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Fic: Statue in the Park
Title: Statue in the Park
Author: Erin erinm_4600
Characters, Pairing: Harry, Hermione, Ron
Rating: G
Summary: A statue stands in the Hogsmeade park...
Warning: post-H-BP. Written for hogwarts_elite's Hogsmeade, Term 11(?). Prompt was: FICTION CONTEST #3 - Your assignment is to write a short fiction inspired by the lyrics to the song "Caught in the Rain" ... The lyrics obviously contain some "muggle" elements, so feel free to change those as needed (police to teachers or aurors, etc). You can go just about anywhere with this. The only real rule is that you must include Rain and elements from one whole verse/stanza of the song. The verse you pick is up to you. Please don't just drop a chunk of the song in your fiction. Interpret it. Take off with it.
Disclaimer: The original characters belongs to JK Rowling and their respective actors.
Originally posted: August 16, 2006
Hogsmeade Park was never really a 'tourist' attraction for the Wizarding world. In fact, except for the occasional romantic picnic or evening stroll, the only ones who got any use of the park were the children on the small village. On any given summer day, parents would be out with their children; teaching them how to ride a broomstick; watching them play a game of Quidditch on the ground; or enjoying a light lunch while looking at clouds.
Today, however, did not find many people in the park, let alone outside. The rain had been falling for most of the morning, and, while it did let up at times, didn't look like it was going to clear up any time soon.
The park was located near the edge of town, just south of the Shrieking Shack, and east of the Hogsmeade Train Station. Constructed about ten years ago, the park served another purpose: a memorial, of sorts. Not quite in the center of the park stood a large granite statue. It wasn't adorned with heavy decoration, and didn't have a great witch or wizard in an awe-inspiring pose. It was simple, non-descript (except, of course, that it obviously stood out from its surroundings) and clean.
If the statue had feelings, or could talk, it would most likely be bored from all that sitting. And, well, rather wet. Most of the witches and wizards who came by were relations of someone whose name was not carved on the face. Some left little gifts or remembrances, while other would stare at the smooth surface for a moment, then walk away in silence.
When the statue was designed, there was a great debate as to exactly what would be carved into the face. Would there be names and dates, as with most statues erected; or would there be a poem or some wise wizard's insightful thoughts? In the end, it was decided that a simple message would be best. The names of the survivors far outnumbered those who died, but there was not enough room to name them all. To do so would have created a statue nearly seven stories tall.
There was a suggestion by one wizard to list the names of those most important, but it was argued that EVERY life lost was important, and who was to decide who would be listed and who would not. Those involved didn’t want to play favorites - the point was to honor them ALL.
The rain had apparently not kept everyone inside today. From across High Street, a man exited The Three Broomsticks. He was definitely not dressed like a normal wizard, wearing what looked like a Muggle suit. However, he seemed to be rather relaxed: top button undone, tie loosened and hair unkempt.
As he crossed the street, there was a POP, and he turned to see another man, who had just Apparated in front of the tavern. The new arrival moved quickly to the other man and, after a greeting and hug, they continued toward the park.
The second man, tall and not quite as gangly as he had been in his youth, was dressed in a dark sweater and corduroys, also not seeming to mind the rain. His hair was cut short and his features worn. Both men looked as though they'd seen hard times, but they could've looked worse.
They walked through the grass toward the statue without saying a word, but the quiet was soon too much for both of them.
"How've you been?" one asked.
"Not bad... keeping busy. You?" the other replied.
"Another day, as they say," the first stated. They both shared a sad smile, and then looked up to the face of the statue. They were each lost in thought and memory and didn't notice the witch who had walked up behind them until she spoke.
"I thought we were to meet inside Three Broomsticks..." she said, not really angry that they hadn't waited. Both turned to see her and took turns giving her a welcoming hug. She let go of the second and stepped closer to the statue. Running her fingers over the carved surface, she sighed.
