I'd just like to briefly explain that if you find any errors within what I have written I do apologize. I don't have a beta and I have very little time to go over my work. Any feedback is always appreciated.
It was a startling clear night, the air warm and brisk as two men strolled through the grounds of a castle. Behind them they could still hear the cheerful voice of a giant man who was walking towards a small hut, situated on the edge of a forest. He seemed to be singing a song that didn't appear to make much sense but involved him throwing his arms in the air and cheering every few sentences. As they turned to watch the giant tipped the large flagon in his hands up and drained the last of it. Staggering even more he winded his way to his door and half walked, half collapsed through it The two men exchanged mischievous grins and kept walking.
"Do you think we should have helped him into bed?" one asked the other. The other man shook his head and laughed.
"What help could we really be? I've had Hagrid fall on me once before, there's absolutely no way I'm risking it again". They both laughed and continued walking. The first man who spoke ran his fingers through his short brown hair and gave a tired sigh. As he moved the moonlight glinted off of the Head of House badge pinned to his chest, depicting a roaring lion and the words 'Gryffindor'.
"Good party eh Harry?" he said, regarding the man who walked silently beside him. The man looked at him with a grin, his ever so green eyes filled with laughter. Almost unconsciously it seemed, the man reached up and rubbed at the lightening shaped scar on his forehead, the lasting testimony to a terrible curse inflicted on him many years ago.
"Which part? The point where Ron accidentally set fire to himself, or where George and Fred managed to get all the portraits believing that Fred had somehow managed to contract a case of painted spattergroit and would infect them all?" As Neville laughed, Harry's smile turned slightly wistful. Although the sight of Fred's portrait running rampant through all the portraits in Hogwarts, moaning and holding out boiled covered hands as his twin ran through the corridors ahead of him yelling "Run! His contagious! Lookout ahead!" had had them all in fits of laughter he couldn't help but remember a time when it had been a flesh and blood Fred that had caused such havoc.
As though sensing the change in Harry's mood the other man sobered up, looking ahead. Their path, which had originally been headed towards the castle gates, had altered slightly. With a surge of understanding Neville Longbottom knew where they were heading, the same place Harry visited every year on this day, the day they celebrated the reopening of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tomorrow the grounds would be full of children, eager to begin their first day or continuing on with their lessons from last year but tonight was a night for those who remembered a darker time to gather. Tonight was the night that those who had survived the Battle for Hogwarts got together on the grounds of the battlefield to remember and rejoice that they had attained victory over the most evil dark wizard ever known, Lord Voldermort.
Ahead of them lay the great lake, still and silent. Reflected within its surface were two coffins separated by a large white pillar. Neville shifted his gaze from the reflections to the monuments themselves. The two coffins were made from white marble, placed in positions of prominence along the lakes edges, their simple construction indicating dignity and grace. The white pillar was covered in carvings of names and faces, a long list that reached fully along its length. At the very bottom of the pillar words proclaimed "Those lost Heroes who stood here and fought for Hogwarts and Freedom." Neville slowed as they neared, allowing Harry to continue on by himself, respectful for the privacy Harry may need at this moment.
Harry continued along the lake till he reached the first coffin. A plaque at its foot proclaimed: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, beloved headmaster of Hogwarts, May He Never Leave These Halls. Carved in curly writing further down the plaque a simple note said 'the greatest power in the world is love. So we loved him and so he loved us'. Harry smiled and looked at the coffins lid. Slowly before his eyes the slight swirling marble patterns resolved themselves into the sleeping peaceful form of Albus Dumbledore, carve right into the coffins roof, visible only when gazed at. For a moment Harry stood there soaking in the features of Dumbledore, his greatest ally and champion then he moved on.
He walked past the giant pillar and over to the other coffin which at his gaze slowly altered itself to form the sleeping features of a man with long, rather greasy looking hair. His face in repose looked more peaceful then Harry had ever remembered it looking in life. Truly he was beyond all the pain and heartache he had suffered now. Harry's eyes slid down the coffin to the plaque at the bottom and he read: Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Hero of the Second Dark Ages. Once again a little further down the plaque a curly script read 'may we ever strive for his courage and strength'.
After a moment Harry indicated his head at the carved mans face in a bow of respect and stepped back. Now, finally, he turned towards the large pillar. As he looked over it he felt a slight tightening in his throat. All along its length were the names of those that had died in the Battle of Hogwarts and against each shining name a picture beamed out at him, many smiling up at the camera, none with any idea of the fate that awaited them. For a moment more he hesitated then he steeled himself for what he knew he must do, what he did every year to remember them and what they had done for him so long ago. Trembling slightly he reached out a finger and touched the very first name inscribed.
