Monuments and Memories

Monuments and Memories

Every second, somewhere in the world, someone dies. During war the number is doubled, even tripled. The death tolls are high, reaching the most absurd numbers on a daily basis. Death holds out for no man and claims even the most innocent of lives. War is death's playground.

One cannot have war without casualties. And with casualties come mourners. The hardest part of war comes not with the fighting and the killing, but when you have to tell someone that their loved one has died. Their mournful, heart-wrenching cries stay with you for days, even weeks. It became as much a burden to tell of a death as to be the cause of one.

As a way around the problem, the Ministry decided to create a monument. Large black marble was enchanted to show and commemorate every person killed in the war. When someone was pronounced officially dead, or missing in action, their name was added. Order members, innocent bystanders, and even Death Eaters were listed. There was some controversy over listing the names of Death Eaters with Order members and the innocent bystanders, but the dispute was quickly settled. A death is a death. Buried in the cold ground every corpse was the same. To dig two up and look at them one wouldn't be able to tell anything about the acts they committed during their life. Everyone is equal in death, and so, the monument held all names.

As the list of casualties grew, the monument expanded. Every day more names would be added to the list. Those who weren't an active part of the war, and didn't witness or cause any deaths, gathered around the monument daily. Some of them were there more than once a day. Sometimes you'd hear sighs of relief and sometimes you'd be unfortunate enough to hear wails of anguish.

There were pleas for it not to be true, for everything to be a bad dream.. It wasn't. Every day the list grew longer and the people surrounding it grew more depressed. In some bizarre way, their memories came to live on inside the monument. As the death tolls rose higher, people's spirits faded. They drifted away from the monument and kept to themselves and their families. No one wanted to see a constant reminder of the horrors of war.

It wasn't until the Halloween of 1981 that the names finally stopped. Lily and James were the last to be added, along with Peter Pettigrew. For thirteen years the monument stayed hidden; no new names were added. And for thirteen years some of us wondered if we could have prevented any of it. We knew another war was on the horizon, but we refused to believe it. Many were still mourning over the first war.

It was very rarely that anyone visited the monument now. The Ministry had been sure to keep it out of view - a constant reminder of their past errors. Fudge had half-convinced himself that it never existed. The children at school didn't even know anything about it. The ones who did know it existed, such as myself, couldn't bear to look at it.

After those thirteen years, however, another name was added: Bertha Jorkins. The few of us who still remembered the monument were puzzled. How could another name be added? As far as we knew, there was no second war. Many turned a blind eye to the newest name etched on the black marble, thinking it was merely a mistake.

But then another appeared - Cedric Diggory. And hardly a year after his name, one more was added. Sirius Black.

And so the Second War began. They say that history has a way of repeating itself and this was no exception. The monument started collecting more names and Voldemort swept through England, on a grisly killing spree.

Students from the school were added to our ranks, students who had just graduated. In some cases, they hadn't. Eager to fight and eager for the taste of blood they set out to do what we failed to do more than thirteen years ago. Many of them met the same fate that our old friends had.

War still rages in our world, each side equally strong, with no end in sight. The list on our cold monument grows as the days go by. To some it provides hope, to some grief, and to some a strange sense of comfort. I watch people come daily; hope in their eyes, hoping that the name they are looking for isn't on the monument. I see some come to remember their dead friends and family. Often, I see Harry Potter walk along the monument, which has become quite lengthy, trailing his hands over the names. He always stops in the same places - his parents, Sirius, and old classmates. I've seen him shed tears over that cold marble and cry out angry words, beating his fists against it. I've also seen him stand there, looking as if he just lost his best friend. We've all lost someone close.

I can't look at the monument any more. It brings back too many memories.. Each name brings back some kind of memory. Figments dance before my eyes and I wonder: Could we have prevented this? Instead of seeing only memories could we be seeing our friends alive again?

Maybe. I really don't know. I would like to believe that we could have prevented it. I would like to believe that Harry never lived an abnormal life, different from everyone else. I would like to see James playing Quidditch again. I would like to hear Sirius's bark-like laugh and watch him flirt with the girls. I would like to talk to Lily again, laughing over the most ridiculous things. I would like to see Alice and Frank alive and full of joy again. I would like to see these young children back in school and not fighting against an unbeatable force. I would like to stop the killing.

Most of all, I would like to believe it never happened. But, I can't. None of us can. As long as the names are still added to the monument we'll be here, fighting, dying, and remembering.

Tear down these monuments

Bury the coat of arms

And rebuild for me these memories.