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The Good Fight

Hi,

Im rather new at this, and most likely all my post will be the fan fic im doing.

So, anyways, heres my 1st story...
A/N: This story is based on a Dixie Chicks' song called Travelin' Soldier”; the song is a love story set during the Vietnam War. After listening to this song, it occurred to me that in the battle with Voldemort, a number of young idealistic witches and wizards would go off to fight the good fight only to come home in boxes.
I also make the assumptions in this story that: A) Irish witches and wizards would follow the Britain Ministry of Magic; B) Schools other than the big three exist; and C) that some of these small magic schools could be religious ones. (Just think, a Witch Nun with a ruler…). Im no good at writing accents, so just pretend they have accents as you read. Oh, and the main female character is 16; the main male character is 18.
 
Thank you to my beta, Vaughn.
 
Crevan: Celtic/Gaelic, Fox.             
Lachlan: Celtic/Gaelic, From the land of lakes
Riona: Celtic/Gaelic, Queen like                                             
Alistair: Celtic/Gaelic, Defender of Men
Bridget: Celtic/Gaelic, a saint’s name and the name of an ancient Celtic Goddess.
 
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The Good Fight
 
I met him just two days after we had heard the news that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the devil himself, had returned. I had seen him at school a few times and had always wanted to talk to him. He always looked so sad. He tried to hide it, but you could see it in his eyes. My house mistress, Sister Mary Bridget, had warned us to stay away from the older boys, and being the good girl I was, I did as she said and never tried to talk to him. My brother (who was a year ahead of me) told me that his name was Crevan, and that he was a Muggle-born wizard. He never went home during the summers because his parents had disowned him and left him at an orphanage when his powers first manifested. My brother said that he was always trying to prove he was a real wizard, not just a Muggle. I thought that that was so sad, that his family had abandoned him when Gods blessing had started to show, and that the saddest part of it was that he was ashamed of himself.
 
I watched him and others graduate that fateful June day, the news of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had just returned eclipsing the normally happy event. As I left with my new fifth year jumper, I took one last glance at him. I noticed that he was staring across the road to the schools orphanage. It had always been tradition that the magic-born orphans would take up a calling within the church, looking for other lost ones--as they had been--and getting them to safe places. I turned away from him as my parents called me over, but not before I saw a lone tear trickle down his face.

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Two days later, I was sitting inside the pub drinking a soda when Crevan walked in. I had forgotten about graduation day already and was thinking about my plans for the summer. Much to my surprise, he came over to me and sat down. His eyes were still sad, but he also looked a little scared.
           
Hi…you’re Lachlans little sister, Riona, arent you? he asked me shyly, looking down at the table, his hands fidgeting as he waited for my response.
 
Yeah, thats me. Youre Crevan, right? My brother told me about you, I said rapidly, not wanting to lose the chance to talk to this boy who had so intrigued me now that I had it.
           
Yeah, thats me…so…would you like to take a walk? he said, suddenly looking up at me. I could see that he was nervous; I wondered if asking me for a walk was why he had looked scared.
           
Sure! I know this wonderful little spot down by the river, its so calm and relaxing, a really nice place for a walk, I said, smiling up at him, suddenly wanting to get the look of fear and sadness out of his eyes. I noticed that it was still there as we walked down the lane to the river. We just walked quietly; I started to worry for him, wondering why he looked so afraid.
           
Why dont we sit here, Riona, I…I want to ask you something…
           
Sure, I was getting a bit tired anyways. I smiled at him again and sat down, slipping my shoes and socks off to dangle my feet in the river. We sat there for a bit again, not talking, just being with each other.
           
So…you know how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, right?
           
Yea, my mum and dad told me when they saw me on graduation day. I cant believe he is back; I thought Harry Potter had killed him...but I guess the devil can come back to life. 
 
He nodded, looking into the river as if searching it for answers.
           
