The Pensieve

Too many funerals. There had been too many funerals, two or three a day for the last week. He'd done what he could, be it consoling the grieving, as he'd done at Fred's funeral, or quietly standing unobtrusively in the back, as he had at Lavender Brown's service. But Harry Potter felt obligated to attend every one of them. Or, nearly every one of them. He'd heard of the funerals of the fallen Death Eaters, but had chosen to abstain from those of the people who had killed his friends.

Voldemort had even had a kind of funeral, and well attended too. By the succession of arrivals and immediate departures, Harry had guessed most had shown up just to confirm once and for all that the Dark Lord, was indeed, dead. He'd been reminded of the inferi filled lake inside the cave, as Voldemort's body had been placed in a small boat and set out on to the small lake behind Malfoy Manor and set a flame. It was the only place for it, as all cemeteries in the magical world had refused his internment. And, as Kingsley had noted, it was somehow fitting punishment for the Malfoys; knowing that the ashes of their fallen lord covered the bottom of their family lake. At Narcissca's instance, the body of her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange had been loaded into the boat next to her lord. Weather it was because Bella had been likewise refused by the cemeteries, or because Narcissa knew that to go through that final act at her Masters side was what Bella would have wanted, Harry neither knew, nor cared.

No words had been spoken at the lakeside as the boat drifted slowly out into the middle of the lake. Kingsley had merely lifted his wand and conjured a ball of fire that flew contrastingly through the sky of the soft spring evening, igniting the small boat. Some attendees began to drift off as the wood began to pop and splinter, flames engulfing the body. Lucius left as the flames grew higher than the tree line, but Harry, Ron, Hermione and Kingsley stood watching until the last ember sputtered feebly out in the water. Narcissa was standing alone on the shore as they turned to leave.

Severus Snape's funeral had been sparsely attended. This angered Harry, now that he knew the truth of the Potion Masters life, but it probably would have suited Snape just fine, Harry admitted to himself. With the thoughts Snape's memories still fresh in his mind, Harry had insisted Snape be buried in the shady grove underneath the trees in Spinners End. It was, Harry had felt, where Professor Snape had been the happiest. When the spoken regrets were over, Minerva McGonagall's being the most heartfelt, and people Apparated away, Harry was left alone at the grave of the man who had made his life so impossible and possible at the same time. From inside his robe pocket, he'd pulled out one flower, rested it against the simple headstone and Apparated back to the Burrow, leaving the single lily behind.

Colin Creevey's funeral had been, perhaps, the most uncomfortable of them so far. Colin's parents, both muggles and until six years ago completely unaware of the magical world, had been devastated by the loss of their son in a war they did not understand. Dennis Creevey had stood motionless in his mothers clutching embrace as Harry had extended his condolences, and, on Hermione's advice, recounted a somewhat pleasant memory of Colin in the Gryffindor common room from years ago. Mr. and Mrs. Creevey had stared blankly, almost through him as Harry had spoken, his practiced story falling away and trailing feebly out. Dennis had then dislodged himself from his mothers grip and offered his hand to Harry, saying only, "It's not your fault."

But today, Harry thought as he looked at his reflection in the mirror over the chest of drawers in the silver-grey silk covered bedroom and straightened his tie; today would be the hardest for him.

In the week since the battle, and moving back to Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had taken task in hand. Dusting, and washing carpets and drapes. He had also, at Harry's request, redone the walls in Sirius' bedroom. Unable to remove the Permanent Sticking Charm on the muggle posters of bikini clad women, he'd hidden them instead. Recovering the bedroom walls in the same silver-grey silk as the Blacks had had installed. But Kreacher, in a burst ofuncharacteristic sentiment, had left one small photograph showing, and it was small movement off to his right that came from this photo that caught Harry's eye, and he walked over to it.

Four young boys gazed back at him, laughing. Harry smiled faintly at the images of his father and god father, ignored the smallest of the boys, and turned his attention fully to the boy on James' left. Remus Lupin, at about fifteen, Harry guessed, full of admiration of his friends, joy at being accepted and included. He was the one Harry had known the longest. The first of his fathers friends to come into Harry's life, if you didn't count Wormtail posing as Scabbers, and Harry choose not to, and had remained there, a constant source of strength and reminder of family. And now he was dead.

