Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters. There are major spoilers all the way up from book four to book seven, so please read at your own risk. Please enjoy and review.

It was an unnaturally windy day. Once more, as had been done in the past, the heads of houses were leading their students down up on the grounds. McGonagall ahead of Gryfinddor, Flitwick ahead of Ravenclaw, Sprout ahead of Hufflepuffs. Only the Slytherins lacked a head of house, and Filch lead the very few students who had remained behind.

Harry walked inbetween Ron and Hermoine, with Ginny trailing closely on their outside. Rows upon rows of white chairs were set out next to the lake. Much like Dumbledore's funeral. Harry found it hard to believe a year had passed since then, and at the thought a sharp pain started in the back of his throat. Now it was not one memorial, but many.

As the four came closer to the seats, Harry saw familiar faces. All the same that had attended Dumbledore's funeral, but with gaps here and there.

The Weasley's took up a whole row for themselves, except for the five seats empty next to Bill and Fleur. George was missing. Andromeda Tonks stood holding a bundle in her arms. Harry knew this to be his godson, and he had to turn away quickly. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix were sprinkled in the crowd. Hermoine pointed and to everyone's surprise centaurs were actually standing among the wizards. Bane was standing alongside Firenze, whose wounds were mending.

There were many Muggles now too. Hermoine's parents and Dean's parents stood less awkwardly than imagined in the back row. And the Muggle Prime Minister was positioned serenely next to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ron nudged him in the ribs, and with a sinister look in his eyes nodded his head to the large tree to the left of the chairs. Draco Malfoy was hidden back in the shade, his face sickly and set as ever. A surge of fury swept through Harry and he and Ron both started forward. Hermoine and Ginny settled them back with knowing looks on their faces. Reluctantly, they followed.

When they reached the row of Weasleys, Ron sat down next to Bill, followed by Hermoine. Harry sat between she and Ginny. He looked forward. Set up in front of the lake was a massive platform with thirty or so large tables and a massive monument in the center. It was a stone statue of each person that had lost their lives in the battles against Voldemort. They were all standing as their personalities justified. Beautifully carved, Harry saw Sirius's face smiling out at him. And with the pain of memory, he saw his mum and dad.

But before anyone could speak, or get a long look at the this monument, Fawkes swooped soundlessly over the crowd and began his song. It was joined by the Merpeople, who had broken the surface of the lake. Together they told a story of despair. It was fitting, and yet, Harry's heart was not in it.

And then, one by one, came the procession. Everyone turned quietly in their seats to watch.

Hagrid came first, carrying a long bundle wrapped in black cloth. Harry knew this to be Snape, and for a moment was lost in the Penseive again. His mother's eyes glowing in the back of his mind. Hagrid stepped upon the raised platform in front of the lake and laid Snape's body gently upon a marble table. He then turned, his large hands hanging limply at his sides, and took his place next to Grawp.

Next came Kingsley Shacklebolt, his wand held steadily before him, where two bodies wrapped in purple floated before him.

"Lupin and Tonks," Ron whispered, his face white.

They too were laid upon their own places. Teddy had started to cry softly.

Horribly, the procession lasted for half an hour. Dennis Creevey, his face set but his lip trembling, carried in his brother Colin Creevey. His father stood up to help as he passed, but Dennis shook his head defiantly. He placed Colin down carefully, before turning and going back to his father.

Katie Bell, her Quidditch robes showing barely beneath her crimson and gold wrap was carried in by Angelina Spinnet. Angelina placed Katie's broomstick at her side before bursting into tears. She was lead away by Oliver Wood. Harry turned to look at Ron and Hermoine. He could have lost either one of them.

But his thoughts were cut short by the final couple walking towards the platform.

George Weasley, his magenta staff robes shining brightly in the sunlight, was carrying his brother in his arms, wrapped in a matching magenta cloth with a fiery orange F emblazoned over the top. George's body was wracked with heaving sobs as he walked the steps to the platform. He laid his twin's body upon his table before reaching into his robes. He pulled out a small item. Harry knew it immediately to be a Weasley firework. With a spark from his wand it ignited and shot with a crack into the air. It emitted bright red sparks that slowly spelled: "Mischief Managed."

George stepped off the platform and walked towards his family. Harry and the other's moved down a seat so George could take his place between Bill and Ron, who threw their arms around George's heaving shoulders. Harry felt as he may be sick.

The little man who had spoken at Dumbledore's funeral stepped forward. He smoothed his small beard and straightened his robes.

"As you all know, I'm here to speak on the many losses taken place upon these grounds, and by the evils that once stepped foot on these grounds. But, I will not be speaking today. By the request of staff and many others, Mister Harry Potter will now take the podium."

