wizarding war had become incredibly dark and dim, no one had dared to go out when it was dark, in fear of death or worse; no one could be sure of what was hiding in the shadows.

The old 'wanted' posters had been torn down long ago and new ones had stood in their place. Harry Potter posters had lined streets in the place of Bellatrix Lestrange; aurors replaced death eaters; "mudbloods" replaced hunted criminal wizards; and Ronald Weasley substituted Greyback. The rewards varied but those for known associates with Harry potter were larger and for Harry Potter himself? A reward so huge, that no wizard would have been able to resist. But now these posters were faded; their message had worked; greed had beaten conscience.
Radio adverts had asked for likewise 'criminals', they had spoken of a new era, a better, safer one. But those listening knew it was not. But little by little, more and more, wizards had begun to believe. The propaganda was consumed.

Another promise, another scene, another
Package not to keep us trapped in greed with all the
Green belts wrapped around our minds and endless
Red tape to keep the truth confined, so come on

As he walked he saw houses bandaged in tape, the windows blackened and door sealed. They hid the horrid truth of what had happened inside them. They needed to be fixed, just like the wizarding world. He knew it wouldn't stop until someone did something about it. But no one wanted to, no one dared to, no one wanted to suffer, no one wanted to come face to face with him. Even those who had once been brave enough to say his name had gone missing and those who had said it in rebellion had been quickly silenced. Wizards' lives were not just being taken over by them but their minds, spirits and souls; people came back changed. Those who had once before been loyal and trustworthy were consumed by the want for money and life and had quickly given over friends...family.

They will not force us
And they will stop degrading us
And they will not control us
We will be victorious, so come on

As he walked on, he saw a slight that was becoming ever more common. A man torturing another. Many would walk past, and most likely already had, but he had had enough of this. It needed to stop. Was he the only one left to do it?

'Stop.'

The man had obviously heard but ignored him.

'I said stop.'

The man laughed.

'Think you're so tough do ya?' He left his victim be; he wanted to fight.
The man turned around to the cloaked figure and gasped when the young man threw back his hood and allowed the dim light to shine onto his worn face.

'Y-y-you're dead?' He stuttered out. These were his last words.

'It would seem that I am not.'

The victim had curled up into a ball, sobbing.

'There is no need to worry. You're ok now.' He said gently as he knelt down to the ball. The man turned and looked into the man's face. He was in disbelief, but smiled. Maybe everything would be ok. He scurried off to somewhere safer than the sinister streets.

Interchanging mind control, come let the
Revolution take its toll, if you could
Flick a switch and open your third eye, you'd see that
We should never be afraid to die, so come on

The young man watched him scurry off; he smiled. How could such a powerful race become so weak in such a short amount of time? But all the bad would soon be undone; he would make sure of that.

He threw up his hood and carried on. More posters lined the brick walls, they were newer, brighter. Their message darker. They still spoke of a "better" world but they said the only way to this future was for the killing of all muggles and mudbloods. And many had begun to believe.
And when he was younger he had also believed that their way was better and best but friends, who now lay in the dirt, had shown him the light.
He was starting a new rebellion; in memory of fallen friends and those with like minded minds. But all would be gone if he could not find her.

She was the answer. The missing key, the missing puzzle piece; he needed to find her. She could show them the way. These were things that he believed, they may not have been true, but to see her again, to speak with her, to listen to her would give him strength beyond words.

As he carried on another more common scene unfolded opposite him. A pub fight. Curses, all bad, flew out of the door; they smashed through windows and hit those slow or off guard. He looked over the road to the pub, which had once been grand but was now tatty and broken, it was full of drunken wizards and the bartenders could not be seen, they had probably taken for cover behind the bar or out the back, waiting for the hell to end.

He blinked and the scene froze. Those in it moved their eyes to the cloaked figure opposite the pub. Once again, he threw back his hood and their eyes widen with shock and fear.

'Do not be stupid. Do not listen to them. Their threats are weak. Is death so bad?'

He threw up his hood and walked on for a metre or so and blinked again. The fight crashed back into the life, but the fighting was no more. Hope had just past them by.

Rise up and take the power back, it's time that
The fat cats had a heart attack, you know that
Their time is coming to an end, we have to
Unify and watch our flag ascend, so come
on

He finally reached his destination. A row of small, cramped muggle houses. He knocked on her door.

'It's me,' he whispered through the letterbox, knowing that she was smart enough not to open her door.

She slowly opened her door and like those before, her eyes widen with pure shock. A huge smile came on her lips and she stepped to the side so that he could walk in. As soon as he was in, she quickly shut the door and did up all ten locks and whispered many safety and protection charms on to it. She never took risks.

'It's good to see you...'Mione.' He threw down his hood.

'Ron.' She hugged him tightly, showing how much she had missed him. 'They said you were dead.' She looked up and down him in utter surprise, everyone had believed him dead. Just like Harry was...but if Ron was alive, maybe he was too.

But Ron seemed to read her mind.

'No. No, he is dead.' For a moment she was sad but then she remembered who was standing in front of her and smiled again.

She led him in a dim sitting room; the chairs faded and worn; it reminded him of his childhood home, which was now just a small pile of ashes, all inhabitants gone with it.

'How did you escape? No one has ever been captured by them and made it out alive.'

'I think I should ask you the same question,' he chuckled; his humour still with him, even after the dark things he had seen and heard. 'It seemed that the lovely Mrs Bellatrix Lestrange did not want me dead. I had to prove that I was "worthy" and then she let me go. And, don't worry, I've checked. No spells to track me on me, I'm just me.' Hermione, like Ron, was confused at Bellatrix's behaviour but she did not care; Ron was alive. 'How did you escape? And manage to get a house?' Asked Ron curiously as his eyes wandered around the room.

'To be honest, I have no clue how I am still alive and in my right mind. Well...a man lived here, I used to live opposite a long time ago, and one day, around three years ago before things got bad, he just didn't come back. I watched this house for a bit and no one had seemed to take it so I did.' She sadly smiled at it, knowing what may have happened to her old neighbour. 'Why are you here?'

'I'm fed up.' Ron said angrily. 'And for once in the past five years, they,' Hermione knew who they were; wizards had stopped even saying 'death eaters' now. 'Are a little weak, it seemed that one brave witch managed to drag some of them with her, she got quite a few, and she even took the Carrows with her. I'm going to rebel. Take back the wizarding word for the light.' Hermione gasped. She thought she would live hidden and in fear forever; she didn't think it was possible. She placed her hand over her mouth as Ron pulled out something she hadn't seen in years.

'The Order flag.' She smiled as she touched this old faded friend. 'You kept it?' Ron nodded; Hermione looked at him and smiled. The flag had brought back so many happy memories of the past and fallen friends.

Now or never.

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious, so come on

To build up a small force had taken less time than they had imagined. The word of Ron spread like enchanted fire; first it was a whisper but it soon escalated. Wizards went out at night, their fear fading, their hope rising. But for once, they were smart. They kept any signs of a rebellion hidden. They stopped listening to the propaganda; they took back their minds and once broken spirits. They walked with their head held high and looked down on those traitors and dark wizards.

They would fight and they would win.

Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious, so come on

Wizards and witches crowded outside of death eater headquarters – the Ministry of Magic. Many had taken to standing by back entrances, they would storm and no dark wizard would get away. They had been suppressed for too long. They waited.

Ron and Hermione stood side by side on the stone steps leading into the MoM; Ron turned to the large crowd and lifted up his right arm and formed a fist.

'They will not reign over us anymore! The light is back! We fight for fallen friends and family and all others taken by their wicked rule. We fight to the death.' Ron did not yell or shout his words, for he did not have to. His words were clear and commanding; the crowd knew what he meant.

Ron dropped his arm.

Hell charged.


Hope you liked! A review? =D