The Turn of the Tide

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.

Summary: Harry, in a rare moment of solitude, says goodbye to his fallen friends. A tribute to those who died in the second war.

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A gentle gust of early summer breeze blew up over the cliff face as a lone figure with messy black hair and startling green eyes stared out over the depths of grey sea, taking in the white crests of the waves and the sprays of water being thrown into the salty air. No doubt at home, Bill and Fleur would probably be delighted to see him, but a need to be alone with his thoughts prevented him from going and knocking on the oak front door of Shell Cottage which stood not far away.

Harry had barely spoken to any of the Weasleys since they had gathered in the garden of the Burrow to pay their last respects to their lost brother, who had been buried with other late members of the family at the graveyard in Ottery St Catchpole. Crowds of people had attended the beautiful service which had taken place afterwards; so many that there had not been enough chairs to seat everyone. Molly had insisted that Harry sit in the front row with the rest of the family and Hermione, and Harry, feeling it would be incredible selfish to protest, had done his best to hide the feeling that he did not deserve that place of honour, not when he felt partly responsible for the deaths of all those who had perished in the final battle. It was a feeling that he constantly struggled with, one that Hermione would no doubt term as "survivor's guilt" and Ron would call "being stupid". Whatever its name, it was an emotion which Harry determinedly repressed, because the last thing his friends needed was to have to deal with his guilt on top of everything else.

George's face had been pale and shadowed with sorrow as he had spoken about his twin, but his mouth forced into a smile as he relived some of their best moments.

My brother was a joker, as most of you know. I would say our greatest achievement to date was bewitching Percy's bed at Hogwarts so that it sung him a lullaby every night without fail. Six months, it took him, to figure out the counter spell, during which half the Gryffindor dormitories had to endure the melodious tones of "sleep little Percy," echoing through the tower every night!

Three seats along from Harry, Molly Weasley buried her face in her hands with loud sobs as Percy, his face also crumpled with grief, squeezed her hand very tightly. Next to him, Ginny's face was a sea of tears. Harry reached out his own hand just enough to let her know that it was there if she wanted to take it, and as he felt the smaller fingers clasp around his own and hold on tightly his own eyes prickled with deep sadness.

Fred was my brother, my business partner and my best friend. We shared everything and we knew each other better than anyone else, and it is this that permits me to say that if he could talk to us right now he would tell us all very candidly to get a grip, that You-Know-Who is dead and finished and that we should all be getting smashed on Firewhisky, not sitting around in our mourning robes crying our eyes out.

Mrs Weasley wept all the harder, and the pain became more evident in George's eyes as struggled to keep the broad smile fixed on his face.

He would have said that, not because he was heartless, nor because he didn't understand or believe in our grief, but because what Fred wanted, more than anything, was for everyone he loved to be happy. Fred understood other people more than you might have thought; he knew when they were sad or frightened or upset and most importantly of all he knew how to cheer them up. He was the middle born of our family, and perhaps, although we may not have noticed it until now, the centre of our happiness. We miss him more with every passing day, and rebuilding our lives will be one hundred times harder without Fred here to make us laugh as we do so. Yet we will do it, in his honour, because he would have wanted us to live every moment with joy at having known and loved him, not remain in constant grief at his passing which was for a good and noble cause.

George's smile had barely wavered throughout the whole day, but they had all known that behind the brave face he was feeling the loss of his twin more than any of them. Harry had admired him for putting on such a cheerful face in memory of his brother, but it wasn't until three days later, during another heart wrenching ceremony, that he'd realized just how hard it was to control the emotion of grief while speaking in such depth about someone who had meant so much.

o o o o o

For those people who thought that being a werewolf meant that Remus Lupin wasn't worth knowing, it is their loss. Remus proved to all of us, the ones who truly knew and loved him, that the most important thing in life is not what we are, but what we choose to make of ourselves, and what he chose to make himself was a kind and honest man, a great teacher and mentor, and most importantly a deeply caring friend who always made the right decision, whatever hesitations may have at times stood in his way.

Harry knew that the angry words that had passed between them so long ago had been both forgotten and forgiven, without the need of any spoken apology, and he was glad. But he wished he could have had more of a chance to show Lupin that he had never really thought the man a coward, and that his harsh words had been said in a flash of anger simply to shock the werewolf into taking what he already knew deep down was the right path.

Remus was best friends with my father and godfather at school, and I once heard him say that his years at Hogwarts were the best days of his life. But I honestly don't think anything could have made him happier than he was on the day his son was born. Like my Dad, Remus died fighting for his wife and child. His son, like me, was fortunate enough to have two parents who loved him enough to give up their lives for him. Unlike me, however, Teddy Lupin will not remain ignorant of this sacrifice.

