Title: The Wand, the Sickle and the Hammer

Author: Communist Krum

Translator: Trinitylsw

Rating: M

Category and Warnings: AU, Future!Fic, OOC, Disturbing Imagery

Haiku!Disclaimer: JK's characters/ I don't get a Knut from it/ Only for the thrill

Feedback: It makes my writer happy. And it makes her dance… or not… it makes me dance anyways…

Author Notes: This is my first official fic. A challenge, of course, 'cuz you can't say anything nowadays without people daring you to turn it into a fic. I won't tell you exactly what the terms of the challenge were, you'll see for yourselves…

Translator Notes: Okay! As CK's beta-reader, I used to have to only… well, beta-read. Now, since our creative team works so well, over there in the French part of she asked me to translate the fic to English. So, here goes. And, since I don't have a beta of my own, all mistakes are just that… my own. Also, don't look too closely for Seamus's accent… he doesn't have one in French (it's impossible to write), and we didn't really give him one here. Okay, enough. On to the fic!

Chapitre 1: Waking Up without Coffee

Merlin! I always liked sleeping, but this time, I don't know if I'll ever be able to open me eyes!

Such was Seamus Finnigan's first thought upon waking up in St-Mungo's Hospital. Seamu took a moment to try and understand his current situation. His presence on the building's fourth floor led him to believe he had spent quite a while in this shabby little bed. The way his breath could scare away a troll was also a fairly good indication. Looking around the room, he told himself that St-Mungo's has changed quite a lot. The walls would have happily welcomed a new paint job, and there was an ever-present draft coming from the tiny window which bathed the room in the occasional ray of sunshine. The last time he was in St-Mungo's…

Slowly, memories came back to him… His seventh year at Hogwarts, a year haunted by Dumbledore's death and the disappearance of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Their absence had caused quite a stir for a while, the Wizarding community feeling lost without its "Chosen One". Seamus had gone back to the wizarding school, despite his parent's strong opposition. He was still convinced that, even without Dumbledore, the school was still the safest place he could go to. The very small number of students aboard the Hogwarts Express showed him that not everyone agreed with him. He was not, in fact, totally right. Minerva McGonagall, in her start-of-year address, had announced that, even within the castle's walls, everybody should exercise caution at all times… Which they all did. Most students engrossed themselves in their schoolwork, so as not to be caught defenseless. Hogwarts had once witnessed the war against Voldemort; but this time, without Dumbledore, without Harry… A threat was closing in on Hogwarts, and nobody felt strong enough to face it.

At the end of the year, what little hope was left in each of Great Britain's wizards was reduced to ashes. Mounted on top of a pike, Harry Potter's head was found in Muggle London, right over the Ministry's headquarters. Lord Voldemert had won. He even made sure everybody knew the story of the Boy-Who-Finally-Died. Harry, Ronald and Hermione had spent the whole year looking for Horcruxes. One at a time, they had found the missing objects and destroyed them. They only had to fight Voldemort himself and all would be over. Only that, and battle his army of Death Eaters. Wanting to save his friends from death, Harry slipped a sleeping draught in their food, and went alone to meet with his enemy. The Dark Lord had gigantic images, which showed Harry Potter writhing in pain, displayed all over London. From this moment on, Great Britain had become Hell on Earth. Witches and wizards lived in constant fear and tried to survive… and Muggles didn't even know what was happening… they just died.

As these memories rushed back to his mind, Seamus felt more and more exhausted. He did catch the irony of the situation: he had just woken up form a coma that had lasted days, months, or even years… And a bunch of dusty old memories was enough to bring him down. If only it had stopped there. But it was only the beginning of the story…

For two years, Voldemort had reigned, each day conquering more of Europe and adding to the list of casualties. Resistance? It had too many flaws to hold up, or rather, too many traitors seduced by the Dark Lord. Voldemort started by wiping out the Ministry. He sent his army in the building in broad daylight. A massacre; the survivors could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Pale and trembling, they finally escaped from that hell, covered in blood… Most of them lost their mind. Seamus couldn't bring himself to list the too-many people he had known and lost. Following the complete extermination of the Ministry, the only thing keeping total chaos at bay was the Order of the Phoenix… It fought proudly… yet, one after the other, its members fell. Few of them were spared… or went missing… Seamus had a bitter laugh. After spending some time under Lord Voldemort's reign, the news of a disappearance was welcomed with a relieved sigh… It was either that, or finding one's loved ones in tiny bloody pieces all across the country.

