DISCLAIMER THE FIRST: It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the grace of coffee that thoughts acquire speed, the back acquires strains, the strains become a warning. The warning is that I make no money from this. It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion.

PITHY STATEMENT RELATING TO THIS STORY BUNNY: "We'll fight the powers that be just; Don't pick our destiny 'cause; You don't know us, you don't belong; Oh we're not gonna take it; No, we ain't gonna take it; Oh we're not gonna take it anymore!" – Dee Snider – American singer, song-writer and activist – 1955-

LAST UPDATED ON: 03-29-2020

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STORY BUNNY NOTE: I love getting into long discussions with my reviewers. It is often the best way to get feedback and get new ideas. This story-bunny came out of one such discussion on JKR trying to have her 'it's only a kid's story' cake and eat her 'young adult fiction' cake too. The trouble is stuff you just accept and not think too deeply about in a kiddy story isn't as easy to do when the series turns more serious.

While this is listed as a story bunny, I actually have a few chapters (out of order) done on this. It's one of those 'work as mood/ideas strike' sort of stories. Because of this, this bunny has pieces from parts of the story which are parts of stand-alone chapters. This is more of a preview.

Given my Covid-19 quarantine has my wife working from home (and using our main computer) I may pick up on this. Because while many people might think that having a lot of time to write is great, actively "working" at writing for a 40 week is, I'm finding, tough. I often get 75% through a chapter and stall, even when I know what I'm going to write!

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ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL

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HEADMISTRESS OFFICE, HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND, OCTOBER 12th, 1998 – EVENING

"I'm telling you Headmistress, something needs to be done! This is getting out of hand and term has barely begun!" The wizard was moping his brow feverishly with a handkerchief even as many others in the room were nodding in agreement.

McGonagall sighed, "Mr. Stanley, what would you have me do? I am the headmistress and this resistance is not to Hogwarts rules but the new Ministerial decrees. Given what happened three years ago the last time the Ministry made such decrees, are you really so surprised at the resistance?"

Before the indignant Ministry official could reply, Professor Sprout spoke up, "It's not just the decrees, Minerva. The students just aren't being very obedient. It's not so bad in my class and I know Filius hasn't had much issues but the rest? It's getting out of hand."

Professor Sinestra sighed, "And something has to be done about History of Magic. Given that so many students are completely blowing off the class. Even some of the First Years are beginning to skive off. We might as well admit it that Binns' days are done and he can teach to an empty class room if he wishes but the students no longer going to accept taught by a ghost who can't remember their names and is obsessed with the Goblin Wars."

"That's exactly my point! These students act like they get to make the rules! It's not their place to make the rules! The Ministry knows what's best for them and you are their professors! Students don't get to tell their instructors what they can and cannot teach," Mr. Stanley said with a face flush with emotion. Had Harry Potter been in the room, he would have immediately thought the man might be related to his Uncle. The silken sash barely holding the man's robes down against his immense belly helped with that comparison.

"Hear! Hear!" said one of the new professors in the back. Minerva couldn't tell who said it but most of the people in the room, be they from the Ministry or Hogwarts staff seem to agree with that statement. Only Professor Sprout looked like she understood the problem. It was sad that Filius had semi-retired and now only taught NEWT level charms. Tonight, was one of his nights out of the castle and Minerva wished he wasn't. Like Pomona, Filius would understand some of the forces at work.

"Gentlemen, ladies, please," Minerva said with a raised hand. "I am aware of your concerns but I can tell you right now with some certainty that we cannot and if I have my way, will not try to force compliance. It will cause a tense situation to get worse. The War left many scars; many of which are still bleeding."

A vein on Mr. Stanley forehead started to throb. "The War? That ended months ago! We have to move on! These decrees are part of that process. How can we get things back on track if these children refuse to obey?"

Minerva scowled at the man as she leaned forward and gripped her desk with both hands. "Move on? Move on? After what happened here over the last few years, you just march in here, waive a few decrees from the Minister and expect us to simply forget? How can you ask students who were held under the Cruciatus Curse, sanctioned for 'training' by the Ministry at the time, to just move on and forget?"

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

McGonagall turned her steely gaze at everyone in the room before turning back to Mr. Stanley, "And Mister Stanley, I would remind you that, sadly, most of the students are not children."

Mr. Stanley blinked at the venom in the venerable witch's voice but wasn't about to back down. "Then what are they?" he practically sneered.

"Veterans," McGonagall said coldly.

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POTIONS LAB, HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND, OCTOBER 30th, 1998 – MORNING

"Ms. Brown, would be please!" the potions professor almost shouted.

Lavender looked up to see Potion Master Pryce looking at her with an almost comical look of anger on the witch's face. She realized that she had been drumming out the beat of the music she was listening to at her work station. She looked around and few of her classmates seemed to have bothered to look up at the outburst. Not surprising, the mood among the so-called Eighth Years, was to get in, get it done and get out.

