Ginny sniffed back tears that were threatening to come streaming down her face. She never expected any of this. It had been only days . . . but it felt like years. She was only sixteen. Sixteen-year-olds weren't meant to deal with things like this. Day after day of the same thing, over and over. It was beginning to feel like this was going to be the rest of her life. Two had gone before today, and now it was time to say goodbye to the last person she would ever want to say good-bye to.
As she approached the sleek, shiny black casket, half open and lined with white satin, with a huge bouquet of white roses on top, she felt a sudden surge of pain. She couldn't do this. Instead, she turned and went to sit at the table she had been sitting at for six years now, and she still had one more to go. The Great Hall was filled with mourning people. The only empty house table was the Slytherins'.
Ginny pulled the black veil down from her hat over her face. She was free to cry. Gathering strength and courage, she stood from her table and approached the raised platform on which the High Table usually sat. Now, it held flowers, the casket, and a large, moving photograph of the face Ginny didn't want to see. But she had to. Tears streaming down her face, but not making a sound, she approached the casket.
His eyes were closed. The long, black lashes were prominent against the pale white skin. An unnatural blush had been applied to his cheeks. His black hair was still unruly. Even in death, it refused to lie down. The lightning bolt scar still marred his otherwise perfect forehead. Ginny stood perfectly still, gloved hands clasped in front of her, tears streaming silently down her face, eyes glued to the man . . . the boy . . . in the casket in front of her.
When I look back on these times,
And the dreams we left behind,
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed to get to have you in my life . . .
Ron brushed the two tears that had begun to fall from underneath his red lashes. He had promised himself that if he came today, he wouldn't cry. Tears weren't of any use to anybody, anyway. He shook himself mentally, straightened his tie, and stepped slowly into the Great Hall. Nearly everyone turned to face him. Many people - Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike - came to him, the boys grasping his hand and shoulder in a friendly way, and the girls enclosing him in a comforting hug. He noticed Cho Chang was there, back a year after graduation, to say good-bye forever to the Boy-Who-Lived. He smiled stiffly at her, the best he could manage. She smiled comfortingly back at him. She had always been very nice.
He turned and saw a small redhead standing in front of the casket. He knew at once who it was, and nearly burst into sympathetic tears on the spot. Swallowing hard and telling himself to suck it up, he approached his sister.
A few long strides later he was at her side. He slipped a comforting arm around her - not unlike what he used to do when he and Ginny were little and escaping from Fred and George. Ginny didn't move. Ron's eyes roved over the body in the casket, dressed in scarlet Quidditch robes with a Chudley Cannons medallion hung around his neck - he had been accepted as Seeker only a few weeks ago. No more would the youngest Seeker in a century fly his world-class Firebolt and seek out the Golden Snitch. His faithful friend was gone.
When I look back on these days,
I'll look and see your face,
You were right there for me.
Hermione could hardly stand the atmosphere in the Great Hall. She had worn plain black robes and obviously hadn't given a thought to her appearance. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face tear streaked, puffy red bags underlined her eyes, and her hair was matted and frizzy. Sympathetic and sorrowful looks came her way. She hadn't left her dormitory since the body was found and everyone's fears were confirmed.
She barely brought herself to look anyone in the eye, and when she did, the person greeting her was . . . Draco Malfoy. She gasped as his silver blonde hair came into view, then saw the redness in his light blue eyes. They glistened, then the moisture was quickly blinked away.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she croaked, too weak to really spit hatred, and ending up with something just short of annoyance.
Draco shifted uneasily, then, suddenly, said, "Dare." He meant that he had been dared to come, but the look on his face said otherwise. Hermione didn't say anything else on the subject.
"Why don't you just get out of my way?" she droned, her voice slow and exhausted. Malfoy didn't move. Then, just as suddenly as he had spoken, his arms reached out and wrapped themselves around her, pulling her into a stiff and awkward hug. Hermione returned it weakly, wanting to push away, but being too spent to do so. He let go and hurried out of the Great Hall, hands brushing over his eyes.
Hermione turned back to the casket. White and black. Black and white. The lines were so blurred now, no one even knew what to think. White for his innocence and purity of spirit. Black for his past that had been stained and tainted. A sob escaped before she could choke it back, echoing off the walls of the nearly silent hall. She stood next to her other best friend and stared down into the casket. A life stolen twice. By the same person. Ron let go of Ginny and pulled Hermione into a warm, comforting hug as she sobbed into his jacket. Ron seemed to nearly be giving enough comfort for two people. Having Ron there nearly lessened the pain of knowing he would never be there again. That the memories were all they had left.
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky,
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life.
I'll keep a part of you with me,
And everywhere I am there you'll be.
And everywhere I am there you'll be . . .
Sirius entered slowly to astonished and bewildered stares from the people around. He had only been declared free a week ago, and many wizarding folk were surprised, to say the least, when they saw him. He didn't do anything. He just let them stare. His eyes were transfixed on the casket in front of him, and the three people - no, children - standing in front of it. A grief-stricken Ginny, a sobbing mess that was Hermione, and the rock, the strong one, Ron. He wasn't enough, but at least he was there. Sirius felt that if he had to be strong, it would be too much.
