A/N: This will probably make more
sense if you have read George Orwell's 1984. If you have, you should
recognize the title's quote as where Winston hoped to meet Emmanuel Goldstein
and O'Brien in his future. If you haven't read the book, you should. This fic
is based on the concept that the government, in this case, Voldemort's liege,
would begin brainwashing and taking over the world. Everything from sex to
freedom of thought was prohibited, and everyone worked "together". It was kind
of like fascism and communism mixed together. Well, on with the writing! (By
the way, I don't own H.P., never have, never will.) And, I have nothing against
Ron and others, it is just the way things turned out. J
Cold.
The frigid air of winter beat upon his back, the word resounding, echoing in
his brain. It was always winter. The young boy with hurt eyes and disheveled
black hair trudged across the frozen ground, toward his classroom. A humming
plane soared overhead, broadcasting news of the latest victory of the Death Eaters
and the Dark Lord's liege. The boy pulled his cloak nearer around his neck and
hunched over. He did not like to think of THEM, the terrors of the Death
Eaters. Everyone else seemed to think their government was fair and that once
THEY had captured the rest of the free world, everything would be serene. He
knew peace would not prevail. The dark boy shivered abruptly, shook his head,
and continued forward.
"Comrade
Harry! Wait up!" an energetic voice called from behind him. A boy his age with
vibrant orange hair came bounding to his side.
"What
now, Ronald?" the boy named Harry muttered crossly. Ronald looked taken aback at the severity of his tone, and
his omission of comrade. Everyone was to use comrade before
naming a friend. It was the rule.
"I
just wanted to know if you had gotten the latest pamphlet for this month's Hate
Week. You don't want to miss out on anything!" Harry shrugged the pestering boy
off and continued walking. He attempted to shut the words from his mind. He
knew what Hate Week was; just another session, like every other day. It was the
week where THEY promoted the total conformation of THEIR organization and
brainwashed the entire world… or at least the parts THEY controlled.
The
Death Eaters had begun fighting for world domination so long ago to Harry. No
one actually knew exactly when the battles had begun. Harry recalled them as
starting his first year at Hogwart's; the history books wrote them in as nearly
twenty years ago. Harry had often wondered why he was not like the rest of the
New Order's World. That was what THEY had called it. The brainwashing THEY had
given him never did much, it just made him wonder even more. He, unlike his
'friends', could recall the past in memories, not just from the faulty
newspapers. He remembered when THEY had come and taken the teachers, doctors,
and anyone else who was educated. THEY had burned the books and letters,
anything THEY could get THEIR hands on.
"We're
here, Comrade Harry." The nasal voice broke through Harry's silence. He
looked up to find himself standing in front of the Transfigurations classroom.
Harry stepped inside the room. It was just like the others; everything was
identical now. And Harry did not understand their tactics. THEY had first fed
everyone THEIR prejudices and hatred. Throughout school, Harry had learned the
ways of Hitler and Stalin, that love is hate, peace is hate, and that life is
hate.
Harry
remembered watching his childhood friends being sucked into the vortex of the
New Order. He had felt so alone and helpless.
The
Transfigurations classroom was filled with rowdy sixth years. Harry slumped
into the wooden chair nearest to the door, placing his head in his hands. He
glanced uneasily around the room. Boys were drawing on the chalkboards and
throwing around paper airplanes carrying the Death Eater symbols. Girls were
chatting wildly about the newest of the conservative fashions. They were
oblivious to the death that surrounded them.
"Fascists
and Communists. What's the difference? They're all the same to me," muttered
the boy, brushing back his hair.
"Excuse
me, Comrade Potter?" questioned the professor who had just entered the room.
"Nothing…
Comrade." For the first time in his life, he actually dared to glance at his
'teacher'. She had never taught him anything, only stood in the corner
supervising the activities in the room. She kept watch while a bright screen in
the room mesmerized the children with made-up stories and false statistics. His
teacher wore a pale and tired expression. THEY apparently had been after her.
Her face was weathered, that of a woman twice her age.
He
returned his gaze to the middle of a classroom, where a brilliant white
screen had begun projecting about
pictures of the Death Eaters' latest conquests. Transfigurations was no more
than a news reel.
Harry
felt the heat of another's eyes on him. He turned slightly to see a pair of
teary blue irises darting away. The news reel abruptly clicked off and the
students began leaving. The black haired boy floated through the corridors to
the dining hall, not paying attention to anything in particular. He sat at the
end of a table in the farthest corner of the hall.
"Mind
if I join you?" Harry looked up to see the blue eyes again.
"If
THEY see you, it will mean trouble," he barely whispered. The girl slid in a
nearby seat, ignoring his comment completely.
"My
name is Ginny. I know you Harry. I've watched you for a while. I heard what you
said in class today."
"You
can go right ahead and tell THEM. I don't give a damn if THEY decide to kill
me."
"That
is not it!" the girl giggled, almost too gaily for their somber environment,
"there are more of us than you think, Harry. We are all like you!"
"What
do you mean, like me?"
"We
haven't been destroyed like the others. We still have our morals, our ideals,
our souls!" she spoke passionately, shaking Harry's shoulders.
"We
don't believe in… this!" She gestured to the whole of the hall.
"Shush!"
he breathed, as an "owlcam" [1] monitoring the students' conversations passed
by.
"No
worries!" she smiled brightly. "I have to go. No worries until next time, Comrade
Harry." Ginny stood from her stool, and tossing her hair, she walked off.
"No
worries," murmured the boy, staring longingly after her. If only THEY did not
prohibit love. "No worries."
[1]: This is like the video
screens that constantly monitor what you are doing and saying, to make sure you
aren't plotting anything against their org.
A/N: Hey please Review! I know it's soooo hard, but do it! And, if you didn't get much of this, don't worry, I promise it will make sense later.