HARRY POTTER'S EULOGY
By: Tezza1502
Rating: T
Synopsis: I guess this one is all about the bad feeling I have that the Potter books will not end well for the Boy Who Lived. Nothing personal, I WANT to see it end with him, Ginny, Ron and Hermoine having a double wedding, or somesuch. But, if Ms. Rowling has got the shits with the whole circus surrounding her work, she may well just decide to put a bullet (or something even nastier, magic-wise) in it and be done. Here's hoping otherwise. ANYWAY, as usual, this one started with a single idea and mushroomed out of control. Kinda downbeat, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own or lay claim to any of the great works by J. K. Rowling. This is just me expressing my enjoyment of the wonderful fiction she has created. Wands high!
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
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It was a bright, clear spring day that had settled over Privet Drive; a wonderful day with birds singing, a cool breeze caressing the houses and their inhabitants, and just a hint of winters snap left in the air to take the edge off the bright sun. So the large, black raven heading towards the front door of number four, Privet Drive was a most unusual visitor.
For one thing, it wasn't an effing owl. Also, there seemed to be an air of despondency surrounding the large bird, as if it was aware it's entire purpose was to deliver news which, while expected, was never really welcome. It approached the house nervously, as if fully aware of the high level of antipathy with which the inhabitants regarded the world he came from. Cautiously, it poked the letter it had been tasked with delivering through the mail slot, then departed with a haste not usually associated with a raven performing this particular duty.
It was an unusual looking letter, even amongst wizarding kind. For a start, it was not white, as with most mail, muggle or otherwise. It was not even the angry red of a howler. It was, however, a sombre shade of black with gold edging. A most formal style of calligraphy had been used to write the address it now found itself at. The invitation inside had also been written in this same style. All in all, it was not an envelope that would invoke joy and happy feelings. The emotions it did provoke from the inhabitants of number four, Privet Drive however, were extreme and perhaps, understandable.
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Two weeks later, three muggles found themselves standing, with obvious reluctance, outside a sombre building looking down the list of occupants for the address matching the one on their letter. Having found it, the three of them took a deep breath and walked inside the foyer. As they headed towards the elevators, an older gentleman appeared from behind a desk and stepped in front of them. "May I enquire as to your business here, Sirs and Madam?"
Vernon Dursley looked the man over, trying to discern as to whether he was being addressed by a normal person or one of . . . them. Since, no matter what his heritage, it didn't look as if he was going to step aside and let them past without some answer to his polite enquiry, Vernon just grunted and turned to his wife for the letter. Petunia held it by the corner between the fingernails of her thumb and forefinger, as if to limit any contamination she may receive from just being in contact with it. Taking it from her and handing it to the gentleman, Vernon stepped back and waited with an air of impatience.
The older man unfolded the letter and read:
'To,
Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, Dudley Dursley,
Greetings.
As you are aware, Harry James Potter lost his life ending a threat that had been plaguing the wizarding community for the last three decades. In accordance with his last wishes, he has invited you to a presentation of his will at the address below, at the time and date stipulated, also below. If, for whatever reason, you are unable to be present, please send us an owl and we will accommodate you to the best of our abilities.
Your servant,
Miss River S. Tycks.
Horus, Grimm and Associates.'
"Ah, the Dursleys."
Re-folding the letter and handing it back, he stepped aside and directed them towards the stairs. "The reading of young Mr. Potter's will is on the fourth floor. I do apologise, but you will have to walk up, as these elevators are just for show. Modern innovations simply do not work very well around magic, unfortunately. In any case, I rarely see anyone walk in the front door. Most of our visitors usually enter via the Flue Network, or just apparate."
Confused by their reactions to the mention of the standard modes of wizard transport, he continued, "I do remember young Mr. Potter entering this way, also. Very strange. He must have wanted to make sure he got here without mishap. Apparating and the network are very safe but, sometimes, accidents do happen." He pondered on this behaviour that was unusual, even for a young wizard. "I suppose he wanted to make sure nothing untoward happened to himself until after his business with us was concluded. Sensible enough for a person in his position, I guess."
