Winter of Despair
Summary: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." A look at the War and how it affects people's daily lives. Quite short and melancholy.
Feedback: I think you know the drill by now.
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: We just started reading A Tale of Two Cities in my English class. This story is entirely based on part of the first sentence of the book. I changed the quote a little bit so it's in the present tense like the rest of the fic will be. I also added one line, because it fit so well.
I'm imaging the Death Eater regime thing to be quite like that of Hitler. This story is easier to understand if you know about pre-war Germany.
Winter of Despair
It is winter now. Animals hide from the snow, children hide from the cold, wizards hide from the Death Eaters. It has become a ritual now, and even the youngest children know to run inside and dive under their beds when they hear the telltale clomping of feet. The older children, afraid of the Death Eaters and their long black cloaks, and not confused like their younger siblings are, barely ever leave the jail-like security of their homes.
Three teens sit huddled together before a fireplace. One's pale face has gone paler yet, and he has an air of sadness about him. Another, a girl, has her hair hidden under the hood of her cloak so that any passing Death Eaters will not recognize her. The third, also a girl, has shoulder-length red hair, dulled from dust, and disconsolate brown eyes.
"They've killed Ron," she sobs softly. "What more do they want? Can the war end now?"
It is the best of times, it is the worst of times, it is the age of wisdom, it is the age of foolishness, it is the epoch of belief, it is the epoch of incredulity, it is the season of Light, it is the season of Darkness, it is the spring of hope, it is the winter of despair…and nothing is certain anymore.
-End