"Hard to believe it's been eight years," she said softly. The first man put his hands in his pockets and added,
"Sometimes, I feel like it was just yesterday. I wake up, expecting to go down the stairs and see them all sitting around before breakfast." The second man looked around at the village behind them.
"You ever think," he asked, "that we'd end up here?" The witch blinked away a tear and shook her head.
"For as many times as Trelawney predicted my death... and that damn prophecy," the first added with a slight laugh. "The fact that I'm here and they're not..." he nodded to the statue. "It just doesn't seem right."
The witch began to sniff, and he pulled her into a hug. She, also, had not planned for rainy weather, and her light jacket seemed to be soaking up the light rain that was still trying to fall. The second wizard glanced at the statue, and then looked up at the sky.
"Looks like another round is coming. Maybe we should move inside." They all nodded in agreement and gave one last look to the statue before turning, the first with his arm still around the witch.
Inside The Three Broomsticks, the trio chose a table closest to the window, with a clear view of not only the statue, but of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, long since closed, off in the distance.
After the war, like most witches and wizards of both worlds, these three had retreated to the Muggle world. It wasn't that they didn't enjoy living with the conveniences of magic, but there were just too many memories that they couldn't deal with on a daily basis. There were even some Pureblood witches and wizards who decided to give the Muggle world a try. Some, as the second of this group to arrive, ended up coming back to the Wizarding world, wanting to reunite with their families.
Before these three had separated, they had made a promise to each other to return on this day. It had been hard for them to let go, but necessary. All three had gone on to live their lives, always remembering those who had helped them.
The first Wizard continued to stare out the window, not really listening to the other two talk about their last few years. When they realized that he wasn't paying attention, they stopped and the witch snapped her fingers just in front of his cheek. He jumped a bit, and then stared at them.
"Sorry, got a bit lost."
"'s all right. Can't say it's never happened to me before," said the second wizard.
"What were we talking about?" he asked, taking a sip from the mug in front of him.
"Hermione was asking what we were doing these days. And I said that I had taken a job at Wheezes about three years ago, to help out."
"And I was saying that I had taken a job in a library in London. They happened to have a section in the back of the library for wizards, and I ended up working mainly in that section. I've since moved on to a book publisher. We mostly print Muggle works, but we'll occasionally get a wizard's manuscript," she finished with a sigh.
"What about you, Harry?" the other wizard asked. "What have you been up to?" Harry Potter glanced out the window, and then looked at his two best friends.
"I want to reopen the school." He knew that this announcement would probably get him blank stares, but he didn't care. "Look, it's been closed long enough, and I think it's time that we get back..."
"Harry," Hermione began, "what do you know about running a school? You need teachers and lessons... and students." Harry grinned at her.
"Easy. You'll teach them book stuff. I'll teach them the defense stuff."
"And Ron?" Hermione asked. Harry looked across the table and grinned again.
"Ron'll teach them everything else. From Quidditch to Wheezes. And he'll cover the Wizarding side. We'll cover the Muggle," Harry added, motioning between Hermione and himself.
Ron thought about it for a moment, and then stuck his hand out over the center of the table.
"I'm in." Harry nodded and placed his hand over Ron's. They both looked at Hermione, who didn't look very convinced that this was a good idea.
"Just think," Harry said with a sly grin. "You can assign Hogwarts, a History as required reading, and then tell them what's wrong with it." Ron choked on the swig of butterbeer he'd just taken, but didn't pull his hand back. Hermione stared at Harry for a moment, saw the strangest look in his eyes, and put her hand on top of his.
"I'm in." they all pulled their hands away and Ron leaned forward.
"So, how do we pull this off?" Harry smiled again and leaned forward as well.
"Here's my plan..."
As it had done for the last eight years, the statue stood guard over the small village, watching yet another family reunite in its presence. There was a loud rumble of thunder from the east, and the rain began to fall once again.
TO ALL WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES - FRIENDS, FAMILY AND THOSE WE DIDN'T KNOW VERY WELL
WE HONOR YOU AND THE SACRIFICE YOU MADE
AND WE WILL NEVER FORGET
Author: Erin erinm_4600
Characters, Pairing: Harry, Hermione, Ron
Rating: G
Summary: A statue stands in the Hogsmeade park...
