Disclaimer: Not mine. JK Rowling's.

A/N: I wrote this just after Deathly Hallows but I guess I forgot about it. I remember thinking it wasn't good enough... but I like it now.

Aftermath

Not until two years after Lord Voldemort's defeat did Harry realize what he had been forgetting to do.

At the end, he had been so sure he had dealt with everything: killed the villain, fell in love with the perfect girl, moved back to Godric's Hollow and live in his old home, and even finally began to accept the deaths of all those he had loved, all those that had fought valiantly to save their world.

But one day, whilst fighting viciously against a particularly stubborn weed in the backyard he had been trying desperately to tidy up, the thought struck him so hard and so suddenly that he let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled back blindly, falling with a thump onto his back.

For several moments Harry watched the sky, a light, clear blue. There were no clouds, and a warm breeze blew past him. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. How had he not thought of it? It had run across his mind—very briefly—at the funeral of Lupin. Remembering it still brought a stab of pain to Harry, but he tried to ignore the sudden twist of his stomach as he continued to think.

Lupin wasn't the only one who had fought bravely that night; but everyone had had proper burial, proper mourning from friends and family in front of a tombstone that marked where they lay.

Except Sirius.

Sirius had also died in battle. Where was his grave? Harry knew there had been something he was forgetting. Dread filled his entire being at the thought of what he would have to do; it would dredge up unwanted memories of the past, of stabbing guilt and sadness and never-ending loneliness. But he realized now that it had to be done.

"It's beautiful, Harry."

"You think so? It looks a little… pathetic, really."

"No it doesn't! Why would you say that?"

"Because—well, look!" Harry swept a hand over the small silver tombstone. It was plain but sturdy, square and almost handsome. Harry thought it had resembled Sirius a little, but now that he looked at it, it was a horrible representation of his godfather. "This—this rock can't tell anyone what he was like! How brave he was, how reckless, how much he cared for his friends…" Harry's eyes shifted over to the pearl white tombstone that lay beside Sirius'. Friend beside friend, although Sirius' body was truly lost somewhere where Harry couldn't reach him.

"Harry? You there?" A slim hand tugged at his arm. Harry looked away from the tombstone that seemed to be staring at him, daring him to object to it even more. He ripped his gaze away from it to look over into the concerned eyes of Ginny Weasley.

"Y--Yea," Harry managed in a strangled voice.

"I think it's brilliant you're doing something like this for Sirius," Ginny said gently, resting her head against his shoulder as she looked at grave for Sirius. "I think he'd appreciate it."

Harry pondered her words as he stared at the inscription written in firm, capital letters. Would Sirius really appreciate it? Or would he laugh derisively at Harry, thinking such sentimental things were useless?

No, he decided. Sirius would be happy that Harry had gone to the trouble of setting this up, of giving the world sometime to remember Sirius Black by. Something not exactly good, but not anything that continued the 'he's an escaped convict!' lie.

"I especially like the last bit," Ginny told him, and Harry could sense a hint of a smile in her voice. His eyes slid down to the words he had chosen to immortalize Sirius:

There Are Things Worth Dying For

"His own words," whispered Harry, and he hadn't thought Ginny heard him until he felt a reassuring squeeze from her hand into his.

"He did them proud," Ginny agreed.