Post-apocalyptic one-shot, written pre-OotP! Harry and his son visit Hogwarts, or what remains of it...
A/N: I'm trying my hand at post-apocalyptic stories, as you can see here.
/"When Atlantis Sank,"/
"Where are we going, Dad?"
"You'll see, son."
A man of about forty years old and his son of about ten years old walked underneath an eternally dark and cloudy sky across fields and past a few ruined buildings here and there.
"Are we going to see the castle?"
"Yes, son, that's where we're going."
After walking through a deserted village of ruined buildings, it came in view.
Hogwarts... or what was left of it.
"Wow..." the boy breathed. "Dad, is this where you and all our family went to school?"
"Yep, that's it. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The castle was a little old and dilapidated, a few towers had partially collapsed, but whatever magic was left was still holding the rest of it up.
"Did Voldemort do this before you got rid of him for good, Dad?"
"No... this was afterwards..."
Harry Potter and his son, Jamie, were two members of a sole, combined nation of wizards from all over the world. Jamie knew the abridged version of what happened.
Halfway through Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked the school. With what seemed like a miracle, Harry somehow found "the power the Dark Lord knows not," and vanquished the evil wizard forever.
It was very ironic that the downfall of the Wizarding World came, not with Voldemort, but those who tried to start anew after his downfall.
The Wizarding World looked forward to a new age of peace and prosperity in the wake of the Second War's end, but some politicians ruined it all.
Cornelius Fudge and his lackeys, just barely hanging on through the war, now were looked upon again with some trust, since the threat they first denied had now passed. At that same time, other workers in the Ministry (lead by Arthur Weasley, who had gained much respect and popularity during the war), were looking into a new field of magical science.
With that project and so many others that marked the beginning of a potential magical renaissance, the Ministry of Magic fell back into its old habits and tried to get control on everything.
However, the populace remembered all of the Ministry's previous mistakes earlier in Fudge's regime, and so when Fudge tried to push, they just pushed back. Eventually, a power struggle broke loose between Fudge and his lackeys, who would do anything to retain power, and those who had had enough of them.
Deep within the Department of Mysteries, a final struggle took place Fudge's last cronies and Mr. Weasley along with other members of the Order of the Phoenix. What they were fighting over was a mysterious new power source... which was caused to go terribly wrong.
For a few minutes, magical wards all over the world failed, briefly revealing the magical world to the mundane one. People panicked everywhere, and the truth was now out: Magic existed.
There was no longer the option of Obliviating Muggles or such: For the few minutes the wards shut down worldwide, Muggles saw the world that had been hidden from them the whole time.
Some Muggles who knew of the magical world (for whatever reason) exposed it for what it was, and fearful and hateful Muggle government officials hired and paid these Muggles to tell whatever they knew (and the Dursleys were no exception).
The majority of the wizarding world (and even small parts of the Muggle world) tried to achieve some sort of peace, but things quickly fell apart as people on both sides tried to get their way (wizards trying to conceal their existence again, and Muggles trying to gain control and dominance).
Riots grew into battles which erupted over the world, resulting in an all-out war. Muggle scientists eventually found ways to counter technology-damaging magic, and soon concentration camps for witches and wizards were set up. Ironically, there was even one skirmish where General Vernon Dursley tried to massacre all the prisoners (a lot of whom the Order of the Phoenix knew) all at once, Harry Potter turned the tables, and so his horrid uncle and all the other people in charge were killed in their own death trap instead.
The war raged on for more than a year, and there were horrendous casualties, mainly on the Muggles' side. Eventually, it came down to nearly a few million wizards (most of them the original world's wizarding population) and just little more than a couple of billion Muggles left. Both sides had stopped fighting, but even to this day, both sides lived in fear of each other, neither going near the other.
Now, the worlds' wizards all united under a single banner across the Americas, and all magical races lived in forced alliances and creatures in special zoos and habitats, while the Muggles gravitated to Eurasia and Africa.
Harry Potter was now married to Ginny Weasley, and they had a few children. He promised his oldest son, Jamie, that he would take him to see the remains of Hogwarts when the time was right.
And now, here they were, at Hogwarts, or what remained of it.
"So, what happened, Dad?" young Jamie asked as they walked up what was once the main drive to the castle.
"Well..." After thinking for a few moments, Harry said, "Some very bad people tried to take control of as much as they could... but they failed, not only losing everything for themselves, but also making things horrible for everyone else." It was true; Fudge himself was one of the first casualties of the war, and to this day, a generation later, his name was used in expressions meaning to make disastrous mistakes and blunders. "They tried taking on the world, and instead, the world crushed them. It's human nature; when some people push, often other people push back. Just like in basic physics, remember? 'For every action, there is an equal yet opposite reaction.'"
"Oh," Jamie said quietly, looking downwards.
They talked as they slowly walked around the circumference of the castle, with Harry occasionally pointing out things like Gryffindor Tower or the Quidditch pitch.
"You know, it's strange..." Harry said quietly. "I always thought I had it bad at a lot of times back in school, between Voldemort and whatever other evil people or forces were interfering with my life. I'll admit that back then, at least things were practically a paradise... compared to /now/. All it took were a few foolish and greedy people to ruin an entire world. Two worlds on the same planet, more specifically. /Everyone/, no matter how unimportant or insignificant they may seem, has a role to play and a duty to their world."
Looking off into the distance, Harry said, "I wonder if people were like this when Atlantis sank..."
"Sorry, what was that, Dad?"
"There is a myth of city called Atlantis... it supposedly existed thousands and thousands of years ago. These people were an intelligent, wealthy society, but as time went on, they became greedy, decadent... finally, their civilization was wiped out as Atlantis sunk into the ocean, never to be seen again."
"Ah," Jamie said quietly, staring off into space as he thought about it.
They were nearly done walking around the school when Jamie asked another question.
"Dad?" Jamie asked.
"If things aren't the way they were anymore, then why does everyone back at the Hidden City keep talking and singing about maybe coming back someday?"
The Hidden City was more or less the entire present-day wizarding nation situated somewhere in North America. Harry and just about everyone he knew lived there, in a place that was more than half underground where the last of the wizards lived.
"Sometimes, Jamie... we must do things, if not for ourselves within our own lifetimes, then for our descendants and the times they will live in. To not preserve our history and what we have is to neglect who we are and where we came from. Who knows... maybe one day, it will happen... maybe even within our own lifetimes, if we're really lucky."
There were a few moments of silence between them as they finished walking around the castle, and Harry wrapped his eldest child in a loving hug.
As they walked back down the drive, they could hear something in the skies overheard.
"They're coming," Jamie whispered frightfully, holding his father close.
Quickly fumbling through his robes, Harry got out the Portkey. "Here, Jamie, touch it!"
A moment later, both Harry Potter and his son Jamie were gone...
...although, hopefully, not for the last time.
A/N: So how was this? -Quillian