After the war, after the Boy-Who-Lived, after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, things finally started looking up. Years and years of a grueling war had finally reached its conclusion and the only thing left for them to do was fix everything back up.
Although building everything again to its former state - no, to a state far better than before - was hard work, everyone was adamant and determined. Their friends - their family died for this war, they fought for this war, and now that it's over, they will do everything they can so the future generations won't have to experience the things they had to go through.
Harry would do anything so Teddy didn't have to experience what he went through.
But barely two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, they were hit with another war. Another war with even more dire consequences. The previous war had left the Wizarding World vulnerable, so when the new enemy had risen up, they were no match.
That man had been biding his time, knowing one way or another, one of them - whether it be the light or dark side - was fated to lose. That man had lost his friends and family because of the war, and he was furious. Furious because Voldemort had killed his family - because the corrupted government had let that much amount of damage happen.
And so the muggle who lost his poor muggleborn daughter, his poor, sickly muggle wife, gathered other muggleborn families, gathered muggles - gathered the world, and turned them all against wizards and witches.
It was fine for the first couple of months after the war. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. All they were doing was rebuilding the school and reevaluating the members of the Ministry.
And then the Statute of Secrecy was broken.
It was so abrupt, so sudden, and so, so spread out all over that doing damage control was difficult. Yes, it would be difficult, but they could still handle it.
But before they could even finish obliviating all the muggles, a similar thing happened all over the globe.
All. Over. The. Globe.
Damage control was useless, especially with the muggles' so-called televisions and radios and internet. Several wizards and witches were a bit cautious, what with the witch trials back when, but some were also rather relieved that the Statute of Secrecy was broken. It meant that they were finally free.
For all that the muggles embraced them with open arms, it all went downhill when they found out about the war.
How they had children fight their war, how the government did nothing, how everything was left to a school of underage children. A school - a school - was a place to learn, a place of comfort, a place where children meet others their age and be… children. It wasn't supposed to be a place where you had to grow up faster than you're supposed to, or a place where you had to fight to see the next day.
But that wasn't the end, wasn't it?
No, when the muggles found out about the discrimination, the reason for the war, the deaths caused by the war, the actions the government turned a blind eye on, they were furious.
That man had succeeded in the first step of his plans.
The next step was fear-mongering.
And it was more than successful.
The muggles grew terrified; they would attack people with the same power as theirs, they cultivated their children into soldiers, hell, they started a war because they hated muggles, so what would stop them from mass murdering other muggles?
The wizards were no match for the utter bloodshed muggle technology brought them.
"Hermione, are you close?" Ron asked nervously, eyeing the door in front of them, spelled with all the protective spells they could think of, and blocked with the heaviest objects in the room. Yet they could still hear the destruction going on behind it.
"Don't you rush me, Ronald Weasley!" she hissed back, brows furrowed in concentration.
"Right, sorry," Ron said, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued staring at the door. A heavy hand laid on his shoulder, and his eyes snapped to meet vivid green eyes that looked as if they were glowing in the poorly lit room.
"We'll make it Ron," Harry gave a small smile. "We always did make it through the impossible, didn't we?"
Ron shot back a smile, and turned back to the door. He knew Harry didn't fully believe his own words, didn't really believe they would make it past this. Maybe it was because Harry was… tired. Maybe it was because he didn't want to fight anymore, or because he was tired of losing the people he cared for.
But Ron was glad. And even if Harry didn't believe his own words, Ron will.
For him, Ron will.
"Okay, it's done," Hermione said, catching their attention. "One of you, come here."
"You first," Harry nudged Ron's shoulder. "I'll keep a lookout."
Ron nodded and rushed to Hermione. They both drank the potion Hermione had recently brewed. It tasted horrible, but he knew it would all be worth it in the end.
"Okay, you're next, mate," Ron called out, stepping back to his previous position beside Harry. Harry nodded at him and went to Hermione.
After a moment, he saw Harry step beside him on the corner of his eye, and Hermione stepping after on the other side of Harry.
"Remember, the potion's effects start after a few minutes," Hermione informed them. "We only need to hold out for that long."
There was a moment of silence, and all Ron could hear was the loud beating of his heart and the muffled yells and bombs and gunfire behind the door.
They all flinched when a loud bang resonated through the door.
"I found something!" they heard a muffled voice behind the door exclaim.
The three of them met each other's eyes, and nodded; this is it. They turned back to look at the door and Ron took a deep breath.
"If we go down," Harry started.
"... then we go down together." Ron continued with a glint in his tired eyes.
Hermione nodded with a small smile, "Let's show them we are better."
At that moment, a blinding sound erupted from the heavily bolted, heavily blocked door, and all three snapped back into a fighting stance.