Disclaimer: All the characters used in this story are the sole property of J.K Rowling (and some other big company whose name I do not remember. Sorry, no insults intended, just my bad memory). They are not mine. I take credit for the characters' actions and thoughts in this story, though (often used as they are).
A/N: This fic is a sidestory to my "Name"-series. It is from Molly Weasley's pov. In timeline it goes between "By your name" and "I call for you".
The quote at the end of the story I got from the movie "Titanic". I probably misquoted it, but I saw the music video and the priest sort of stuck in my memory.
All the tears
There is a battle going on outside. I can hear explosions, yells and screams. Screams of pain.
The thin walls of the field infirmary are not able to shut them out.
They are bringing in more and more wounded. At first, they brought only "our" fighters. Now, it isn't important anymore. It's hard to say, I guess – under all that dirt and blood. How do you understand who's who? Does it matter?
All we here see are wounded people, some no more than children yet. They are hurt and we take care of them. The best we can. Sometimes even the best is not enough. For too many...
My hands are working. I have stopped searching faces, trying to recognize. Somehow my mind still records every one that goes through my hands.
I know I saw George sometime ago. The wounds were bad, but not too bad. I don't know if I should feel worry or relief. He's wounded, but he's not fighting anymore. And he's alive.
There are too many others to worry about. And then there are those I don't have to worry about anymore. The ones whose hands on the clock are fixed in one place. Permanently.
Another wounded. And the next one is waiting. We are probably going to loose that girl. Her wounds are too big, she has lost too much blood. If it were peacetime she could recover, but I don't have means to save her now.
There are not enough potions, not enough herbs and we are exhausted from casting far too many healing spells. Soon we'll be out of everything.
They are bringing in a boy. I can see it is already too late for him. So young… A name appears in my mind. Boot. I don't know which side he fought for. I don't care. I can do nothing for him, nothing.
And I find I have still tears left.
"And God shall wipe away all the tears from their eyes and there shall be no more death."