Snowflakes

She sat in a large, squashy chair by the window, watching the millions upon millions of snowflakes twirl slowly from the heavens down to the whitened earth, their descent painted on a background of soothing, mind-numbing grey. A warming, lifting of her spirit came at the simple, unexplainable beauty of the fresh snow, something that had been forgotten so soon, so easily these last years. This was the first time the world had remembered Christmas for so very many years. But hardly had that contemplative thought crossed the weary tendrils of her mind, unbidden tears sprung to her eyes, as raw, painful memories awoke.

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

They were so young, so very young, and so innocent. They had not asked for the immense, unfathomable responsibility that the Wizarding world had thrust upon them. And yet they had borne it, and won. They had won. Despite the horrific, unimaginable consequences, the thousands of lives torn irreparably apart, they had won, and the world was safe once again. As safe as a world recovering from the greatest war it had ever seen could be. Safe. It was truth, but for so many, so very many, regardless of age, blood, values, race- for so many, that seemed like impossibility, returning to the life they had held before their lives were shredded.

And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

It had been such a long time. More than ten years had passed, since the second stirrings of the Dark Lord, since the first rallying of his old death eaters, since the slow, sinister undercurrent that seemed to taint everything they knew began to make itself known again. The fear than began to descend on the wizarding community, that was partly recollection of past nightmares, and partly a shiver of dread at the safety of their world coming to an end. But this time, this time they had a new generation of proud, fierce wizards, who had grown up without the stunting oppression of darkness, yet had felt the very real taint of it reflected in their daily lives. She was one of them, determined that this old foe could not return without a battle. She and her friends stood tall, assured that they could deal with whatever the future threw at them. They could win any war that was waged.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

But he was not going to give them an outright war. No, his power was far subtler than that. Instead, he made Death Eaters of all who would follow him, and they became his agents, putting into place the steps that he would use to climb to the heights he had so lusted for before. The wizards of the resistance stood tall, believing they were ready, they were capable. But when he struck at them, it was not at the front of their defenses, as they had imagined in their naivety. No, they were dealt crippling blows behind their lines of armour, to their families and loved ones, to their homes and everything they valued. Very few of those who stood up to fight were actually harmed themselves, but every single one of them lost someone they loved, if not several. It took surprisingly few of these attacks for the first resistance to crumble - for those who were brave with their own fate could not bear to have their families suffer because of their actions. But when they stepped back, deciding that hiding and protecting those remaining was a better course of action, that was when he unleashed his real power. Despite the threats that the Death Eaters had initially projected, it was not the muggle-borns who suffered. No, there was no discrimination in the slaughter, purebloods falling as soon as those of muggle descent. Those who were cowardly were victims as often as those who were brave, and stood forward. Those who had money soon found that their wealth could do nothing to save them, but the poor were not spared, either.

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
The rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong

By the end of the first wave, so much was lost. So much that was irreplaceable. Lives, spirits, families, all broken and tossed by the wayside. Nobody was unaffected. Few could believe that there would ever be peace again. Yet from the rubble, the Boy-Who-Lived, and those who were faithful to him, stepped forward. And then, a strange thing happened. As they sometimes say, though hope is frail, it's hard to kill. The hope of the wizards everywhere had been crushed, but not yet eliminated. Harry Potter. He had saved them once, who was to say he couldn't do it again? An unconscious stirring of belief in him arose, and he prepared to face his lifelong enemy. Wizards stood up beside him, realising that it was now or never. If they didn't fight now, and deal with the consequences, they would have no future at all. And so, if they could save the future for even a handful of people, then it would be worth the cost. And so they stood up again, this time realising the grim truth of it, and standing in spite of it. Or perhaps they stood because of it. Either way, their intent was clear. Let us end this.

And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight

The months that followed were - still are - indescribable. He struck with a viciousness that cannot be compared, yet the people, fighting not for power, as he was, but for their very existence, retaliated with their own raw, determined power. Have you heard the story of the parent who single-handedly lifts a car because their child was stuck beneath? It was the same power of spirit, strength of heart, that powered people onwards disregarding their physical capabilities, which overruled. They fought with claw, tooth and nail, with spirit, heart and soul. They were led by their messiah, yet it was the people themselves who won their own battle. In this world of magic, the ancient types run deep, far deeper than anyone could possibly hope to learn or master. And there is something that exists, that seems to protect the true of heart, and champion the strong of spirit. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with magic, and it was simply the brute force of will these people showed in their desperate battle. And in the end, somehow, it prevailed.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

The forces of darkness were slowly beaten back, and in a final showdown, Harry Potter faced Voldemort. The epitome of darkness pitted against the hardened, grim, determined boy - no, man. He had been a man long before, even at an age many would consider only a young boy. They dueled, for hours it seemed. Deliberately, to the very last moments, Voldemort played his tricks. He aimed 'accidental' curses at Harry's friends, killing many of them. Neville fell, then Tonks, then Luna and Lupin, amongst others. But it was only when Ron Weasley caught the death curse in the centre of his chest, and collapsed on the floor, that Harry appeared to falter. But a moment later, his face drawn up in a terrible grimace, the Boy-Who-Lived retaliated, destroying Voldemort as he stood, enjoying the torment in his opponent's face. That moment of gloating hesitation was his downfall, and finally, robbing the darkness that still gripped the world of it's very own center, with a single blow weakening it's hold of fear and oppression, and would become looser further in the weeks to come.

And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

But in a tragic, final twist of fate, two weeks later, one of the last remaining Death Eaters, a little-known man named Letifer Nex, caught Harry unsuspecting, throwing a death curse at him as he left his home, finally felling the famous wizard. This tragic event, occurring when everyone finally thought it was safe, nearly toppled the resistance. The darkness was still present, though growing ever weaker, but for one devastating moment, the wizards almost believed that the safety they had worked so hard for was gone. But Harry's remaining circle of friends and family stood up tall, held their heads high, and kept going. And the rest of the world followed.

And so happy Christmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

Slowly, slowly, the buildings that were destroyed were rebuilt, but nothing could truly mend the souls that had been ripped apart by the events. So many could not forget, could not recover from whom they had lost. But they valued their freedom, and consoled themselves with the knowledge that the children born in the years after the war would have a bright future. They had not fought in vain, and their tremendous losses were worth the prospect of a real, true future. The girl by the window would not forget, could not forget. She had lost the one she loved, her best friend, even her family had perished in the chaos. But even so, she could go on. She could live.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

And that Christmas, when the air was crisp with the cold, and the ground covered in a layer of bright, fresh snow, a faint noise could be heard in the distance. People were singing.