❝𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲?❞
❝𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 had a few, perhaps a little or more than a palm of qualms in his life. First up was the whole "The Boy-Who-Lived" shenanigans, then there was an ungodly am...
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FOR EVERMORE
━━━━━━
"I had a feeling so peculiar
This pain wouldn't be for evermore"
THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS WAS nothing but bloody. There wasn't a single wizard or witch, or anyone in general, who didn't know that. A place that once uplifted young wizards' and witches' talents now lay in ruins, its hallowed halls forever scarred by the ravages of war. The grandeur and warmth that Hogwarts once held were replaced by cold, echoing memories of the horrors that had unfolded within its walls.
Nothing was ever the same after that.
The wizarding world had been irrevocably changed by the war. The Ministry of Magic, now under the new leadership of Kingsley Shacklebolt, was slowly being rebuilt. Trust, however, was a fragile thing, and it was undoubtedly clear that it would take a long time for the Ministry to regain it. The corruption and fear that had seeped into its core during Voldemort's reign left a stain that would not be easily washed away.
Hogwarts was now closed, at least until further notice, but there were whispers of reconstruction, a beacon of hope that it would rise again. They still needed a school after all; the future depended on it. Yet, during these moments, it gave everyone a chance to reflect on the war that had changed everything.
Every corner of the wizarding world bore the marks of the conflict. Families were torn apart, friendships strained, and entire communities left to rebuild from the ashes of their former lives. The sense of loss was palpable, a heavy shroud that covered the world even as the first glimmers of hope began to break through. There was relief in the air, yes, but it was mingled with sorrow, a bittersweet reminder of the cost of freedom...
Marjorie awoke with a start, the remnants of her dreams slipping away like smoke. She lay in her bed at Crescent Cottage, the morning light filtering through the curtains. The quiet was unsettling, a stark contrast to the cacophony of battle that still echoed in her mind.
"Marie, wake up. It's time for breakfast," she heard Percy call out from downstairs, his voice warm and familiar.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she stretched and pushed the blankets aside. She could almost smell the bacon frying and hear Anya's laughter. As she made her way down the stairs, the memories of their last breakfast together washed over her, filling her with a bittersweet nostalgia.
She entered the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room for Percy and Anya. They were there, Percy at the stove, cooking up eggs, and Anya setting the table, her cheeks flushed with laughter. It felt so real, so tangible, that Marjorie's heart swelled with a momentary peace.
