There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
Tears drying on their face.

Looking around at the battlefield that the war had made of her school, Minerva shook her head; she watched as those who had survived the battle collected the wounded Death Eaters and sent them off to Azkaban. At the same time students searched through the piles of bodies, hoping to find their missing friends, fearing the worst but daring to hope. It amazed her how grown up they all were, normal children could not so carelessly budge a dead body in order to find their friends, let alone the many that they were shifting as she watched on. But in these troubled times there was no room for the innocence of youth, no time for childish games or foolish pranks. This was war and everyone was in it, there was no standing on the sidelines, for those who did were surely dead.

He has been here.

This is the price of war, she thought bitterly as a tear escaped her strict composure. The self-proclaimed dark lord believed his greatest crime would be ridding the world of 'mud-bloods' (not that he saw that as a crime). But this was his greatest crime, what gave him the right to steal the innocence of everyone he met? How dare he, the tears of her blind fury streamed down her face, if he weren't dead she would have finished the job herself, for if a look could kill surely it would be the one Minerva wore at that moment. This war had taken so much from their community and from her, and yet she had no time to stop and mourn the losses dealt to her, there would be time to mourn later, she hoped.

Brothers lie in shallow graves.
Fathers lost without a trace.
A nation blind to their disgrace,
Since he's been here.

Still standing on the steps of her school, her beloved Hogwarts, she slipped into the painful memories of that night, the night when she had been served with the first loss of the war that had been the first and deepest cut.

Flashback

It was during the summer and so Minerva was in her home, she sat in the lounge room reading one of her newest books on transfiguration methods when a large tawny owl began to tap at her window. Rising slowly she opened the window and took the envelope, on seeing the official ministry seal she became almost too afraid to open it, she turned the envelope over to see it addressed to 'Mr. and Mrs. A. Dumbledore.' Her hands shook so much that she dropped the envelope. Unable to face the news the envelope held Minerva chose to wait for her husband to return.

Albus returned home some time after midnight to find Minerva crumpled on the floor by the window, face down. Fearing that the worst had happened he rushed to her side; she was breathing.

"Min, wake up." When she did not stir he began to gently shake her shoulder. "Tabby, please my dear, you must wake up, you can't just sleep on the floor, it'll take you a week to get up."

"Albus, is that you dear?"

"Yes, Tabby, now why are you asleep on the floor?"

"I dropped the letter, and when I bet to pick it up I found I was too afraid to open it and so I decided to wait for you to come home." She said, still somewhat groggy from being woken.

For the first time Albus glimpsed the letter in his wife's hand, instantly he understood, that letter could contain no good news; that was a next of kin letter. "Well no sense in staring at it all night, we should open it."

"You do it Albus, I'm not sure I want to know what it says."

"I'm sure I don't want to know what it says, but I shall open it anyway." Carefully Albus opened and read the letter, he was right the letter was not good news, in fact the news would crush Minerva. "Tabby, my dear, it's the worst."

"Who is dead Albus? One of our babies?" She always referred to them as her babies despite the fact that their youngest child was well in her thirties.

"Unfortunately it is worse than that, here I shall read it to you. "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dumbledore, we regret to inform you that your sons Andrew and Jonathan have been killed by the followers of he-who-must-not-be-named. We extend to you our deepest condolences. Sincerely Benjamin Wianwrite, head of the department of magical law enforcements.""

"Both of our boys, Albus are you sure?"

"That's what the letter says, I know you are upset, I am as well, but they held dangerous jobs at a dangerous time, you cannot tell me that it was not a possibility."

"I knew that it was an all too real possibility, but that doesn't mean I miss them any less. Albus, they were my babies, our boys, and now they're names on a list of fatalities, how does that happen?"

Albus knew it wasn't an answer that Minerva wanted and so he held her, and waited as her sobs ran their course, they remained on the floor for the rest of the night, clinging to each other and mourning the loss of their sons for one night. For tomorrow they would have to return to reality, time for proper mourning would come later, after the war, Merlin willing they should live to see that day.

End Flashback

She had thought that she would not feel so empty for the rest of her years, but then she had received the news just three months prior that her eldest daughter's husband, whom she loved as dearly as she did any of her own children, had been captured. Her daughter, Audrey, had come to her for help after receiving the letter, but there was not much hope Minerva could offer her third child, and so she simply gathered Audrey in her arms and said nothing; willing for everything to be alright, she could not bear another loss.

