At last! The long awaited memorial is here! Not a very happy occasion for our Golden Trio, but it needed to happen nonetheless. I've been missing the song lists per chapter, so one that was instrumental (ha) for the mood while I was writing this is Silver Rider originally by Robert Plant but the version by Low. I suggest listening to it while reading, honestly, it really adds something special :) Well, enjoy and review :D
"We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on." Albus Dumbledore - HBP
The atmosphere in the Great Hall that morning was so tense that when Hannah Abbott dropped her butter knife on the floor, a second year that Hermione vaguely recognized as being a friend of Ginny's burst into tears and several people around her jumped up, wands drawn. After they realized there was no threat they shakily sat down, whispering amongst themselves. The second year continued crying and the older woman next to her gathered the wisp of a girl into her arms.
"That's Anna Sewell," said Neville, his face unreadable, "her father got cut down by...Lestrange," his fists clenched, "I saw it happen..." He trailed off, eyes downcast. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but realized she had nothing suitable and closed it. Neville took a breath and with a look of determination went over to sit with Anna and her mother. Hermione noticed he talked with them the rest of the meal, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder now and then, gave a smile of encouragement to her weary mother.
Hermione's mouth quirked. Neville had really come into his own this past year. She hadn't seen firsthand how her fellow seventh year had coped but had heard many tales of Neville's bravery and leadership that she could readily believe after seeing him kill Nagini. Turning back to her plate, she managed to swallow half a sausage to avoid talking to anyone at the table. A sharp noise beside her startled her out of her reverie. Luna had subtly tapped her fork on Hermione's plate. Hermione looked at her, confused, but then saw two figures entering the Great Hall. Ron and Mr. Weasley were walking in, each with an arm around the other. Soon enough, Ron was sitting down next to her, his eyes red and puffy. Arthur Weasley squeezed Hermione's shoulder briefly before heading towards the high table.
"So," said Ron as he shakily poured himself pumpkin juice, "I assume you haven't seen Harry yet?"
Luna took the jug of juice from Ron's jittery hands before he could object and finished filling the cup, "Harry hasn't come down yet, Ron. I'd expect he's preparing himself so as not to have a bad reaction at the memorial, don't you two think?" She then went back to studying her classmates through the bottom of her glass.
Both of them stared at her.
She'd really been quite wrong about Luna all this time. Sure, Hermione had never approved of the name -calling that had been going on, but she had never outright disagreed with the notion of Luna being, well..."Loony", as they called her. Now, she realized-Luna was a remarkable witch. She'd lost her mother and been teased mercilessly through her entire school career yet she still found the strength and insight to see wonders in the world around her, no matter that no one else believed in them.
She smiled at Luna but the younger girl paid no attention, now engrossed in an issue of the Quibbler.
After a second, Ron thanked Luna and agreed, "She's probably right, 'Mione. I'd bet a thousand Galleons he's ripping himself apart feeling guilty right now."
Hermione bit her lip; she of course thought the same, Harry seemed to take on all the troubles of the world-in a way, he'd had to do that, so his guilt was understandable, but unwarranted. The problem was she didn't ever have a clue how to get this across to him other than berating him for thinking this way.
Ginny entered not long after her brother, a pensive look on her face as she took a seat next to Luna.
"Is he-"
"No," said Hermione quickly, "I would just let him be right now, Ginny, wherever he is. It's probably better if we-"
At that moment something made her look toward the entrance to the Hall. Was that-?
Harry stood close enough to the entrance so that some light fell upon his face, but more than half of it still lay in shadow. When he caught sight of Hermione and Ron looking at him, he took a breath and entered. One hand in his pocket fiddled with the Resurrection stone, rubbing it so hard that Harry began to think that it might have a groove in it if he were to look at it now. Of course, he didn't dare, not with so many eyes on him. Sitting down next to Ginny, he stiffly took a glass of water that Luna had gotten for him.
"How did everyone sleep last night?" said Neville, having sat down by Hannah across from them a moment ago.
Harry laughed without humor but said nothing. Ron shrugged. Hermione took a bite of dry toast. Ginny frowned while Luna rubbed her eyes.
"We'll, I'm certainly not surprised, with what you three went through, especially," said Neville, reaching for the plate of fried eggs, "but we'll all have to pull ourselves together for awhile, I'd say. Oh," he glanced at the high table, "is it starting?"
Harry follows Neville's gaze. People were beginning to line up at the entrance to go outside. He noted with a sick feeling that bodies were still being floated ahead of the students.
"I thought that had already been...taken care of," said Harry.
