"You've done well with the hands"

Ginny moved along the pattern, noting with satisfaction that the young sculptor had not tried to "pretty up" the faces. "And I like how you've done my hair - it looks almost real. Your family might not approve, but I think you have shown you have true talent."

Scorpius Malfoy straightened up from the smallest model; that of a scrawny yet resolute house-elf. He started wiping his hands on a piece of scrap cloth as he moved beside her, grinning with pleasure at the compliment. "I worked a long time on that, so thank you, Mrs Potter. You've just made all this effort worthwhile."

The two stood silently for a while contemplating the bas-relief of the major participants in the events of that fateful year. A small sigh disturbed Scorpius, and he turned to catch her furtively wiping a tear away.

"Twenty-five years. It doesn't seem that long, really. Scorpius, will it be ready for the ceremony on Monday?"

"It should be. The casting has to be by the new moon. The simultaneous enchantment makes the figures move, so it's got to happen tonight! Then a final polish and setting it into the concrete in the entrance to the main hall... Mrs Potter? Did I say something wrong?"

Ginny wiped again at the tears, failing completely to stop them. Memories of Fred, Tonks and Sirius, among others, overcame her control and she wept unashamedly, one hand resting on Fred's clay shoulder. After a minute, though, she smiled through the tears.

"No, Scorpius. No. Something right. Something very, very right. Your father ought to be proud." She kissed his cheek. "You ought to be proud, Mr Malfoy".

She walked off, leaving the young sculptor standing speechless in the gathering dusk.