"And take that blasted contraption off your head!" Pryce said with evident disdain. Lavender could almost hear the "Muggle trash" that had gone unsaid. She was rather happy to be one of the few to have the magical experiment Hermione and Dennis had come up with to mimic a Muggle Walkman. Switching old music for new was still a trial but it was a godsend for her.

She made a face, "I'm sorry Professor but you said to work quietly for the remainder of the class period. Sorry about drumming but the music makes it easier for me to concentrate actually." She wasn't taking the mickey either. While not infected with lycanthropy, Lavender had been savaged enough that the Wolf bled through a lot and so having soothing music available kept that at bay. It helped her forget the corset she always wore to cover up the scars on her stomach and back.

Professor Pryce came from around her desk, "Now see here! I told you to take it off. Do not make me tell you again!"

Lavender eyes closed to almost slits, "Or what? You're going make me take them off?" she snarled. Literally snarled given she was also showing her teeth in a way any dog or wolf would recognize as a challenge.

All around here the air had turned from a sort of bored 'let's just get through this' to almost active menace. Almost all the students who were Eighth Years were facing the professor. Many blatantly had their wands out but Lavender knew the rest either had then out and hidden or at the ready. While not as many of the Seventh Years were doing the same, it was mostly the Slytherins of that year who held back.

Professor Pryce blinked in surprise when she realized that she was just one witch in a room with almost 30 students, most of them either pointing wands in her direction or ready to do so. Then there was the witch who looked like she was losing a battle with a feral side of herself.

"I'd let it go professor," a tired voice came from the back of the room. Pryce looked over to see Harry Potter, who wasn't even looking up from carefully adding powdered pixie wings into his cauldron.

Professor Pryce began to sputter out the typical, "Now see here!" sort of diatribe, but the hero of Magical Britain cut her off. "It's Halloween tomorrow. That's Hogwarts' almost official holiday of having bad shitte happen. So, we're all a tad tense. Lavender said she was sorry so I think that not having spells get tossed around in a room filled with volatile potion ingredients is in everybody's interest."

The fact that Potter hadn't even looked up to make eye-contact made Pryce forget the wands pointed at her, still as her own wand arm began to go up, an evil violet glow at the end of a wand belonging to Hermione Granger caught her eye.

She'd heard tales of the prim, proper Muggleborn with the bushy disaster of a head of hair. In front of her was a young woman with severely short haircut and a look in her eyes made Pryce's blood run cold. It didn't help that the witch had rolled her sleeves up before cutting up her potion's ingredients so the hideous scars on her wand arm were visible.

"Let. It. Go. Lavender is going to keep quiet; we're going to get back to work and you have some papers to grade, yes?" Granger said as the glow of her wand got brighter.

The two witches stared at each other for almost a minute before the older witch blinked and looked away. Finally, with a muttered curse about talking to the Headmistress, she moved back to her desk. All around the room, the tension lessened but there still was an air of crackling energy which still could explode if the wrong move was made.

Lavender looked over to Hermione and mouthed, 'thank you' to which the other witch gave a casual 'no big' sort of shrug. Lavender was thankful for both Harry and Hermione's words and actions. It was really hard for Lavender to control her emotions these days. Then again, she wasn't the only one with that problem. Of course, due to her werewolf induced injuries, a lot of people (including her own family) had felt she shouldn't be allowed back to Hogwarts.

Of course, there were a lot of people who felt this or that in regard to a lot of things in relation to the students who had fought the Battle of Hogwarts. And a lot of people were becoming increasingly angry that the students didn't seem to give a damn what was thought and acted accordingly.

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BLACK LAKE GROVE, HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND, OCTOBER 31st, 1998 – EARLY EVENING

Ron stalked up the path to a place that the so-called Golden Trio had often hung out when the weather was nice. The evening's weather was far from being nice, but it suited his mood which was just as foul as the wind which threatened sleet at any moment. As nasty as the weather was, it paled to the dark thoughts the eighteen-year-old was thinking.

They had beaten Voldemort. They had saved Magical Britain. And where did it get them?

Nowhere.

Actually, for the Weasley family, they had managed to be part of the victorious army to lose almost everything they had left…which hadn't been much thanks to the Death Eaters. Out of the family, only Charlie in Romania seemed to be untouched.

Due to Ron being part of the Gringotts' break-in, Bill had lost his job. While he'd quickly been hired on by a notable curse-breaker team, the money wasn't as good. It also meant more time away from home which had put a stain on his marriage with Fleur. She still wasn't adjusting well to Britain's still quite ingrained bigotry which didn't seem to have lessened even after the war. She loudly talked that Bill should move their family back to France. As Bill's time away from home grew and Fleur's belly with his child also grew, his older brother seemed more inclined to do just that.

Percy's last-minute return to the Light just made him looked at with suspicion from both sides of the fight. He had been let go from his Ministry job and now was working as a glorified clerk for Ted Tonks' partner Isabella Slush in the law firm they had started together. With the Muggleborn lawyer dead at the hands of Snatchers, Slush had needed someone to help with the paperwork her partner had mostly done. Ron knew Percy was lucky Slush was used to not caring what most people thought given Ted had been a Muggleborn and married to a disinherited Black.