Did you know that the Ministry of Magic has asked for volunteers for the Dark Arts Defense Squad? Brother Alistair told me about it the night after graduation. He said that I had gotten top marks, and that I should think about applying.
           
I gasped, suddenly afraid for him. Are you…did you apply?
           
Yes…I just found out this morning that I was accepted into the accelerated training program in Dublin. Im not sure what happens after that, but I've got to defend my people! I know in my heart that its what I have to do…being a Brother or a Priest or anything in the church never interested me. But this…this does, and I know I would be of service, I could save people…I could prove that Im a real wizard!
           
You ARE a real wizard, Crevan; dont let anyone else ever tell you different! Youre doing a brave thing…but dont do it because you think you need to prove yourself. Youre...youre one of the best wizards I know…the Sisters and Brothers think so, too, I heard them talking one day… I said, anger suddenly gone as I remembered how embarrassed I had been when Sister Mary Bridget caught me eavesdropping.
           
Thank you, Riona…thats the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me. Actually…thats why I asked you to walk with me today.
           
You asked me on a walk because Im kind?
           
Yes…youre the kindest witch I know…and I was wondering…well…well, I bet you got a boyfriend, but I dont care. I got no one to send an owl to; would you mind if sent one back here to you?
           
I…yes, of course you can…but thats not true, you know, that you have no one to send an owl to. I know Brother Alistair really likes you, Im sure he would want to hear from you too.
           
Maybe he would…but, well…I dont like him the same way I like you, Riona, he said, blushing. Looking deep into my eyes, he leaned towards me. I sat still, not sure what to do…I knew what Sister Mary Bridget would say right now, but I didn’t think anyone should go off to war without a kiss. I didn’t realize until much later that the real reason I didn’t move was because I liked him just as much as he liked me.
           
The kiss was soft and gentle, our lips just barely touching. We got up and walked back to town holding hands. As we got near the pub where we had met earlier, he let go of my hand. Giving me one last look, a look that said he wanted to kiss me, but didn’t want to get us in trouble, he laid a hand on my shoulder instead.
           
I go to Dublin for training tomorrow…thank you, Riona.
           
Bye, Crevan…Ill be looking for your owl, so dont forget!
           
I wont ever forget, Riona…not ever,” he said, almost whispering it, before he turned around, and went back up the road to the orphanage.
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Dear Riona,
 
Training is hard, much harder than classes ever were. It’s not that Brother Alistair didn’t teach us well, its just that this is so much more advanced, and so fast! They are trying to get defense officers into the field as fast as possible, but they dont want to under train us. Our teachers told us that we will be posted far from our hometowns so there is no chance of favoritism. I had hoped to come back and defend our town, but I guess I cant.
           
As official Ministry employees, we get paid every two weeks. Ive never had money of my own before and wasnt sure what to do with it at first. But then I remembered you and bought you something. It’s coming via separate owl; I hope you like it. The clerk said that it was enchanted to give off light in the dark, but that only the one who was wearing it would see the light.
           
I would write more, but I need to get to sleep. We wake up early, and there is always much to do.
 
Yours always,
Crevan.
 
I kept every letter he ever sent me, but this is one of my favorites. Not because of the present he told me about--a red hair bow with a golden cross on its knot--but because it was the first letter that he sent that truly sounded like him (his others letters had been so formal). I think it was this letter that made me realize how I felt about him. It was also this letter that got my father upset about some boy taking liberties with his daughter. He almost took the hair bow away from me until Mum pointed out that this could help me if I ever got lost, and that a boy raised by the Brothers wouldnt take liberties with anyone. Father grumbled, but in the end let me keep the bow.
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Dearest Riona,
 
Ive done it! I graduated today from training, and with top honors! My professor is so impressed with me that he recommended that I be sent for duty in London, as a Ministry of Magic guard. He also said that I should apply for Auror training, but I told him that I wanted to serve during the war and could always apply afterwards. He agreed that the training takes a long time, but that I should still consider it. Maybe I will in a year or two. I have to leave for London in thirty minutes, so I have to cut my letter short. I hope you like the picture of me in my new Dark Arts Defense Squad uniform.
 