Noting that the Dursleys were edging towards the stairs in an unsubtle way, he cut short his reverie and issued them with instructions, "Ah, yes, where was I? Oh yes, fourth floor, second door on the right, past the Flue Network Terminus, straight in and present this letter to the receptionist. Good day." He concluded brightly and returned to his post. As soon as he turned away, they started climbing the stairs quickly, to get as far away from the talkative old man as possible.
"Why are we doing this, dad?" Dudley asked as they puffed their way up the staircase. "He's dead and gone. Great! No more weird stuff around the house. Why do we have to come here and-"
"Because," he interrupted, "Because I want to be sure it's all finished with. That these . . . people he associated with will never come near us again. That's why. Now shut-up. I need to conserve my energy for these bloody stairs."
The rest of the climb was done in a wheezy silence.
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Finally arriving on their intended floor, they paused and caught their breath before heading towards the second door on the right. They did not look in through the first doorway as they passed. They did keep their eyes straight ahead, ignoring all the wizards and witches that came into their line of sight.
A sign hung above the next doorway. It stated in sombre letters:
HORUS, GRIMM and ASSOCIATES
'Guiding those who lived since 1432'
Upon entering the second door, they were greeted by a woman of indeterminate age. While she was dressed in black robes out of respect for the purpose for which the business existed, she had enough flashes of colour about her to indicate that she believes showing respect doesn't automatically mean being sad and sombre all the time.
"Welcome to Horus, Grimm and Associates. How may I be of service?"
Petunia's answering sniff indicated that any service this . . . person thought she could provide would never be up to a proper standard. "Party of three for the Potter reading." Vernon said tonelessly, handing over the letter again. The woman quickly scanned the letter before handing it back. "Ah, the Dursleys. Please follow me."
With that, she turned and towards one of several doorways spread out around the back of the room. Knocking on the door twice, she paused, then stepped aside. Gesturing into the room, she stated, "Please go in. Miss Tycks will show you to your seats." before turning away and heading back to her desk.
Eyeing the dark opening with distaste and not a little trepidation, the Dursleys girded their loins and walked in.
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Parting the shadowy curtain, they entered a large, well-lit room. Closest to them was a wide semi-circle of chairs curving away, facing what looked like a large Corinthian pillar, one meter high. A large pillow sat atop this, empty. Behind that, a table running almost the length of the back wall. On it were vague shapes covered by an embroidered white cloth. To the right, another doorway, leading to a back room. In the back left was a small buffet that Dudley was already eyeing off greedily. Vernon noticed this and reminded his son unkindly of what had happened the last time he ate any of . . . their food. The boy paled at the memory and stopped salivating.
"Oh, hello. Your early." Exclaimed a cheerful voice to their right. All three turned and noticed a young woman standing behind a lectern near the doorway. What struck them about her first was the fact that she was the most normal looking magical person they had ever seen. She was wearing a black, pinstriped business suit with a matching knee length skirt. Underneath, a white shirt with small silver stars all over it and three-inch high heels completed the outfit. She wore her hair in the latest shoulder length style, which almost hid the pendant earrings she was wearing. What broke the illusion of normalicy was that the pendants had stars swirling around in them.
"My name is River and I will be your living host for this afternoon. May I see your letter, please?"
Confused by the phrasing of her introduction, Vernon was a bit slow in handing it over. He finally did, grumbling about how many more times will he need to do so.
"Ah, the Dursleys." She said, after scanning the first line. "Your seats are over here." She led them to three seats that were set away from the rest. "Please sit. The other guests should start to arrive soon. The reading will begin when everyone is here." Turning away abruptly, she returned to her station by the door to await the next guest.
Petunia sniffed in her direction, "How rude. I do hope this will not last too long. I have better things to be doing." A thought occurred to her. "Vernon, dear, why do you think that every time one of these . . . people saw our name on that letter, their attitude towards us changed?"
Vernon's synapses ground away at that for a while. "Don't know, dear. That boy probably spreading lies about us among his kind."
