Harry shuffled forward, Ginny beside him with a death grip on his hand. They were waiting to view Colin's body and speak to his parents and brother. The service was being held in a Muggle funeral home to accommodate Colin's extended family, but Harry recognized many wizarding faces, most of them from the DA or Ginny and Colin's year. The room was fussy, formal, and hot, overlaid with the cloying scent of cut flowers.

Colin appeared perfect. Peaceful, asleep even, and painfully young. His hands looked oddly empty without his camera. Harry felt the lump in his throat, the burning behind his eyes, and coughed. Ginny sniffled, and he put his arm round her.

When Dennis saw Ginny, he latched onto her like a lifeline. Harry extended his hand towards the middle-aged woman standing beside Dennis, but it was Colin's father who took it.

"I'm Harry Potter. I— I went to school with Colin. He … I'm so sorry for your loss."

The man, eyes red-rimmed and blank, nodded mechanically, and Harry stepped back slightly as Ginny introduced herself to Mrs. Creevey. The woman seemed to recognize her name, for she pulled Ginny into a firm embrace.

"He was a wonderful friend," Ginny said, managing a smile. "So excited and enthusiastic about everything. I'm going to miss him."

"Harry."

It was Dennis, and Harry turned to face him with not a little dread. But Dennis had his hand outstretched and gave no indication of jinxing Harry.

"Dennis." Harry shook his hand, wishing he could do something more. "I'm so sorry…."

Dennis nodded. "We had been watching our DA galleons all year, following the gang at school as they sent messages to each other, trying to figure out what was going on. Then Colin got Neville's message about you being back, and—" His voice cracked. "He was of age, he turned seventeen last term, but McGonagall made me leave with the others. I wanted to stay, but Colin— he was already mad that I'd followed him through the Floo to the Hog's Head. I should have been there."

Harry squeezed Dennis's shoulder. "There's nothing you could have done, Dennis. Colin wanted you to be safe. We sent all the under-age kids out. There's no shame in that."

Dennis nodded and accepted a hug from Hermione.

Harry and Ginny left the queue and found four empty seats.

"This is awful," Ginny said, twisting her handkerchief in her lap. "We're just supposed to sit here and … do what?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "Wait for everyone to leave for the—" He swallowed. "The cemetery, I guess."

Hermione and Ron squeezed past and sat down.

"It's almost over," Hermione whispered. "We were towards the end of the queue. The family will be leaving for the cars soon, then they'll close the casket and the actual memorial will take place graveside."

"Will we have time to sit through the whole service before going to Lupin and Tonks's?" Ginny said.

Hermione looked at her watch and nodded. "I think so. We can Apparate straight there."

()()()()

Charlie looked up as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry joined the family in the open seats near the aisle. The four had had another funeral to attend this morning, one of Ginny's classmates. Both Ginny and Hermione were red-eyed, and the boys didn't look great, either. Charlie had lost friends in this war—two of them lay in the caskets in front of him—but none were children. None lost while he was still at Hogwarts. By all indications, Ginny had been heavily involved in Dumbledore's Army, not to mention the Muggle-borns she would have associated with during her years at Hogwarts. He looked towards his sister, wondering how many friends she had lost, and questioned yet again his decision to remain in Romania. Maybe….

The casket on his left, the one covered in yellow roses, drew his eye. Yes, Tonks had been his friend, but she had been so much more than that. Playmates even before they had started at Hogwarts, Tonks had shared his compartment on their first train ride from King's Cross, stood beside him during the Sorting Ceremony, destroyed countless magical plants as his Herbology partner, and shared more than a few detentions. She had been his first friend outside his family, his first kiss, his first lover. She was the first person he told when he got his acceptance letter from the dragon reserve, the first to admit their long-distance romance was killing their friendship, the first to write after that painful break-up.

Tonks was his first everything.

Charlie didn't pay much attention to the service. The official nattered on about her work as an Auror, spoke briefly (and uncomfortably, it seemed to Charlie) about her and Lupin's marriage, and went on to spout some rubbish about heroism that they both would have hated. Especially Remus, with his quiet manner and sly humor that was all the funnier for its unexpectedness. Charlie remembered his intense focus when on a mission, his cold determination to end Voldemort and find justice for his friends, his commitment to Harry.

Charlie glanced down the row. Remus had been Harry's last link to his parents, their last friend left alive, and now there was no one. Bill said Remus was the one who taught Harry how to cast a Patronus, and Remus had claimed it was Harry who made him see sense about Tonks and the baby.

The baby Charlie was studiously avoiding.

