The Resistance
By Cat & Jaine
Disclaimer: We own no part of Harry Potter, and are not affiliated in any
way, shape, or form to J.K. Rowling. This is all for fun. Get it? Now get.
February 20, 2003
Sixteen. Fucking sixteen.
She never stood a chance.
Boot had forbade his younger sister, Annie, to become an Auror. The War had broken out just as she'd been accepted into Hogwarts. She didn't even have the most basic training in proper wand usage and magic. She'd been too young.
Annie had raged for days, but in the end reverted to volunteering at the hospitals as the battles grew more and more frequent and the men and women who returned grew less and less in number.
An old friend of his, the late Belinda Dunstan, had taken his younger sister under her wing and taught her the basics of Healing. Annie had spent everyday there ever since.
"I want to help."
And he had relented, something he sorely regretted now. A hospital had a million fucking wards, he had thought, there was no way the Death Eaters could take down St. Mungo's. He had long since learned not to underestimate the enemy.
Mungo's had been attacked four times in the past six years. Though the Death Eaters had never taken the hospital, it was so beat-up and grimy that it hardly resembled what it used to be. The walls were patched together with weak spells, random floors had been wiped out, and half the staff had been casualties at one point or another. But despite all of that, reluctant as he'd been, he had allowed Annie to continue assistant nursing.
Then she had branched out to Healing for the Aurors. She had been damn good at what she did. She picked up the tricks fast, she had talent, quick hands, and a shining personality. She had carried happiness with her. Always.
So she had begun visiting temporary hospital wards to heal wounded Aurors.
And yesterday. she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Boot heard the bottle smash against the floor as he dropped it.
So many faces. The voices.
They were mixed in with the screams now, and the sobbing. The wailing and sound of plaster exploding, bodies being torn apart, dead weight hitting the pavement after an Unforgivable was cast.
He did what he hadn't been able to do since the War had begun.
He cried.
