This is kind of OOC
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"I don't see why he deserves to be buried. Why don't we just burn the body? That way there would be no reminder."
Ron had been grumbling on and on since Harry volunteered to take care of Voldemort's body; and of course Hermione said she would come with him and dragged Ron with her.
With Voldemort's covered form levitating in front of him, Harry was able to think back to the last nine months of hardship; the six moments he faced him and the past sixteen years of no family because of him. He understood why Ron wanted to just burn him. Fred's funeral was just two days ago and the pain that came with his, Remus, Tonks and the other fifty people who lost their lives because of one man's grudge was still a fresh wound.
But he also understood Voldemort, and knew that he could have ended up like him. When Voldemort thought of muggles all he saw was his father; someone who abandoned his family just because they were different. He grew up in a place where children either made fun of him or shied away in fear because he could do things they couldn't. To them he was a freak. His childhood cries were ignored. He did not forget and he certainly did not forgive.
Harry grew up in the same kind of environment, hated for being different. He would never forget but he learned to forgive. His pleas were heard and he gained something that Voldemort never had.
They reached the place where he was to be buried. For the first time since he decided to do this, Harry hesitated. Understanding may have set in, but the raw hatred was still there. Voldemort used people to gain power to punish all muggles for one muggle's mistake. He tried to destroy muggleborns just because of Slytherin's views on them. Because of him, Harry never knew his family. Because of him, the Weasley's would never laugh at a joke Fred made again; Dennis Creavey won't be able to turn to his older brother for advice again and Teddy Lupin will never get to know his parents.
With one flick of Hermione's wand, his grave was dug and he lowered the corpse. Once it was covered they lifted a headstone. He could tell that Ron wanted to use the headstone to insult him, but Hermione took his hand and pulled him back, leaving Harry alone with the man that ripped apart his family along with many others. He also had the temptation to insult him, but every cruel word his uncle said to him; every night he cried himself to sleep in the locked cupboard; every burning feeling of hatred for the Dursleys came brimming to the surface. He lifted his wand and wrote a few words on the stone.
He stayed staring at his handiwork for no more than a moment before he turned away. And with his best friends, Hermione, whose reasoning kept him sane and Ron whose humour kept him laughing; they walked back to the school without looking back.
...
For years to come people would walk past the grave and would not think it was the final resting place of the man that terrorised the nation, but those who knew would stop and wonder if things could have been different for the poor boy who grew up in an orphanage.
Tom M Riddle
31st December 1926 – 2nd May 1998
An orphan whose cry for help was heard too late
A/N review please!