This Is Us Now
When the war is over...
When the war is over...
When the war is over, you're just standing there. You're standing there, and you're just a child, you're too young for what you've done and too young for what you've seen and said and felt over and over and over again.
And you're standing there. You're standing in front of a tree, you're standing in a forest, you're standing with Hogwarts behind you, and the war is over, but you can't move.
Not just yet.
The war is over, and she's knelt down on the leaves beside to you, and he's turned away from you and the war is over and you're standing there because the war is over and you're just a bloody child and should never have to make such choices.
The war is over and you're just standing there because you've had to make a choice. Where are you going? What are you doing? What do you want? Who are you?
The war is over and no one should have had to make the choices you've made. Not her, not him, no one. The war is over and you're all just children. You've spent your life preparing for this, and now it's over and you have your entire adult life ahead of you, but the war is over and all you can do is stand there.
The tree before you is gnarled and old. It has lived far longer than you. It will live long after you. It has no purpose but to grow and thrive and survive. It cares not for wars, not for death, not for children forced up before their time.
The war is over, and you are standing there, and you wish, beyond anything else, that you could be that tree.
The war is over, you're just standing there, your friends are looking away from you, the tree does not move, and, as the first snowflakes of another bitter winter begin to fall, your enemies -- disguised as your lovers -- die.
"Goodbye," you whisper. "Goodbye, Ginny. Goodbye, Draco."
The war is over and you're standing there.