It had been Remus's words, even more than Bill's, that reassured Charlie about his decision to work for the Order from Romania. But still, he couldn't help wondering … if he had been just a little faster … if he had arrived at Hogwarts while Tonks and Remus were still alive, could he have prevented their deaths?

Beside him, Amy reached for his hand as the official closed the caskets. Charlie looked past her to Bill, whose face was set. Neither Bill nor Remus talked about it, but Charlie knew the two had been friends for years, even before the Order of the Phoenix was reformed. Bill had started writing to Remus the summer after Ginny was possessed, asking for his help as her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and when Remus wanted to announce the birth of his son, he went to Bill's house.

Charlie's gaze drifted back to Harry again, the baby's godfather, and passed over Percy. Even Percy had known and liked Lupin, his teacher for his last year of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And even though he hadn't been in the Order, Perce would remember Tonks from school, being just three years behind her and Charlie and an occasional victim of their mischief.

Tonks had befriended all the kids that summer at Grimmauld Place, but she had been thrilled to get to know Ginny. Tonks had always doted on his baby sister, but she had been too young for them to really become friends before then. The two had thought of each other as surrogate sisters, and Charlie knew the— George, and Ron and Ginny and Hermione and Harry had loved Remus's lessons. Ginny, especially, had hardly talked about anything else in her letters that year. Mum and Dad had watched Tonks grow up, had worked with both Tonks and Lupin since the Order was reformed three years ago. Tonks and Lupin had been friends with everyone in his entire family.

How did you recover from a loss like that?

()()()()

Harry didn't even realize the memorial had ended until Ginny laid a hand on his arm.

Her eyes were puffy and her face damp, but her expression was clear and calm.

"She brought Teddy," Ginny said, and Harry looked over her shoulder to see Mrs. Tonks holding a blanket-wrapped bundle. "Let's go and say hello."

Somehow his desire to be a model godfather faded when confronted with a grieving, obviously protective, and presumably quite powerful member of the Black family. "It's a bad time. It's her daughter's funeral. We'll— I'll talk to her some other time. Later."

"Then let's ask her when would be a good time to stop by," Ginny said, standing up and pulling Harry with her.

They waited as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley expressed their condolences, Ginny maintaining a firm grip on Harry's arm as if she expected him to run away. Harry was forced to admit she knew him well.

"Hello, Mrs. Tonks, I'm—"

"Ginevra Weasley," the dark-haired witch said. "I remember when you were just a tiny thing, no bigger than Teddy here." She looked down at the baby in her arms and her expression softened.

"Nymphadora was the best," Ginny said. "I'm really going to miss her."

Harry wondered why Ginny used Tonks's given name when she had hated it so … maybe for Mrs. Tonks's sake, since she was the one who chose it.

Mrs. Tonks nodded. "Mr. Potter."

Was it his imagination, or had her voice chilled when she said his name?

"I— I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," she said with dignity.

"Remus— and Tonks, they— they asked me to be godfather. Teddy's godfather, I mean," Harry stammered. Of course Teddy's godfather. Who else could it be?

It wasn't Harry's imagination this time; Mrs. Tonks turned Teddy ever-so-slightly towards her bosom and wrapped her other hand across his back.

"I am aware of their wishes."

"Well, I … I never had much of a chance to be with my own godfather, and I'd like to do better by Teddy."

She finally smiled, and it eased her resemblance to Bellatrix immensely. "Sirius," she said affectionately. "He was my favorite cousin."

Harry began to feel this might work out all right. "He said the same thing about you, Mrs. Tonks," he said, remembering the conversation with his godfather in front of the tapestry of the Black family tree.

"We were hoping we might come over one afternoon to spend some time with Teddy," Ginny said. "Or you would be welcome at the Burrow if you prefer, of course."

"I think it might be good for me to get out of the house," Mrs. Tonks said, fussing with Teddy's blanket. "Molly and I used to visit when Nymphadora and the boys were small."

Ginny smiled and said nothing.

"Would Thursday be too soon?"

"Not at all," Ginny said. "Come for tea."

"I'll do that. Thank you very much, Miss Weasley."

"Whew," Harry said when Mrs. Tonks had turned away to greet the next person waiting to speak with her. "She's rather intimidating."

"She's just very proper. She may have married a Muggle-born, but she was still raised in high society, and people fall back on what's familiar when they're stressed. She's not stuck up, though," Ginny added. "I remember her being at our house. She often brought me hair ribbons or a dress for my doll. Something girly that the boys wouldn't take away from me."

"I didn't know you played with dolls," Harry said, relieved to have something less serious to talk about.