"Or perhaps that 'boy', as you so eloquently put it, simply warned them that you were a bunch of sadistic, magic hating muggles, and that they could expect nothing but trouble from you. Doesn't that seem more likely? Hmmm!" Whispered a gravelly voice in his ear. Dudley squealed, Petunia screamed and Vernon swore as a gnarled stump of a man appeared out of nowhere beside them. The elder Dursley started using even nastier words as he began to recognise the other man. He calmly removed and folded his invisibility cloak as he waited for Vernon to wind down.
"I recognise you! Your-"
"Mad-eye Moody is the name, you enormous prat. I'm here to make sure that you, your shrew of a wife and that large bag of lard you call a son behave yourself while you're in this room." Advancing on them, he drew his wand.
"Because, while you three never gave a rats-arse about the life entrusted to you, he was someone special to the people who are about to fill this room. And to the rest of the wizarding world, he was a symbol of hope. That good can triumph over evil. That there are reasons to keep that hope alive. That for all the crappiness in this world, there are still people worth trusting, worth believing in, worth knowing."
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued, "So, if you harbour any thoughts or desires about disrupting today's reading, I suggest you keep them firmly to yourselves. If you find you can't, remember this: you are spending your afternoon with a room of wizards who cared deeply for young Harry. Most of them will have no hesitation about trying to outdo each other in casting the nastiest jinxes and curses they know in your direction if you give them even the slightest excuse." Stepping in so that there was only an inch between them, he whispered, "Because we all know the truth about how you raised him." Satisfied that he had made his point thoroughly, he gave them one last glare before heading over to the buffet to start sniffing the food for any sort of toxins.
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A short time later, voices could be heard coming closer to the door. The noise climaxed with an explosion of red hair spilling into the room. Miss Tycks hurriedly slipped into her robes as Mr. Weasley attempted to explain just who they were. Mrs. Weasley read the riot act to her most troublesome children while keeping all of them out of the way of any other guests who might show up just then.
"Fred! George! I don't care that you now run your own business and are no longer living under my roof. You will find you're not to old to be put over my knee if you don't act with a proper sense of decorum while we are in this room." Taking note of the layout and the column as she looked around, she continued in a hushed tone, "We are here to listen to poor Harry's final wishes." A tear started to form in the corner of her eye. "Do not embarrass our family in any way. Do you understand?" She looked at them both sternly until they nodded.
Ginny hugged her mother's arm to get her attention. "They will behave, mum. All that on the way over here was just their way of coping, that's all. Harry was their friend, too." She only hesitated a little saying his name. Molly noticed this and drew her into a hug with a sigh. "I know, poppet. I just . . . want this afternoon to go off without a hitch, that's all."
"Might be harder to do that than you think, mum." Ron spoke up for the first time, directing everyone's attention across the room at the Dursleys.
"Oohhh, look who it is, George. D'you think Dudders'd be interested in another toffee?" Fred said with a predatory grin on his face, one matched by his twin.
Ginny quickly interjected herself between them and their prey and spoke up before her mother could get a word in.
"Any other time I'd say have it. Especially after some of the things he told me about them. But not today, not here, and not now. Please? For me?"
Privately, they both thought that Harry would be egging them on from where ever he was now, but they relented. "For you, sis." They said reluctantly in unison. "Wonder what they're doing here?"
"No one gets in here without a letter, son, so it's safe to assume that they were invited." Mr. Weasley stated as he re-joined his family. His children looked at him with disbelief, then turned to Miss Tycks for confirmation. When she nodded in agreement they all looked at each other and shook their heads, wondering what their friend was hoping to accomplish by this.
"Maybe he's got a surprise in store for them?" Was the only conclusion they came to.
"Ah, Alastor, Everything to your liking?" Arthur asked the rooms only other occupant as he came stalking over to them.
"It'll do." He admitted reluctantly. "They run a pretty tight operation here, this lot. Don't try to create more business by letting in nasty surprises during a ceremony. Professional."
Miss Tycks looked pleased by this statement, knowing that it was as close to giving a compliment as Mad-eye would ever get.
"Mr. Weasley, your family can be seated anywhere in the front row. Excuse me." She threw over her shoulder as she returned to the entrance to greet the next arrivals. As soon as Ron saw who they were, he excused himself and walked over. "Hullo, Hermoine." He said softly.
