The snowy scene matches so exactly to that of last year. The flakes fall gently from the sky, caressing his face and decorating his hair with a premature white. Yet the scene is different, somehow. He is on his own this time, and there is something less hurried in his walk - less secretive, perhaps. His trails and footsteps are there for all to see, because he no longer has to hide.
The church and its companion loom quietly ahead of him, and although he never looks up, it is clear that he is headed there. As he reaches it, his footsteps become quicker, but purposeful. This time, he knows where he is going; knows exactly what he is looking for.
The graves are silent, as they always are, but they are beautiful, despite the eeriness of it all. They are unchanged from the previous year, still clear, with the epitaph still shining like a beacon. This year, he has the advantage of hindsight, experience and infinitely more knowledge, so it does not shock him, and he can see the truth of it.
The last enemy that shall be defeated is death.
He understands, now, why this is so, and can identify far more with the statement than he ever could before. With so many lost, and yet so much gained, he sees the world with a new clarity. This time, he has been able to grieve, and to mourn, and, much later, to accept the losses. In a twisted way, he has been able to accept himself.
He crouches by the graves for a long while, until his entire body is numb. Like the graves, he holds his silence - it seems wrong, somehow, to interrupt a fragile peace such as this. Eventually, with dawn breaking distantly over the horizon, he knows that it is time to move, and presently, he does.
The ghost of Christmas past has finally been laid to rest.
A.N. A brief oneshot of Harry, one year after he visits Godric's Hollow. Review, pretty please?