After a year, Seamus was contacted by people who still wanted to fight and still believed they could win. It came as a surprise; he initially thought they were crazy… Especially seeing as these two men were not the first people he would have thought of as saviours of the Wizarding World. Ron and Hermione were of course part of that group of rebels, but they were little more than a pale reflection of what they once were. Having unwittingly survived Voldemort's wrath, they were nonetheless the living symbol of Harry Potter's failure. They were far from being leaders… No, those who had recruited him were none other than Viktor Krum and Draco Malfoy… Why had they chosen him? Seamus was still conviced that his beating heart was one of the most important reasons… People who could be trusted and who were still alive were becoming rarer and rarer. When he first accepted their offer, he didn't realized they had just formed a new heroic trio. Truthfully, he still didn't realize it… Seamus remembered having fought alongside Krum and Malfoy on numerous occasions… yet the circumstances surrounding his arrival in St-Mungo's were still a mystery to him. He was wrenched for his thoughts by a little witch in hysterics who had just entered the room.

-Comrade Finnigan? COMRADE FINNIGAN? You're awake, she yelled.

Apparently, Seamus Finnigan's ears had been out of order for quite a while, because that shrill shout had made him dizzy. And… what was this "comrade" thing? It seemed he had been out of it long enough for the world to change during his absence. The little deafening witch apparently didn't have it in her plans to let him slowly reintegrate the world of the living; she spoke way too fast and way too loudly… without giving him the slightest opportunity to speak a single word, of course!

-Comrade Finnigan! It is such an hooooooooonor for me to speak to you… Do you need anything? When the community hears of your waking up, there will be celebrations for weeks… Do you want a glass of water? Something to eat? There are clean clothes for you in the closet. You know, we never stopped hoping… Oh! What am I waiting for? You know, we have received strict orders: we were to tell Comrade Krum and Comrade Malfoy at once, in the event that you should wake up…

She left the room with a series of high-pitched giggles… Seamus could, for a moment, swear he heard her yelling in the corridors, "Seamus the Righteous is back! Comrade Finnigan has woken up!" But that was impossible, right! After all, Seamus was nothing more than a sympathetic Irishman who had survived the war… Like many other wizards. And anyways, even if that was the case, why had she called him Seamus the Righteous? How stupid was that war hero name? Nooo, not the Brave, the Terrible or the Magnificent… And why had that stupid woman gone so fast? A glass of water… he would have gladly taken one! He got up, gingerly, waiting for the room to start spinning around him… Seamus was not disappointed: he felt as if he was on a boat in the middle of a storm… Wisely, he went back to bed. What world had he woken up to? St-Mungo's was crumbling down, and, well, as someone who had spent and unknown amount of time in a coma and just woken up, he would have expected to see hordes of Healers coming in to poke and prode him from all angles… not only a little pudgy noise-maker, probably a secretary or a receptionist, who came him to declare him awake. That, he knew. What Seamus didn't know, were things as trivial as… what day it was… in what year… why was he here in the first place… Heaving a frustrated sigh, he decided to go get the anwers for himself… after he got changed. The world had changed, but hosptal pyjamas had stayed the same: they really didn't hide anything more than they used to, and their smog-blue colour was just as ugly as it had always been… Before trying to get up again, the newly-alive hero, in as dignified a way as he could managed, sniffed his armpits and decided that a shower was in order.

One step… Two… Three… Yeah, Seamus, you're the man! You walk like a God! Open the closet… What are those? Ceremony clothing? They reminded him a bit of the Durmstrang uniforms… The golden embroideries and the decorations gave them a slightly military look… Seems there's nothing better… He would trade the smog-blue postage-stamp he was currently wearing for the over-decorated disguise… He would find something normal to wear… eventually. C'mon! To the shower! One step.. Two.. Three… C'mon, Seamus, don't let this overwhelming motion sickness get to you! You are great, handsome and strong! This kind of transe-coma-unconsciousness will not get the best of you! You have the legendary courage… of the Irish (of the Gryffindors, as well… )!

At that thought, Seamus took a few seconds to let his thoughts wander to his next drinking session… He knew for a fact it would be a time to remember. It is only then that he realized he hadn't found his wand… but more importantly… MUCH more importantly: his FireWhisky flask! This is definitely the worse kind of waking ever… Why couldn't he have woken up as Muggles do, in a muggle hospital, from a muggle coma as they did in muggle films, where a beautiful young muggle nurse with huge muggle breast would have told himin a muggle way, "Mr. Finnigan… You are in the hospital, you have just woken up. Now, will you marry me?" The fact that there probably wasn't any Muggle hospital left standing in England probably counted as a possible reason… I'm starting to think stupid thoughts… I might have played Sleeping Beauty, but me body still asks for its morning Irish coffee… Arf… And now, all I'll have is a cold shower… Why aren't I dead?

Somebody would have to give him answers… And they'd better be good!