A young woman leaned against the cold brick wall, seemingly not noticing or not caring that the cold November afternoon called for more than a short sleeve cotton robe and sandals. Her coordinated outfit and combed hair provided an effective illusion that she was actually in control of things that her world wasn't falling apart around her.
Her cold, dark brown eyes darted too and fro as she watched some first years play "war" out in the yard. One of them pretended to be inured, and fell to the ground, dying dramatically. She shook her head at their antics. Had she once been that naïve, that foolish?
She remembered once having that familiar twinkle in her eye, longing for the adventure, glory, and romance of war. It hadn't been until she had experienced war first hand that she had learned war had nothing to do with adventure, glory or romance. War was only two things: life and death. For the majority of her friends and family, war had meant the latter.
She signed, sadly knowing that the children before her would not learn this until they saw a loved one die themselves. And even more sadly still, she knew most them would learn this lessen, some probably already had.
She gazed longingly at the horizon, wishing she could reach out and ride it, to reach peaceful oblivion where none of the horrid things of the world could reach her. Because really, what chance did they have? It was hardly a war anymore, only a handful of rebels fighting against overwhelming odds.
But she would not waver, she knew her duty. She did not ever hope of actually winning, but perhaps she could keep her resistance group alive long enough for the next generation – the group of children in front of her now – to possibly defeat the enemy.
A lone tear rolled down her face at the memories of the people who had already given their lives to the cause. Flashes of the battle, and the battlefield afterwards, coursed through her mind. Had it only been yesterday that she had helped to label all the dead bodies that had littered the ground?
Her gaze wandered to the sun, and she shook her fist at it, silently cursing it for giving the earth such a beautiful day. How dare it shine its merry rays when so many of her friends and family lay dead?
She softly prayed for rain, at least then she could fool herself into thinking that the universe cared about what happened on earth. But no, the stars kept their orbits, the tides kept their schedule, and the sun kept on shining. What care they for the petty affairs of men?
Hermione Granger blinked away tears and reapplied her mask of calm. The war was far from over. There was work to be done.
Well, what did you think? This is my first Harry Potter fan fic….hec, this is my first anything fan fic. So now be a good little boy or girl and press that pretty little review button!