Love you,
Crevan.
 
I keep the picture he sent me with all his letters. He was so happy in the picture, grinning from ear to ear, and showing off his new uniform proudly. I take it out from time to time and look at the fine young man in the picture, ready and willing to defend those weaker than him. This was the first time he said he loved me. I wrote him a quick note as soon as I got it, saying that I loved him too, and then a much longer letter after I’d had a chance to reread and savor his letter.
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Lovely Riona,
 
Today was…ghastly. The Death Eaters attacked the official from the Ludicrous Patents Office I was guarding. My friend Robert was on duty with me. Three Death Eaters attacked us. Mine must have been new, or just not very good, because I was able to Stupefy him right off.Robert took on the other two Death Eaters. Before I could distract one of them from him, they…they killed him! One of those monsters cast the Cruciatus Curse, on him while the other started to go for me. It was horrible…they told us what it would look like in training…but they never told us what it would sound like. I was just so…so mad at them…I cast a Disarming Spell on the one coming at me, sending him crashing into a wall. The last Death Eater, seeing that he was outnumbered; gave me a vicious smile as I raised my wand at Robert. Before I could cast anything, he cast The Killing Curse on Robert. His face looked relaxed as he died…I guess he was, at least the pain ended. I cast another Disarming Spell at the last Death Eater (Brother Alistair was right; its a versatile spell) but he Apparated before it hit him. I found the official I was guarding cowering behind a box; he didnt even try to raise his wand.
           
This isnt the first time Ive had to fight the Death Eaters; I just didnt want to worry you before. But I realized today I could have died just like Robert, and you would never have really known what I felt or why. You would never have known that I love you, that I fell in love with you that day you won the potions contest back in your third year. If I had died, you would have never known that I want to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you. If I had died, you would have never known that the only thing that gets me through some days, the only thing that reminds me why Im doing this, why Im away from the girl I love, is that day we spent down by the river, the day I kissed you. When its getting kind of rough over here, I close my eyes and see your pretty smile.
 
Don't worry, but I won't be able to write for awhile.
 
I love you,
Crevan.
 
I wrote Crevan back as soon as I read the letter, telling him that I loved him too, that I was scared that he was fighting, but I knew that that was why he went over to London. I told him that I wanted to marry him too, to spend my life with the bravest wizard I had ever known. I sent it right off to him, writing so fast that some of the words were blurred. My soul was singing with joy. I was going to marry the man I loved!
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Two weeks after I got his letter, I was at a Friday night Quidditch game. We said the Lord's Prayer and sang the school anthem like always. As the ref took the balls out to the field and the teams mounted up, Brother Alistair ran onto the bandstand, his robes flying around him in his haste. His face was red, and at the time, I thought it was because he had been running. 
 
Ladies and Gentlemen, Ive just received some saddening news. Today, in service to God and country, Crevan Churchson was murdered by the Death Eaters. His brave actions saved the life of the head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects and his daughter. For his brave actions he is being awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class. Please, a moment of silence for this young, brave man.
 
Suddenly my world narrowed to only one thought…dead, he was dead, my love was dead. I ran down the stands and out of the stadium, not caring that I had disrupted the moment of silence. Tears streaming down my face, I ran to the room I’d stayed in during the school week and to his letters. I thought that if I just read them, then maybe he wouldnt actually be dead. I sat, crying, curled up on the floor with his letters in my hand. Hours later, Sister Mary Bridget found me; I had cried myself asleep. She picked me up, placing me on the bed. She told me later that she had tried to uncurl my fingers from his letters, but that I just wouldn’t let go.
 
I woke the next day to find Sister Mary Bridget sitting in a chair beside me. I sat up.
 
Good morning, child…do you remember what happened last night? she asked me gently.
 
