The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 6 / Finals 2

Position: Captain

Team: Kenmare Kestrels

Prompt - Somehow the silence seemed to connect us in a way words never would.

A/N - This takes place right after the Battle of Hogwarts. The tenses and pronoun have been changed in my prompt and were used at the end of the story. Please enjoy. :) Un-beta'd

Hannah Abbot had never been a good fighter.

Which is why, during the Battle of Hogwarts, her fighting skills had neither improved or saved her. She was better at hiding, escaping, using little methods to get enemies down and beaten. Enemies like teachers or bullies, the normal kind that a kid would have in school. Not Death Eaters and killing curses.

This is how she ended up in the hospital wing — staring at the despondent groups of students, some moving around, others slumped on their beds. The Madame Pomfrey was bustling about, checking students and their conditions. A few volunteers had taken care of the children not seriously injured, such as herself. Just a stray jinx shot to her arm — it wavered in pain, from holding it too close to a raging fire, then back to normal. She was assured it would fade after treatment in a few hours. Hannah was one of the lucky ones.

It was a tough time watching injured students, both mentally and physically, and studying each person for a heartstopping moment to see if one of those tear-stained faces were her friends. They weren't, but it hurt regardless.

One of the more energetic Gryffindor students that had come in had assured her, almost breathlessly that it was over, Harry Potter did it, no more Death Eaters, no more, no more. Then he had left, he was like a burst of happy wind that had came and swirled around the hospital room before leaving. People outside were overjoyed that it was over and rightly so.

But right now, Hannah was looking at the people who were devastated at the result.

Her left arm curled over her shoulder and tightened as the sounds of someone crying increased.

She was one of the lucky ones.

Hannah wasn't injured enough that she couldn't move around and after seeing more students hobbling in, she gave up her spot and ducked out of the room. Normally, she would've volunteered, but healing spells was not something she excelled at.

With the silence, she took a deep breath, compared to the frantic energy and anxiety that was prevalent in that room, the stone hallway was stunningly silent.

For a moment, Hannah stood there, torn on where to walk. Normalcy tempted her to walk towards her comforting Hufflepuff common room, but the silence down the corridor was so forboding that she was too nervous to face what destruction was there. The Great Hall was an option... then a memory of crying Ravenclaw, holding her sister appeared in her mind and Hannah faltered — no, no, she wasn't ready for that.

She twisted her hands in her cardigan nervously.

The kitchens.

Hannah wasn't hungry, but half the time she went to the kitchen, it was more for the solace and comfort it brought rather than the food. It wasn't the same as peering over the kitchen table, watching her mother cook and being transfixed by the stirring whisks and the scent of cinnamon in the air.

No, it wasn't the same, but it was a comfort all the same.

Slowly, she started the path down to the kitchens. Her footsteps echoed in the stone hallway, the silence sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't until Hannah turned the corner to the first stairway that she lost her breath.

Crumbled stone, twisted stairways, scorch marks on the walls. It was chaos compared to the calm memory of what it was before. Timidly, she stepped around the rubble and down the stairs, taking each new sight one at a time. It was temporary, she told herself, this will be fixed. Along the wall was a wide jagged crack that was tinted with black scorch marks. She lifted her hand to it and trailed her fingers across sharp broken stone as she passed.

Dark magic was terrifying.

Hannah tried to blink away the tears that were starting to collect so she closed her eyes and stood alone in the middle of the broken castle.

It'll be fixed, she told herself.

No matter how you preserve the good memories, the bad ones will still burn.

It seemed like hours before she arrived to the kitchens, Hannah felt far more tired than she would normally feel with a walk like that. With a sigh, she tickled the pear and found her way to her normal spot at the table, collapsing with her head in her hands.

A few moments later, a strong scent of cinnamon reached her and she lifted her head. A house elf, Tiffy, pushed a mug of murky liquid towards her, looking just as worried as usual. Hannah lifted her head and looked around. "You're the only one here?" The kitchen was strangely void of all the house elves except for a couple who were intent on fixing the damage to the kitchen walls.

"Tiffy stayed behind to help." Tiffy wringed her hands. "Others went to help the students."

"I see..." Hannah cupped the mug in her hands

"Damage." Tiffy muttered. "Much damage."

"Yeah." She took a sip from her drink — warm black tea, cinnamon, cardamon, and a splash of milk — it was beautiful cup of chai and it sent her mind to a better place.

"You alright, Tiffy? Did any of the house elves get hurt?" Hannah asked, rather worried at the thought, but the house elf shook her head.

"Tiffy and the others were safe. Much safe."

"That's good."

Tiffy hobbled forward and placed a hand on her arm. "You alright, Misses Hannah?"

That gave Hannah a smile. "I'm alright, Tiffy. Thank you."

At that moment, the door to the kitchen opened and a pale student stumbled in and collapsed on the chair next to Hannah, but stiffened as soon as he noticed he wasn't alone. She studied him and tried to remember why he looked so familiar, and her gaze lingered on the silver and green striped tie.

He looked as tired as her.

Tiffy hurried over to him, but he waved her away. "Not hungry today, Tiffy."

Hannah motioned to Tiffy and her drink, the house elf seemed to understand because she hurried away and returned with a warm mug for the student next to her. Hannah spoke up before he could argue. "It helps."

He looked in the cup at the murky liquid.

"Hufflepuffs aren't generally known for poisoning students." She gave a wry smile and he looked amused before taking a sip.

Hannah tilted her head and leaned back. "Look at us now, carrying on without hexing each other, enjoying a drink, one Hufflepuff..." she held up one finger and raised a second one, "and one Slytherin."

It was a while before he answered her. "I suppose... we have something common now." His voice was so low that Hannah didn't have to ask him to elborate.

It was as clear as her memories. The tear-stained face of a Ravenclaw student, the vacate silence, the rubble that was spread all over the ground, the shattered windows that she counted on her way down with her shoulder burning with every step.

Each moment was clearer than any past childhood memory she had ever had and she hated it.

With a sharp impulse, Hannah placed her hand over the hand of the student next to her and gripped it. He was startled but he didn't pull away.

There they were, basking in the comfort of warm cinnamon and trying to carrying on, Hannah rested her head on the table, gripping his hand still. They didn't need to say anything.

Somehow the silence seemed to connect them in a way words never could.