A Black who surprisingly had pulled a Marauder worthy prank by stunning her daughter before she could leave her newborn's side. One dose of Polyjuice and Andromeda went off to die in the form of her daughter.

Ron scowled. As chuffed as he was that Tonks was still alive and Teddy didn't lose his mother, the end of the war had begun to have all sorts of sordid things come to life. The real parentage of Teddy being just one of them.

He tramped towards the grove that had been a favorite spot to hang out and get away. Especially when the tide of personal opinion had been against Harry. Which had been far too often for Ron's liking. Things hadn't changed much. Kill the worst Dark Lord since Grindelwald and still Harry was barely keeping himself out of Azkaban…and Ron had barely escaped that fate as well. Luckily the Goblins had decided that Harry's wealth warranted not antagonizing him any further and Ron and Hermione had luckily gotten a pass because of that.

Which was good since the end of the second Voldemort War almost started with a new Goblin Rebellion. Only a ICW warning to the Goblin Nation about how much a rebellion would almost certainly strain the Statute of Secrecy and thus mean a certain intervention made the Goblin Nation backed off.

They got their revenge in other ways. The Twin's shop had been destroyed prior to the Battle of Hogwarts and George couldn't get any credit to reopen. With Harry's money being tied up while the Goblin Nation tried to wrangle as much gold from him as they could, it meant Harry couldn't help George out.

Not that George seemed to care. Most days it seemed to Ron that George getting out of bed was a win. Or not going to bed slobbering drunk. The loss of Fred seemed to be something that George might not be able to get over. There were days that Ron wondered if his mother would either. That and while it was heroic at the time, his mum hadn't taken well to the fact she killed Bellatrix LeStrange. Dumbledore had long promoted the idea that killing, even in wartime, was something the Light should never do. And the late Headmaster had simply been pushing a long-held idea. Thus even though Molly may have saved Ginny's life, the cost weighed on her.

Ron thought back to a phrase Hermione had used to describe where they were now: A Pyrrhic victory.

This reminder of Hermione made him scowl even more. His relationship with Hermione had been another casualty of the war and Ginny was in the same boat as he. Shockingly it was his sister who rapidly had realized that Harry wasn't the same wizard he'd been. That and her time during the term had hardened her. Ron kicked a stone towards she Black Lake but only got it halfway to the shore. Ginny, at least, had rebounded and had gone back to dating Dean Thomas when he turned up with the other volunteers for the Battle of Hogwarts.

Ron peered out at the dark waters. Here he was, the hero he'd always dreamed of being. And what had that gotten him? He had no money, no girlfriend, the goblins had him on their shit list and over the summer had found that he was not up to being an Auror. With all the chaos, even a chance of getting a slot in a team like the Chudley Canons was off the table, regardless of his status as a war-hero.

In fact one of the main reasons he had come back to school was that it was paid for and he'd get free room and board so he wouldn't be a burden on his family. Arthur had told him that while he appreciated the offer of Ron taking whatever job he could, his dad felt the year back at Hogwarts would allow things to settle down. With NEWTs in hand, Ron would be in a better place come June.

Ron scowled at that thought. As if he could stand life for that long…

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A/N: This story is, in a way, a reflection of a topic my wife and I have been interested in a long time. That is, what really happened after 1945? Growing up in the American school system, we learn about WW II and then jump right into the Marshal Plan and the Cold War. We don't get back to domestic issues much other than a blurb about the G.I. Bill allowing a lot of men to college.

However, with all the issues of veterans after Vietnam and OIF/OEF, I've begun to wonder, what was going on in those years after WW II and the Korean War? Our media is filled with how awesome and wholesome the 50's were. It's all Happy Days, June Cleaver and life was one big Norman Rockwell painting.

But was it?

I doubt it. I know that collectively the way to deal with the PTSD issues of the day was wall it off…which doesn't work. Then what of all the women? All those "Rosie the Riveters" who had a taste of life away form the home who, after being praised for their work now got patted on the ass and told, "Good job! Now go home and be a housewife again!" I feel so much of that June Cleaver stuff was society trying to browbeat women back into being dutiful women who accept a subservient role to men.

That and POC who had fought in the war going back to being referred to as "boy" by whites. Is it any wonder that the older kids growing up saw this in their parents and refused to play that game and thus kicked off all the protests in the 60's?

Frankly, while good for a children's book, JKR's infamous "19 Years later" glossed over all the pain and hard work to just jump to the end. It continues the flawed idea that when you "win" a battle or a war, it's all good. But it never is. Reconstruction is always the hard part. Too often nations win the war and lose the peace. Given Albus is still worried about being a Slytherin, Draco is not in Azkaban and Ron can still confund Muggles shows that Magical Britain lost the peace.