Yes…he is dead, isnt he? Crevan is dead! I started to cry again, gently rocking back and forth, my grief overcoming me.
 
Oh, poor child…I know its terrible that someone from our school has died, but he died for a noble reason and is surely with God; dont be too upset, she said, trying to comfort me. I realized that no one but my family knew about us, that everyone else must think that Im just a silly girl, getting upset over someone I hardly knew.
 
I stopped rocking and looked into her eyes. I loved him, Sister…and he loved me, I said, almost whispering, as I handed her our letters. She read each one, her hands shaking. By the time she had read our last letter, she was crying too.
 
Oh, you poor dear…Brother Alistair said that he was seeing someone, but we all thought it was someone he had met in training…if we had known it was you, we would have told you privately...Im so sorry, my child, so very sorry,” she said as she held me, letting me cry myself out on her habit. As I calmed down, she reached for the rosary hanging at her waist. I thought she was about to pray, but instead she held the cross, bringing it to her mouth and blowing on it, then whispering a name.
 
Yes? Hello? Is that you, Sister Mary Bridget? Is she OK? As the disembodied voice spoke, I realized some place in the back of my mind that the rosary must also be some sort of communicator.
 
She is calmer, Brother Alistair, but there is something we need to talk about. Could you join us in her room?
 
Ill be right there.
 
She dropped her rosary and went back to holding me, gently stroking my hair as I rested my head on her shoulder. Brother Alistair came in, dark circles under his eyes. He used to look so young, even at 70, but now, somehow, he looked very old.
 
Yes? he asked softly, his voice empty of its normal exuberance.
 
Remember the girl Crevan told you about? It wasnt someone he met later...it was our dear Riona. She handed him our letters. He took them, reading silently. By the fourth letter, the one where he told me about his training, Brother Alistairs eyes were glistening. By the time he got to the one where Crevan had graduated, he was crying. As he read the last letter, he was shaking with emotion. I realized that Brother Alistair must have thought of Crevan as a son, not just a soul in his care.
 
My dear girl…I had no idea...if I had I would have…wait here, Saying the last two words with more conviction than he had said the rest of the sentence, he ran out of my room. Moments later, I heard him returning. He was carrying a small black box, a letter, and a slip of paper.
 
As his fiancé, you should have these. Someone from the Ministry delivered them last night. The of scrap paper was found in his pocket. He had it on him when he died. He thrust the objects into my arms, sitting down on the bed, his entire body taut with grief.
 
I looked down at what he gave me, opening the box first. It was his Order of Merlin, Third Class. It looked so bright, so new. Very few wizards ever got one of these. I knew that he would have been so happy to have this, proof that he was a real wizard. I set it aside and opened the letter. It was a note from the man he saved, someone named Arthur Weasley. It was a personal note, not some form letter. It thanked Crevans family for raising such a fine son, one that did what so few others were willing to do. He gave some details of Crevans final hours, and why his mission had been so important. He thanked us again, closing by saying that he and his daughter would never forget the brave man that saved them. Finally, I looked down at the scrap of paper.
 
It was my response to his letter, my yes to marry him. I had been in such a rush, I had forgotten to sign it. I didnt think he had gotten it, since I had no reply. He must have gotten it just before he left. It was little solace to me, but at least he died knowing that I loved him as he loved me, that I would marry him. I closed the box, putting the letter back in its envelope. But I stuck the scrap of paper in the box with all my other letters and gifts from him. I saw the picture he’d sent, the smiling boy waving fiercely at me. I took the picture out of the box, handing it to Sister Mary Bridget. She cried as she saw the picture, seeing him there, so happy. She handed it to Brother Alistair; he started to weep again.
 
He kept saying that he would send me a picture, but he just never got around to it…it’s nice to know that he was so happy, the Brother whispered. 
 
I handed Brother Alistair the box with the Order of Merlin, Third Class in it and the thank you letter. He looked up at me, confused.
 
