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Done with Bonaparte by keroberros
Chapter 1 : I: We Prayed These Wars Would End All Wars
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 2

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 Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no money from the writing of this story
The song “Done with Bonaparte” is by Mark Knopfler. The title of this story, chapter and quotes in the story summary are from this song.

A/N: I have added a magical twist to the Napolean Complex in relation to blood purity. I hope it fits nicely with the song.
Also, I’ve seen many brilliant fics from Luna’s point of view that show her crazy side. For this one, I’m going to show the serious but still lovable Luna that we know.

Chapter I

We prayed these wars would end all wars

And yet we knew that this could never be the case. For even after everything, after we felt that all hope would be lost, there was one thing that we clung to desperately: a will to survive. And it was this will that would end everything that we had fought so hard to protect and free.

It had begun years ago before I had even been born and it would end then too. At least, that’s what they had thought, but in truth it was merely the calm before the storm. And what a storm it was. The winds of destruction had been eating away at both wizarding and Muggle society for two years. The rains of sorrow had flooded peoples’ hearts. The lightening of death had flashed away so many that we would never be able to tell the true number of those that not only we, but they too lost.

And for what? What was the purpose of this all really? We strove to save our world from the clutches of a mad man who wanted to “purify” us and ended up with this. And even I, Luna Loovegood have to be serious about it, because the horrors that I have witnessed have changed me. The deeds that people have committed for the greater good were little more than petty revenge upon a perceived wrong. It is the wars themselves that are wrong.

We prayed these wars would end all wars

And yet the way things stand I doubt that this will ever happen. I cannot bring myself to look upon the faces of those that I must face. We are truly in the eye of the storm, here, on the grounds of Hogwarts.

It is with inevitability that I face my fate, for I do not expect to survive here. How can I when I can honestly say that my heart is not in it? It never has been. I wonder what this makes me? A traitor, no doubt.

Yes. I, Draco Malfoy am a blood traitor.

No doubt those that I face would find that knowledge sweetly ironic. I would laugh at the absurdity of it myself if I could. But it is no laughing matter. It is a death sentence.

My whole life has led to this one pivotal moment. This one final choice. Do I stay here and fight for him? Do I flee? Or do I do the unthinkable and fight against him? The road is split three ways and I cannot see which path to choose. This is no longer a case of who is right and who is wrong. It is no longer simply about beliefs. It has become nothing more than a lust for dominance and revenge.

I do not want a part in such a thing. The very idea of revenge for revenge’s sake repulses me. I am not my father no matter how much I may look like him, yet it is some twisted form of love or affection towards him that has me here today.

That is another question that I must answer. Do I love my father? Do I love him enough to do this, to follow this man possibly to my death for something that I do not believe in?

I love my father and it is for him that I am here today. It nearly destroyed him when my mother died and so he threw himself in to producing The Quibbler. He wanted it to succeed. For her. She had always encouraged him with it and wouldn’t let him give up on his dreams. She was different than him and I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps I should be just like her to make up for our loss.

I tried for a while, but in the end I couldn’t. There was no replacing my mother. There is no replacing anyone in this world. I know that now. I know that if I am to die in what we pray will be the final battle, my father will be alone. My father will not survive without us.

But the reward far outweighs the risk. I want my father to be able to write what he pleases without being censored. I want my father to not worry any more. I want my father to be able to be himself again. For this, I am prepared to die.

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