Palladium: anything believed to provide protection or safety; safeguard.

April 15, 2003

Zacharias didn't look at the huge marble pyramid that dominated the Ministry's atrium. He never did. It was raining outside – had been every morning for the past week – and he was too busy cursing under his breath and trying to dry his navy blue work robes with his wand to spare the monument covered in the names of the fallen a glance.

But someone else did. His wand gave a sudden spurt of burning heat, and when he leapt backwards with a yelp, he nearly knocked her face-first into the pyramid.

"Sorry," he grunted, hastily stepping away.

The young woman turned to look at him and he realized with a shock of recognition, who she was. Susan Bones, a housemate from the year above him and the first member of the DA he'd run into in several years. Maybe even as many as five. The long plait that had characteristically fallen down her back in school had been cut off so that her hair swished around her chin now, and there was a thin scar running across her right temple, but it was unmistakably Susan.

For a moment he hoped she wouldn't recognize him, but then he remembered that he didn't care what any of them thought about him not wanting to die in that battle anyway.

"Zacharias!" she said, wiping at her cheeks (which he suddenly realized were damp) and attempting to give him a watery smile. "It's been ages, hasn't it? I wondered if I'd run into anybody else…."

"Er…." Zacharias said, taking another surreptitious step away. He hadn't the slightest inkling of what she was talking about and really just wanted to hurry away and never find out. Because more than likely it had something to do with that stupid monument. The one he had grown to despise slightly each time he came into work and had to remember the most horrible night in recent wizarding history. Not that he would know first-hand, or anything, but still….

Susan sensed his confusion. "Megan…" she said uncertainly, gesturing vaguely toward (sure enough) the war memorial. "Megan Jones? It would be her birthday today. Her 23rd birthday. She was in my dormitory. I mean, I never thought you two were close, but we all ran in the same circles…."

She trailed off, looking at his uncomprehending face with consternation. Zacharias had a vague memory of a soft-spoken girl with thick, chestnut pigtails, but if this girl was Megan Jones, it was news to him.

Susan turned her gaze back to the names cut into the marble. She stepped forward and lightly traced her fingers over on in particular, and even though Zacharias was trying to slip away without being too terribly rude, he couldn't help but note that it was Megan's name coupled with the dates of her birth and death: April 15, 1980-May 2, 1998.

"I thought you might have seen it, is all," Susan said over her shoulder, pinning Zacharias once more in place.

He fancied there was something accusatory in her eyes, which might have been the reason for the defensiveness in his voice as he told her gruffly, "I don't look much at the damned thing, actually."

Susan's mouth dropped open. "But… it's a commemoration piece… a tribute to everyone who gave their lives. While you ran off to hide, I might add," she said in a distinctly angry tone.

Zacharias knew he was a coward. It was, ironically, the one thing he was not afraid to admit. So this remark didn't cut him too deeply.

"Doesn't mean I care to be reminded of hundreds of murders every time I walk into work," he said dismissively. "It's fine to commemorate heroes, but they don't have to do it right in the middle of a workplace. You can't tell me you like being reminded of your friends being slaughtered every morning. It's ridiculous, if you ask me."

Susan's face was stony now, her jaw set as she straightened her shoulders. She jabbed a finger at the base of the stone monument, where elegant letters proclaimed May Their Memories Never Die.

"They put this here so that no one would ever forget what Megan and all the rest did for us," she said coolly. "A safeguard to make sure we never let something like this happen again."

With one more cold look, Susan Bones turned and walked stiffly away. It would be another several years before he had another conversation with one of the comrades-in-arms he'd turned his back on.

That day Zacharias Smith began to realize that maybe he was ashamed of being a coward after all. And to make sure he never forgot it, he took a moment to look over at the gleaming white pyramid – a testament to bravery – each evening before he left.

A/N: I am a Hufflepuff. Self-declared and then confirmed by the Sorting Hat itself. So maybe that's why I happen to like all those relatively story-less Hufflepuffs we don't get to hear too much about. Speaking of, I found that link to the essay about Harry's classmates on the Lexicon. You know, the one I was talking about in the chapter with Justin? Here it is: http:/www(dot)hp-lexicon(dot)org/essays/essay-secrets-of-the-classlist(dot)html replace all dots with actual periods, though, of course.

And again, so sorry for being so far behind. Life's been crazy, we'll just say that.