The End of the Begining-Part the Sixth
Percy was startled from his thoughts as the door opened behind him. Turning, he stared into Dumbledore’s kind, yet still haunted eyes. Dumbledore stared at him for a long moment before raising his wand.
Percy closed his eyes, body tense, but ready. Of course, Dumbledore was here. Neville had never really granted his freedom, and even if he did, Dumbledore, as the leader of the resistance, had the power to over throw him. Percy awaited the death he knew he deserved, awaited the escape from what he had become. The long silence stretched between them for eternity until…
"You’re release to my custody has been granted."
Percy opened one eye, looking at Dumbledore. "Huh?
*****
Dumbledore stared down at the students eating before him. Normalcy. That was what they were re-trying to capture. A bit of normalcy in the long road of healing. It was a hard thing to do of course, you couldn’t' just snap your fingers and make everything perfect again...things would change, things always changed but life did move on, dragging you kicking and screaming if you forced it to. The Sun would always rise, and it would always set, moving time forward, past the tragic events of your life and on towards the future. His gaze moved over his students...his children and he saw the horrors still etched on their faces. Family and friends were gone now, and all they had was each other. However, that was enough. They had stood together, not even fully grown yet, for something, better then they were, for the faiths and ideals they held dear. They had stood against enemy and friend alike, declaring their alliance to the light and god help them if they had been children of the dark before doing so.
Dumbledore allowed a small smile to creep across his face. They had won, not on the bodies of their foes or friends...though there were a lot of those. They had won long before the battle ever came to Hogwarts. They won by simply standing up and saying "No." and "This is wrong." They had won by believing they could...and choosing to fight for the only battle worth fighting for, the battle they believed in.
Dumbledore's gaze slid across the house table and rested on a young man, hunched over his foot, his cloak drawn over his head to hide his flaming red hair. No one looked at him, but everyone wondered. It was rare for a teacher...or adult member of Hogwarts to be so hidden away. In these time most of the walls were broken down and the teachers and students related on a more personal level...so who was this person that wished to hide?
Percy stared out from under his lashes, his vision partially obscured by the heavy cloak. There. Sitting between a blonde and two brunettes was his vision, the applet of his eyes...and all that other mush. Percy sighed softly, still stairing. The back of Neville's head always had been sexy...as was the front...and the sides...
*****
Colin played with his mashed potatoes slowly stirring them around and around till they mixed with he peas and made a kaleidoscope of ickyness. He sighed softly, stood, saying something in the ways of excuse to Neville, and hurried from the room. He closed his eyes once in the Entrance Hall, wondering, waiting. When no one came after him, he allowed a small smile as he raced up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. He had...things to do, people to meet...letters to leave. It was time.
Gathering his things, Colin's eyes rested on a picture frame on his night table. He picked it up carefully, running a finger over the face that was giving him an exasperated smile. With a gentle smile of his own he pulled the picture from the frame, tucked it into his pocket, right over his heart, and placed a small scroll where the frame sat. Turning around for one last look at his dorm room, He blew a small kiss good by the four empty poster beds and headed out of the room.
Hours later, Percy stumbled and fell over something small and crumbled. He looked back at the body, for that's the only thing it could be and slowly rolled it over. Colin's happy, tear stained, life-less face looked back at him. Percy, with a shaking hand slowly closed Colin's eyes and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
************
Monica stared out her window, hand clutching her forearm. It had been two weeks since the ugly tattoo of the dark mark had been burned into her arm but it still hurt, it's reminder that it was still there...always there.
She turned away from the window and finished packing her last bag. Soon, thankfully soon she would be away from all this. She would be back at school and could forget, at least for a bit, that she was being targeted by what was left of Voldemort's minions. That she was marked as one of them. She could go back to gossiping with friends and eating out by the river. Go back to enjoying life and her boyfriend and her teachers and get as far away from England and her Uncle Peter as she could. She glanced over at the piles of letters received from Fleur Delacour, once friend and now teacher and confidant. Even she didn't know what had happened to Monica over her summer holidays, and probably would never know if Monica had her way.
Monica turned back to the window, picturing she was looking out over the grounds of Beauxbatons instead of this horrible, ugly war torn countryside. The dark mark burned horribly upon her arm and Monica clenched it in pain, a scream trying to tear it's way from her throat. "I DON'T WANT THIS!!!" She screamed, her anger and pain boiling over into the shout, tears screaming down her face at a fast clip. She swung her arm out and everything upon her corner table, pictures, scrolls, vases fell and shattered to the floor but the damage did not abate her anger. She seized the table and threw it up against the wall, feeling the smooth wood shudder then splinter apart under her hands. She soon moved onto other breakables, other valuables Peter trusted in her room. She sunk to her knees surrounded by glass, metal and wood shards, crying heavily into her hands. "I don't want this..."