And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.


After the night which they were told of their sons' deaths a part of both Albus and Minerva had died, quite understandably, but died nevertheless. The twinkle Albus' eyes were so known for appeared less and less, and Minerva's firm façade, usually confined to the classroom, became a permanent fixture, she became less approachable and appeared quite bitter to those who didn't know the truth. Once in her eyes a fire had shined, one that would rival the twinkle of his, but now that fire was out, her best friend and confidant Poppy had said it was her Gryffindor pride burning through, but now there was no Gryffindor pride left in her, no passion for teaching, all that filled her eyes was an all-consuming emptiness, that she would try so hard to mask, but her closest friends knew the truth.

Houses burnt beyond repair.
The smell of death is in the air.
A woman weeping in despair says,
He has been here.

In the aftermath of the war it became clear just how much was lost, there had been so much damage done, that much of it could never hope to be repaired, there were houses dilapidated and families ruined, nothing could have prepared their community for the shear destruction wrought by Voldemort. As the sun came up on the first day after the final battle still to be found on the grounds of the school were hundreds of bodies, despite a clean-up effort that ran throughout the night, there were simply too many dead.

Minerva walked out onto the grounds at first light to help with the cleaning, she had spent all night helping in the hospital wing, the many years of helping Poppy study for her healer training had allowed her to take a firm grasp of at least the basics. Surveying the sweeping lawns Minerva looked to see where she would be most needed. She found where she was needed, Molly Weasley stood by the lake, not participating, which could only mean something was wrong.

Minerva hurried to the younger woman's side, she noticed that Molly stared out over the lake, but clearly did not take in a thing she was seeing, there was an all too familiar far off expression in Molly's eyes, and Minerva had a decent idea of what was wrong.

"Molly, what happened?" Minerva asked her gently.

"I found Percy – over there." She gestured vaguely behind her, as she broke down into sobs.

"Molly, I'm so sorry, I know the loss must be hard." Minerva tried to comfort her.

"You don't understand, it's not just that he was dead, it's that he was one of them!" Molly cried desperately.

It took a moment for Molly's words to reach Minerva, she didn't understand; Percy a Death Eater, certainly the boy was ambitious, but she didn't think he was the ruthless killing type. "Are you sure Molly?"

"Don't you think I've seen enough Death Eaters to recognize one Minerva?"

"I do not doubt that Molly, it just seems odd for Percy, that's all."

"We haven't spoken in months, he became too ambitious when he started in the ministry, and he always disapproved of the order, I guess he got too caught up in his struggle for power."

"Molly you seem too calm for a woman who just lost a son."

"But that's just it, I didn't just lose a son, I lost him long ago, we all did, it just became clearer tonight that I stopped seeing him as my son long ago. Does that make sense?"

"Surprisingly yes, even toward the end of his schooling he began to become more ambitious, unhealthily so, I think now that I should have tried harder to get through to him."

"It's not your fault Minerva, Percy was always different, he never had the flair that the others have, he was always too safe, he never stepped outside the square."

Minerva hugged Molly to her as she began to cry at the thought of Percy her son, not Percy the Death Eater. "Shh, it's alright, I understand what it is to lose a son, don't worry."

"You lost a son?"

"Two, during the first rise of Voldemort; my two eldest sons were aurors they were killed fighting side by side in an attack in Diagon Alley." Minerva sniffed at the recollection of her sons.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know, and here I am saying I'm not all that sad to find Percy dead, you must think me horrible."

"Not at all, you said yourself that you've long considered Percy to be dead, in all senses but literal, now you have closure."

"Thank you Minerva."

"Anytime."

Tracer lighting up the sky.
It's another families' turn to die.
A child afraid to even cry out says,
He has been here.

At the end of the day Minerva sighed in relief, finally they had removed all of the wreckage from the school grounds, being the start of holidays Minerva entered her rooms and found her bags packed, ready for her to leave. She arrived at her home to find the dark mark floating over her house; she dropped her things and ran inside, afraid of what she would find.