"They are mostly finished, but there were...too many for the volunteers to do last night, so they waited until this morning," replied Neville.
A horrible though suddenly struck Harry.
"What did they do with Riddle?"
Hermione looked down at her feet, "I suppose they'll probably burn the body, to avoid creating any type of shrine for Death Eaters in the future."
A king's burial. More than he deserves, thought Harry.
Ron furrowed his brow. "Where is...it then? His...remains? He shouldn't be anywhere near the..." he struggled with the words, "other bodies."
Harry noticed Hermione place her hand in Ron's. Seeing this, he felt Ginny make the same attempt, but he brushed her off, "not now, Gin. I...can't now."
She nodded, her eyes shining.
The assembly slowly made their way outside, where a raised platform had been set up near the shore. There were no chairs to be seen. A short distance away was Dumbledore's tomb, white marble gleaming even in the absence of the sun over the Black Lake. Harry steadied himself and felt the Elder wand inside his sleeve. He'd already decided to wait until the memorial had ended, so as to be unseen and therefore undisturbed.
Headmistress McGonagall was standing at the front of the stage, lips pursed. She waiting until everyone had made their way onto the dewy grass and then murmured a "Sonorus" before she began to address those who had gathered.
"This war cost us dearly. it is only through great sacrifice," at this she looked at Harry, and he found he could not quite meet his former professor's eyes, "and strength that we were able to overcome the darkness and evil that surrounded us. The fifty-four brave souls who gave their lives in defense of this school and the Wizarding world shall never be forgotten. We will mourn those who have passed," she inhaled briefly, "and honor them by going on, as they would want us to."
Harry coughed.
"May these witches and wizards be forever remembered." She was handed a piece of parchment by Flitwick; she bent down to take it from him. Clearing her throat, she began to recite the names of the dead.
Harry could barely stand it. Hearing all those names, all those lives cut short because of his idiocy, or his ignorance...
A hand on his shoulder startled him from his reverie. Kingsley. His dark eyes were pitying. It struck him that Kingsley must know this sort of guilt, having sent Aurors into battle and planned missions.
"Many more would have died if not for you." He looked at Harry for another moment, his eyes searching for something. He bowed his head and walked away towards the Order who remained on the sidelines.
Harry watched him go. They were getting close now, his heart was racing-
"Remus Lupin...Nymphadora Tonks Lupin..."
Harry wasn't aware that he had fallen to his knees until he felt water seep through his jeans. Ron had seen him start to fall and was by his side in an instant, "I know," he whispered, "I know."
Harry had never been more grateful for their friendship.
Ron helped him up as he rubbed his knees.
"Thanks, mate," Harry said.
Ron couldn't smile, but he tried. Harry gave him credit for the effort. He didn't know if he remembered what smiling felt like.
Harry returned the favor later on, when Fred's name was read. He and Hermione had their arms around Ron to keep him from falling. Mrs. Weasley's face was crumpled, and she clung to her husband as though to a lifeboat. Arthur's face was a far different story. His eyes were distant and Harry could tell far more was going on inside the man's head than outside it.
Ginny was holding onto Percy's arm, sobbing quietly while Percy rubbed her back and he could be heard faintly, "Shh, don't cry Gin, it'll be alright, you'll make me cry, please, Ginny..."
Harry looked for George, dreading the man's reaction.
George's eyes were closed. He stood closest to the lake and when Fred's name rang out clearly in the air, he opened his eyes and looked out on the water. His lips were moving, but Harry could not make out what he was saying.
Harry thought his heart might burst from guilt.
Finally, he was roused from his thoughts when Fleur came to hug him. He let her do it, even though the last thing he wanted at that moment was to be embraced. He wanted to be alone. She seemed to realize this and quickly released him, heading back into the solace of Bill's arms.
Ginny found him sitting near George at the edge of the water. She was about to say something but clearly thought better of it, because she wiped her eyes and walked away. Harry felt a little bad for not being with her when she was obviously distressed and in need of comfort, but he could not be there for her in his present state.
Everyone was heading back in but Minerva McGonagall had her sights set on a certain boy. Harry watched as she made her way determinedly over to George. She looked at her former pupil.
George barely noticed another person near him until he felt someone lay a hand gently on his shoulder. He was about to push it away until he saw who it was.
George could not find it in himself to initiate any conversation but there was no need. The two stood there in silence so long that Harry felt he was intruding and made his way to the tomb a little distance away.
He had a job to finish.
A limited time offer-reviewers will receive a virtual plush Kreacher that will only obey you once you have given him a locket of some kind. He is extremely stubborn.