A knock on the door intruded into Harry's thoughts, and Kreacher's voice spoke softly from the hallway. "Master Harry?"

"Come on in Kreacher," Harry answered, moving over to the bed and picking up a shoe.

The door opened, and Kreacher walked in, a clean dish towel slung across his hips and the locket bouncing against his chest. Harry's freshly washed and pressed dress robes laid across his out stretched arms. "Master Harry should be leaving if he wants to arrive on time."

"Thanks Kreacher," Harry slipped on his other shoe, tied it tightly then took the offered dress robes and slipped into them. Kreacher hopped up onto the bed and began to swipe the back of the robes with a lint brush.

"Mistress Nymphadora was always kind to Kreacher," the elf said out of the blue.

Harry turned, startled. "Kreacher, would you like to go to the service with me?"

Kreacher shook his head slowly. "No, thank you Master Harry. Kreacher has his own service to attend this afternoon."

Harry's brow furrowed. The Hogwarts house elves had joined the battle in the very end, there had been wounds, yes, but as far as Harry knew, none had died during battle, and none of the wounds were life threatening. "Who's service, Kreacher?"

Kreacher sighed deeply. "Dobby's service, Master Harry. The house elves are having our own funeral for him."

Harry swallowed hard against the lump of tears that had formed in his throat. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and when Kreacher again lifted the lint brush up, Harry gently pushed his hand back down. The old house elf understood and climbed down from the bed, left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

.

All the Auror's were there, Harry noted. Kingsley had introduced him a few days ago, when Harry had gone to the Ministry and had ruthlessly argued Snape's case, defending his former professor until Kingsley had understood the entire saga and was satisfied that Severus Snape had indeed, been acting on Albus Dumbledore's orders through out.

Luna and Hermione cooed over baby Teddy, swaddled in a blue blanket and cradled in his grandmother's arms. Andromeda Tonks sat straight backed and upright in one of the chairs in the front row, staring at one of the two caskets. She graciously accepted all condolences, but, Harry noticed, when there was no one directly in front of her, when Andromeda thought all attention was elsewhere, she sagged a bit under the weight of her grief. Augusta Longbottom sat rigidly at her side, the stuffed vulture on her hat bobbed with the slightest movement, and a mental picture of the boggart Snape emerging from the wardrobe made Harry smile. And then his eyes welled up remembering that the man who had given him the memory was now lying in one of the caskets.

Teddy squirmed a bit and began to fuss; Molly Weasley rushed up and offered to relive Andromeda for a while, and Andromeda reluctantly handed him over. Molly cooed to Teddy, holding him against her shoulder and taking off to the side where his fussing would not disturb the service. The blanket slipped down off of Teddy's head, revealing a patch of thick turquoise hair, making Harry smile with memory. Arthur joined them a moment later.

Neville and Ron stood off to one side, quietly chatting with Auror's Proudfoot and Savage, likely, Harry thought, getting an idea of what an Auror career held in store for them. Charlie Weasley stood grouped with his brothers and sister-in-law, and dabbed at his eyes. This confused Harry for a moment, until he remembered that Tonks and Charlie had been classmates at Hogwarts, and, apparently good friends. George Weasley stood close enough to his brothers as to be a part of the group, but just enough away so that he did not have to participate in the conversation. Many of Harry's classmates were in attendance too. Remus Lupin had been a well liked professor at Hogwarts and many of his former students had shown up to say a final goodbye.

Members of the Order of the Phoenix, those who had survived the battle, and were not still in St. Mungo's were in attendance as well, speaking to each other in hushed voices, no doubt sharing stories of Remus and Tonks. Hagrid stood in the back, blowing his nose thickly into a bandanna.

Minerva McGonagall sat down next to Andromeda and took her hand, patting it gently. Andromeda inclined her head just a bit and spoke quietly to the Headmistress for a few moments before Kingsley, wearing impressive dress robes, walked up to the women and suggested it might be time for the service to begin.

