These Little Reminders

Frank struggled a lot more than most people would assume. And he did not struggle over the usual stuff. He struggled over things that should be really simple and seemed to be simple to all of the people around him, and yet, Frank struggled. Mostly, it was with where he was going. He knew he had to help people, that there was a war brewing and he needed to be doing all he could to make sure that no one was needlessly harmed. Yet... he wondered. Was this where he was needed? Could he even help anyone, he could hardly help himself.

He came here. The Garden of Solace. It reminded him of what was at stake, of why he should aggressively defending good and light. Of why they could not give up. Children, men, and women had died. Neutral, good, and bad- they were dead. The only way to be able to prevent further deaths was to stop the powers of evil from spreading more darkness and pain.

Frank needed to see the names, the plaques, the sculptures, all of the reminders of the fallen, the physical representations of those he could not save, those he could not help, and those he had to make it up to somehow. He had to do something, had to help someone to make up for his failure in helping them. He needed these reminders.

After a little while in the silent clearing, Frank stood from the bench he was sitting at, his long legs unfolding beneath him. He reached up and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair before walking towards the gazebo. He walked inside of it and began to walk up the stories of it, his dark chocolate eyes skimming over more and more name, more and more reminders of what he was supposed to be doing in this world. He paused at the top and sighed, closing his eyes. One question came to his mind, a question that haunted him since the battle that had turned his thinking inside out.

Where did peace go?

Zada had gone out from the castle. Had gone out exploring, looking...well, scouting, really. She was looking for people, places, things that just was not going to rub Gellert the right way. And then she had come across the Lupin's little attempt at soothing over the wizarding public for their own ineptitude. She decided to leave it. It interested her. She sensed some sort of layers of protection spells around it. It made her laugh.

She wandered the grounds for a bit and then saw a young man walking through and starting the climb up the gazebo. She found him interesting. She remembered him from her reading of files at the Ministry. She apparated up to the top, right behind him.

Dressed in a cold, unfriendly ice blue, she stood behind him so close that her breath would caress his neck. Longbottom. His father would have been a bit "creeped" but would have stood up to her. Frankie Boy here had seemed to be perhaps another story indeed. And that interested her. Just in case, her hand wrapped around the elegant wand in her long coat in an equally cold, uncaring shade of battleship gray.

"Strange, isn't it, Longbottom?" she asked in an eerie near whisper. "How it is that some people seem to keep bringing up the natural inevitability of failure and death and find a need to marinate themselves in that sort of suffering. Is that what brought you here? Do you find comfort in the death that is all around you when its wearing such a thin disguise as peace and comfort? I fail to see how this would do much of anything but perhaps try to erase one's guilt."