Warning: post-H-BP. Written for hogwarts_elite's Hogsmeade, Term 11(?). Prompt was: FICTION CONTEST #3 - Your assignment is to write a short fiction inspired by the lyrics to the song "Caught in the Rain" ... The lyrics obviously contain some "muggle" elements, so feel free to change those as needed (police to teachers or aurors, etc). You can go just about anywhere with this. The only real rule is that you must include Rain and elements from one whole verse/stanza of the song. The verse you pick is up to you. Please don't just drop a chunk of the song in your fiction. Interpret it. Take off with it.
Disclaimer: The original characters belongs to JK Rowling and their respective actors.
Originally posted: August 16, 2006
Hogsmeade Park was never really a 'tourist' attraction for the Wizarding world. In fact, except for the occasional romantic picnic or evening stroll, the only ones who got any use of the park were the children on the small village. On any given summer day, parents would be out with their children; teaching them how to ride a broomstick; watching them play a game of Quidditch on the ground; or enjoying a light lunch while looking at clouds.
Today, however, did not find many people in the park, let alone outside. The rain had been falling for most of the morning, and, while it did let up at times, didn't look like it was going to clear up any time soon.
The park was located near the edge of town, just south of the Shrieking Shack, and east of the Hogsmeade Train Station. Constructed about ten years ago, the park served another purpose: a memorial, of sorts. Not quite in the center of the park stood a large granite statue. It wasn't adorned with heavy decoration, and didn't have a great witch or wizard in an awe-inspiring pose. It was simple, non-descript (except, of course, that it obviously stood out from its surroundings) and clean.
If the statue had feelings, or could talk, it would most likely be bored from all that sitting. And, well, rather wet. Most of the witches and wizards who came by were relations of someone whose name was not carved on the face. Some left little gifts or remembrances, while other would stare at the smooth surface for a moment, then walk away in silence.
When the statue was designed, there was a great debate as to exactly what would be carved into the face. Would there be names and dates, as with most statues erected; or would there be a poem or some wise wizard's insightful thoughts? In the end, it was decided that a simple message would be best. The names of the survivors far outnumbered those who died, but there was not enough room to name them all. To do so would have created a statue nearly seven stories tall.
There was a suggestion by one wizard to list the names of those most important, but it was argued that EVERY life lost was important, and who was to decide who would be listed and who would not. Those involved didn’t want to play favorites - the point was to honor them ALL.
The rain had apparently not kept everyone inside today. From across High Street, a man exited The Three Broomsticks. He was definitely not dressed like a normal wizard, wearing what looked like a Muggle suit. However, he seemed to be rather relaxed: top button undone, tie loosened and hair unkempt.
As he crossed the street, there was a POP, and he turned to see another man, who had just Apparated in front of the tavern. The new arrival moved quickly to the other man and, after a greeting and hug, they continued toward the park.
The second man, tall and not quite as gangly as he had been in his youth, was dressed in a dark sweater and corduroys, also not seeming to mind the rain. His hair was cut short and his features worn. Both men looked as though they'd seen hard times, but they could've looked worse.
They walked through the grass toward the statue without saying a word, but the quiet was soon too much for both of them.
"How've you been?" one asked.
"Not bad... keeping busy. You?" the other replied.
"Another day, as they say," the first stated. They both shared a sad smile, and then looked up to the face of the statue. They were each lost in thought and memory and didn't notice the witch who had walked up behind them until she spoke.
"I thought we were to meet inside Three Broomsticks..." she said, not really angry that they hadn't waited. Both turned to see her and took turns giving her a welcoming hug. She let go of the second and stepped closer to the statue. Running her fingers over the carved surface, she sighed.
"Hard to believe it's been eight years," she said softly. The first man put his hands in his pockets and added,
"Sometimes, I feel like it was just yesterday. I wake up, expecting to go down the stairs and see them all sitting around before breakfast." The second man looked around at the village behind them.
