Secret Lives

Summary: We lived. We loved. We learned… until the days when everything started to change. I'm talking about the war, of course. Before then everything was perfect, but now it's all been turned upside down. We lost our peers, our family, our friends. But eventually, we started to live again. This is our story…

Hullo Reader,

The first thing I must tell you is that my identity isn't important. Anything you read about my history won't be enough to tell you who I am either. I want it this way. You see, I want you to know the story of those of us that had lived before everything changed. At this point, I hope I can assume that anyone who reads this letter knows about the battle between He Who Must Not Be Named and Harry Potter. After all, we were all affected. However, just incase you didn't know; in case you have no idea what I'm talking about, I will tell you. There was a war. Many people died; Death Eaters, Order members, Muggles, people from all blood-types.

Now, I will let you in on some things that you probably shouldn't know if you don't already. First, Merlin wasn't a fictional character. He was real. Also, you should know that all those magical characters in the fairy tales you read as a child, well they are real as well. Along with many others you probably have never heard of. Lastly, witches and wizards are real. However, we are not at all as Muggle writers describe us in their literature. We are actually a lot like you, despite the fact that we can perform magic. We have our own government, our own schools, our own hospitals, and our own sports. Our main sport is Quidditch, a game played in the air on broomsticks – yes we can actually fly on them, but usually only do so for short trips and to play the game.

Well, I'm guessing that by now you must think I'm some nut job that deserves to be in the loony bin, locked up with the key thrown away. I know you think that because I was like that. See, I am a Muggle born child, which means that neither of my parents have any magical blood in them. This means they cannot perform spells, brew potions, or do anything else magical.

I had just turned eleven when I found learned the reality of the Wizarding World, although I believed in it since I had read my first fairytale. You see, when I turned eleven, I received a letter to attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which teaches about everything a young Witch or Wizard needs to know; from brewing potions, to casting charms, to flying on broomsticks!

When I first received my letter I thought it was someone playing a horrible trick on me and so my parents, ever protective, disposed of it. But eventually more letters came, and along with it one of my future professors, Minerva McGonagall. She sat down with my family and explained about the magical world. She explained to us that this was the reason that weird things always seemed to happen to me (such as when my toy seemingly repaired itself after my father had accidentally stepped in it when I was three years old). She eventually convinced us by turning our coffee table into a pig and back again, a spell she claimed was a favorite or hers. Later on, she brought my parents and me to Diagon Alley, which is the biggest shopping area in London for the Wizarding World.

Well, I know that I've officially scared you now, but please just stick with me while I continue. When I first got my letter to Hogwarts, I felt the same way you probably do now. But once it sunk in, and I knew it was real, it was very exciting.

Later that year, on September 1st actually, I caught the train to Hogwarts. That was an experience all in its own. You see the platform for the train is Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Yes, you heard me right. To get on the train you actually have to go through a wall! It really is magical.

When I was on the train, I met many people including some from my own future house (more about that later in this letter): Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, as well as Katie Bell. I also met Lee Jordan, and Fred and George Weasley (they're twins). Those three tended to stick to themselves. It was easy to tell that they were planning pranks (they were well-known for their mischief).

When you arrive at any new school you're usually full of nerves and excitement, but I had never felt as much as I did when I was on my way to this new school. However, once you actually see Hogwarts all your nerves tend to go away. For one, it's a castle. It just screams magic- well not literally. It's full of hundreds of corridors, and students. It has many ghosts, talking portraits (in the wizarding world, the pictures actually move, and some can even talk), and it even has moving staircases.

When you arrive at the school, all the new students get 'sorted'. That means put in one of the four houses. Those houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor is for those who are known for their courage, Slytherin for those who are cunning, Ravenclaw for those who are intelligent and witty, and Hufflepuff for those who are just, loyal, and patient.

To get sorted, you stand in line with all the other new students in front of the school. Then, when your name is called, you sit on a stool and have a hat placed on your head. It has the ability to look into your mind and see the type of person you really are. When it has made a decision, the Sorting Hat yells out the house you will be in for the next seven years.

The next seven years of my life were spent almost entirely at that school, with the exception of the Christmas and summer holidays. I learned all I needed to know, our history, the spells we can use, how to brew proper potions, etc. However some of the best times I had were outside of the classroom. While there I had my first boy-friend, my first kiss, I learned the do's and don'ts of fashion (both wizard and Muggle), I partied, I celebrated, I lived. But those days quickly ended for me.

