Title/Link: The Beginning of the End
Team: Tutshill Tornadoes
Position: Chaser 3
A/N: Welcome to the ninth round of The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition! In this round, players will be, playingwith the story we all know so well.
Guideline:
What if Harry Potter had died in the forest at the end of Deathly Hollows?
Prompts:
1. Blanket
3. Winter Winds
15. Full Moon
Details: 1000 – 3000 WORDS. Rated T
(1334 words)
AU
Cold water stung her quickly pinking cheeks. She breathed heavily hunched over a porcelain sink, clutching the sides for support. She couldn't focus, she couldn't function and she didn't think she could go out there and give the eulogy. Not just any eulogy, the eulogy of her best friend, her first friend, her surrogate brother. She never once pictured a life without Harry in it, he had this game he played with death, more like a dance, both fighting to lead. She supposed death had his cold callous hands around Harry and pulled him into submission, leading him into the doors of the afterlife. She let out a gasp, clutching her fist until her knuckles turned white. It had been four months since the battle and any reminder of Harry was enough for her to descend back into her depression, back into her tunnel of darkness and sorrow. How could she deliver the eulogy in front of any able body wizard? It wasn't even fair that his funeral was public, it wasn't fair at all, Harry wouldn't want it like that, he wouldn't want everyone to be able to hear and see his life. Harry never thought of himself as hero by choice, it was his duty, if he didn't do something no one would. Hermione recalled the countless occasions when these people turned their backs on Harry and now they wanted to be at his funeral crying over a death of someone they knew nothing about? She was just so upset, so lost and confused. Usually Harry would figure something out, or even her, or maybe even lady luck! But alas, Harry was dead (she choked out a sob) and she and Ron were of the few people knew how he was turning in his grave.
It was for moral, the ministry had claimed. It would take a while before Shacklebot came into office and the Wizengamot decided that this open funeral would be what needed to unify the remaining wizard, they needed closure. Bollucks, she recalled Mrs. Weasley claiming through her tears, what about Harry's wants and needs? They had been ignored for the majority of his life and even in death they could not grant him peace and quiet. The friends and family of Harry James Potter were allowed a private burial of his body but the funeral was open to everyone, every living wizard able bodied enemy turned friend, they were all out there. They were all sitting in the Quidditch stadium, the only place large enough for everyone to be at once though there were still others outside, circling the walls, hoping for an inch of room to see the funeral. Hermione burst out into laughter, tears streaming gallantly down her face. This was a joke of some sort, Harry wasn't really dead, he'd jump out any second and put an end to this mockery.
He was physically gone, but Harry would never leave, he left such a mark on this world that it would be foolhardy to think he could be forgotten. She just hoped those that remembered him would know him for who he really was. Satisifed with herself, Hermione gathered her bearings, washed her face, and adjusted her Gryffindor robes. It was Harry's favourite place on earth, they were going to burry him at Hogwarts after this show boating funeral at the Quidditch Stadium. She scowled to herself before shaking her head and turning away from the mirror.
It was eerily silent as she slid onto a loaned broom flying up to the center of the field surrounded by the Weasley family and the solemn faces of Dumbledore's Army, those that survived anyway. Luna was in front of everyone, hovering on a white broom dressed in silver. Hermione couldn't help but smile recalling how fond of Luna's ability to be herself made Harry appreciate their friendship even more. It was fitting that she would host the funeral.
She took her spot beside Luna and looked around for her fiancée not seeing any indication that he would arrive. Hermione looked out at the sea of black robes, the sea of crying faces. A numbness settled over her as she realized that they were upset over Harry, reminding her that she would never be able to nag him to do his homework again. Slowly, little drops of snow floated down from the glaring gray sky as wind began to pick up and howl about. Just as fitting since the wizarding world lost its security blanket, it was doomed to be unprotected by the harsh elements of weather, of reality.
"Good morning strangers, acquaintances and mourners," Luna started off, her voice echoed and vibrated through the stadium and Hermione wondered if being right beside Luna as she discussed her lost friend would let her grief get the best of her and lose grip on the broom. Luna had such a way with words… "It seems our first speaker is running a little late therefore I shall begin the funeral of Harry James Potter," An increase and unified blowing of the nose followed and Hermione clutched the broom handle hoping to refute the urge to blast the strangers away. It was eerie how still everyone was, quiet, you could hear a bee buzz if it were warm enough to allow such a feat. Hermione looked around, amazed at how little platinum blonde Luna hovering in her silver robes and white broom could command such attention. The stillness made her heart thud loudly in her chest, the thuds throbbing her throat and making nearly impossible for Hermione to breathe. As she gathered herself, as she could see from her peripheral vision Luna's sparkling blue eyes glance around the crowd she knew then that she would be alright. The people beside her knew Harry, knew what he wanted and knew that they would find some way to exist, if at all…
"On a cusp of a full moon a little child was doomed,
To have the weight of the world on his chest and his head,"
Luna's voice filled the silence as if it were a boat gliding through water, so effortless, so tranquil and clear, it rippled softly on the observing crowd. Her high voice allowed such a harmony with nature as it was so melodious. Hermione found herself closing her eyes and letting Luna's watery voice wash over her.
"With no loving parents and comforting sentiments
The boy turned to magic to cure his loneliness instead.
Along the way he met friends who would stay
By his side when he was forced to gamble with death.
The world wanted his affections and constant protection
Cast him aside (at the drop of a dime) with no fear of regret.
He is kind, selfless, a little shy and reckless
An unusual hero less we forget,
His bravery and luck, would never obstruct
His determination to heal guided by his sense of faith.
A young man who could never let his fears escape,
A young man of great stature, poise and grandeur
Did nothing but what he believed was his end
Of a bargain of life he lived not unsupervised
For he held the earth in the palms of his hands.
He was a wizard, a great one at that,
And died as boy but never a man…"
Hermione couldn't stop her broom for wobbling, wobbling down into the gathering snow at the bottom of the stadium. She landed on shaking feet and collapsed, unable to retain her sorrow. Harry didn't deserve to die, Harry deserved to live in a world he created. She looked up, seeing the affects of Luna's ode to Harry on their friends and found them unable to stay suspended in air. They descended with her, like fallen snow and sought comfort from one another, hugs, kisses, heartbreaking sobs. The wizarding world was not prepared for a world without Harry and in that very moment through teary glassy eyes they all knew that nothing would ever be the same.