For a summer's afternoon, the backyard of The Burrow had never looked so miserable. The usually lighthearted place now looked like the colour had been washed from the world. Black drapes hung gloomily from the canopy underneath the oak tree near the broom shed, while small floating lights lit the shadowy area under it and the space around them. The only colour in the dismal scene came from the small bunches of flowers tied to the poles. Obviously Mrs Weasley's attempt to make the melancholy scene more cheerful, Harry thought. But it was impossible for this day to be anything but desolate.
Harry felt numb. He stared at the coffin at the end of the canopy. On it rested a picture. Fred's mischievous grin radiated out from it. It was Harry's fault. He knew that. Everything was his fault. If he'd realised sooner and trusted Dumbledore, Fred would still be alive. Tonks and Lupin, Sirius and Dobby, Dumbledore and Mad Eye, Snape and Hedwig and everyone else would still be alive.
Harry watched as small groups of people milled around the perfect rows of silver seats that were neatly placed under the canopy. He saw George, sitting in the front, silent tears streaming down his face as he started blankly at the coffin in front of him. The guilt hit him hard again, like a slap to the face.
He saw Ginny slowly walk towards George and sit beside him, hugging him and resting her head on his shoulder. Harry moved his eyes from Ginny to the rest of the Weasley family. Every member was present, Charlie, Bill, Percy, Ron, Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, George, Ginny and even Fred.
Mr and Mrs Weasley were sitting at the end of the row. Mrs Weasley was crying, while her husband comforted her, stony faced. Each of them had someone. Bill was standing with Fleur beside his parents, Ginny was with George, and Ron had Hermione. Charlie, however, was sitting alone in the second row, staring at his scarred hands. Harry moved to sit down next to him.
Charlie glanced up as Harry sat down, but quickly went back to staring at his hands. They sat for about a minute before Harry broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," he stated simply.
Charlie turned his head towards Harry.
"What for?" Charlie asked, frowning.
"For this. I could have stopped this from happening." The guilt was evident in his voice.
"Harry, none of this is your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything," Charlie replied firmly, "Fred chose to fight. So did everyone else. You didn't force them into anything. They knew the risks."
Harry knew that Charlie could see the incredulous look on his face, but he had to apologise.
"But it IS my fault. If I had just given myself up earlier none of this would have happened." Harry exclaimed, distressed.
"If you had given yourself up earlier Voldemort would still be here!" Charlie replied.
Harry lowered his head into his hands as he saw Ginny appear in his line of sight. He felt her sit down next to him and wrap her arms around him.
"Tell him it's not his fault, Ginny," Charlie appealed to his sister. Ginny's head whipped around so she was looking at Harry, concern in her eyes.
"Harry, you need to stop blaming yourself for all of this," she said dejectedly, as Harry looked back up at her.
"Ginny, you don't understa-" Harry started, before Mrs Weasley cut in from her position a couple of metres away.
"Harry Potter," she announced sternly, "you will stop blaming yourself this instant."
"Mrs Weasley-" Mr Weasley cut him off this time.
"You saved all of us Harry." He said as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shrugged it off.
"But-"
"Harry you were the hero. You stopped You-Know-Who." Bill explained, adamant.
"I just wish people would stop viewing me like that." Harry responded, frustrated.
"It's the truth though!" Hermione suddenly entered the conversation.
"But so many people died. Bill was bitten by a werewolf, for Merlin's sake!" Harry replied.
"Does that matter?" Bill asked, "I'm fine now, aren't I?"
"Bloody hell Harry, listen to them!" Ron half-shouted at him.
"LISTEN TO ME!" Harry yelled, "You should all hate me. Fred died because of me. If you had never accepted me you would all still be happy. It's all my fault."
George had been staring at the coffin through all of this, but hearing Harry, he stood up. Everyone went silent as he walked towards the group.
"No one hates you Harry. Without you, none of us would be alive. Fred…" George paused, taking in a shaky breath, "Fred died a hero. He's probably playing pranks with the Marauders." He managed a slight chuckle.
Harry sighed. He couldn't fight George. Not today.
"At least let me apologise," he stated after a moment.
"Yeah, you can apologise," said George, nudging Ginny off the seat and plunked down beside Harry, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to accept it. Now I think it's time we honour Fred. He deserves it."
Harry smiled in agreement. The group watched as George walked over to the coffin and placed his hand on it. It rose into the air and the group followed it as it floated to Fred's final resting place.
A stone rose from the ground, and before it there was a vast hole. George stopped just before it and the coffin lowered itself into the space.
Harry was the first to raise his wand. And the others followed soon after. Mr Weasley flicked his wand and the dirt crashed down onto the coffin.
"I'm not the only hero. Fred's a hero too. He made the ultimate sacrifice and without his choice to fight, we may not have won," Harry started, "Without him, more people may have died. Without him, I wouldn't be alive. Fred, you were a hero and always will be a hero."
The group kept their wands raised as words carved themselves into the stone. The final words Fred would know in this world.
"Mischief Managed."
