Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield-some we must fight within ourselves. An epilogue inclusive story of endings, beginnings, and, ultimately, growth.
A/N: I began writing this story as a challenge to myself. I decided to do a few things that I either always wanted to do or have never been able to do, namely, I wanted to write a piece of fanfiction that based entirely off of an album, with each chapter following a song of the album, and I wanted to write something that was full of angst, as I've never written anything other than fluff, humor, or parody.
The album that I decided I wanted to base a story on was "In Our Bedroom After the War", an absolutely brilliant album by a Canadian band called Stars. I'd recommend them to anyone who enjoys the Indie genre, including bands like Death Cab For Cutie, Sufjan Stevens, Metric, Broken Social Scene, or even Rilo Kiley. I'd also recommend them to anyone who enjoys male/female harmonies. Each song from the album marks a new chapter, and as such, there will be 13 different (short) chapters.
At first, I was going to write a post-DH story, without the epilogue, as that would tie in nicely with the post-war theme of the album, but then I figured, heck, I've already made this challenge to myself difficult, why not go all the way? And so I did, making this a post-DH story-epilogue and all.
(Semi) important part of A/N: To sum up that lengthy author's note: I'd recommend reading the short song lyrics at the beginning of each chapter, as they do tie into the story. Also, as this is my first time writing angst, and really, anything so obscure, I'd appreciate your comments, constructive, if possible. Furthermore, this is a story that includes the epilogue, so it will contain Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione. One last thing-play close attention to the dates at the beginning of each chapter; this story will jump around quite a bit.
I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for reading.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and as such, belong solely to her. Furthermore, all song lyrics belong to Stars.
The Beginning After the End
Oh, the blood and the treasure,
And the loosing it all;
The time that we wasted,
And the place where we fall.
Will we wake in morning and know what it was for,
Up in our bedroom after the war?
August 5, 2017
Time, has a funny way about making itself known. A glance in a mirror, a forgotten memory, an old friend, a new smiling face; everyday flashes that let us know that time has not forgotten us-It still holds us in its hands, and no matter how far away yesterday seems, or how recent twenty years ago feels, Time has merely tricked us into believing we have escaped its hold. Fools, we are, to fall into its traps, fall into its lulling deceit and distortion of our very lives. Can we pretend that Time will allow us to forget, or to forgive that which seems unforgettable or unforgivable? Can we allow ourselves to succumb to the blissful ignorance that Time offers? As Time passes us by, beckons us to follow, can we leave our sins behind? And what of our conscious? Does Time dilute those morals we once held strong, those beliefs we thought vital to our very being? No, perhaps not. Perhaps Time, as powerful as it is, can only bury all these things: our guilt, our regrets, our sin, and our principles. But how deep? What does it take for us to realize that these things still remain? A touch? A smile? A look? When the memories resurface, despite Time's work on them, can anyone stop them?
She crumpled up the sheet of parchment.
No, Time has not been merciful to me. Instead of helping me forget, the guilt only opens a new wound every time I remember.
She sighed, leaning her head into her hands.
And how often I remember.
Reflection, before any other vice of hers, would certainly led to the destruction of her sanity. She often wished she could forget or go back in time to change things, but then, shortly after, to her horror, another wanton thought would creep in her mind, you don't want to forget at all; you wouldn't change it, because even after all these years, even with so much regret, that one moment still makes you feel more alive than you've felt since then.
And that, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, was only the truth.
After accepting this, and she had done so long ago, she could only let desperation seep in; the tell-tale weariness of a life gone wayward. She wished she could escape the agonizing feeling, escape the pain of remorse that wretched through her gut shortly after the pang of longing she felt all too often. It was an endless, vicious cycle.
I want to leave; I want to get away and leave it all behind. Why can I not let it all go?
"Mummy! Mummy! Hugo said that I looked like an ugly chipmunk so I called him a repulsive Neanderthal and then he asked Daddy what that meant and Daddy didn't know because he doesn't read like me and you Mum, and then Daddy said that I was a little know-it-all just like you and that I was a handful and laughed like it was a big joke and he didn't punish Hugo at all for being so mean to me!"
Ah, there you are. How could I possibly leave that behind?
Hermione rose from her chair and walked over to her daughter, pulling her into a hug. "You shouldn't let your younger brother get to you, honey."