Harry was quite determined of this. The resolve to make sure that their lives and deaths would never be forgotten, least of all by their own son, had been set the second he had seen his two friends lying peacefully side by side under the starry ceiling of the great hall.

I don't need to have seen Remus with Teddy to know that he would have made an amazing father, because in the time that I knew him he became almost like a father to me. I don't think I will ever be able to repay him for that, but I can try by ensuring that his son knows exactly who his parents were, how they died, and for what cause; that they walked into battle with their heads held high, all the while knowing what the cost might be, because it was only by doing that that the world would become a safer and happier place for their son to grow up in.

Harry couldn't have said another word even if he had felt that more things need to be said. He somehow made his way back to his seat, sat down and watched as the slim figure he knew so well took his place in front of the crowd of people and spoke to them with maturity and confidence.

I've actually known Tonks since I was two years old, although I don't remember our first meeting. She was friends with my brother Charlie at school and apparently came within an inch of running me over with her luggage trolley when I was waiting with mum to meet him off the Hogwarts Express after their first year. I'm sure my mum gave her an earful at the time, but she didn't apologize to me personally until I met her again three years ago!

There was a ripple of sad laughter, as Molly Weasley gazed proudly at her daughter, a sad smile spreading over her face.

Tonks was a great witch, a determined fighter and an incredibly loyal friend. She was one of the best Aurors at the ministry, but she was also the youngest and most junior. Because of this, she understood the importance of wanting to be treated as an adult, not as some little kid.

Harry stared up at her torn between feelings of sadness and guilt. It wasn't a deliberate snipe at him, he knew that. Ginny's face held an expression of pure dedication to the friend they had loved and lost, and yet her words stung nevertheless. He knew, had always known, how much Ginny resented being left out of his plans, how much she had wanted to come with him, Ron and Hermione on their quest. But looking at her standing proudly at the front of the ceremony, her bright red hair gleaming in the sun and her brown eyes filled with warmth and love for her friend, he did not for a second regret his refusal to let her join them. He hoped that Ginny would one day understand that it wasn't because he thought she was weak, but quite simply because if anything had happened to her he would not have been able to live with himself; much less carry out the mission that he alone had the capacity to complete.

Tonks was great at her job, but she was never too busy to have a good time and she soon became one of my best friends. She taught me tricks I'd never have thought of and jinxes I didn't even know existed, and I grew up with six older brothers! She always stuck up for me and a couple of times she even disguised herself as me when I wasn't where I should have been, so that I wouldn't get into trouble with Mum.

Here Ginny shot a sheepish look at her mother, but the fiercely proud expression on Molly Weasley's face did not waver for a second.

Tonks told me when she first fell in love with Lupin, and even when I was at school she wrote to me to tell me how things were going and to ask for my advice. I was so pleased to be one of the few people she trusted with those secret feelings, and so happy that I had found someone so kind and friendly to confide in. I wouldn't exchange my brothers for anything in the world, but Tonks was and always will be the sister I never had and always wanted.

Harry felt his guilt intensify. He had known that Ginny and Tonks were friends, but he never would have guessed that they were that close, or that losing her would be like losing a second member of her family. So wrapped up in his task, essential though it had been, it seemed that he had let a lot of other important things pass him by.

Tonks told me that being with Remus had made her happier than she'd ever been in her life, and that, for me, is the silver lining; that at least they are still together, having left this world in the knowledge that their son would be in good hands. When Teddy was born, Tonks asked me to be his Godmother, and like Harry I will make sure that he knows what fantastic people his parents were, and that even if they could have known their outcome in the battle before they entered it, it would not have altered their actions in the slightest. He will know that they will watch over him his whole life and I have no doubt that he will make them proud. Because with parents like his, it would be impossible for him not to.

Ginny, breathing heavily with deep emotion, came and took her seat next to Harry, who pulled her gently towards him and kissed her on the forehead. The tiniest of gestures, he knew, but one that he hoped would convey at that moment just how much she meant to him, just how sorry he was that he had had to shut her out of his life for a while, and just how much he meant to make it up to her in the hopefully peaceful times that lay ahead of them.

o o o o o

Just a week later, Harry had felt a rather different emotion in his chest as he got up in front of a much smaller crowd of somber looking witches and wizards and addressed them quietly.

This man was one of the true heroes of this war. I am not going to pretend that we were friends, or indeed that we ever felt anything other than hatred for one another, but as someone who carried many heavy burdens yet never once let them stop him from doing what he had to do, Severus Snape deserves our respects as much as anyone else does.

Harry could never quite bring himself to feel guilty about the seven years of solid hatred that he had felt for Snape, even though the sentiment had disappeared the second he'd come out of the pensieve in Dumbledore's study during the final battle. After all, Snape had despised him equally, and if the man were still alive it was hardly likely that he would have been able to forget a lifetime of grudges and ill feeling. But Snape had suffered his whole life because of one foolish error, and now, the last battle having at last presented him with the truth and the final victory shedding a new light on so many matters, Harry conceded that Snape had not deserved the suffering he had been forced to endure for most of his life.