She turned quickly at the sound of his voice and threw her arms around his neck, drawing him into a fierce embrace that he returned with equal vigour. "Oh, Ron!" She sobbed and babbled into his ear. "I'm sorry I haven't been in contact since the funeral It's been so hectic I didn't mean to ignore you I was just overwhelmed with everything that's happened I'm sorry I'm sorry I did get your letters I just I can't I couldn't stop thinking my brain won't shut up I mmph . . . "
Remembering what worked the last time she got this way, Ron kissed her. Holding his lips to hers longer than even bad manners would dictate, he finally drew back and gazed lovingly into her eyes. "Better?"
"Much!" She breathed out dreamily. Upon hearing a polite cough from behind her, she went bright pink. Turning within the circle of his arms, she introduced him to her companions, "Mum, dad, this is Ronald Weasley, the boy from school I told you about."
Ron let her go reluctantly and extended his hand towards her father. "How do you do, sir? I wish we could have been introduced under better circumstances." Mr. Granger looked the lanky boy up and down before accepting the outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, too. Finally." He replied, giving his daughter a significant glance.
"Behave, you." Admonished his wife as she swept in to shake hands with Ron also. "So, you were in the same year as our Hermoine, as well as being Prefect of your house. Is that how you met?" She enquired gently.
Ignoring the exasperated sigh coming from his girlfriend, Ron answered, "Actually, all three of us met and became best friends during our first year. We took some of the same classes but I was a distant third behind Harry and your daughter."
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned and fell into his girlfriends brown eyes. "Nonsense. We were equals. Especially at the end, when it counted." She said softly.
"Truer words have never been spoken. Listen to her, Ron, and believe." Remus Lupin said as he and Tonks joined the group.
"Yeah, what 'e said, Ron. Wotcher, 'Moine. 'Ow you doin'?"
"Better."
"Take it slow, give it time. These wounds will heal. You'll see." Remus said before introducing himself to Hermoine's parents.
"Come on, you lot. We're 'olding up the line. Let's get to our seats." Tonks demanded as she dragged Remus off.
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As the number of guests arriving and taking their seats increased, the Dursleys wished more and more that they had left well enough alone and stayed away. While a small minority threw confused looks at the trio of muggles sitting rigidly in the corner, most of them knew who they were, one way or another. And they all had the same thoughts showing on their faces: "The Dursleys! What the hell are they doing here? Is this a joke! I wonder what Harry has planned for them."
The occasional evil smirk and dirty chuckle sent their way at the thought of what may be in store for them, needless to say, did not improve the Dursleys peace of mind.
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"So dad, do you know what's going to happen in here?" George asked. "I mean, why the pillar if it's a will being read. Wouldn't a desk or lectern be better for that sort of thing?"
Giving his wife a brief glance, Arthur answered slowly, "I can't say for sure, son. From the layout, it looks like what poor Harry has planned is something that hasn't been done since before the dark times began. Even then, it was only the rich and pretentious who usually went in for this sort of thing."
"What do you mean, Mr. Weasley? Why has it been so long since . . . whatever this is, last happened?" Asked Hermoine.
"Well, the process involved in setting something like this up is very time and magic intensive. Plus, during the reign of the Death-eaters, a ceremony like this, for the person who could afford to do it, well . . . lets just say that it would have been very easy and tempting for the Dark lord's servants to break in and put the whole room under the Imperious Curse."
Everyone shuddered at that thought. "Rumour has it that they did try once or twice in the early days, and so it sort of fell from favour as a way to say goodbye."
The children were silent for a moment. "But, what's going to happen in here?" Ron finally asked.
Arthur opened his mouth to answer when Molly shushed him. "Be patient. You'll see." Her expression softened as her thoughts turned towards what was going to happen. "I can guess why he's doing it this way. It's kind of sweet, really."
Realising that the senior Weasleys were not going to be forthcoming with a satisfactory explanation, the children began to look around for a more receptive source of information when Miss Tycks stepped in front of the pillar and asked for everyone's attention.
