A/N: Another short, slightly angsty oneshot. Just to let you know, this has four different POVs.

Here I Dreamt I Was A Soldier

And here I dreamt I was a soldier
And I marched the streets of Birkenau...

-The Decemberists

I got soul but I'm not a soldier!

-The Killers


I was expected to be a soldier, to be a leader of the Light side, meant to mobilize troops against the Dark Lord. I was expected to be brave and smart, but I wasn't. I hid in the Forest of Dean and obsessed over Hallows when I should have been seeking Horcruxes. While muggleborns were being imprisoned, families were being murdered, and my classmates suffered under the Carrows, I was wallowing in self-pity over the fact that Dumbledore had not shared his deepest secrets with me.

I did defeat Voldemort in the end, but I was never a soldier. Just an orphan, with his destiny chosen for him.


I was told to be loyal to the Dark Lord, to stand on the front lines and be ready to fight Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Mark was meant to be a badge of sorts, a symbol that here was a loyal soldier of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A Death Eater ready to give his life for the sake of the purity of the Wizarding race. Yet, where was I when the Dark Lord summoned? In the Room of Hidden Things, waiting for Potter and avoiding the battle.

I could not kill or torture or even fight like a soldier. Just hide like a coward, whose only loyalty was to himself.


I'd like to think I was brave, and that I really was a hero for destroying that Horcrux in the forest. I'd like to think so, but whenever someone calls me a hero there is always a little voice whispering in my ear, reminding me that I left Harry and Hermione alone in the forest. I betrayed them because I wasn't strong enough to keep going. I wasn't a leader or a soldier like Harry and Hermione were. At least I came back, and really, the only reason I did that was because it was Harry and Hermione that I'd left, and we'd been best mates for years.

So I'm not a courageous soldier. Just a friend, who was doing his duty.


They have called me a heroine. A soldier for the Light who trudged on even the face of Death itself. They are exaggerating. I am not an icon of fortitude or a pillar of strength and inspiration. Yes, I stood by Harry throughout the whole ordeal, because it was the right thing to do and he needed me and Ron there with him. My part in the whole thing was to memorize spells and know useful facts and to keep Harry from getting into too much trouble.

I am not, and never was, a soldier. Just a bookworm, doing what she did best and hoping that everything worked out in the end.


We were an orphan, a coward, a friend, and a bookworm. Four kids thrown into battle on the final day of the Great War. We may never have been the strongest, bravest, smartest, the best in dueling, or the most resourceful; we were merely teenagers. But for that day...that day, we were soldiers.