Disclaimer: I do not own anything. If I did, then I doubt that I would be writing this story…!
Chapter One: Time to say goodbye
"I understand that there are no words that I can say that will ease the suffering and pain that you are all feeling. We have all been through hard times these past two years and there are hard times still ahead. But we will get past this, although it may not feel like it in the present. We have lost sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, parents, friends and colleagues. But they have not died in vain. They died fighting against a terror that has plagued the back of our minds for seventeen years. They died fighting to keep us safe, and whilst we still live the memory of our loved ones and what they have done for us lives on. We remember those who died since the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in June of 1994: Cedric Diggory, Broderick Bode, Emmeline Vance, Amelia Bones, Florean Fortescue, Alana Abbott, Albus Dumbledore, Charity Burbage, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Vincent Crabbe, Fred Weasley, Lavender Brown, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Colin Creevy….."
Kinglsey's list went on naming what felt like one hundred names. Harry fidgeted in his seat, staring down at his hands. The grounds of Hogwarts had never looked more beautiful but the occasion could not have been sadder. The lake glittered like diamonds behind a familiar podium where newly appointed Minister for Magic Kinglsey Shacklebolt read the names of the fallen from a long piece of parchment. He could hear Mrs. Weasley's dry sobs in the row of chairs behind him, she had cried herself hoarse the night before and Harry still couldn't turn his face to look at her without feeling a lump in the back of his throat.
Next to him Ron stared blankly at Kinglsey, his face un-readable. Hermione sat on the other side of Ron, her hand clasped over his, a slow trickle of tears making their way down her cheeks. Harry looked back up at Kingsley who had finished the list of names and was moving away from the podium. Professor McGonagall, now Headmistress of Hogwarts stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat, her voice slightly shaky as she wiped a tear away from her right eye.
"In light of the Battle of Hogwarts and the lives of friends, students and professors that have been lost memorial plaques will be erected in the Entrance Hall so we can remember the sacrifice that these brave souls have made and so their memory will stay within these walls." Professor McGonagall wiped her nose with a tartan hanky and then cleared her throat again. "Please let us take one minute's silence to remember those that we have lost."
The congregation rose to their feet, Harry took a quick glance behind him to see the hundreds and hundreds of people stand quietly. Students, teachers, Order of the Phoenix members, residents of Hogsmeade, centaurs, merpeople from the lake, Hagrid and his brother Grawp, and people from all over the wizarding world crowded the grounds of Hogwarts, in front of the lake where four rows of alabaster white coffins lay. At the end of the minute's silence Harry watched as Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Slughorn, Professor Flitwick and Kinglsey turned to the rows of coffins and raised their wands.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the coffins began to turn into thousands upon thousands of coloured butterflies which rose into their air, weaving and dancing their way over the lake, above the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the castle in the background. Lowering her wand, Professor McGonagall turned back to the congregation.
"I know that this is a sad time for us all, but it is also a time for celebration. Celebration of the lives of our loved ones and a celebration of the end of a dark time for us all. Please, join us in the Great Hall."
As the congregation began to move Harry stayed in his seat, it was over, all over. Voldemort was dead everyone was safe, that was the end right? He should feel happy but he didn't. He was sad yes by the deaths of so many people he knew, but he didn't feel like celebrating. He couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Harry." A soft voice said.
Harry raised his head to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of him. "Can I sit down?" She asked.
Harry nodded and allowed his head of house to sit next to him. She said nothing for a few moments, staring at the sun glittering on the lake, it reflected in the square spectacles she wore and Harry could see, from the corner of his eye she was crying.
"Professor." He began, but couldn't find the words he wanted to say.
"Harry, you've been extremely brave. I just want to thank you." She trailed off, more tears springing to her eyes.
"I didn't do it alone." Harry said bluntly.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "People are going to want to talk to you, ask you questions, they're going to say things to you, want answers as to why their children are dead."
Harry nodded solemnly.
"Harry there are always people here to help you, if you ever need to talk to someone there are people that care about you, myself included. But I need to tell you, for a while the wizarding world is going to want to see you, they're going to want you to be out and about. Shaking hands, smiling, hugging. There are going to be reporters following you night and day. They're going to expect it. I don't want to sound like I'm lecturing you or anything…."
"You're not Professor. I understand, I've got to smile and get it over with?" Harry said.
"In a way yes, but don't let yourself get wrapped up in all the publicity. And Harry," Professor McGonagall said as she stood, straightening her black robes, "allow yourself some time to grieve. Don't let yourself become emotionless. It's okay to show weakness sometimes, it makes you human."
Professor McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you. We all are."
Harry watched Professor McGonagall walk back up to the castle. He took a deep breath before standing up, running a hand through his hair. He began to walk, slowly back up to the castle. He paused in the Entrance Hall, still damaged from the night before and though much of the Great Hall was damaged, the four house tables still stood, though no one paid much attention to sitting within the constraints of their houses. People turned to look at him as he walked towards the Gryffindor table where Hermione and the Weasley's were sitting.
Mrs. Weasley looked up as he approached, her eyes brimming with tears. She stood and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. Harry couldn't think of anything to say so he just hugged her back. When Mrs. Weasley finally let him go he slid onto the bench next to Ron and pulled a goblet of butterbeer towards him. The Great Hall was subdued, unlike the night before where the celebrations had gone well into the night. But the mass funeral of their loved ones had definitely had a quieting effect on the survivors of the battle.
Harry stared into his butterbeer wondering why he was feeling so sad. He couldn't fathom it. He could still hear Professor McGonagall's words in his head:
"Don't let yourself become emotionless. Allow yourself time to grieve."
Maybe that's what he should do? Grieve? It seemed appropriate, everyone around him was. But he didn't feel like crying. He didn't want to be sad anymore he just was. And he knew he didn't want to be in the Great Hall, with people all around him, watching him, wanting to approach but keeping their distance. He stood again, Hermione glancing up from her spot opposite him.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
Harry shrugged, somehow he couldn't find his voice and began to leave the hall.
"Should we go with him?" He heard Ron ask.
"Maybe just leave him alone." Ginny said.
His heart seemed to soar at Ginny's comment. She would understand. She always understood. He wandered back out into the grounds, the sun was getting lower in the sky, sitting just above the edge of the lake, it's reflection on the still lake was like a giant flame. It amazed him how the world could go back to being so peaceful after so much heartache and torment. He wandered back down towards the lake and sat beneath a large tree, resting against the strong trunk, he closed his eyes and for the first time, his mind felt at peace.
Author's Note: Please let me know what you think. I am not sure where I want this story to go yet.
xx