"Welcome to you all on this day. I thank you for your decision to attend, as would Harry. For those of you who have not attended a ceremony like this before, a quick reminder of our guidelines: please remain in your seats unless otherwise instructed, talking is to be kept to a minimum and leaving before the ceremony is concluded will be difficult, as the room will be sealed to prevent an incursion from the outside. For your security." She added pointedly, as some of the guests forcefully queried that last. "We begin in five minutes, so if these guidelines are not to your liking, please feel free to use this time to make your way to the exit. Thank you." Giving one last glance around the room, she turned and walked through the doorway leading into the back room.
While some of the guests grumbled about the restrictions, it should be noted that none of them actually got up and left. Not even the Dursleys.
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Presently, Miss Tycks returned, carrying a medium-sized ornate box in her arms. A quiet murmur swept around the room as she placed it on the table and, withdrawing a key from her pocket, opened its doors wide. Reaching in, she carefully withdrew an object from inside and placed it on the pillow. Taking her hands away, the object was revealed to be a jewel. Egg-shaped, it was the colour of a black opal, with swirls and flecks of emerald green, the colour of Harry's eyes, spun through it.
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"Oh wow!"
"It's beautiful!"
"Humph. Bit over the top, if you want my opinion."
"Oh shush. Considering how it ended for him-"
"Quiet. It's starting."
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Taking her wand out and waving it around the room to dim the lights, Miss Tycks spoke in a soft voice, "We are gathered here out of respect for Harry James Potter. In accordance with his wishes, we will listen as he says his final words to us, and receive the tokens of his life that he gives to us, of his own free will." Looking towards the Weasleys, she continued, "It is a tradition here that those closest to the departed begin the ceremony by touching the jewel to activate it. Ronald Weasley, Hermoine Granger, Ginevra Weasley. Please step forward."
Prodded by the other Weasleys and reassured by River's smile, they stood up and walked over to the column. Damp eyes showed how proud they were that their friend had chosen them. They looked at each other and counted under their breath, "Three, two, one." Three hands were laid on the jewel's surface, gently. At that touch, it began to glow brightly from within. Stepping back and returning to their seats, an image had formed by the time they were comfortable. Hovering over the column and standing one metre tall, Harry Potter looked over the assembled group and smiled. He was dressed in Gryffindor house robes, his hair, a mess as always, and a bittersweet expression gracing his features.
"Hello everyone. If you are seeing this, then two preconditions have been met. One, obviously, is that I died during an upcoming battle. The second, is that I succeeded, and Lord Voldemort is also confirmed dead."
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"Got that right." Whispered someone at the back of the room. "What those two ended up doing to each other still gives me nightmares."
"Shhh!"
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"Some of you are no doubt wondering why I chose to do this. These sort of things are normally only for the rich and obnoxious, hoping to get the last word in after they are gone." Some whispers of agreement floated around the room. "I guess . . . I knew that myself and Voldemort," another shudder went around the room at the mention of THAT name, "would eventually get it on in some big, knock-'em-down, drag-'em-out battle." He shrugged, accepting his fate. "And, when the end came, it would be bloody." Those that had been present that day shivered in agreement. "So, at the start of the school year, I decided to take steps to ensue that whatever happened to me, that would not be the way I would be remembered in the minds of my friends." He chuckled to himself. "Then, I had to look for a way." His image turned to Hermoine and smiled," You would have been proud, 'moine. I did pay attention when you explained how to research something in the library."
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"How does it, err, he know where you are?" Her father asked as he gave her a hug to comfort her.
"Magic. Shhh." She whispered back, sniffling.
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"As my friends noticed at the time, I pretty much vanished for a few weeks, digging through the books, looking for something. Eventually, I found it. After that, I got permission to look for someone to make what I needed. It wasn't easy. To cut a long story short, I begged a few favours from certain people, it's done, you can see the results before you. I found Horus, Grimm and Associates in the Daily Prophet. Their motto appealed to my sense of humour." A small wave of laughter rolled around the room.