Eventually, like everyone in the world (both Muggle and wizard), I was forced to choose a career. Did I want to be a healer (who is like a Muggle doctor), an Auror (who is like a Muggle police officer), a journalist for the Daily Prophet (our newspaper)?

I eventually decided to become a healer. It wasn't that difficult of a choice for me really. You see, by this point, the effects of the war were starting to really be felt throughout our world. People from both the magical and Muggle world were being murdered. I knew that I needed to do something that would help people. I'd never been the best student in Defense against the Dark Arts, so I knew that I wouldn't be able to really help with the fighting. I decided that this way, even if I didn't end up fighting, I'd still be able to help by curing our side when they were wounded. Starting off, I never knew how many I would eventually need to help, and how many I wouldn't be able to. I also never knew how much I would end up fighting.

Once I was of age though, I joined the Order of the Phoenix. It was a group of those who were going to fight against Lord Voldemort. It was set up by Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all time, and my former headmaster at Hogwarts. By joining that group I put myself and my family in great danger. In the end it was worth it. Although I was not able to stay in touch with my family during the months leading to the war (as they went into hiding), I was able to find out what was really happening by being part of the Order.

There were quite a few times in the months leading up to the war that I had been called to headquarters to help cure those who had been injured on a mission. Only once or twice was I actually called in to go on a mission myself.

During those months, I lost friends, family, and others that I barely knew. It was a difficult time. I learned then that I wouldn't be able to fix everyone. That sometimes you just had to let go. Stop trying. That sometimes it wasn't possible. To this day, I still remember every patient I helped, and every one that I couldn't. Some things are hard to forget, to let go of.

Those months leading up to the war were… in a word: horrible. Beyond horrible really; I don't believe there are any words that could describe it perfectly.

During those months, the ministry lost control. Our Minister of Magic had been killed; and many who were high up in the ministry had been imperiused, which means that they were completely under the command of the Death Eaters (the followers of Lord Voldemort). Slowly the Wizarding World was succumbing to darkness. People were being forced out of schools for being Muggle born; and many were in hiding or on the run. On top of all that was happening, the one that was supposed to be able to defeat Voldemort – Harry Potter, a boy who was supposed to be going into his seventh year of schooling- had disappeared. No one knew where he was, or what he could possibly be doing and many were angry with him. However, even with all that was going on the Order was still fighting hard against the ever growing evil.

In those months I was told to continue on with my job and to keep my head down. I was lucky that we were able to find a witch in my family line decades before I was born; it was all that kept me out of Azkaban (our prison). There were so many days that I wished I could have been doing more for our side. I wished I could have been out there fighting, but I would have been useless. As I said before, I was a healer, not an Auror. I was never the best student at dueling, and I only would have ended up landing myself in Azkaban which would not help our side at all, but still…

The final battle was only hours long, but those hours took forever. I remember exactly when it had happened. I was in my flat trying to relax after my shift at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries when the sliver patronus, the Order's preferred use of communication, of Author Weasley landed in the middle of my living room. His voice informed me that the battle was about to start and that I needed to get to Hogs Head, a shabby pub in a village close to the school, where I would be able to enter the school through a passage.

After following his instructions (and meeting a very annoyed owner of the pub in the process) I found myself sitting in a strange room with many of the people I had known from school. Not too long after I arrived, I found myself standing amongst the crowd facing the Harry Potter. He was informing us that the school was being evacuated and that all those who chose to fight were meeting in the Great to get organized.

At exactly midnight the battle started. The Death Eaters advanced onto the grounds and everyone who stayed to fight sent hexes at them from various positions in and around the castle. It was a few hours later that the Death Eaters managed to break the guards and got into the castle. From then on it was complete chaos! As I helped my peers try and fight off the enemy, I saw many others fall. When I wasn't in combat with a Death Eater I was trying to move those who had fallen or were injured to safety.

After a few hours of battle, the cold, high voice of pure evil reverberated throughout the castle. Lord Voldemort called back his minions. He gave us one hour to treat our wounded and grieve for those we lost. However, this was not to be sympathetic to those who opposed him. It was to give Harry Potter a chance to give himself up.

Everyone had located into the Great Hall, whether to get treated or to mourn, we all gathered together. It was during this hour that my years of healing came in use. I started helping the injured right away. It was extremely difficult to see all those who were wounded, some of them just young kids who had stayed behind thinking they could fight. I did my best to keep my mind on my task at hand and to not look at those who had died, many of which were friends.