"Well, they all played Quidditch, and not one of them had any older brothers."

()()()()

It was after midnight, but Charlie had no interest in going to bed. He had buried his first love today, one day after he had buried his brother. One year after he had buried his best mate. Godric, how Fergus used to take the piss out of him and Tonks, and now…. There had been no Charlie and Tonks for years, but now there was no more Tonks. No more Fergus. No more—

Charlie shook himself. This was exactly why he needed a distraction. He didn't want to sleep, to dream, to think, and with a family as big as his, surely there was someone up for a fly or a drink or a game of chess or something. Anything.

He passed closed doors on every landing and had just started up the last flight of stairs when he heard the soft click of a latch. A curly-haired, dressing-gown-clad witch was leaving Ron's room and had not yet seen him. Perfect. Charlie lounged against the wall and waited.

"Ch—" The beginning of his name sounded unnaturally loud in the silent house, and Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, shooting a fearful look in the direction of his parents' bedroom.

"Hello, Hermione." His gaze traveled from her to his brother's bedroom door before returning to her adorably pink face. Well, well, well. Not a simple visit with her best mates, then.

"Hello." Her voice was softer than a whisper, and she didn't quite meet his eyes as she continued down the stairs towards him.

Charlie let her pass without additional comment, looking forward to harassing the hell out of his youngest brother.

He opened the door and squinted in reflex; it had been a long time since he'd been up here, and he'd forgotten Ron had redone the entire room in Chudley Cannons orange. Said fan lay in bed, eyes closed and mouth agape, apparently asleep already. An indentation from Hermione's head remained in the pillow. Charlie crossed the room and shook Ron's shoulder roughly.

He was flat on his back on the floor, Ron's forearm pressed to his throat and his wand directly between Charlie's eyes.

"Bloody hell, Charlie," Ron said, pushing himself up with what Charlie considered to be unnecessary force. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Charlie was still processing the events that led his brain to conclude his kid brother had just got the drop on him. He sat up, rubbing his throat.

"What was that about?"

"Nine months on the run," Ron said shortly, sliding his wand back under his pillow. "You're lucky it wasn't Harry. He stuns first and asks questions later."

Charlie glanced at the empty camp bed. "Where is Harry?"

Ron sighed. "I don't ask and he doesn't say."

Charlie paused, considering the implications of your best mate dating your little sister.

"Hermione says its no different than me and her, but…" Ron frowned, unconvinced.

Charlie was inclined to agree. With Ron, that is, not Hermione.

Speaking of whom…. "I saw Hermione on my way up here," he said casually.

Ron's wand reappeared with unnatural speed. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing! Shit, calm down, will you?"

Ron did not lower his wand hand and his eyes narrowed. "I know you said something to her. What was it?"

" 'Hello, Hermione.' " Charlie couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, even with a wand pointed directly in his face.

The wand shifted slightly, as if Ron were deciding whether to hex Charlie's left eye or his right. Charlie didn't even have his wand on him, and he realized suddenly how different their experiences of the war had been.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, put your wand away. I'm just trying to take the piss."

Ron gave his wand a flick, and despite himself, Charlie flinched. He saw Ron smirk and lunged, and the two brothers wrestled for control, first Charlie on top, then Ron, then Charlie again, and as Ron wriggled out of his hold, Charlie couldn't help thinking this used to be a lot easier. He stopped holding back, but it wasn't until he slammed Ron's wrist into the wardrobe, causing the wand to drop and roll underneath it, and Charlie's head cracked against one leg of the camp bed as he dodged Ron's retaliatory elbow that they stopped, lying side by side and breathing heavily.

"Take my advice. Leave Hermione alone."

"Or what, you'll beat me up?" Charlie asked the question with insulting skepticism.

"Hermione is the best witch you've ever met. You should have seen what she did to the girl who ratted out Dumbledore's Army."

"Hermione actually hexed someone?" Charlie had a hard time picturing the goody-goody prefect doing anything less than wholesome. Then again, she had sneaked up here, hadn't she?

"Harry and I wouldn't have made it without her."

"I hear you two are going on holiday."

"We're going to get Hermione's parents. She sent them to Australia to keep them safe."

Was there anything that wasn't tainted by this damn war? Still, Charlie did his best to persevere in his brotherly duty to harass and humiliate.

"Moonlit beaches, skimpy swimsuits, hotel beds three times the size of that thing…." He waved his hand at Ron's single bed.

"It's winter there, prat. Like November."

Southern Hemisphere. Right.

"Besides, it's not like that."