At his touch a light lit up and a figure appeared at the very top of the pillar. Grinning broadly a red haired figure looked down upon him, the words "Frederick Fabian Weasley" glowing under his image. As Harry looked up at him the figure gave a familiar mischievous smile and with a hint of laughter in his voice said "What's the point of doing it if it's not fun? Kicking Voldies arse is going to be the best prank ever!"
Still laughing the figure glowed brighter for a moment, and then the memory faded, for that was the special spell cast on each name carved into the tribute pillar. At the touch of someone's finger a memory chosen by someone close to the fallen would appear, showing a glimpse of exactly what the person had been like, so they would truly never be forgotten. This particular memory had naturally been chosen by Fred Weasleys twin George, for none had been closer to him. George had said at the time that he picked this memory as it showed his twins true nature, fearless but full of fun. The portrait of Fred that George constantly carried with him on his watch had agreed fully with the choice and proclaimed further that it was a good thing it was him on there and not George as "he was always the handsome one. If it had of been George's ugly mug, no one would have wanted to see anyone else incase they were all like that".
Taking a deep breath Harry ran his finger over the next name in line and watched as the memory activated. Gradually he went down the list, some people he knew well, some hardly at all but he watched them all. This was his own special tribute to them. There were occasions however when the memories were quite painful and he had had to wait quite a few moments to get himself under control after a memory lit up of a young blond boy who had exclaimed eagerly "Hogwarts is the best place ever Dad! And Harry Potter he saved my life! I cant wait to go back with Dennis next year…"
Further and further down the line his finger traveled till it halted right above a name proclaiming 'Remus John Lupin' beside a picture of a rather shabbily dressed wizard with graying hair. The nights unusually clear sky meant that the pillar was better lit by the moonlight then it had been in many years, so he could clearly see what he hadn't seen before. There next to the writing were faded marks as though someone had repeatedly placed their fingers on that spot. Looking down to the next name in line, Nymphadora Tonks, Harry saw that the same mark existed there. The lump in Harry's throat grew and in his minds eye he suddenly had a vision of young boy with ever changing hair constantly placing his fingers over these names, just to catch a glimpse of his parents. He glanced over his shoulder where Neville stood silently watching. Understanding Harry's conclusion Neville nodded confirmation.
"Teddy has been sneaking out here after dark for as long as he has been going to Hogwarts." He gave a small smile, "He almost got caught by Filch so many times that I ended up giving him a pass allowing him to go at night whenever he wanted, as long as he was back by nine…" his voice faded and he looked down at the ground. When he next spoke it was though he was having difficulty forming the words through a throat suddenly gone tight. "When he returns.. each time he returned his hair.. it was grey streaked brown Harry. He always returned with Lupins hair".
Harry blinked eyes that had gone suddenly watery and looked away. For a long moment he gazed over the lake, waiting for his emotions to calm. Teddy, Harry felt a surge of sympathy and affection for his godson. He understand all too well how it felt to grow up without your parents, which was why on Teddys eleventh birthday Harry had given him a photo album full of pictures of his parents, just as Hagrid had during Harry's first year. Although Teddy, unlike Harry, had grown up knowing who his parents were and seeing their pictures around his Grandmothers and Harrys houses Harry knew all too well how important it was to have something of your parents that was completely your own.
At last Harry looked back down at the pillar and placed a gentle hand exactly in the faded smudge marks of a finger much smaller then his own. The memory lit up and the image of Remus Lupin gazed upon Harry, his eyes alight with a joy Harry had rarely glimpsed in real life. "It's ironic really. I have spent my entire life in fear and resignation, believing that this would be all my life had to offer, that I would never get to experience anything but misery and pain. Now we are living in a dark age once more, struggling against an evil that I have no idea if we will ever beat and I look at Dora and Teddy and all I can feel is joy and hope". His image laughed. "I'm 39 years old and I've suddenly realized that I'm an optimist. And it's all because of them…" The memory faded.