We all make mistakes; a lot of which are forgiven and forgotten, but Severus Snape made one that haunted him to his death. Most of us survived this war because we loved, and because the love we received in return reminded us what we stood to lose and gave us the strength we needed to fight to the end.

How far would he himself have been able to go without the love and support and help that had been given to him so willingly on every single step of his journey? How would he have prevented himself from falling at the first hurdle if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's calm wisdom? How would he have kept his resolve to walk straight to his own death without his parents, Sirius and Lupin watching over him with pride and love and devotion? How would he still be alive without his best friends? Without the clever, compassionate Hermione by his side, he would have died in Godric's hollow like his parents. Without Ron's loyal companionship his body would be lying at the bottom of a frozen lake. Without Ginny – well, he doubted he'd have had the strength to go on at all.

Severus Snape did not receive any of the love and support that most of us needed to stay strong and he was trusted by few. I admit that I once called Snape a coward, and I regret it, because I have come to realize that of all the difficult tasks that were undertaken bravely and wholeheartedly throughout this war, Snape's role required the most courage of all; that of the spy who never let his loyalties waver, even when all he received in return was hatred and doubt, and who fought to the bitter end, all because of a childhood love which would never be returned.

The sight of the silver doe bursting out of the tip of his wand would stay etched in Harry's mind forever, as would Ron's words when he had learnt of Snape's feelings. Just think! Snape could have been your father. Merlin, can you imagine the horror!

When Ron had heard that Harry wanted to honour Snape's memory by saying a few words, he had been quite horrified and had stated so in his usual tactless way. Mate, Snape hated us, you think if it was the other way round he'd be saying words in your honour?

Hermione, however, understanding how much the revelation had affected Harry, and how much it had influenced the newfound respect that he now felt for his old potions master, had told Ron very bluntly to shut up, and Harry had been mollified when Ron had given him a dignified apology just before the service. You're right, of course, about Snape being a hero. I do get why you, why we, need to do it, and I support that completely. It's just harder to pay respects to someone who never liked us, you know.

Harry had been touched by the words, even though they had a strong hint of Hermione's influence to them. He wasn't sure that Ron would ever truly comprehend his reason for wanting to say a proper goodbye to Snape. But then, Ron had not witnessed firsthand the scenes in the pensieve, did not understand that although Harry did not feel overwhelming sense of grief that he had for Fred, Remus and Tonks, he still felt an acute need to honour the man who had been dispensed with so readily in spite of doing so much; who, even at his moment of death, had ensured that the knowledge to kill his enemy was passed on, so that the woman he had loved his whole life would be avenged.

I believe that fighting out of love is the true sign of good in a person, whatever other flaws may have once been present in their character. I once hated this man, but he will never lose the respect and admiration which I now hold for his courage, for his strength, even for the love he felt for my own mother, and most of all for playing his part in this battle to the final second of his life.

o o o o o

Snape's ceremony, which had taken place that morning, had been the last official goodbye and it should have been a relief to have them over with. Harry had heard so many people say that a proper goodbye was the start of the healing process, the first step to recovery. But far from feeling healed, he felt like a gaping hole was been wrenched open inside of him. A desperate desire to have a quiet place to think had brought him to the cliff that afternoon; to the place where another great friend lay in peace. As he approached the stone with its lopsided engraving, he bent down to tear a handful of primroses out of the earth and scattered them over the grave.

You were the first to tell me that terrible things were going to happen Dobby. I don't think any of us could have realized just how terrible they would turn out to be.

After standing motionless for several moments, Harry turned away again and began to walk down to the shore. He had been so calm until then. Through every memorial he had sat quietly, his head bowed in shared grief. Through the speeches, the necessary testimonies, the scouring of Hogwarts, the rebuilding of the ministry, he had somehow forced himself through every action that had needed his input and help. His part in the war had ended, but his part in the rebuilding of lives had only just begun, and he had held every emotion inside because other people needed him, just as they had before, to act as a leader, a symbol of continued hope. And he had done so without resentment or complaint because he had owed it to those people who had not let their fear turn them against him, but who had kept fighting, no matter how hard the loss, to buy him the time he needed to finish his task.

But now, alone, as he felt the stones and sand of the beach crunch under his feet, and saw a great wave build and break against a rock, Harry felt a great surge of emotion searing through his heart, his mind, his soul; a buildup of pain that became so unbearable that all he wanted to do was scream at the top of his lungs.