"You ever think," he asked, "that we'd end up here?" The witch blinked away a tear and shook her head.
"For as many times as Trelawney predicted my death... and that damn prophecy," the first added with a slight laugh. "The fact that I'm here and they're not..." he nodded to the statue. "It just doesn't seem right."
The witch began to sniff, and he pulled her into a hug. She, also, had not planned for rainy weather, and her light jacket seemed to be soaking up the light rain that was still trying to fall. The second wizard glanced at the statue, and then looked up at the sky.
"Looks like another round is coming. Maybe we should move inside." They all nodded in agreement and gave one last look to the statue before turning, the first with his arm still around the witch.
Inside The Three Broomsticks, the trio chose a table closest to the window, with a clear view of not only the statue, but of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, long since closed, off in the distance.
After the war, like most witches and wizards of both worlds, these three had retreated to the Muggle world. It wasn't that they didn't enjoy living with the conveniences of magic, but there were just too many memories that they couldn't deal with on a daily basis. There were even some Pureblood witches and wizards who decided to give the Muggle world a try. Some, as the second of this group to arrive, ended up coming back to the Wizarding world, wanting to reunite with their families.
Before these three had separated, they had made a promise to each other to return on this day. It had been hard for them to let go, but necessary. All three had gone on to live their lives, always remembering those who had helped them.
The first Wizard continued to stare out the window, not really listening to the other two talk about their last few years. When they realized that he wasn't paying attention, they stopped and the witch snapped her fingers just in front of his cheek. He jumped a bit, and then stared at them.
"Sorry, got a bit lost."
"'s all right. Can't say it's never happened to me before," said the second wizard.
"What were we talking about?" he asked, taking a sip from the mug in front of him.
"Hermione was asking what we were doing these days. And I said that I had taken a job at Wheezes about three years ago, to help out."
"And I was saying that I had taken a job in a library in London. They happened to have a section in the back of the library for wizards, and I ended up working mainly in that section. I've since moved on to a book publisher. We mostly print Muggle works, but we'll occasionally get a wizard's manuscript," she finished with a sigh.
"What about you, Harry?" the other wizard asked. "What have you been up to?" Harry Potter glanced out the window, and then looked at his two best friends.
"I want to reopen the school." He knew that this announcement would probably get him blank stares, but he didn't care. "Look, it's been closed long enough, and I think it's time that we get back..."
"Harry," Hermione began, "what do you know about running a school? You need teachers and lessons... and students." Harry grinned at her.
"Easy. You'll teach them book stuff. I'll teach them the defense stuff."
"And Ron?" Hermione asked. Harry looked across the table and grinned again.
"Ron'll teach them everything else. From Quidditch to Wheezes. And he'll cover the Wizarding side. We'll cover the Muggle," Harry added, motioning between Hermione and himself.
Ron thought about it for a moment, and then stuck his hand out over the center of the table.
"I'm in." Harry nodded and placed his hand over Ron's. They both looked at Hermione, who didn't look very convinced that this was a good idea.
"Just think," Harry said with a sly grin. "You can assign Hogwarts, a History as required reading, and then tell them what's wrong with it." Ron choked on the swig of butterbeer he'd just taken, but didn't pull his hand back. Hermione stared at Harry for a moment, saw the strangest look in his eyes, and put her hand on top of his.
"I'm in." they all pulled their hands away and Ron leaned forward.
"So, how do we pull this off?" Harry smiled again and leaned forward as well.
"Here's my plan..."
As it had done for the last eight years, the statue stood guard over the small village, watching yet another family reunite in its presence. There was a loud rumble of thunder from the east, and the rain began to fall once again.
TO ALL WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES - FRIENDS, FAMILY AND THOSE WE DIDN'T KNOW VERY WELL
WE HONOR YOU AND THE SACRIFICE YOU MADE
AND WE WILL NEVER FORGET