That hour seemed to fly by. However it was at the end that was almost the most horrifying. It was at the end of that hour that the cold voice of Voldemort pierced the air once more. He was claiming that Harry Potter was dead. I remember looking around the Great Hall and seeing the same question on everyone's face: could it be true?

We were all left to do as Voldemort said. We all slowly headed outside, not to join him as he suggested, but to see for ourselves if what he said was true. It was the seconds within exiting the doors of Hogwarts that sometimes still plague me in the night. The first sounds of realizing he was dead from his close friends and professors who were realizing that it was over. It was horrible. However, those cries quickly turned to shouts of anger and one from our side. Neville Longbottom even attempted to attack Voldemort himself.

It was not long after that the battle started again, seemingly in one fluid motion. It started with Voldemort trying to make an example of what would happen to those who betrayed him like Neville. Next thing I remember, the giants were fighting, centaurs had emerged and were firing arrows at Death Eaters - scattering them, and everyone was being forced back into the castle where the battle had started again in the Great Hall. Everywhere you looked there were hexes and curses flying in every direction. Friends, families, inhabitants of Hogsmeade were all fighting the Death Eaters.

It wasn't long until it all seemed to halt in a moment though. Slowly everyone seemed to stop and watch two of biggest battles that were happening in the center of the hall. Voldemort was fighting off three opponents, two professors of Hogwarts and the head Auror of the Ministry. Besides them, the head Death Eater was fighting Mrs. Weasley, the mother of seven, and who had already lost one son to the earlier battle.

Seemingly, within moments of watching the battles, two amazing things happened. Mrs. Weasley killed her opponent, and Harry Potter seemed to emerge out of no where, ALIVE! I remember being in complete shock at this point, almost completely forgetting that there were Death Eaters not five feet from where I stood.

I remember watching as Harry walked slowly towards Voldemort, calling out as they started to circle each other that he had to be the one to kill him. Nobody tried to argue, we all stood transfixed and quiet watching as the two opponents started taunting each other as they circled one another.

Everyone from both sides seemed to be glued to their spots, transfixed by what they were seeing. The hero who was believed to be dead was taking on Voldemort, and not for the first time in his life.

They continued to circle each other, while seemingly in a discussion. I, like all around me continued to stare transfixed at the event before me. Harry Potter was talking calmly to Voldemort, the latter responding in a less even tone. And then it happened.

As the sun started to rise over the hills and spilled into the Great Hall, the two opponents screamed their spells at the same time: Avada Kedavra, the killing curse sent by Voldemort, and Expelliarmus, the disarming spell, cast by Harry. It was at the center of their circle that the two the spells seemed to meet, before Harry's overpowered Voldemort's, sending the green jet of the killing curse back at the one who had uttered it.

And at that moment, it was finally over. We had won. Voldemort was dead.

Over the next few hours there was a lot of celebration as well as mourning. Death Eaters were being captured and the innocent who had been in sent to Azkaban were being released. Despite the tragedy that surrounded the castle, everyone was happy that it was finally over.

It sometimes is a little difficult to say we won; we had lost so many good people in the fight. From the people who battled, to the innocents who shouldn't have died in the months before, to those souls fighting for the other side. As for myself, I lost many who were close to me and many from the Order… Fred, Tonks, Dumbledore… the list just goes on.

In the weeks that followed the war, it was difficult to start moving on, knowing I would never see my friends again. Between tending to the survivors and trying to obtain some sleep, I attended many funerals. Those were the weeks from hell… To this day, there are nights when I can still hear the cries from the wounded, and those who had lost loved ones. Some nights when I can vividly see the faces of those I lost, so close I could almost touch them… but then I always remember that they're gone; that I will never see them again in this lifetime.

It's been a few years since the war now. Although the effects of the war are still felt, we have finally finished fixing places touched by the war, such as Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and our ministry. At the site of the battle remains a stone tablet engraved with a list of the names of the people we lost for the cause.

Reader, I hope that this helps you to understand who we were. If you are also a survivor, my heart goes out to you, for you know exactly how hard that time, and the years after, were. If you do not have magical blood, remember; we are not all monsters. Yes, our magic can do horrible things, but it also helped to protect you to the best of our abilities. Please, remember to live your life to the fullest possible extent, because you never know when it will be turned upside down.