Hello! This is Little Pirate here :) This is my story which is betaed by the all-mighty Big Pirate… whom said that this was a pile of angst

Well, the beginning is a …a tad angsty and dramatic, I have to agree, but it's not so much later.

Well hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 1: The Gathering

Swirling green eyes scanned the heavens above impassively. Darkened, tumbling clouds conquered the skies swiftly, then as it let go of it's cargo upon the earth – a bitter smile graced his pale, drawn face.

It's ironic, he thought as the droplets slid down his cheeks like tears, I was crying then.

Bringing his gaze down once again, he stared at the gathering before him. Crowds of grim, sad and tear-stricken faces welcomed him. He did not want to be here. He had had enough of the effects the war had on the wizarding world. Every soul had felt, seen, tasted and given death not long ago. No-one had been left untouched.

There were many wounds to heal, lives that were broken and needed to be mended with no hope to be whole again.

The young man let out a sigh, trying to crush the sinking in his stomach. He was tempted to turn away from the sadness emanating from the gathering. He stared at the muddy path below, watching the puddles and pools of water forming. All he could do was wish that he could stay in this moment, where his mind and eyes were merely occupied with following the fall and impact of the rain.

But he knew he couldn't.

His body tensed as he felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around his waist, but he calmed as a familiar scent encompassed him.

'Harry?' a soft, tentative voice whispered into his ear.

He turned and brought his arms around the other's neck. Silver eyes gazed intently into Harry's own. The dark-haired adolescent nuzzled the curve of the neck before him as he tightened his grip and clung to his lover.

'I don't want to be here, Draco…' he breathed.

Draco closed his eyes, as he kissed the curve of Harry's neck. He could feel the wetness of tears upon his skin and the shaking of the form within his embrace. 'Oh, love. Shush.'

Slowly, the trembling abated and Harry drew back. Draco wiped away the remaining tears with his thumb and cupped Harry's face with his hand.

'I know you don't want to be here. Not a lot of people want to be either – they don't want to be reminded of what has passed. But we need to accept what has happened,' the blond said quietly.

Harry looked away, 'I know. '

Draco drew out of their embrace and took his lover's hand. 'Then let's go. They are starting soon.'

The two entered the crowd in the tent and made their way to the podium, on which Minerva McGonagall stood tall and stiffly. She was flanked by Remus Lupin and Tonks, who were her guards for the duration of the event.

'Greetings, fellow wizards and witches,' Minerva said, watching as her magnified voice silenced the mass and brought the desired attention. She sighed tiredly before she carried on.

'This day, as you all surely know…is the anniversary of the start of the war. A year since Voldemort's Death Eaters stormed Hogworts and attempted to take the life of the late Albus Dumbledore, former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, who died in the Final Battle.'

'It seemed like there was no hope to save our world from the darkness of Voldemort - but we succeeded. It has been seven months since our Chosen One and the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter - defeated the Dark Lord.'

'There were many that died in the countless battles against Voldemort's forces. But their deaths were not in vain, for they died fighting to protect their beliefs, their loved ones and their world. They were not alone as they nurtured the fragile hope of our people. We should honour their sacrifice.'

'Let us remember Alastor Moody, a brave Auror who was without equal and Arthur Weasley, a man who died protecting his family from harm in the Final Battle.'

Harry turned to the side when he heard a sob. He gazed sadly at Molly Weasley, who was crying into her hands and being comforted by her only daughter, Ginny.

'Let us remember Sirius Black, a man who was wrongly accused and died in battle with Bellatrix Lestrange, a Death Eater.'

Harry gripped Draco's hand tightly.

'Let us remember Narcissa Malfoy, who switched sides long before the war and amazed us with her ability to heal – which proved to be a great asset to the Light. She died protecting her family in the Final Battle.'

Draco inclined his head, the hood of his robe hiding his eyes from view.

'Let us remember-'

Harry exhaled a deep breath and pulled his boyfriend away from the podium and the crowd to the field. He didn't want to cry in front of others. He didn't want to accept Sirius' death. He didn't want to believe Dumbledore was dead. He wanted to see them. He could want all he wanted, but it wouldn't make a difference.

They were dead.

The couple huddled together under the meagre shelter of a tree. They sat in silence - there was no need for words. They needed and did not need each other in that moment. They mourned in different ways and respected that difference.

The rain had lessened into a slight drizzle and there were partings in the layer of clouds, which let forth bursts of light upon the world. There were groups of wizards and witches filing out of the tent with barely a murmur between them. It was time to recollect, to mourn and to accept.

I guess, where there is darkness, there is always light, Harry thought as he stared at the sky.

Woot! So what do you think? Review and tell me!

Ja ne!