A.N.: I've seen a lot of fics that are inspired by quotes, so I felt like doing one...hehe. Anyway, here goes nothing. In case your wondering, I have no clue who Tacitus was nor have I read Agricola, whatever that is. I just liked the quote (I found it in my little precious dictionary of quotes).
Disclaimer: I'm J.K. I'm j/k.
-Tacitus (in Agricola)
Ginny stared out the window at the rain. It was her first rain in the new house, and thank God it had happened; the house was, before the rain, caked with dirt on all sides. Damn it, they hated it. The house was dirty, ugly, and foreign to the family. Recalling the Burrow, she suppressed a sob as she wished they could return to it. Sure, the Burrow was a bit...different, and sure it was no Malfoy Manor, but it had been clean, and cozy, and...well....a home. This was just a house.
But that was the price of peace, they were told. Ginny scowled. Some peace. More of a desert than peace. Of course, they pretended to go along with it -- if you didn't like "peace," you were a villain, a traitor, a pariah of society. It was part of Cornelius Fudge's new regime, and to Ginny, she couldn't help recalling the "McCarthyism" they had learned when they studied Muggle History during Muggle Studies.
On either side, you couldn't speak against "peace." The merest complaint brought you to the Board of Misconduct, a board created particularly for this purpose. That was what happened to Hermione Granger.
She let the tears come openly into her eyes. She didn't care. They could get mad at you for crying about the imprisonment and punishment of a "traitor," an "infidel," they could make you an infidel for doing that even. But they couldn't tell what she was thinking. They'd taken everything else away from her, but not her freedom to think what she want. And she would keep that freedom no matter how hard they tried to take it away. A fierce expression came upon her face.
She still remembered it. She had just had a fight with Hermione. She wished she'd somehow knew. If she knew what was about to happen she would have been nice to Hermione, not fought at least. Would she?
Or does the desert they create really change anything? Would they still have fought? Maybe no matter how dry the desert you still fight about the little things instead of trying to get water.
It was a stupid fight. Hermione had just started dating Harry. "You bitch," Ginny had said. "Harry is mine! I can't believe you stole him." All that had happened was she had danced with him once last year, but it was enough. Stupid of her, really, but we can all do stupid things in the name of love.
Does this mean that we can do stupid things in the name of peace too? Ginny wondered. Because what they did was certainly stupid. Not just stupid -- cruel, inhumane, and unforgivable. Definitely unforgivable. No matter what the justifications -- peace, lasting resolution to the conflict, whatever -- it was definitely unforgivable.
It was Hermione's graduation speech that had done it. Stupid girl, to give such a...anti-peace speech. But that was Hermione: brave and outspoken.
"I'm pleased to take my place as Hogwarts Head Girl and Valedictorian today," Hermione had begun. A normal enough beginning. Not a precursor of a speech that was to ruin her life. "I first want to thank all my teachers for what they've done for me to develop myself as a student and as a human being. I also wish to give my heartfelt thanks to all my friends and classmates, especially Harry, Ron, and Ginny, the last of whom is in her sixth year.
"Before I leave the stage today I'd like to say a few words about a recent issue. As most of you know, Minister Fudge and Voldemort have declared a 'peace.'
"They call it peace but is it one?" Hermione asked, voice loud and strong and defiant, face red. People were looking at her wondering how she could be defying the precious peace. "It is not! I'd like to quote from a piece of literature I once read: 'They make a desert and call it peace.' What we live in today, whichever side we be on, is a barren desert with few oases, the few oases being closed whenever they are found.
"We are no longer people but merely objects. Why? For this is the only way to achieve their false peace today -- to make us objects, moved and fiddled with however the 'peace-makers' may choose. They uproot us from our homes and move us to 'designated areas' for our side. This is meant to separate the two sides -- but does it not separate us also from our home, from our love, from everything we chose to know?
"We are no longer the humans who ate the fruit of knowledge of good and evil and therefore became a choice-making being. Now we are just like all others, with no choice but only what we are forced to do.
"This is not a peace, I tell you, and I commend those who understand. This is a false and poorly-made replica of such a thing, and like all poorly-made things, it shall too crumble. We know not when, but when it does, a greater disaster than the war we supposedly are stopping will occur.
"I am not trying to speak against peace because I love war. I am speaking against false peace because I hate war, and all that can come of false peace is war. I speak not against peace but against war as I stand before you today!
"I am trying to destroy it before too many grow attached to it, before it becomes too important, so that we may not have such awful results when it must be destroyed, and so that we will again be humans and not mere objects.
"I know that I may not withstand because of this, just as some do not withhold their attempt to escape the dry, barren lands of a desert. But at least I have tried.
"I leave you today with one thought: "They make a desert and call it peace."
She looked at them all and without saying thank you, or I'm pleased to have had the opportunity, or anything, she stepped down the the silence of the audience.
Then they had fought.
And then Hermione had been imprisoned.
Oh damn it. How could they do it to Hermione? She hated how the desert killed and dried out everyone who didn't just succumb to it and give up their free will. It hated those who didn't let it do what it wanted to them. She hated this peace. Wasn't peace supposed to be loving and fruitful and magnificent? So why did it seem so hateful and barren and terrible?
A small sob escaped Ginny as she stared out the window, living in this desert they called peace. Oh she hated the barren, dry land she lived in now. She hated this wasteland of peace, where the tension in the air told of a war that would ravage the desert even worse than before.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and abruptly turned around, trying to stop the tears coursing down her face, hold the sobs that were racking her body.
It was her father. "What's wrong, honey? It's all okay now in our new house, in the new circumstances. We have peace now and it's all okay. What could be wrong?"
"Nothing, Daddy," Ginny sobbed. "Nothing could be wrong when we have peace."