Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)
and furthermore, imagine all the hate this will breed for the years to come after, the chain reactions it will cause for the future, and possible revenge and war it will spark, the new generation of dark wizards
Ways you can help:
Hmm, sorry but I don’t think I’ve read one like that. I’ve read one where Hermione is trying to find a cure for Harry with Snape’s help, but that wasn’t cause of the effects of crucio.
Anyone else have any ideas on what this fic is called?
Post Tenebras, Lux? https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6578435/1/Post-Tenebras-Lux
This shit better work
HAH I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND LOOK WHAT I GOT FROM MY DAD TODAY OUT OF THE BLUE
what if we all got paper lolGUYS I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND I JUST GOT $150
I am not even kidding but I am reblogging this twice in a row because I just got $275.
I got $200 yay!
I reblogged this yesterday and today I got a check from the state because I overpaid my taxes…
Next time is in 11 years…look at a calendar people.
Yeah, more victim blaming.
Graham returned to Regina with a fake heart to try and trick her, in order to keep Snow alive. If he hadn’t returned there was no chance Regina would have believed Snow was dead.
But trying to trick a murderer who goes on to kill whole villages of people looking for Snow is totally as bad as Regina taking his heart, forcing him to do her will and then raping him for 40 years.
Yeah, no reason to feel sorry for Graham.
Oh, for fucks sakes, are you kidding me OP???!!!
US National Anthem in minor key.
Can this be the trailer music for the next dystopian movie?
If our government ever collapsed like in a book or a scary movie I really would love to see this become the national anthem
First time I’ve found the US Anthem epic.
Title: And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
Summary: Everyone needs salvation. When night falls and the Death-Eater returns to his dungeons, he finds his student waiting to bind his wounds. A classroom romance.
Word Count: 2,500