"So, lets get on with it, shall we." Clapping his hands together and wearing an expression of the adult he would never be, he turned to Arthur and Molly. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." They nodded at his image. "The two of you gave me a sense of family that I never knew existed for me in this life. You took me in and loved me as one of your own. And I don't know if I ever said it before the end, but I love you both, as much as I love my own parents. I can never repay you for the things you did for me." They were both crying, Molly wording a silent 'your welcome' to him. "This is something I have been wanting to do since the beginning. You deserve it, and I hope you won't refuse." Miss Tycks approached and handed an envelope to each of them. "Open them." Harry encouraged.
Arthur opened his and found a letter addressed to him. He looked to his wife and found that she was nearly ready to faint. Alarmed, he leaned over to steady her, "What's wrong, dear?"
"He's, he's-" Words failed her, so she handed over the second piece of paper that was in her envelope. Reading it, he found, "He's given us the entire contents of his account at Gringotts!" he whispered in awe.
River leant in. "This function has already been paid for, Mr. Weasley. Harry took care of it, before."
"How, why, we can't, it's too much. . . " Arthur sputtered.
Harry interrupted, "As I said, it's done, it's yours, you deserve it. What you do with it now is entirely up to you." He winked. "A holiday, perhaps."
The Weasley siblings leaned in. "How much did he leave?" George said as Fred took the note. His eyes bulged and he whistled appreciatively. "Bloody hell!"
Arthur snatched it back. "Behave yourself. This is not the place."
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Apparently, the Dursleys aversion to magic did not extend to wizard money. Vernon made as if to demand they hand over whatever it was to him, seeing that they were his guardians and all, when every member of the Order that was present turned and gave them the filthiest of looks. Sweating profusely, he decided against speaking out.
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The image waited until they settled down. "To Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks." She shuddered at the mention of her name, but decided against making a fuss. "Mr. Lupin, you've always been good to me. Either with a kind word when I needed it most, or just good advice when I've asked. You've never turned me away. Tonks," She smiled at her preferred way of being addressed, "you were always bloody good company, no matter what the situation. It may not sound like much, but to me, it was. Especially this last year." He smiled. "And you make a great couple. So, with that in mind, I present you with this." River handed them both envelopes with their names on them. Waiting until Tonks' eyes went wide, he added, "It belongs back in your family. No arguments."
"Bleedin' nora, I can't. What the 'ell was 'e thinkin'. I can't accept this. It's too much." Tonks sputtered as she held the deed to number twelve, Grimauld Place in her hands.
"Yes, you can, dear." Remus replied, a bit shocked himself at Harry's generosity.
"But I can't even keep a closet tidy, 'ow the 'ell am I gonna look after a whole 'ouse?"
"You'll find a way. I'll help you."
She settled down a bit and really started to think clearly. A grin spread across her face as she gave her boyfriend a speculative look. "Really? Ready to play 'ouse with me, you dirty old man?"
He choked at that and turned red. "I am not 'old', thank you." He said with dignity as he tried to keep a straight face.
"So, your just a dirty man, then?" She replied, poking him in the ribs.
Sighing, he readied himself for some teasing later on.
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The Dursleys kept quiet, this time, not willing to provoke a room full of hostile wizards twice in five minutes.
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"To Ron," The red-headed boy straightened up at the mention of his name, "I leave you my Firebolt." Ron's jaw dropped into his lap. "Treat it well and don't do anything I wouldn't do." He finished with a wink. Miss Tycks brought it over awkwardly. Not surprisingly, a letter was attached.
"To Hermoine," She turned from her boyfriend's stunned expression to face forward. "I know you've already got one familiar, so I hope you don't mind another."
She caught on instantly. 'He wouldn't, would he?'
"I'm leaving you Hedgewig. He knows you, and he gets along well with Crookshanks, so . . . " The image shrugged. " Be kind, and comfort him. I know he'll miss me."
Miss Tycks came over and placed the owl's cage at her feet. Hedgewig looked up at her and hooted sadly. Sighing, she poked her finger through the cage wire and scratched the back of his head briefly. "Be patient," She said softly, "I'll let you out later. Okay?" The owl hooted again, as if in understanding. She placed Harry's letter to her in her robes.
Harry's image turned to the Weasley twins. "As for you two mischievous gits," They grinned at the compliment, "I have a favour to ask." Miss Tycks brought over a largish box. "Should you choose to accept your mission, inside the box you will find certain items and instructions. My task for you shouldn't be a stretch for hell-razers of your calibre, but it's right up your alley." The twins quickly scanned the instructions and started to grin nastily. "Good luck!"
