The 19 Years Book 1: The Art of Healing

Chapter: 7 – Fred's Funeral

Date: June, 1998

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I have been starting to move so I have been busy working or moving in my spare time. I'm afraid my FF stories got waylaid. This move should take about 3 months or 5 months longest. I will try to get to a Barnes and Noble or Starbucks or something to post chapters when I can. But I can't promise regular updates for the next few months.

Thanks for all your reviews! I do hope you guys stick with me for the coming months!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters!

Funeral after funeral. And this was only the start. Harry was loath to do it, but it had to be done. He wanted to attend all the funerals he could as he was as much responsible for these people's deaths as the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Right now, Harry stood with the other Weasleys. They were gathered in the orchard where he and the other Weasleys had played pick-up games of Quidditch so many times before. Molly and Arthur had decided to lay their son to rest there, in one of his favorite spots at the family home.

As they stood there, listening to the prayer for Fred's soul, Harry couldn't help thinking about the many times he had encountered Fred Weasley. The one thing that he kept coming back to was how many times Harry had seen Fred smiling. There were probably only three or four times that Harry had ever seen him without that grin. As the wizard who was leading the service called for a moment of silence before the speeches were to start, Harry couldn't help but think back to the time when the twins had tried to send him a toilet back in first year after the Stone fiasco. A small grin spread across his face and his shoulders shook slightly as he stifled his chuckles.

"What are you laughing about Harry?" Hermione whispered next to him, thinking it was a strange reaction.

"About the time the twins sent me a toilet in first year after the Stone adventure." Harry whispered back.

Ginny stifled a giggle and looked at Harry. "Did they really?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, I never saw it though. Madame Pomfrey confiscated it under the pretext of being unsanitary."

"She didn't!" Ron leaned forward to look at Harry. He had a mortified look on his face. "You never got their present then?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. I'm sure it was a grand toilet though."

"It was. They bewitched it to sing and turned it a gold color. Fred said that you deserved a real throne for you would be royalty around Hogwarts after that." Ron explained in a whisper. He had been there when they were bewitching the toilet.

Harry started to really laugh at that and Hermione even cracked a smile.

"Remember when they walked around in front of you in second year yelling look out for the Heir of Slytherin?" Ron reminisced.

"Merlin yes!" Harry nodded as his laughter died. "That was so bloody annoying. They made me late for class and finally Professor McGonagall told them to leave me be or risk getting detention." Harry smiled and Ginny smirked.

They were no longer whispering and several people were looking around at them with mortified expressions, Molly one of them.

"What are you doing?" She hissed at them. "Fred's dead, you should be crying, not laughing!"

"Mum, Fred wouldn't have wanted us to cry for him." Ginny told her. "He lived his life laughing, and he would want us to remember him with laughter." She turned to Harry as Molly tried to process that. "Do you remember that valentine you received in your second year?" Harry nodded. "Well I have to admit I did write it but the twins were the ones who were actually sent the card."

Ron howled in laughter and Harry just looked at Ginny mortified. "You wrote it?"

"Yeah." She blushed and looked at her feet.

Harry grinned after a second and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Well those were some bloody good lyrics." He started to laugh as her blush became a deeper red.

"I'll always remember their greatest prank in our fifth year though." Ron said.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Umbridge deserved what she got. They were excellent."

Harry nodded in agreement too. "Those fireworks were amazing. They had Umbridge running around the school and by the end of the day she was covered in soot, had singe marks in her hair, and was in a downright foul mood."

Harry noticed George had a slight grin on his face when he heard about the effects that they had on Umbridge after they had made their dramatic exit. Soon, everyone was sharing a story they had about either Fred, or the twins. Each had humor or showed a side of the twins that wasn't often seen. McGonagall told two stories. One was the best prank she thought they had pulled off, which was in their second year, and one was of a time where they helped a second year deal with Umbridge and her punishments. The twins had actually taken the blame for the incident which had pissed off the toad, keeping the second year away from Umbridge and her blood quill.

Eventually, the stories were told, the condolences were expressed, and people were trickling home. Harry returned to Hogwarts, not wanting to impose on the Weasley's grief or able to face the dreary home much longer. Ginny and Harry hadn't discussed anything else but they were both relieved to have seen each other. She could tell that Harry was uncomfortable at the Burrow with the way the atmosphere was. She didn't blame him, though she did selfishly want him close to her. Harry regretted leaving Ginny alone, but didn't think he could take the haunted feeling that clung to him when he looked at George. Plus, almost everyone was still at the Burrow, making it very crowded. He would be one more burden on Molly and Arthur if he went there.

