Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Why We Fight ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the other characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I in no way claim ownership of any rights to the Harry Potter Universe. I do not own them, I am not making any money from them. I offer a thank you to both parties for allowing me to have some fun with them in my spare time.

A/N: I have borrowed the title of this one-shot from an episode of the HBO mini-series Band of Brothers. I feel as though it does a good job of explaining Anthony's actions and also hearkens back to that episode from the series.

Please review when you get a moment! It is greatly appreciated, and helps me to get a better understanding of how I'm doing with my writing! Thanks!

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

*BOOM!*

A giant explosion occurred overhead, sending bits of stone flying and falling everywhere, along with creating a giant cloud of dust. Obviously another spell had gone off course, likely deflected by one of the multiple fighters currently defending Hogwarts from the Death Eater invasion.

Anthony Goldstein remained crouched behind the large oak table that he was currently using as cover from the multiple spells being launched at people as umpteen duels took place in the Great Hall. He pulled his head down into his knees, covering it with his arms as he tried to protect himself from the falling debris and stone. He felt several pinpricks in his arms, and realized that he'd likely been hit by several shards of stone.

He couldn't help the cough that escaped his lungs as the dust continued to fall and settled around him. Anthony ignored the slight warm stickiness that he felt in his arms, as the damage was not that bad. Realizing that the worst of the debris had already fallen, he finally gathered up the courage to uncurl himself from a ball on the floor and peer over the edge of the table, which had been knocked over onto its side early in the battle.

Multiple defenders and Death Eaters were currently locked in duels all over the hall of the grand room, which now bore scorch marks and holes on the previously clean stone surfaces that had made up the floors, walls and yes, even the ceiling. Spellfire of every type and color roared around the room as spells were deflected every which way.

Several bodies littered the floor in random places (along with the broken remains of much of the furniture), and while Anthony could tell that the defenders were doing their best to avoid stepping on the casualties as they dueled, the Death Eaters were not offering the newly-departed the same courtesy. One Death Eater let out an "Oof!" as his leg hit something unexpected. Anthony saw the head of a classmate turn to face him as a result of the kick that the Death Eater had given it by accident. Staring at him blankly, eyes open and unmoving, was the face of Colin Creevey.

Anthony immediately turned around, and sat down facing the wall, with his back to the table and dropped his wand onto the floor next to him. He couldn't help the tears that escaped his eyes. He may not have known Creevey all that well, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel the loss. He knew that Creevey was a year younger than himself. Anthony remembered Creevey's sorting into Gryffindor only six years earlier. If Creevey hadn't survived this, what chance did he have?

What in the name of hell was he doing here? He was a Ravenclaw! He was supposed to be an academic, not a fighter! That was why he'd been sorted into Ravenclaw in the first place, wasn't it? Not only that, but he'd been made a prefect for Ravenclaw! If nothing else, that should show how he exemplified the Ravenclaw personality traits.

Yeah, so he'd been a member of the D.A. in his fifth year, but only because it was the only way that he could actually learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. Umbridge certainly hadn't been teaching it after all. He hadn't been one of those to march off last year to the fight at the Observation Tower that had led to the Headmaster's death. Hell, he'd only joined the D.A. resistance this year because the Carrows had been cruel and unrelenting in their attacks against anyone not from a pure-blood family, and unfortunately for him, he wasn't.

His muggle father had gotten engaged to his mother before finding out that she was a witch. She had broken things to him gently before they'd married, but by that point, it hadn't mattered. His father was in love with his mother, and that had been the end of that subject.

Still, Anthony had been growing increasingly concerned for his own safety ever since the new government headed indirectly by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had come to power. No, he hadn't been banished from Hogwarts as the muggle-borns had been, but Anthony feared that it might just be a matter of time before he was on the chopping block.

He knew something about that. If his father had ensured anything about his upbringing, it was that Anthony had known where he'd come from. Anthony had been raised in the Jewish faith from a young age, something passed down from his father's family to him. His mother had even converted to Judaism before marrying his father. Apparently, she figured that since her children would undoubtedly be raised as a wizard in the traditions of her family, the least she could do would be to allow them to share in the heritage and traditions from their father's side as well.

Thus, Anthony had grown up knowing that much of his father's family had been living in Germany prior to the Second World War and the rise of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party. He'd been told countless times that many of them had ignored the warning signs for too long and refused to leave. Fortunately, for Anthony, his father's parents had heeded the warnings and left Germany for England from the very beginning.

In ever increasingly harsh measures, the remainder of his family had been singled out because of their Jewish faith and their bloodline. They were dehumanized over time by Nazi propaganda. First they were barred from public places and schools, much as the muggle-borns had been. Then they were limited in where they could live, what jobs they could hold, how much money they could make, and eventually, how much in terms of rations they were allotted. Over time, all of these things had decreased, eventually getting to the point where the Nazis had left his family with no way to continue surviving. As a final insult, they had then sped up the process by taking his family to a death camp, where they'd been executed. All because of who they were, what family and faith they had been born into.

Anthony hadn't realized when the tears had stopped falling. He did, however, realize the anger he felt form inside of him when it occurred to him that he was breaking a promise that he'd made to himself and his father a long time ago.

Never again, he'd promised. Never again would a force be allowed to rise that claimed supremacy over another and wanted the destruction of that other simply because of bloodline or "race." It didn't matter that it was purebloods claiming supremacy over muggle-borns instead of "Aryans" over "Jews." The point was that what was actually going on was, in the end, the same thing. This was a battle of good versus evil, plain and simple.

It didn't matter that he was a Ravenclaw instead of a Gryffindor. An academic or not, Anthony had promised that he would not sit idly by and allow it to happen again to him, or to anyone else. And he wouldn't.

Anthony sat up, grabbed his wand tightly in his hand, and turned himself around once more, lifting his head high enough just to see over the edge of the table. This time, however, he was looking for the best place for himself to become involved in the fight; where he could be of the most help.

Seeing a Death Eater preparing to fire a spell at Harry Potter's back, he aimed his wand and fired off a Petrificus Totalus. The spell caught the Death Eater square in the chest as Anthony finally rose to his feet from behind the table.

Harry heard the thud of the body landing behind him and turned around to see the hatred in the petrified Death Eater's eyes directed at him. Looking around for the petrification's caster, he finally caught sight of Anthony and sent him a nod of thanks.

Anthony nodded back in acknowledgement and began looking for other places to help. He no longer feared for himself. He had a reason to fight.

"Reducto!"

A/N #2: Usually I don't write any religion into my fanfiction. It's too controversial and too divisive for my tastes. I don't like reading fanfiction with much religion in it either. That's not to say that I'm overly religious or secular either. I just think that in general there is a time and place for such things. In this case, though, I could not ignore the plot bunny running around my head. I hope you all enjoy it. For the record I have been working on a much longer HP fanfiction, but I don't want to start posting until it's complete (right now it's just over 200,000 words in length), because I hate when authors abandon stories, and I don't want to risk that happening to mine.