Author’s Note: Thoughts of a 15/16 years old teen born in the very peak of the war against Grindewald. He hopes and he dreams…

Disclaimer: It. STOP. Belongs. STOP. To. STOP. JKR. STOP.

I dream of more joyful times

I dream of sparkling water

Of untouched purity, of spotless honour

Years without cries, without terrors and lies.

Someone told me, I do not remember who

Or when, why and where,

“There was once a time

When we could walk in the moonlight,

Star gaze long past midnight,

Smile without restraint and laugh without complaint.”

Where as that time gone?

What happened to all the careless children?

Where are the explosions, the loud music?

The flights under glowing constellations?

We live in the darkest times

Darker and darker with the passing days

Eyes lose their light, faces gain foreign lines:

Fear turns screams into terrified whispers,

Agony turns a caress into the tightest grip,

The war turns devoted friends into deadly enemies...