AN: I didn't think I would write a sequel to Fireworks. It kind of came to me in a dream.
. . .
Hogwarts mourned after the battle of her divided children. She couldn't stand to watch the years go by as the four Grand Houses of Hogwarts warred with each other.
Hogwarts was nothing but a bare patch of fertile land when the Four first came to her. Large and green, they didn't think they could build a school on the land.
Several years later after much toil and slave labor, Hogwarts was standing, gleaming in the sunlight with her newly polished stones. She was only an infant then. She was constantly gurgling out her fragmented thoughts and emotion into little trickles that slipped away from her core, the center of the grand structure, Her Being and out into the open where students' mind and magic were infected.
She fed the students, her Children nurtured back as well. Essence of their soul stuck within the stones of her wall. Magic embedded deep into the corridors. She grew among the years.
And now here she was. Grieving mother to all as her Children lay before her.
Hogwarts crumbled under the watchful gaze of the stars, and soon muggles sent into space, who was wondering why a piece of Scotland looked clear all of a sudden, sent an alert back to Earth.
The giant fortress swept over the bodies, the last slips of the wards protecting her favorite child, poor, sweet, little Green Eyes.
The last of Hogwarts was seen as a giant woman made of stone and dirt with shifting features, a long 'o' of grief was the only thing that stayed still on her ever changing visage.
Years later, the muggles swept into the area of mass destruction, watching with wide eyes, wondering what in the world happened to cost so many lives and for them not to notice.