Or your father, she added mentally.
Rose Weasley sniffled. "I know mum, but he's just so mean sometimes. Why isn't he nice to me?"
Hermione smiled, wiping the stray tears from her daughter's face. "Well, he's obviously jealous of the most beautiful, intelligent, and kind young lady I've had the pleasure of meeting."
Rose grinned, but then scrunched up her nose. "You just have to say that because you're my mum!"
"It doesn't make it less true. Did your father let you get the books you wanted?"
The young girl immediately brightened. "Oh, yes! I picked up the newest version of Hogwarts a History, Brooms That Aren't Meant For Sweeping, and Twenty-Three Steps to Harnessing Your Wandless Magic Potential."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Wandless magic? Starting young are you?"
"Uncle Harry said that he'd help me start on it so I'd give the `brightest witch of her age' a run for her money. He meant you, Mum." Rose added, unnecessarily.
"You know doing magic before you get to Hogwarts is illegal, honey." Hermione fought to keep a smile from forming.
"But Mum! Uncle Harry said that he knew how to make sure that I didn't get in trouble! Uncle Harry said that even you did loads of things that were `illegal'," Rose quoted with her fingers, "but only because you wanted to help him and Daddy and you always learned new things when you did it. You do want me to learn, don't you?"
Ah, hook, line, and sinker.
"We'll talk about it more later, darling. Why don't you run upstairs and wash up before supper?"
"Okay Mum!" Rose gave her a big hug. "I love you!" She called as she raced up the stairs.
Hermione smiled softly. "I love you too."
"Hey Herms, could you give me a hand with these? I swear Rosie gets more like you every day! She tried to buy the whole bloody bookstore-I had to practically drag her out."
"Language, Ron." She scolded, plucking one of the levitating bags from the air.
He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
Eyeing the bags he levitated in front of him, she shook her head. "More Quidditch rubbish?"
"Hey! Hugo and Rosie need to be ready! They're obviously both going to be on the Gryffindor team. James is already one of the chasers, so when Hugo gets there he'll be keeper, and Rosie can be another chaser, and I think Harry said Al is showing some beater tendencies, which is rather odd, that kid's pretty shy, but anyways-- and Lily's a load like Ginny, so she'll probably go for the chaser position as well. We'll have a whole Quidditch team of Weasleys and Potters!" Ron seemed to nearly salivate at the thought.
"Well, first of all, you know Rose wants to be a seeker."
Ron rolled his eyes. "That's just because Harry's been putting those ideas into her head. Dunno where he gets off-"
"And second of all, we already have enough Quiddich equipment to outfit three teams as it is, so I doubt any more is necessary."
"Shesh Herms, don't get your knickers in a twist."
Hermione expelled a breath, willing herself to stay calm. "There's something else we need to talk about, Ron."
"What now?"
Stay calm, and don't grind your teeth. You'll wear them down; remember what your parents taught you. "It's about Rose."
"What about her?" Asked Ron nonchalantly as he dropped the bags he was floating with a flick of his wand and threw himself down on a leather couch.
"You can't keep picking on her all the time, Ron."
"Aw Herms, I'm not `picking' on her, just teasing, that's all."
"By calling her a know-it-all? I fail to see how that's teasing Ronald. Teasing usually entails both the teaser and the teased laughing."
"Well, Hugo thought it was funny, and `sides it's not like she started crying or anything."
"Not until she came home, at least."
"Oh." Ron looked down. "Ah. I'm sorry, Herms."
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Hermione huffed. "And do try and punish Hugo sometimes as well. He shouldn't be calling Rose names either."
Ron nodded, rising from the couch and lifting his bags once again.
"Don't forget that we're having dinner tonight at your mum's." She called after him.
"At six, I know." He shouted back.
Hermione sighed and sat down, grabbing a book from the bag.
The title, Twenty-Three Steps to Harnessing Your Wandless Magic Potential, winked up at her in shinning gold letters.
Life will always be a fight, an endless struggle.
She traced the letters with her finger, remembering the excitement in Rose's sparkling brown eyes as she rattled on about wandless magic.
But then, some things are worth hanging on for.
A/N: Rose's line `You do want me to learn, don't you?' is inspired by the greatest comic of all time: Calvin and Hobbes. Calvin always used the learning excuse to get his mom to buy him Dinosaur paraphernalia.
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