Harry smiled through the bitter pain that filled his heart. The memory had been supplied by Bill Weasley who had become Lupins best friend during the dark ages, someone who appreciated his pain as a werewolf by the troubles he experienced as a side-effect from his own werewolf mauling. Slowly Harrys finger slipped down to the Nymphadora Tonks name, his finger once more resting on old smudge marks. An image filled the air of a white-haired trembling Tonks, her face stressed and agonized. "I love him mum. Don't you understand? He and Teddy, they are my everything! And I will take on everyone from Belliatrix to You-Know-Who himself to protect them from ever being harmed!" This memory had been given over by Tonks mum Andromeda, taken from the very night Tonks had died. Afterwards Andromeda had been heard to say that it was only at this point did she truly understand the connection between her daughter and the man she married, the first time she had ever talked about Remus with affection, and a tinge of regret.
Now did Harry weep, the tears of pain and regret burning like fire down his cheeks. For long moments he crouched there, by the pillar until finally he was able to halt his tears, wiping his cheeks clean with his hands. Fumbling slightly he removed his glasses and cleaned them on his robes for they had fogged up to much for him to see clearly. Shoving them back on he took a ragged breath and continued on, moving his finger down the line, halting to watch the memory, then moving on to the next one.
Names of old friends slipped by, memory after memory unfolded in front of him till at last he was down to the very last name. He smiled slightly as he stared down at the single syllable name. Its owner had not died at Hogwarts, but had died for it, for him. He was the one who had argued for its placement and the memory it contained was his own.
He ran his finger across the name and gazed up at the memory that formed. It was a short memory, simple but to Harry it had always spoken most of all of everything they had struggled and fought for, everything that the people intoned on the pillar had stood for. The memory that lit up was that of a house elf and the name scrolled under it simply read "Dobby". For a moment the Harry locked gaze with the green eyes of the elf then the memory said in a voice that could not be described as anything beyond pure joy, "Dobby is FREE".
Harry smiled to himself, filled for a moment with the memory of past triumphs as the memory in front of him slowly faded from sight. After a few moments the sound of Neville shifting his stance behind him brought Harry back to the present and he turned round and grinned at his old companion. Now that Harry was finished Neville approached him and stood by his side gazing up at the monument.
"I will never forget that night," he said, his voice low. Harry grinned at him and for a moment Neville was struck anew by the carefree look in his brilliant green eyes. For as long as Neville had known him at Hogwarts Harrys eyes had always contained a hint of darker knowledge, a pain and determination that never eased. Now, his great task done, Harry's eyes reflected the content and happiness he had found for himself, a happiness he shared with everyone he met.
"You were amazing Neville" Harry said, great affection reflected in his voice. Neville laughed and they started to continue their walk, heading towards the castle grounds gates.
"Not as good as you Harry," and he grinned, "you big fakeo!" Harry laughed too at the memory of how he had tricked Voldermort and his supporters into thinking he was dead (although it hadn't been funny then) and they walked in companionable silence for many minutes. At last, at the gates, Neville turned to Harry. "Well I guess I won't be seeing you till Christmas Harry". He shook his head with fake despair, "Undoubtedly to give you the usual report on what your marauder son and young Fred have gotten up to this year"
Harry grinned, "Albus starts this year as well".
Neville looked surprised. "Well so he does! I'd quite forgotten" and he reddened slightly.
Harry winked mischievously, "even though your own son starts this year and he's the same age as Al?" Neville's memory, although quite good compared to when he was young, was still notorious for failing him at the oddest times.
Neville laughed. "You know me Harry". For a moment more they stood regarding each other then Harry said,
"Well, bye then Neville"
"Seeya Harry". And they shook hands, grinning slightly. Turning Neville strode off down the road towards Hogsmeade. Pulling out his wand he abruptly turned on the spot and disappeared with a loud CRACK!
Shaking his head in amusement Harry turned towards the gate, gazing up at the castle on the very peak of the mountain once more. After a long moment he turned away and pulled out his own wand, muttering Revello! A red X mark appeared floating in the middle of the air and Harry hurried towards it. Reaching out he appeared to grasp thin air and with a yank pulled off his old invisibility cloak to reveal a giant black motorbike, shining in the moonlight.
The motorbike had once belonged to his Godfather and had been given to him many Christmas's ago by his father-in-law who had repaired it (with a few improvements) after Harry had driven it into the ground while trying to avoid the attacks of Deatheaters (Lord Voldermorts supporters), just before he turned seventeen. Mounting it he pulled on his helmet and turned the bike on by tapping it with his wand. At its loud roar he quickly pressed a yellow button and the bike was silenced by a silencing charm. Looking around for any witnesses he pressed a blue button and disappeared from sight. Grinning to himself Harry pressed the accelerator and the bike took off, literally. The most special aspect of his Godfathers motorbike was its ability to fly. Turning in the air Harry took one more look at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry then turned his bike North and headed for home.