A/N: This was inspired by a poem that I attempted to write for school. The poem turned out pretty bad, but the story didn't, thankfully. This hasn't been beta-ed, so please bear with me here.

The Lotus

The petals shimmered softly. Tiny water droplets adorned the delicate petals of white and pink as these two colors gently flowed into one another, creating the perfect blend of soft beauty. The rich green lily pad beneath supported this fragile lotus as if it were made of thin glass. The dark, cool water was peaceful. Not a single ripple disturbed the surface. However, as the flower floated past, its reflection became distorted. The dark waters did not display the beauty and perfection of this sole living plant, but the imperfections, the strangeness, and the distorted shapes of the lotus.

A small, delicate hand broke through the surface of the water, making ripples that spurred the lotus flower forward on its purposeless path. The young girl, the owner of this hand, sighed softly into the night. She stood up, her gaze raised toward the heavens. It is a starry night, she observed. It was probably an illustration of all the losses they, the survivors, had suffered. She sighed again as she spun around, towards the forest behind her... or the forest that used to be behind her.

It was in ruins. The culprit? The red-orange flames that continued to roar upwards toward the brilliant stars overhead. The flames licked at the remnants of century-old trees that had once stood tall and proud, their green heads overlooking their surroundings. Now these trees were reduced to pitiful sticks in piles upon piles of ashes. It was indeed a sorry sight and heart wrenchingly painful. The girl's heard broke as she watched. The old forest was now merely smoking stumps. The underbrush, the grasses, and the berry trees all vanished amidst the black ashes. Nothing was spared. Except for the lone lotus, still floating, oblivious, in the small lake.

Her eyes filled with tears as she reminisced. She wept for her friends, lost in the ashes. She wept for those who weren't as lucky. Those who perished. She wept for her parents, who had been killed in their sleep. She wept even for her enemies, who were still human beings no matter how many inhumane crimes they had committed. She wept for herself. For having survived and remained free while so many undeserving others didn't make it. She hated this war. This end. Because she knew that it did not matter who won the war. When it came to war, everyone lost. Even the victors.

She felt a hand being placed lightly on her shoulder. She jumped, but relaxed as she realized that it was merely her best friend.

"You'll catch a nasty cold if you stay here like this," he said, his voice full of sorrow and concern. "Let's go, Hermione."

She was irresponsive. She neither moved, nor formed a single word.

"There is no use in staying here," he said reasonably. "There is nothing we can do to change what happened."

When she was still silent, he sighed. He took off his heavy black cloak and wrapped it around his trembling best friend.

"We should be happy. We won," he said without much conviction, himself.

This unlocked her quivering lips at last. "Does this really seem like winning to you?" Her voice cracked with emotion.

It was his turn to be silent.

"Look at the destruction, the losses," she said, fresh tears pouring out from her eyes. "Yes, Harry. You saved the world again. But looked at what you've saved!" She gestured wildly around her.

These last words pierced his heart, but he refused to show it. His silence urged her on.

"You—we—fought for freedom," she said. "Who's left to enjoy it? The surviving Death Eaters were captured and put in Azkaban. Our friends--our side... how many of them are left? Huh? Neville? Dean? Seamus? Lupin? Tonks? Sirius?"

He lowered his eyes.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Ginny, your old girlfriend?" She knew that she was hurting him, but she was unable to stop. "And what about Ron, huh? Wasn't he brave enough? Dedicated enough to our cause? Wasn't he our best friend? You were there when it happened. Why couldn't you have saved him?"

"I told you—" he began, but he was cut off.

"It doesn't matter," she said bitterly. "What matters is that... is that... he—he's... gone."

Her eyes welled up with fresh tears. Her head dropped on his shoulder, as she cried for her fallen friend, and everything else that went wrong. She barely felt his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. Why did it have to end this way? Was this victory truly worth all the casualties? Only time would be able to heal all of her deep wounds. But as she poured out her tears onto her friend's shoulder, she was relieved to find that some of the pain that had settled heavily in her heart lifted. As her sobs gradually quieted. Soon, silence reigned once more, as the two friends became lost in their own thoughts. When she broke the silence, her tone was soft. Apologetic.

"I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I just... snapped. I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," he said. She did not know how grateful he had felt when she uttered the last two words. "I understand. We went through all the same things."

"I have to disagree. You went through so much more than I could ever imagine. You are the real hero. You are Harry Potter. My outbursts were selfish, and I was oblivious to your pain."

"You were right though. I just refused to believe it until now."

"Well, I should never have been so harsh to you. You are our savior after all."

"Without the strategies you and Ron devised, we would never have won."

"Me?" she muttered. "All I know is from books."

"And those books saved us," he responded with a small smile on his lips.

She returned the smile before turning toward the lotus flower. It rested in the middle of the lake, still oblivious to the destruction around it. This time, its beauty was different. Its purity and innocence sent off a brilliant aura that covered up the imperfections, the strangeness, and the distortions of its reflection. After all, it was only a reflection. The real lotus flower was still unblemished; its purity and clarity added to its indisputable beauty. This instilled new found hope into the young girl's heart. Her heart swelled with the prospect of a future with peace, happiness, and prosperity. So when her dark-haired companion offered to take her home for the second time, she gladly accepted. The two friends left the site of chaos to begin building a new world, and they never again came to dwell on the painful memories, but to remember the happier, more peaceful times they shared with the late third member of their former trio.

As for the lotus, it was soon washed upon the banks when a particularly tall and large tree trunk fell into the water, causing the enormous waves to send the lotus upon the earth. Not long later, it began to wilt. Its beautiful white and pink petals fell onto the earth. Soon, it was gone. It was the last memory of beauty in a destroyed world. Of honesty in a wicked forest of lies. And shadows of what used to be. It was forgotten.

Fin

A/N 2: Please review! You know how we, authors, live on reviews! It could keep me going for days.