raise your wand for those who couldn’t fight but healed wounds.
raise your wand for those that knew they were told not to fight, but did anyways because there is no way they aren’t going to fight for the world they want their future children to live in. there is no way they won’t fight for a chance for future kids just like them to be shielded from the horrors they experienced at such a young age.
raise your wand for those who helped evacuate students, without even wasting a glance over their own shoulders, only to keep an eye out for potential threats against others.
raise your wand for those who let their own guards down only to fire a spell to protect someone else.
raise your wand for those who patted someone’s back and said, “good job”.
raise your wand for those who refused to just leave someone’s body.
raise your wand for those who comforted a crying person as they mourned over a loss of a loved one.
raise your wand for those who made sure that everyone got some Dreamless Sleep Potion.
raise your wand for those who made sure that everyone had a blanket.
raise your wand for each and every person that played a part in the war, big as a giant or minuscule as a small ant. they all matter.
raise your wand.
19 years, and each story is remembered, thanks to Lee Jordan and his Potterwatch.
hogwarts, a history nearly doubled in thickness.
and from above, each and every person who died for the same united cause watches happily as the world they fought for flourishes.
Anon requested Drarry, #46: “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”
“Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”
Harry instantly forgot what he was looking for at the
sight of Draco, Teddy, and Roxanne Jordan-Weasley on the sitting room floor
painting their nails. Draco and Andromeda had taken the girls to Hogsmeade today, where Harry had thought they’d been having tea at Madame Puddifoot’s. If the purple shop bags were anything to go by, Teddy had talked them into visiting Belphoebe’s Beauty Boutique. Again.
On the coffee table, a dozen of Teddy’s Muggle action figures were standing
at attention. Their nails (and the tips of
their boots) were pink. Andromeda was snoring on the settee, her arms floating weightlessly in front of her while her blue-tipped nails dried. Harry knew better than to ask, as he’d been told multiple times that drying charms buggered up manicures.
“Daddy, it’s your turn!”
“Come on, Babe,” Draco said, patting the spot next to him
on the rug. “Teddy picked out a special colour just for you.”
“Oh, did she?”
Draco waved a little bottle of deep purple varnish in
Harry’s direction. “Certainly. It’s called Defense Against the Dark Purple.”