"What's he want you to do?" Mrs. Weasley asked quickly. "Nothing . . . untoward, I hope."
"Don't worry, mums." Fred said with confidence.
"Just something old Harry feels is necessary." George agreed, nodding.
Despite her misgivings, Mrs. Weasley decided not to press for more information. Her intuition told her she was better off not knowing and besides, it was a last request.
"Ginny." The entire room fell quiet at her name. "I'm sorry." His image looked truly sad. "I'm sorry we didn't have a life together." Tears started to fall down her face, unnoticed. "I'm sorry we were separated so soon after we found each other." Molly hugged her daughter. "I'm sorry I never got a chance to give you my heart." Something inside her started to wither. "All I can offer you now, is this." River came over and presented her with a flat box. As she handed it over, she whispered something into Ginny's ear that caused her to pull back in surprise and shock. A quick peek inside confirmed the first part of what she had just been told. What was withering began to bloom a little.
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"So, she got his invisibility cloak." Bill said, confused.
"Oui. But ze way she reacted, zere must be somesing else comeeng." Fleur replied.
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With the big stuff out of the way, the ceremony began to flow a little faster. People were handed letters with Harry's thoughts, or quiet words of encouragement, or just bittersweet farewells. All were accompanied by a few words from Harry's image. Sadly, not everyone was there to receive them.
One such was Neville Longbottom.
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"What happened?" The image asked.
His grandmother answered; "He was taken by Bellatrix, shortly before the final battle. She tortured him with the Crutatius Curse for information on you." She gave a bitter laugh. "Must have wanted to complete her Longbottom set. This time it backfired on her, badly." She spoke proudly. "For whatever reason, she turned her back on him to soon. With his last shred of sanity, he got a hold of her wand and stabbed her through the heart with it. He then said one word." Her eyes swept the room with a proud fire. "Engorgio!"
"When we finally found him, he was surrounded by entrails and grinning madly." Her body seemed to shrink with the weight of her next words. "He's now with his parents, at St. Mungos."
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Another was Hagrid.
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"About six weeks earlier, a sortie of Dementors, werewolves and giants came at the school through the Black Forest, probing for weaknesses around Hogwarts. Hagrid stumbled on to them while taking Gawp for a walk. He thinned their ranks considerably and put up a terrific fight, but once the Dementors managed to get their souls, they just sat there while they were torn apart. I'm sorry, Harry."
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Eventually, the ceremony started to wind up. With the last words exchanged and letters bestowed, Harry looked around the room. "From the depths of my soul, I thank you for coming today. It means a lot, that so many of you, whom I've considered friends, and more, showed up." His image looked over to the Dursleys. "I'm sure many of you are wondering why I invited my step-family." A sea of nodding heads. "I guess . . . a big part of it is I wanted them to see just how full my life was, away from them. And I don't mean that in a nasty way. Even with everything that's
happened to me, these last seven years have still been the best years of my life." He glanced around the room, briefly. "And everyone in this room had a hand in it. Even though they've never liked me, or my heritage, a small part of me wishes they could have been a part of my new life." Something unidentifiable flashed in his eyes, and was gone. "So enjoy this new day that is dawning with Voldemorts death, and think of me from time to time, but shed no tears." With one last look around the room, he faded.
"Goodbye"
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The lights came up and everyone began to rise and stretch. Miss Tycks moved forward and re-claimed the jewel, quickly placing it in a pouch. Noticing Mr. Weasley gesturing for her attention, she walked over.
"My compliments, Miss Tycks, that was a very smooth reading. What were Harry's instructions regarding the jewel, if you don't mind me asking."
She looked apologetic, but firm. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but those arrangements are confidential. You understand, I hope?"
He nodded. "Yes, yes, I understand. I just wanted to make sure it would be taken care of."
"It will be, Mr. Weasley. Set your mind at rest." Turning, she faced Ginny and leant in for a quick hug. "I'm sorry for your loss. I got to know him, a little, while he was setting all this up. He was a remarkable young man. He will be missed, by more than just those in this room."