He reached the casket in no time, seeing the pale, gaunt face of his godson lying lifeless in the coffin. It would have been enough to make any man break down. Sirius hit his knees, face in his hands, shaking and howling with sobs.
"It's all my fault!" he said. "I should have done more to protect him! It was my job!" He lifted his face skywards and yelled, "I'm sorry, James! I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'm sorry I was a failure!" He bent his head back down and slammed his fists on the floor. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at him. He didn't notice.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the boy, "I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I spent your whole life in Azkaban and on the run. I'm sorry you never had a real family. I'm sorry everything that happened to you was my fault. I shouldn't have made Peter the secret-keeper. I shouldn't have gone after him like that, and I shouldn't have ever left you alone. You were the reason I did what I did. You were my reason for living. You gave me everything I ever wanted. I loved you like a son, you know that? I loved you like a SON!" He screamed the last sentence to the entire Great Hall. He buried his face in his hands again. "You gave me strength. You gave me the will to go on."
When you showed me how it feels,
To feel the sky within my reach.
And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me . . .
Remus Lupin entered quietly, to no real reaction of any sort. It was as if he wasn't even there. The full moon had been two weeks ago, and he was still looking weak. But he was also looking very wounded and pained. His eyes - the last thing that looked young about him - were clouded with sadness and grief. He joined his friend in front of the casket. He put his hand on his back to comfort him.
"It isn't your fault, Sirius," he said quietly, "You had no way of knowing any of this was going to happen." Sirius, who would have argued normally, simply sobbed still, his tears nearly spent. Remus left his hand there and continued to speak.
"I never . . ." he choked, gulped, then spoke again. "I never would have made it this far without you. He may have been James's son, but he was yours . . . in spirit. He loved you, Sirius, I know he did. And thanks to you, he made it out of that house when he was a baby. And without him, I never would have made it this far. He's not really gone, Padfoot."
Your love made me make it through,
Oh, I owe so much to you,
You were right there for me.
Albus Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall with a few askance looks from his students. He walked directly to the growing gathering of people in front of the casket and took his place beside Hermione, who was still sobbing into Ron. He nodded to Ron, touched Hermione on the shoulder, then looked to the body in the casket. This was a personal blow. He loved each and every one of his students, but this one had been special. He had been a better person all the way around than he had known in a long time. He had been . . . a great wizard. Dumbledore took a small object from his robe and placed it in the coffin next to his medallion. It was a small Gryffindor lion.
"A true Gryffindor," he said. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky,
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life.
I'll keep a part of you with me,
And everywhere I am there you'll be . . .
Hermione took an object from her robes as well. She held it to her heart for a moment, then said, "I thought you should take this with you. That way you'll always . . . fly with the Cannons." It was the book, Flying with the Cannons. She placed it next to him in the casket. "You were the light at the end of my tunnel."
'Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength . . .
Ron withdrew something from his robes. He looked at it a moment then said, "You won't be around for Christmas this year, so Mum made you yours early." He tucked the Weasley sweater next to his friend and the book. "Thank you, my friend."
And I wanna thank you now for all the ways . . .
Sirius picked himself up off the floor and took out a piece of parchment. "So you can always know what's happening at Hogwarts," he managed to choke. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said, tapping the parchment. The Marauder's Map appeared. Sirius laid it in the casket softly, and said, "This isn't good-bye."
You were right there for me . . .
Remus placed the album that Hagrid had given the boy his first year beside him. "You're with them now," he said, "But you might want this later."
You were right there for me . . .
Ginny removed something from her black clutch purse. It was a single, short-stemmed red rose. She put it to her lips and whispered, "In life, you were always there for me. Now, in death, it's my turn to be there for you. I love you." She placed the rose on his chest. "Always."
Always . . .
The six stood and looked at the body in the casket for a moment, then one by one then left. Dumbledore returned to his study, tears leaking slowly down into his beard.
In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky . . .
Sirius followed, unable to stand being there any longer. He went to his house in London, where he and his godson would have lived if things had been different.
In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life . . .
Remus lingered only a little while longer, returning to his home with sad thoughts and happy memories.
I'll keep a part of you with me . . .
Ron kissed Hermione's last tears away before returning to the Gryffindor common room, immersing himself in a one-man game of chess.
And everywhere I am there you'll be . . .
Hermione kissed her fingers and reached them out to the boy in the casket. She turned slowly and followed Ron. They would later seek solace in each other, and end up in love, never forgetting their friend.
And everywhere I am there you'll be . . .
Ginny stared at her lost love for a longer time than anyone else. She finally smiled and whispered, "I'll always remember you." She then returned to her table as the whole hall lifted their glasses and said in hushed voices, "To Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived . . ."
There you'll be . . . .
