[Ficlet-HP] Through a New Year
Through a New Year
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG13
Character: Gen. Anthony Goldstein
Warnings: Religious themes.
Words: 739
Notes: Written for clever_claws' challenge: "write a drabble of no more than 750 words from a particular character's POV...without ever identifying that character by name (or nickname) within the story." Prompt: consequences.
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Usually I went home. I had done it since first year but there was nothing usual about Hogwarts now. My parent's hadn't wanted me to come back but then the Ministry's letter had arrived, telling in no uncertain terms that I was required to assist and quelling all possible arguments on their part.
"You shouldn't go," my mother had said, on the verge of tears. "You don't understand. You… you don't understand."
But I did. I had seen the haunted look on my grandfather's eyes and I'd heard the stories and interpreted the silences; I understood and though my grandfather's world and mine weren't the same I saw the similarities between what he'd lived and what we all feared was coming. The prejudices of the Wizarding world were different from those of the Muggle one, but they were also remarkably similar.
It was made clear at the beginning of the term just how much things had changed. Death Eaters had taken control of the school, students were getting hurt. And then Longbottom had gathered us all, the old D.A, and there was a little hope.
Snape wouldn't let me go home this year. Flitwick had inquired for me and brought back the news with a stony face and a regretful look. I wrote to my parents and the return letter came with a prayer book and a small flask of honey.
The bread wasn't difficult to get and a simple transfiguration spell changed a pitcher of juice into wine. In my dorm room I conjured a table, a white mantle and cutlery and placed the honey, wine and bread on the table. There were a few items missing but for this year it would have to do. I had opened the prayer book and lifted the wine cup when the door opened.
My roommates stood at the threshold, each holding and apple on one hand. "Can we be here for you?" Terry asked, tentatively.
"We can be your family this year," added Michael. "Even if we know bugger all of what to do."
But they knew. They had listened to me in previous years and read on what they didn't remember. They stood respectfully as the wine was blessed and ate the bread with honey even though I knew Michael didn't care for it. We talked for hours and even though they had heard me speak about the Holidays before they listened to me again.
I didn't tell them about my plans for the next day. I had been thinking of the different places I could go and finally decided on the Forbidden Forest. With the prayer book tucked under my arm and my wand on my pocket I left. No one spotted me as I found a place by the edge of the forest and watched the sunrise. Facing the east, towards Jerusalem, I opened the book and began my prayers.
When I returned to the castle the Carrows were waiting for me. The Cruciatus hurt more than I could have imagined and when I got back to the dorms, pain still running all over my body, my friends were waiting for me.
"What did you do, mate?" Michael looked worried.
"Where were you?" asked Terry at the same time.
I gave them a smile. "Shana tova," I said, repeating words I had spoken on the ceremony the night before.
Terry helped me to bed and Michael rolled his eyes. "Happy New Year," he wished to me, shaking his head.
Two days later, when my father sent me another prayer book I knew what I wanted to do, even if I was certain I wouldn't like the consequences.
I said nothing to my friends about my plan for Yom Kippur but when I got back after a day of prayers, hungry and thirsty the Carrows didn't seem to be aware that I had been missing and Michael and Terry had a light meal ready for me. They understood.
Usually I went home for the High Holidays but there was nothing usual about this year. There would be other battles to fight, I knew, with a wand instead of a prayer book. In the end it was all a mater of faith; faith in my friends, faith that we would survive, faith that we would make a difference, faith that there would be other Rosh Hashanahs to come, other years to begin and other, hopefully happier, things to understand.
- The End -
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG13
Character: Gen. Anthony Goldstein
Warnings: Religious themes.
Words: 739
Notes: Written for clever_claws' challenge: "write a drabble of no more than 750 words from a particular character's POV...without ever identifying that character by name (or nickname) within the story." Prompt: consequences.
---
Usually I went home. I had done it since first year but there was nothing usual about Hogwarts now. My parent's hadn't wanted me to come back but then the Ministry's letter had arrived, telling in no uncertain terms that I was required to assist and quelling all possible arguments on their part.
"You shouldn't go," my mother had said, on the verge of tears. "You don't understand. You… you don't understand."
But I did. I had seen the haunted look on my grandfather's eyes and I'd heard the stories and interpreted the silences; I understood and though my grandfather's world and mine weren't the same I saw the similarities between what he'd lived and what we all feared was coming. The prejudices of the Wizarding world were different from those of the Muggle one, but they were also remarkably similar.
It was made clear at the beginning of the term just how much things had changed. Death Eaters had taken control of the school, students were getting hurt. And then Longbottom had gathered us all, the old D.A, and there was a little hope.
Snape wouldn't let me go home this year. Flitwick had inquired for me and brought back the news with a stony face and a regretful look. I wrote to my parents and the return letter came with a prayer book and a small flask of honey.
The bread wasn't difficult to get and a simple transfiguration spell changed a pitcher of juice into wine. In my dorm room I conjured a table, a white mantle and cutlery and placed the honey, wine and bread on the table. There were a few items missing but for this year it would have to do. I had opened the prayer book and lifted the wine cup when the door opened.
My roommates stood at the threshold, each holding and apple on one hand. "Can we be here for you?" Terry asked, tentatively.
"We can be your family this year," added Michael. "Even if we know bugger all of what to do."
But they knew. They had listened to me in previous years and read on what they didn't remember. They stood respectfully as the wine was blessed and ate the bread with honey even though I knew Michael didn't care for it. We talked for hours and even though they had heard me speak about the Holidays before they listened to me again.
I didn't tell them about my plans for the next day. I had been thinking of the different places I could go and finally decided on the Forbidden Forest. With the prayer book tucked under my arm and my wand on my pocket I left. No one spotted me as I found a place by the edge of the forest and watched the sunrise. Facing the east, towards Jerusalem, I opened the book and began my prayers.
When I returned to the castle the Carrows were waiting for me. The Cruciatus hurt more than I could have imagined and when I got back to the dorms, pain still running all over my body, my friends were waiting for me.
"What did you do, mate?" Michael looked worried.
"Where were you?" asked Terry at the same time.
I gave them a smile. "Shana tova," I said, repeating words I had spoken on the ceremony the night before.
Terry helped me to bed and Michael rolled his eyes. "Happy New Year," he wished to me, shaking his head.
Two days later, when my father sent me another prayer book I knew what I wanted to do, even if I was certain I wouldn't like the consequences.
I said nothing to my friends about my plan for Yom Kippur but when I got back after a day of prayers, hungry and thirsty the Carrows didn't seem to be aware that I had been missing and Michael and Terry had a light meal ready for me. They understood.
Usually I went home for the High Holidays but there was nothing usual about this year. There would be other battles to fight, I knew, with a wand instead of a prayer book. In the end it was all a mater of faith; faith in my friends, faith that we would survive, faith that we would make a difference, faith that there would be other Rosh Hashanahs to come, other years to begin and other, hopefully happier, things to understand.
- The End -