When Harry got back to the castle, he looked around. Hogwarts still had a long way to go, but a surprising amount was done. He made his way to the Astronomy Tower where he took a seat and watched the sun slowly sink lower in the sky. A few Threstrals wheeled around the sky, dipping in and out of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's cottage was almost completely rebuilt and Harry watched the grey smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney. The owls hooting in the distance, the lapping of waves on the shore of Black Lake, and the sounds of animals all over the grounds made their way to Harry's ears. Harry just sat there, listening to the nature surround him.

"You know, sitting there that close to the edge is making my wards go off like crazy." McGonagall said as a way of greeting.

Harry looked behind him to see her standing there, an expression of mild curiosity on her face as she regarded him. Harry noted that she didn't seem worried he was about to toss himself off the tower with interest and gratitude. "Sorry."

"Well, as long as you are not going to be jumping anytime soon, we'll just ignore them for now." McGonagall said somewhat dryly. "What are you doing up here Harry?"

"Just listening and watching." Harry answered shrugging and honestly.

"Hear anything earth shattering?" McGonagall asked with a hint of a smile.

"Just a barn owl." Harry replied grinning somewhat as well.

McGonagall chuckled and turned to leave. She had been curious to know who had been setting off the alarm up here. Now that she knew, she wasn't worried. Molly probably would have demanded that Harry back away from the edge, but she knew that Harry wasn't suicidal. He just liked places of solitude and not frequently traveled.

"Professor," Harry called out after her making her stop and turn to look at him.

"Yes?"

"I have been thinking."

"Oh dear." McGonagall deadpanned though her lips twitched in a smile.

Harry also grinned at that. But it faded as he gave voice to his thought. "A lot of people died in the war against Voldemort."

"Too many," McGonagall agreed softly but it was also a prod. Harry had lapsed into silence and she wanted to know where he was going with this.

"I was thinking that we should do something to honor them."

"We are having a memorial service here at Hogwarts in two days," McGonagall reminded him.

"I know," Harry assured her. "But I was thinking we should do something more permanent. So that generations from now, when everyone who survived this war has passed away, everyone that comes here will still know who these people were. What they did for us."

McGonagall regarded her lion for a moment as she thought about it. "And how do you suggest that? Kingsley is going to have a monument built here on the grounds."

Harry stood up then to face her. McGonagall could see the emotion churning in those eyes and the conviction he had for this idea he had obviously spent a lot of time thinking about. "I think you should make a room inside Hogwarts that is like the Room of Requirement. Make it a Memorial Room to everyone who fought and died in the First and Second War. Make it so that it is mentioned in classes but the students have to find it."

"You mean like accidentally?" McGonagall asked shrewdly.

"Well I mean don't show them where it is." Harry said shrugging.

McGonagall nodded her understanding and looked fondly at her Gryffindor. "I think that is an excellent idea. I'll get the crew and professors working on it immediately."

Harry grinned at that and turned back to look out at the grounds. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and his messy hair was being played with by the breeze. McGonagall watched him for just a moment wondering what was going through his head. He should be with the Weasleys now. They were family after all. But maybe that was the point, she realized with a start. Maybe Harry had no idea where he should be anymore. She decided to give him a push.

"You know Harry, I think you should leave Hogwarts. You've done all you can here. Hogwarts' repairs are coming along nicely, ahead of schedule thanks to you, and I am going to busy now these next few weeks trying to find teachers for all the missing posts and filling two House Head positions. "

Harry turned to look at her slowly. She was expecting him to immediately say that Hogwarts was his home and that he had to stay and help, so she was surprised when Harry's face was one of thought.

"I have been thinking that too." Harry answered nodding. "I just am not sure where I should go."

"Why don't you go home Harry?" McGonagall asked him gently.