"Ron, if you tell me you had a girl in your bed and you didn't make a move on her, I'll castrate you myself."

Ron poked him in the ribs with his newly-retrieved wand. "I didn't say I didn't— we weren't— it's—" He took a deep breath that did nothing to return his ears to their normal pallor. "We just got together the night of the Battle, and I really care about her, and I don't want to screw it up this time."

This time? Meaning there had been a previous time with a previous screw-up? Charlie made a mental note to chat with Ginny tomorrow.

"So, you're fooling around but you haven't had sex."

"Something like that," he muttered.

"In that case, don't believe anything she says if she's cried in the last four hours."

"What?" Ron went from looking embarrassed to perplexed.

"If she says she wants to make love, don't believe her if she's cried in the last four hours. Witches are emotional and unpredictable and have a tendency to change their minds."

"You don't say."

"How long will you be gone?"

Ron shrugged, summoning bits of paper and tossing them into the bin several feet away. "No way to know. Hermione wants to be back for Harry's birthday, but she hasn't said anything to Harry in case we haven't— in case we can't make it. And she'll probably want to spend most of the rest of the summer with her parents because she's going back to Hogwarts in September."

There was more to the Australia trip than Ron was saying. Harry's birthday wasn't until the end of July; why on earth would it take nearly three months to fetch Hermione's parents? Charlie was sure the Grangers were capable of traveling home to England on their own (they'd got to Australia, hadn't they?), but both Ron and Hermione tensed up whenever it was mentioned.

"Well, goodness knows you won't get any there. McGonagall will have that place locked up tighter than Gringotts."

Ron's lips twitched. "Lucky we've busted out of there, then."

Charlie sat up. "It's true? You really broke into Gringotts?"

"We really did."

Ron grinned at him, and Charlie knew he was going to make him ask.

"And the dragon?"

"That's true too."

"And?"

Charlie was fascinated by Ron's description of Hermione's imitation of Bellatrix Lestrange, the trip into the vaults and the security spells they triggered, and their escape on the dragon's back.

"Damn, Ron, even I don't know anyone who has ridden a dragon. What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "No other options, were there?"

The brothers held each other's eyes for a moment.

"I guess not," Charlie said finally. "What happened to the dragon?"

Ron flung a wad of paper at him. "We jumped off when it flew low over a lake, thanks for asking."

The door opened and closed, and Harry entered the room.

"Oh, hi, Charlie."

"Charlie here was worrying about what happened to the Gringotts dragon," Ron said.

"It's a dragon. I'm sure it's fine."

Harry stepped around them and sat down on his bed. Charlie noticed how smoothly both boys—men (when the hell had that happened?)— ignored the question of Harry's whereabouts at one in the morning. He stood up.

"You, uh, you might want to check on George," Harry said to his trainers. "I—I heard him as I came up the stairs."

Heard him crying, he meant.

Shit.

a/n: Sorry for the delay, guys. Kudos go to NiDZY, who was hoping for more about Charlie and Tonks's relationship from Charlie's POV, and that gave me the idea for switching around the funeral scene. See what cool things can happen when you review? Thanks to MandyinKC for letting me borrow Fergus Wood as Charlie's best mate. He appears in her Oliver Wood/Katie Bell fic Pictures of You. Let's do some more story recs, what do you say?

In addition to Pictures of You, which features a delightfully developed cast of minor HP characters, Mandy also has a WIP called A Very Weasley Christmas (including Fergus and Tonks in Charlie's chapter), and if that's still not enough Weasleys for you (when is it ever?), check out The Year of the Weasley Scarves. If you need more Christmas, My Dear Professor McGonagall is working on twelve Christmas one-shots for each of the twelve Weasley grandchildren masterfully titled The Twelve (Weasleys and Christmas and babies, what's not to like?). She also did a Christmas piece last year focusing on the Weasleys' first Christmas after the war, Twelve Days.

From moi: I wrote Comfort and Joy Gone Astray as an outtake of this story; Changing Her Mind could be considered a Ron/Hermione outtake of sorts, and let's not forget about The Weasley Christmas Song List from 2011. In fact, *drumroll* the WCSL has a sequel-uh, I just realized I haven't named this fic yet-but anyway, I'll be publishing that in the next few days for anyone who wondered what happened with Percy and Audrey. *waggles eyebrows* Observations of Success is another of my Christmas-themed one-shots, and if you want to get a jump on New Year's, Many a Weary Foot won first place in the 2012 Happy New Year Competition.

I think it goes without saying that if you read and enjoy any of the fics I recommend, I expect you to leave the author a review, yeah? Okay, I won't mention it then ;)