The kitchen was the scene of devastation, Audrey was lain face down on the floor her pale skin as cold as ice, Minerva searched in vain for a pulse, for any sign of life. A tear escaped from her eye as she moved to the next room. There on the floor was her eldest granddaughter, Merrin, she too as lifeless as her mother. Carefully Minerva progressed through her home, in each room finding another loved one dead; her sons, her daughters, her sister and her grandchildren, all home for the summer, prepared to celebrate the end of the war as a family, all of them as unmoving as the last.

As she reached the final door, she mentally went through every body that she had found, hoping that there should be no one else in the house, there was one person she had yet to find, her youngest grandson, Americ.

"Please no, he is too young." She muttered to no one as she pushed the door to the nursery open. She looked in his cot, where he should have been, she looked throughout the room but she could not find him anywhere. "Americ?" she called, knowing it was hopeless.

"Gran?" A weak voice drifted to her sensitive ears.

Minerva rushed over to his cot, she bent down and there huddled on the floor was her three year old grandson, shaken but alive.

"It was him Gran."

"I know dear, I know."

And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.

Much later that evening, after she had reported the attack on her home to the ministry, Minerva readied herself for bed. She sat in front of her mirror to brush her hair when her bedroom door opened. Silently her husband entered the room silent tears flowing from his eyes, he came to stand behind her and she locked eyes with him, losing herself in the depths of his crystal blue eyes.

"He betrayed us Tabby, that's how they knew to come here." Albus spoke after a long moment.

"Severus? But how could he? After all we did for him."

"I don't know what to think, he has been put in Azkaban for now, I will go to him this week and find out why."

"Be careful."

"Always."

Looking into his eyes had always calmed her, it was a symbol of the one place she felt safe, with him, now as she studied his expressive eyes she saw something missing, his twinkle had finally diminished completely; with this final blow to them he had been crushed.

There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
But no one asks the question why,

He has been here.

The next day Minerva joined in on the wider cleanup effort, she started in Hogsmede. Slowly she made her way to the building at the back of the village that she knew so well, a daycare centre where all of her children had gone during the day when she was teaching. Fearing it would prove too much for her, but knowing she had to do it, she entered the building. The sight which met her eyes was not what she'd expected.

Inside there were bodies strewn everywhere but this was not the senseless massacre she had seen everywhere else, this was ordered, there was method in this madness. Carefully each of the bodies had been placed on the ground, boys to the right, and girls to the left of the room. What kind of monsters were they to so carefully slaughter children no older than five, this would surely be one of the most torturous acts of the war.

Old men kneel to accept their fate.
Wives and daughters cut and raped.
A generation drenched in hate.
Yes, he has been here.

In the weeks that followed the end of the war stories popped up everywhere of torture, rape and death. The old, the weak, the 'unworthy', the best and the brightest, none were left without the scars of war; whether they be mental or physical everyone had been touched. For so many years their community had been living under fear, each side being taught to hate the other, but that solved nothing. Yes the war ended but the animosity, the bitterness, the separation all of these things continued, perhaps they would always remain.

And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.

The one thing that everyone had in common was fear. Everyone feared the next dark lord, who would it be, what would he do? Everyone lived in fear, due to the actions of one man. A man who wished to annihilate a portion of society, the greater portion, a man who failed in his goal, but succeeded in pushing prejudices to a new level, forcing an already dwindling society to the very brink of destruction.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Just over three weeks from the end of the war and it seemed that finally the wizarding world could fall back into some form of normalcy. There was to be a memorial service that day on the grounds of Hogwarts, a huge memorial had been built with room for the name of every fatality of the war.

The service itself was simple, no romanticizing the war, no glorifying heroes, simply commending those who died for their sacrifice to those who survived. At the end of the service everyone moved to the marble wall to write messages of hope and love in memory of the deceased. Slowly the crowd around the wall lessened until finally only one woman remained; Minerva. As Minerva stepped away form the wall the few people who had yet to leave looked at her message.

For my children, my family my friends, for those I'd met but once and for those I've yet to meet, this is to let you know that you did not die in vain.

A/N: Well this is just an idea I had when I listened to No Bravery by James Blunt who owns the lyrics used above, I hope you liked it, please review and tell me what you think. As always my policy is constructive criticism and compliments are more than welcome, flames however are not.