Harry looked down at his shoes. He didn't have a home. Sure he had Grimmauld Place, but that held far too many bad reminders. He didn't want to impose at the Burrow either. The Weasleys were all grieving and he didn't want to interrupt that. And his parent's cottage in Godric's Hollow was unfit to live in because of the memorial and the damage. He sighed and only looked up when he felt McGonagall's hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"I know it's time to leave Hogwarts. If anything it is to make it easier for Ginny. I didn't realize until just a few days ago how hard it is for her to come here to spend time with me. I hate asking her to do that to herself just to come and see me. I want to be there for her and I know she wants to be there for me. So leaving Hogwarts is a must. The only house I own is Grimmauld Place, but I don't think I can face going back there yet. My aunt and uncle would rather me be dead then have me turn up on their doorstep once more. And my parent's cottage is far to ruined to even consider living in."

"Forgive me," McGonagall decided to tackle one issue at a time, "but why does Miss Weasley find it hard to be here?" She asked wondering if it was because she witnessed the Battle or if it was the results of the year dealing with the Carrows.

"She hasn't told me all the reasons yet," Harry answered "but mostly because of what she endured with the Carrows. Surely you would realize that Professor?" Harry asked her somewhat reproachfully.

McGonagall sighed and nodded. "You are right of course. Now that I stop to think, I remember how horrible it was here. I think you just added to my list of tasks of things to do before the school year arrives," she said more to herself than Harry but Harry took notice anyway.

"That wasn't my intention."

"Of course it wasn't," McGonagall assured him. "But thank you anyway Harry. The students did witness things here I would never wish them to have before. And Miss Weasley is correct. We will have to think on how to assure everyone, especially our students, that Hogwarts is safe once again. And as for your home predicament, you are forgetting something. The Burrow is also your home. I know for a fact that Molly and Arthur would love to have you there. Not only that, but your best friends are there as well as Ginny."

"I don't want to intrude on them though," Harry insisted. "They are pretty full right now with everyone staying there."

"It's not much more than they have had in the past," McGonagall corrected him. "And really, I doubt you will be there for much longer than the rest of the summer. You'll probably be buying a flat in London sooner than you think anyway. Spend the time you have now with your family Harry."

Harry looked around the room and nodded. "Thanks Professor," Harry grinned at her and McGonagall nodded before leaving the tower. She paused at the door and came back to stand beside him.

"Harry, a word of advice if I may," at Harry's nod, she continued. "A lot has happened to you here. I know you saw this place as home, even after everything that has happened to you here. I know you won't forget what has happened here, or the things you learned here, but there comes a time when you must build on what you have learned by forging new memories with new people and in new places. You have reached the age where the sky is truly your limit, and honestly Harry, I think you can go higher than that if you put your mind to it. You are worried you have no home anymore? Well create your own home. Build a family. But above all, be yourself." She gave him a smile, patted his shoulder, and then left the tower.

Harry sat back down in the spot he had been and thought about what she had said. Moving into the Burrow would allow him to be near Ginny and his best friends. Perhaps it was the best solution for now. It would allow him and Ginny chances to talk and get things off their chests and out in the open. Hopefully it would also give him a chance to talk to his friends as well. Harry decided that for now, McGonagall was right. The Burrow was where he belonged right now because that was where Ginny was. He missed her when she wasn't around and knew that she needed him. If what she said about the others not believing her about her year her was true, she would definitely need him. And Harry was surprise to find himself anxious to talk more with her about what had happened to him.

He fingered his scar as he thought about his last year spent on the run from Death Eaters, Snatchers, Voldemort, and Dementors. He would definitely be telling Ginny that story. He knew that to explain some of the other things she had to know what had happened to him. And like he had promised her before, there would be no secrets between the two of them now. And Harry was happy with that. He had been kept in the dark for far too long or keeping his own secrets for far too long. He wanted to have someone he could share everything with no matter what. He still felt a little guilty for telling Neville he had to kill the snake that night. He had given the other boy neither explanation nor any reason, just that the snake had to die. He would make that right too. Neville deserved to know that much at least.

As darkness fell, Harry looked around at the darkened grounds. With it being summer, the castle was pretty much abandoned. He sighed as he stood up and made his way to Gryffindor tower. Along the way, he couldn't help but feel as if he was being haunted by the people who had died here. He was surprised to find that there had been no ghosts created during the battle. Or at least, there were none here at Hogwarts. One or two might come eventually, but it was something Harry was grateful for. He wasn't sure anyone could stand the school anymore if it was haunted by one of their classmates. He lay down in bed thinking that he didn't need the physical presence of ghosts for reminders about the Battle. His nightmares were enough. He fell into a fitful sleep, his mind stuck on ghosts, memories, and lingering guilt.