Lullaby for the Boy Who Lived To Die
2bfoundwanting
A pristine voice carried across the graveyard where thousands were gathered to mourn the death of one so young and heroic. As the voice drifted over the heads of little and old ones alike, each were taken away from their own worries. All that mattered now is that this boy, merely 18, died trying to save them. And it was apparently for nothing.
Lullay, Thou little
tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lullay, Thou little tiny
Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.
'Goodbye and we wish we were with you,' whispered Hermione Granger as a lone tear slipped down her cheek into the already soaking grass below.
'Goodbye, and how we miss you so,' murmured the once vibrant Ginny Weasley. The rest were silent, too caught up in how they missed the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Die.
They had this day, this one day, to grieve before their new 'master' made them forget about him forever.
O sisters, too,
how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor Youngling
for whom we sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Yes, Voldemort had won, and he being the ever merciful leader that he was, decided to give the wizard population one day to grieve their great and fallen hero.
Then it was back to work, back to serving him and no one was allowed to speak the name Harry Potter ever again. Voldemort had great plans for this world, great plans of destruction and ultimate power. The world of the future could not be seen by anyone but he, for it was too dark.
Death Eaters patrolled the premises so that no one could do anything but grieve in silence, dementors circled above and sucked away their little happiness. But, huddled together around Harry Potter's grieving friends, the masses felt safe, if only for this little while.
Herod the King, in
his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his
own sight,
All children young, to slay.
That's what Harry would have wanted, if it had to end this way, that people felt safe, that they stayed happy and kept rebelling, if only in their minds. But, woe, woe was for the people left behind.
Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and almost the entire Gryffindor class of Harry's year were in shackles on this sad day, and they were to be taken to Azkaban as soon as the sun set. There was little crying and little moaning, because the Gryffindors would preserve the tradition of courage, honor and strength, even if it meant slowly breaking inside.
The lone and pristine voice drifted atop the thousands of peoples heads, and as it died, so did the spirit of the free wizarding world.
Then woe is me,
poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say;
For Thy parting,
nor say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.