Everyone knows the story. Everyone knows of how Harry Potter defeated the tyrant, the Dark Lord, He-who-shall-not-be-named, Lord Voldemort. Everyone knew happier days would come eventually. The defeat of the Dark Lord lifted the ominous clouds above their collective heads. A wave of optimism—of euphoria—washed over the population. People took their brethren's arms in great embrace, and the love returned to the world. The wizarding world was at peace, and Britain could return to its former glory. The rebounding curse, the ultimate—and final—defeat of the great tyrant ended the three-decade long epic. A generation had been embroiled in the greatest conflict the wizarding world could remember. The wizarding world had their own "greatest generation." A generation that had overcome all the hardships to last a lifetime; after all they had done, after all they had been through, rebuilding would be easy—the golden age was coming… right? With the defeat of the Dark Lord, the final scattering of his forces, and the dispelling of his plague, the wizarding world had finally written the last word in the saga. The fairy tale was over… the real world awaited. The real world, where the enemy did not mark brand themselves on the arm, where there was no evil overlord to unite them, where the answers never appeared so obvious, where the coda wasn't the end. —— Real life is never that simple. |