Everyone turned in their seats to look for Harry. He sat, his mouth hanging slightly open, before Ron pushed him up out of his seat.

"Go on, mate."

Awkwardly, Harry made his way up through the sea of curious and devastated faces. Walking behind the podium, he wondered frantically what he would say. He was no prepared for this, what could he possibly say?

He looked out upon the sea of seats and faces. All turned towards him, as they had always been. Whether in love, hate, suspicion, admiration.. They had all gazed upon him at times. And now, Harry's mind drew a blank. Just cold, mixed with relief, and the two emotions threatened to pull him apart.

Fear settled in his heart, and just when he considered stepping away from the podium and running back to the safety of his seat, a hand fell softly upon his shoulder. He turned to find Professor McGonagall as she gently pressed her wand against his neck.

"Sonorus." she said quietly. Harry gazed at her softly. She leaned down closer to his face. Her eyes were red, and when she whispered her voice was thick. "It's alright Potter. Everything in its time."

And with that, she stepped away, pulling her black shawl tightly around her shoulders. She stepped down and took her seat next to Grawp, who took up three.

Harry took a breath. It was so magnified that it blended in with the rushing wind. He wondered briefly what Dumbledore would have said. Not knowing how to begin, but knowing that he must say something, he spoke.

We've all lost someone we knew. Harry paused. Somehow those words hadn't come out as he'd wanted. He took a shaky breath. "We've all lost someone we loved."

"Most of you know me as the Boy-Who-Lived, because seventeen years ago my mum put a charm on me that defeated Voldemort."

No one in the audience shuddered at the name. Save for Ron, whose arm wrapped more tightly around Hermoine momentarily.

"But now I look back on these seventeen years, and I know I caused more trouble than any of you ever dreamed imaginable. A lot of sacrifices were made, cause of me. And a lot of people died."

Harry closed his eyes. Sirius falling through the veil, Lupin and Tonks lying side by side, Colin Creevey being carried away, Fred lying amongst rubble, a small smile on his lips. A sharp pain began to edge into his stomach, and a tight lump had formed in his throat. He opened his eyes and saw Ron, Hermoine and Ginny looking up at him. Hermoine and Ginny both had tears running down their faces in rivulets. But Hermoine nodded, edging him on. Harry swallowed.

"And I'm here to tell you.. I'm no hero, but merely a boy who lived."

Whispers mixed with the wind as Harry's voice carried across the grounds. Ernie McMillan stood up from his seat.

"Hear, Hear Harry. You're more of hero than I've ever seen. And that's the truth."

A few around him murmured, nodding their heads. Mrs. Weasley had pulled out a handkerchief and was dabbing her eyes. But Harry was shaking his. Tears threatening to spill.

"No. No.. Not a hero. But a boy who finally found love, and knew what had to be done. But today isn't about me. Enough about me now. It's those that.."

He paused. Fawkes still sang quietly somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

"It's about those that died for me, and for you, and for what we always wanted."

He looked down at Ginny, who through her tears smiled. And suddenly words were pouring from Harry's heart.

"It's about Professor Snape, who risked everything for Dumbledore, and for everyone here today. Even when half the student body hated him. Honor him.

"It's about Colin Creevey, Katie Bell, and Cedric Diggory.. Students, friends, classmates, brothers, sisters, lovers, daughters, sons.. It's about them right now. And the memories they left behind. Honor them.

"It's about Fred Weasley. One of the bravest and truest people I ever met. Laugh in his honor, and smile in his wake."

And then it came. The frustration, the realization, and the tears. Hot, angry, devastated tears that poured from Harry's eyes and down upon his robes. He slammed his eyes shut but it was no use, and he was not ashamed. No, he was not ashamed.

"It's about every person we've lost, and every think we've gained. It's about what they died for. Not for me, but for every heart still beating safely. Don't forget them. Let them live on. In laughter, in tears, in games, in school hallways, in empty bedrooms, in pictured walls. Let them live on in every memory and in every second of every day. Every breath you take, stop and listen. Because I for one know, that wherever you are, they are with you. Each and every step of your way.

Honor them. So that everyone knows of their sacrifice. Respect them. So that they did not die in vain. And most of all, remember them. So that they will live forever. Thank you."

He placed his wand against his neck and choked "Quietus."He left the podium to the sounds of applause and tears. He walked past his seat and away from the crowd. People made to stop him but he continued on. Ron and Hermoine stood up to follow. As they walked across the grounds the names of each person was etched silently in their monument. Albus Dumbledore.. Sirius Black.. Lily and James Potter.. each and every one.

And Harry Potter coming to a stop close to the castle doors, with the two people who had stood by him longest, fell to his knees beneath a clear blue sky. They kneeled beside him, hands on his back. Silent.

And despite his grief, he knew his scar would trouble him no more.