None of the words he had spoken, so necessary to bring solace to others, had released his own true feelings of sorrow and guilt. His goodbyes had been said without being felt, and it was this that let the grief continue to gnaw away at his heart. With raw emotion pounding through his veins, he picked up a rock from the sand and hurled it into the water, and then another, then another, not caring how heavy or now much the rough surface of the stones scraped against his hand. He kept going until he began to feel the smallest of reliefs with every throw; every scratch to his hand was a symbol of gratitude to those who had stood by him; every splash felt like his own personal farewell to the fallen heroes, to the people who had given their lives so bravely for the greater good.

To the first casualty of the second war, the hansom Hufflepuff hero, who would never have set foot in that terrible graveyard if it hadn't been for him.

The most unjust thing about life is the way it ends

To the playful dog, who had loved him for thirteen years of his life without him knowing it, and his love for whom had been used so cruelly against him as a weapon; the man who had shown him, albeit briefly, what it was like to have a proper family.

To live in the hearts of those we love is never to die

To his guiding light, who had been leading him all the way, even when he hadn't known it and when the fury and frustration of feeling abandoned had caused him to hate the great old wizard.

To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure

To his faithful friend, his loyal messenger, his first companion when he'd entered the unknown world of magic, to whom he had never properly said farewell.

It is a sweet thing, friendship, a dear balm,
A happy and auspicious bird of calm

To the watchful guard, who he had honestly believed was indestructible; whose life and death had reminded him of the need for constant vigilance, and proved that nothing and no one could be eternally safe.

Who will guard the guards themselves?

To his smallest savior, who, promise or no promise, could now never try and save his life again.

Freedom is the oxygen of the soul

To the nervous rodent that had lost his way and never managed to find it again, so blinded by fear and panic; whose betrayal he would never be able to forget, but hoped one day to be able to forgive.

That which is unpardoned in life may be forgiven in death

To the determined little lion, who should have lived to capture a lifetime of great moments on camera.

Each happiness of yesterday is a memory for tomorrow

To the loved brother, the centre of his favorite family, who had smiled even in death and had never gone a day without laughing in life, making other people's lives feel that little bit lighter because of it.

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter

To the burdened prince who he had always hated and never understood, but without whom so many more lives may have been lost in their struggle for victory.

It requires more courage to suffer than to die

To the lively young witch, none of whose many faces could mask the determined mind, loving heart and vibrant soul that lay beneath them.

True beauty is a light in the heart

To the gentle wolf, who had deserved so many more chances than life had given him; the man who had died fighting for his son and whose sacrifice would never be in vain.

It is a blessing to be able to die for that which is worth living for

And most of all, to the majestic stag and the graceful doe, who he would always feel watching over him; his loving parents whose sacrifice kept the fire of vengeance burning in his heart and the protection of love flowing forever through his veins.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death

Splash after splash echoed around the deserted cove and at last, exhausted, Harry was out of goodbyes, out of apologies, out of promises. He turned a last, uneven stone over in his hands, and as a tiny fragment of imbedded red glass flashed in the afternoon sun, a sudden chill passed through Harry's heart.

There was someone else to whom he had not paid tribute, who would never be honoured, or missed, and yet could not be forgotten, because without that one venomous serpent, there would be no other loss, no grief, no reason to have to say these goodbyes at all. Voldemort's body had been moved a long way from any form of civilization the day after the battle and burned, the remains being left to smolder until they disintegrated into nothing. His name was rarely mentioned by anyone, but Harry, although no longer plagued by nightmares and visions of Voldemort's mind, did not go a day without thinking of his most bitter enemy, and it was to him that he dedicated the final throw and the great splash of salty water.

You will be remembered Tom Riddle, he vowed. But not for the reasons you would have wanted to be. Not as a great wizard or a man who did terrible and impressive things, but as someone who was impure and inhuman, and in being so brought out the best in some truly great men and women at a time when all seemed lost. You were the man who tore a thousand lives to shreds, but you will remain in my memory as someone who forced a thousand stronger characters to be built, and a thousand noble sacrifices to be made. You deserve to be forgotten, but those who lost their lives because of you deserve to have the world remember why, and it is their merits, not yours, which I will honour for the rest of my life.

He whose deepest need is to be free of the anxiety of death will never be fully alive.

Harry felt his legs shake beneath him and he sank back so that he was sitting on the sand. He was breathing heavily; his hair was damp from the salty spray that lingered in the air and his eyes streaming with emotion. But some part of the pain he had just experience had left him now. The grief of losing so many people he loved would no doubt ebb and flow in waves against his soul like the tide crashing against rocks, and yet somehow he knew that unbearable emotion that had just mounted inside him would not return. He had said his final goodbyes. Even the waves seemed to be calming down as he relaxed into his more peaceful state of mind, and he sat there, staring out as far as the eye could see, until the sun began to fall from the sky, its pink glow melting into the tranquil water as it did so.

Life is eternal and love is immortal, but death is only a horizon; nothing save the limit of our sight.


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