He…he was my fiancé, but it was you and this school that raised him. These belong to all of us, Brother Alistair. Put them on display so every student can see his bravery, I told him firmly, the words suddenly coming to me as I spoke. I knew now that the real reason Crevan had always wanted to show himself to be a real wizard wasnt so much because he thought he wasnt one, but because he wanted to be an example for others, to show them that orphans were more than just future clergymen and women in the making.
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A year after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, our school was renamed in honor of Crevan. Amazingly, while he was not the only one from our town that went to fight, he was the only one that died. I still have the bow Crevan sent me; its in the same box as his letters and picture. I teach at our school now, but not as one of the sisters. I married eventually, but Ive never forgotten Crevan, or his sad eyes. His Order of Merlin, Third Class is still on display in the school trophy case and still has pride-of-place, along with the thank you letter and his yearbook picture. Everyone always remembers the big heroes of the war, Harry Potter and his friends. Yes, they did great things, things that no others could have. But so many others went off to fight the good fight and never came home. Our school is a living testament to that, and to what the brave actions of one person can do.
 
Years later, after the war ended, I met Arthur Weasley at a Ministry function.He was a very odd man, but one I liked from the first moment I saw him. When he found out who I was, he gave me a big hug, apologizing for my long ago grief. He pulled me along after him all night, introducing me to his wife and family. When I met his daughter, she hugged me too. She didnt say anything, but she gave me a sad little smile, patting my shoulder. That, more than anything anyone ever said, showed me how sorry they were for my loss.
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A/N:
The Song:
Two days past eighteen
He was waitin' for the bus in his army greens
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to the girl with a bow in her hair
he's a little shy so she give him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talkin', I'm feelin' a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go

So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I'll bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?

CHORUS:
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone
When the letter says a soldier's coming home

So the letters came From an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart, It might be love
And all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's gettin kinda rough over here
I think that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile

CHORUS

One Friday night at a football game
The Lord's Prayer said and the anthem sang
A man said folks would you bow your heads
For the list of local Vietnam dead
Cryin' all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read and no body really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair
 
CHORUS:X2
 

Comments

( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
notebooklove23
Jul. 27th, 2007 07:44 pm (UTC)
Wow. That's so sad.
It was good though.
myene_01
Jul. 27th, 2007 07:47 pm (UTC)
thanks!

i have another oen done, and one in the works.

cant post my other one untill aug. 20th (in a comp. over at http://www.sycophanthex.com )
anethema_device
Jan. 18th, 2008 10:52 am (UTC)
Wow
I started reading this sat at my desk in work and I had to get up and hide in the toilet for a few minutes as I was reduced to tears.

It was oh so beautiful and oh so sad.

Brilliant writing and so emotive
myene_01
Jan. 18th, 2008 10:55 am (UTC)
Re: Wow
thank you so much! this was my 1st HP fic actuly. Its also one of my favs. We see so much 'honorable war' and 'noble deaths' that we forget what realy happens some times.

If you liked this, I sugest Ron's War. Another sad romance fic.
anethema_device
Jan. 18th, 2008 01:23 pm (UTC)
Re: Wow
I confess I have just sat in work and read all of the ones that you featured on your most recent post to do_me_profsnape. I think they are all amazing, you have a fantastic imagination.
myene_01
Jan. 18th, 2008 07:46 pm (UTC)
Re: Wow
*does a happy dobby like smile*

thanks!
anethema_device
Jan. 18th, 2008 07:56 pm (UTC)
Re: Wow
No thank you for sharing these stories with us. Do you mind if I add you to my friends?
myene_01
Jan. 18th, 2008 07:59 pm (UTC)
Re: Wow
Sure, go ahead!

I do icons and stories. I do atleast 1 post (icosn or stories) a month, often more than 1 icon post a month.

story wise i avger 1 a month. The next story will ither be a multi chapther OMC adventure of an american wizard or a bio peace on snape. (unless i get another one shot idea, heh)
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )