The Great Hall was destroyed, the suit of armors were sprawled across the corridors, the tiny stones from the houses' hourglasses were all over the floor, there were bodies from the students and death eaters all around, spells and curses were flying through the air… Where was the Hogwarts he used to know? Where was the hall filled with smiling students? Where were the teachers that had always been so concerned about their children's safety? Where was that magical atmosphere of the castle?
Some young wizards and witches were running around the place, shouting and shooting spells against the men with dark cloaks and masks. These attacked back and, sometimes, a child fell to the floor, but there were times in which the teenagers managed to knock a death eater down. It was incredible how those children knew much more about duels than his classmates did when they were young… Back at that time, teenagers used to spend their free time joking and drinking Butterbeer or Firewhiskey, the boys used to flirt with girls in every possible way and the young ladies used to gather around with their friends and giggle, talking about the last compliment they had received…
But these children… These children spent their youth learning how to duel, how to defend themselves, how to disarm the opponent and, if it was necessary, how to torture and kill them. The Butterbeer and the Firewhiskey were now abandoned inside a Hogsmead's pub's cabinet, the jokes were forgotten, the flirting was transformed into comforting words and the giggling turned into tears.
The youth, the safety and the magic of Hogwarts were gone in the blink of an eye. The place which he believed to be to be the safest and happiest place on Earth had become a battlefield, the children who would become the new generation of the wizarding world were dying at his feet, the magic of the castle were disappearing and being replaced by the terror of the war.
He loved that place, and that made a strange feeling appear inside himself as he saw all the destruction around himself. Hogwarts – his Hogwarts, his home - was destroyed.
He would love to know how all that mess started, how did he had the courage to that to that magical place, to the most important place of his life? How could he have destroyed the only happiness that existed in his miserable existence?
Tom Riddle would never know the answer for these questions, after all, Lord Voldemort was ordering him to raise his wand and shoot a Killing Curse in the direction of an unfortunate wizard who was standing too close to him. The Dark Lord didn't have time for all that sentimentalism, he had a war to win.
IIIIIII
A/N: 13 years since the Battle of Hogwarts. 13 years since the death of Lord Voldemort.
Sorry if there is any mistake, it wasn't beta read.
Ari.