Having received Andromeda's consent, Kingsley began to move about the crowd, shepherding people into seats. Ginny looped her arm through Harry's and together they joined the small group of their friends in the seats Hermione had saved for them.

It was the same small tufty-haired wizard who had presided over Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding, and so many of the funerals this week. Harry wondered if it had been he who had presided over Tonks and Lupin's wedding ceremony, just about a year ago. The wizard spoke of bravery and noble hearts, unselfish deeds for the good of wizard kind. Andromeda's head bowed, and her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she sobbed quietly into a handkerchief. Augusta and Minerva on either side of Andromeda rubbed the crying woman's back.

As the small wizard concluded the service, there was a moment of silence; only Teddy's soft fussing and the quiet weeping of several people in attendance could be heard. After a moment, Harry, all the Weasley men, Neville, Proudfoot and Savage stood and walked up to the dais, standing on either side of both caskets. Kingsley stood at the top of the caskets, and at his signal, all the pallbearers brandished their wands as one. The caskets rose a foot into the air and glided gracefully into the two graves that had already been carved out from the ground. Kingsley, his arms outstretched to his sides, levitated the piles of earth and covered the caskets.

Harry stood off to the side, watching the sun set, and waiting for the crowd to disperse. Kingsley and the two Auror's had already left, headed back for the Ministry and the seemingly insurmountable amount of work left to be done. Professor McGonagall too had Apparated back to Hogwarts, taking Hagrid as a sidealong, as there was just as much work to be done at the school.

Ginny came up quietly behind Harry and slipped her arm around his waist. "You ok?" she asked, looking up at him and searching his eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Not really, no."

She smiled wanly at him and tightened her arm around him. "It's almost over. Only a few more funerals left." Harry nodded in agreement, and Ginny, knowing anything more she might say would be of little comfort, said, "Come to the Burrow for dinner. Mum said she's making treacle tart." She reached up and ran her fingers though his hair, as much of a misguided attempt to flatten it, as it was just to offer some comfort to him.

Harry smiled a little at the thought, not of the treacle tart, but of being surrounded by a loving family at the end of a terrible day. Ginny, satisfied with this, kissed him on the cheek and headed off toward her waiting family.

Andromeda was still sitting in her chair, the baby back in her arms, staring at the mound of earth her daughter now lay under. Harry felt his chest tighten and a lump rise in his throat. He walked over to her and stood quietly for a moment, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts.

"Good of you to come, Harry." Andromeda said with out looking at him. Harry sat down in the seat next to her and offered Teddy's outstretched fists one finger. Teddy grabbed it and held on with strength Harry had not expected, and he gave a short burst of surprised laughter. Andromeda glanced down to her grandson in time to see the baby's hair morph into a bright pink. "Just like his mother," she whispered and looked to Harry. "He likes you. Nymphadora's hair used to turn that exact shade when she was happy."

Harry didn't know what to say. The words, 'I'm sorry' seemed immensely inadequate, not only for the situation, but for what Harry was feeling as well. "Remus was a good man," Andromeda relieved Harry of the burden of thinking of something to say. "I can not say I was happy with my daughters choice at first, but," she sighed and looked again to Teddy "their union gave me…" she paused, "this wonderful boy," she finished and looked slightly ashamed of herself. Harry wondered if she was unable to say Teddy's name so soon after her husband, the Ted the baby was named for, had died. "I have something for you," she adjusted Teddy's weight so he lay comfortably against only her right arm, and opened her pocketbook with her left.

What could she have, Harry wondered, and then thought perhaps a photograph of Remus and Tonks, or maybe Remus had kept something of James' that Andromeda was now returning. Harry's imaginative rambling was cut short when Andromeda's hand emerged from the pocketbook, seemingly holding nothing. It wasn't until she turned her wrist and opened her fingers that Harry realized she was handing him a small glass bottle with shimmering silvery thread that Harry immediately recognized as memory. "Remus left this for you. Before he left that night," she paused with the thought of the awful evening "he asked that if he didn't return, that I make sure you got this."

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a/n: TBC Thank you for reading!