This battle of, or rather, for, her, Hogwarts, was one of the worst that she had seen in all her years.. And it had seen quite a few, but none as bad as this; this was no little rebellion, or conflict; this was an all out war, a culmination of the terror and prejudice that had gripped the Wizarding World for longer than it could remember, something dark and ugly that had crawled out of its people's heart, brought to the surface by a poor orphan boy who sought shelter this very castle's arms. More than anything, this was one of the most hideous thing about this war was that all these people were Hogwart's students, her children. She was the one who had shielded them, who had been a home to the student and professors alike, teaching them all that they knew. She was the one who watched their life-long friendships form tentatively, watched their parents fall in love, watched them fall in love, forever watching, and hoping that even when they left her castle doors, they would find happiness somewhere, out in the vast world, and perhaps, one day, she would see them again, or, perhaps, a tiny child, with his father's face and his mother's nature. She always hoped that her children would find the peace they deserved. And now, in her embrace, they were going to fight this out all at once, regardless of the cost, and Hogwarts could do nothing but to watch them, their blood and lives seeping out of broken bodies, bits of her falling like tears that pooled in large mounts of debris, like headstones for the brave and the foolish that lied at their feet. In a small corner, a girl and a boy was fight for their lives. She remembered them well, both too remarkable to forget. The girl was striking, with an ever-changing array of colours for her hair and features, a bright smile to hide away her fear of never being recognised as herself. The boy wore his suffering on his brow, and yet beneath his slumped shoulders and tired eyes, was still the same strong child that she had known; the same child that had endured hundreds of nights of pain and claws and blood, but kept his eyes clear with hope and some semblance of happiness. Just as a jet of green light rushed to meet both of them, she gritted her teeth and dislodged pieces of herself to send both of them flying out of harm's way, leaving them crumpled in a pile at the side, bloodied and hurt, but alive. She had done her duty, and watching them stagger to the side to tend to each other's wounds, she smiled, despite the pain of herself being broken into little pieces and deeper still, the agony of watching so many more whom she could not save, felled by the whims of fate. She always hoped that her children would find the peace they deserved.