Peace To You

Mkay, you'll have to suspend your disbelief a bit for this one. Enjoy.
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Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the ancient Weasley clock reverberated off of the walls. It was so silent that the mere sound of a clock ticking was defeaning. The faces on the clock were old and chipped. Almost all of the Weasley faces pointed to one destination: home. All except for two weary shapes that were almost blotted off of the clock.

Most everyone suspected that it was because of the attack. It was, after all, one of the most unfortunate events that had occured since the war. A little less than a year ago, an infiltration had taken place on the Hogwarts Express. It was an act of revenge, an attempt at ressurecting the dark leader that had long since been killed. Witches and wizards who thought themselves members of a once feared group intervened on the train's normal route. After the train came to a halt, they attacked. After finding them in two compartments, the new age Death Eaters cornered the Potter and Weasley children. In a blaze of spells and hexes, one by one, each of them fell. Then, in a turn of events that many found bittersweet, aurors that were minutes too late swooped down on the train, capturing the murderers. They would all be sent to Azkaban, but this would bring only a sense of dull relief to the families of the dead children.

It seemed that the deaths are what set off Harry and Hermione's minds. They had had enough. Where they were now, the Weasley clan didn't know. Neither did anybody, for that matter. The question was plastered over every wizarding newpaper and was all over the wireless. Where was Harry Potter? What had happened to the Boy-Who-Lived? And, for that matter, what had happened to Hermione Granger, his brilliant friend? No one knew. The wizarding world grieved, along with the Weasley family. Don't missunderstand, they searched. Oh, how they searched. The entire wizarding world was still keeping an eye out, but hope was dwindling. And, for all their searching, all that was ever found were two snapped wands resting on the floor of Harry Potter's home.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The Burrow sat still and silent. Every now and then a slight sigh would escape the lips of a random Weasley. They stared straight ahead, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, as if a wind burst through the house, Ginny Weasley burst into tears and ran from the living room. Ron simply lowered his head. The two blurry faces of Harry and Hermione faded off of the Weasley clock.

Many, many, many miles away, a man with unruly black hair clasped hands with a pretty brunette. Her hair was equally wild. As they walked along the beach, occassionally dipping their toes into the waves, the woman lightly placed a hand on her pregnant belly. The man stopped and turned to the woman and kissed her. As they pulled apart, they both smiled, and looked towards the setting sun, awaiting peace they knew would come.

The End.