There Are No Winners
It was over, and they all knew it. No more Voldemort, no more killing, no more fighting. No more war. But unlike the rest of the wizarding world, the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix were not celebrating. Instead, they sat in Dumbledore's office, in a circle. Silence reigned.
Albus Dumbledore was the first to break the quiet stillness of the room. He rose from his seat and crossed the office to his desk, where he opened a draw and picked up a box of long, thin white candles. He sat down, lit one with his wand and placed it on the coffee table in the centre of the circle.
"For my brother, Aberforth Dumbledore," he said softly, before passing the box onto Professor Snape, who sat on his right.
The Potions Master mirrored his actions, saying "For my wife Hannah, and our daughter Cassie."
If anyone was surprised by this dedication, they did not show it. Everyone knew that now was not the time for questions, it was the time to mourn the dead and those left behind.
Each member lit a candle, murmuring the name or names of those they wished to remember.
"For my brother Bilius," Arthur Weasley whispered.
Molly lit hers for her parents, casualties of the first war, and Bill for his wife of two weeks Fleur, who had been given the Dementor's Kiss. Charlie's was for his best friend from school, Marisa Spinnet, George's for Lee Jordan, who had died in the final battle, and Fred's for Katie Bell, killed by Lucius Malfoy as she left Platform 93/4 for the last time.
"For Neville Longbottom, and his parents," was Ron's contribution, and they all paused to remember the boy who fell to the same fate as his parents, at the hands of the same tormentor, Bellatrix Lestrange.
"For Victor Krum." Hermione.
"For Colin Creevy" Ginny whispered when her turn came.
Fellow members of the Order were remembered: Arabella Fig, Mugdungus Fletcher, Professor McGonagall, Tonks and Alastor Moody.
"For Prongs and his Lily-Flower" Sirius murmured, followed by Remus who said "For Wormtail, a brother despite what he did".
Percy was next. "For those who were put under the Imperious Curse." The occupants of the office bowed their heads in silent respect, remembering how Percy had been force to torture many muggles under the influence of the curse.
His wife Penelope, sat next to him, and whispered her dedication: to the orphans, widows, widowers and other loved ones of those who died.
Harry was last. "For Tom Riddle, who died at my hands." Each member of the circle gave Harry an encouraging smile. They all knew how much the death of another human, even if that human was the darkest wizard for centuries, weighed on his soul.
He passed the box, with one remaining candle, to his Headmaster, who added the final one to the coffee table with a soft "For all the casualties of war, because there are no winners, only survivors."
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