"Thank you, Miss Tycks. For everything." Ginny replied.
"Your welcome. And call me River, okay."
"Okay." She stepped back, smiling shyly.
Straightening up and slipping on her professional mask again, River nodded to them all and returned to the ornate box. Closing it, she then took it out to the back room, returning shortly to resume her duties as host.
"So what was in your box?" Ron asked the twins.
"Mind your own business, loverboy."
"Yeah, d'you see us trying to sneak a peek at YOUR letter, Won-Won!" As one, they started going through his pockets, looking for said letter.
"Allright, ALLRIGHT! Never mind, I was just curious, okay." He yelled as he tried to fend them off.
"Well, little bro, you know what that did to the cat, don't you." They gave up, smirking. Going over to their mother, they gave her a peck on the cheek each. "Mums, we're off. Got a job to do."
"A favour to full fill."
"A duty to discharge."
"A mission to accept."
"A . . ."
Molly held up her hands to stem the verbal tide. "Boys, I get the point. Go. Do not get into trouble. Be safe. See you back at The Burrow, tonight?"
"Trouble? Us?"
"Never! See you tonight."
Walking out the door, they headed off to follow Harry's instructions.
"You okay, little sis?" Bill enquired as he and Charlie came over. "Today can't have been easy."
Ginny wiped her tears, "I'll be fine. I just . . . need time to process everything."
"Well, let us know if you need someone to let your emotions out at, we'll tie up Ron for you." Charlie offered, trying for a smile.
He got a small one. "That's okay. I don't think Hermoine would appreciate it, though."
"Ready poppet. Time to leave. See you boys at The Burrow."
Without a backward glance, Ginny followed her parents out of the room.
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The Dursleys waited until the room was empty before getting out of their chairs and leaving. Fully expecting to be accosted by any number of wizards, they held their breath until they were out of the building. Exhaling forcefully, Vernon looked back and grumbled; "What a complete waste of bloody time!"
Petunia sniffed. "At least now we know he's gone." A very VERY, faint hint of something that could possibly be taken as sadness coloured her voice. Even if he was one of . . . them, he still died a child.
"Well, time to go home." A similar tone could possibly be heard in his voice, too.
Dudley was just glad that everything would be going back to normal, permanently.
They all turned and started the long trip home.
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Eventually, the day ended.
The Burrow was alive and full. Memories and tales were being passed around, shared and exaggerated. Moreover, while an aura of melancholy was present, it did not taint the mood of warm recollection of the life they had said goodbye to today.
As soon as she could, Ginny slipped away quietly and went to her room. Locking the door, she reached into her pocket and removed the pouch that River had slipped in there during the hug. Taking out the jewel, she held it in both hands and pressed it to her lips. Kissing his final gift to her, she sighed as she let him go, finally.
"Thank you, Harry. You will always have a place in my heart."
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With the sun setting over Privet Drive, three weary figures could be seen entering the house with the number Four. Shortly, a wide variety of screams, shouts and curses could be heard coming from the inside. One of the reasons for this had to do with the two new pictures hanging over the fireplace. In one, two adults who were obviously a couple, held between them a happy, smiling infant. They grinned proudly at each other and at the child between them before turning their gaze to the other photo beside them. The occupants of this photo were on a picnic, somewhere. Two couples were sharing a rug, with both boys hugging their girlfriends tightly. The girls squirmed enthusiastically inside the embrace. From time to time, they would turn and wave to the other photo, and to the Dursleys, who were changing colours alarmingly as they tried to remove the photos. For this was the other reason for all the shouting. Both photos were attached to the wall with a very strong sticking charm, supplied thoughtfully by the Weasley twins. Unless they tore down the house around the fireplace, those pictures were not going anywhere without magic.
All in all, a rather nasty thing to do, really.
But not entirely undeserved.
THE END
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Notes: I know, I know, a bit of a sucky way to tie off the story, but I ran out of ideas.
Well, that's it. Something a bit out of my normal genre. I'm in more of an EVAfic mode at the moment, so I hope you all like this one-shot, dear reader. R&R would be greatly appreciated.