The one thing i will always remember about that night was how beautiful it was.

The stars were the only thing in the sky, the breeze blew hard but it was so warm it felt soft. Everything seemed to be ready to say goodbye to this semester at Hogwarts. The grass was turning green, the giant squid was blowing bubbles in the lake, and students chatted animatedly.

Finals were over. We were in the clear.

The Final Task was that last big deal before summer holiday.

I sat down with Fred, George, and Lee in the stands.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Lee remarked, referring to the enormous conjured maze in which the Final Task would be held.

"Wicked." I grinned, hugging my robes a bit more tightly as the breeze began to cool.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Ludo Bagman's voice echoed over the stands like running water, silencing the excited hum of the students. "The third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand..."

Bagman bent down to consult a piece of parchment.

Fred elbowed me.

"What?"

His freckled head moved close to my ear. His breath tickled my ear when he spoke,

"Give Potter a cheer, won't you?"

I gave him a look, then snootily polished my Cedric Diggory pin on the sleeve of my robes.

Fred smirked at the pin. "I realize you are quite distracted with Diggory's horribly disfigured face, but Potter did some talking with George and I last night."

"About?"

"About if he wins."

"Yeah?"

Fred's smirk turned into a wonderfully mischevious grin.

He was about to tell me something clearly irresponsible in a delightful way, when someone scrambled clumsily onto the seat to my left.

"Jill!" I squealed as she stood unceremoniously on my foot.

"Sorry!" she huffed as she flopped down beside me.

"Mmmm" I grumbled, turning back to Fred.

He whispered into my ear, almost afraid to speak it out loud it was so absurd: "He'd loan us the prize money to start a joke shop."

A JOKE SHOP?!

I looked at Fred quizzically.

"Thats like...A dream." I muttered incoherently.

But Fred didn't hear me. He was on his feet hooting and cheering as Diggory and Potter were enveloped into the maze.

--

Would you take a look at this place?

The eneven floorboards that begged to be tripped over.

The warm golden walls that echoed laughter through them.

The huge crooked windows that looked out upon Diagon Alley.

And it was ours.

The Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

I sat down in the middle of the floor, cross legged.

The walls, though bare for now, would soon be raucous and loud with all of our wonderful inventions.

I looked around me, and tried to imagine the shop filled with the bustle of customers.

For a few seconds, I could hear the pop of fireworks, the shrieks of suprise, and the boundless laughter.

But that lasted only a few seconds, before once again I could hear the screaming.

The gnawing, hollow, agonized screaming.

The sound of a father losing his only son.

I popped my eyes open as wide as they'd go. If I shut them now, I'd have to see it all again, replayed in my minds eye... Cedric Diggory's stiff corpse sprawled out on the grass. McGonnagal's face frozen in horror. The way Cho's face crumpled like a piece of paper.

My eyes flew around the room, grazing the golden walls and the cheery windows, the quiet sunshine reflecting off the floating dust.

I couldn't stop to think. I didn't want to see it again.

I had to be here. In today, where there was no hurt and no fear and no loss.

In here, in the shop, with hope and oppurtunities.

I hugged my arms close to me and rocked slowly back and forth.

But what good was it?

The hope?

You Know Who is back. From the minute I heard it, I knew that this was the beginning of the end.

This is the tip of the hurt. He's just getting started.

And not all of us would make it out alive.

Against my better judgement, I squeezed my eyes shut to barricade the tears I knew were coming.

I didn't want to see the golden walls. The warm sunshine.

It was mocking us.

And why shouldn't it?

Why should I be allowed to sit here, wishing blindly for some hope, when people are going to die?

Why should we buy a jokeshop with the money we stole from a dead man?

I felt my stomache lurch with nausea.

Suddenly the walls, floorboards and windows seemed so wrong.

So offensive.

Sure, we had offered Mr. Diggory the money, but if it had gone to Diggory like it should've, would he have wanted this?

He died trying to get the winnings we'd just forked over for this shop.

This stupid, smiling, shop.

For once, the joke was on us.

A sick, revolting joke.

I stood in an uncharacteristically graceful movement, trying to ignore those happy walls.

I wanted to break them. I wanted them to stop smiling at me. I wanted them to look as hopeless as I felt.

With all of the anger, fear, and nausea I felt, I made a fist with my right hand and slammed into the grinning wall.

The wave of pain that washed over my knuckles and into my wrist made me yelp and swing around like a baby.

That made me even MORE upset.

I wasn't ready for this kind of a war. For this kind of fear.

I stopped spinning and ran out the front door, pushing past Fred and making him drop the moving box he was carrying.

"Sarah!" He called out after me.

But I was already halfway down the street.

I was never setting foot in that shop again.