a/n: At one point while writing this i actually got the sniffles, i'm willing to admit i was a tiny bit proud of what i'd made of some of these characters. There's just the epilogue to go after this and then what will probably be a long wait before the sequel. Please enjoy and feel free to leave me your thoughts.
Chapter 29
In the end they created a whole new cemetery on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Ringed with a beautiful stone and iron fence, no expense was spared to make the large patch of land a place worthy of being the last resting place of those who died fighting Voldemort and his men. Each grave had a proper headstone, marking the last resting place of someone worthy of remembering.
At the centre they built a monument to all of the people who had died during the war. All of the people who had lost their lives not just at the Battle of Hogwarts but the St Mungo's Massacre, the fall of Azkaban and all of the hundreds of other scuffles and battles that were small in scale but not in pain of loss. There were over a thousand names on that wall, over a thousand people ranging in age from days to more than a century.
McGonagall hired a retired herbologist to maintain the grounds, seeing no reason that the memorial and the men, women and children resting beneath it could not be long cared for by Hogwarts. For many years to come, students on their way to Hogsmeade would leave flowers for their fellow students who had fallen during the war.
Neville Longbottom rested beside his parents, together again in the afterlife, as they had never had the opportunity to be in life. His grandmother visited every Tuesday, placing flowers on the grave of her son and daughter-in-law and a new exotic plant on her grandsons'. She stayed strong, never once breaking down, bursting with pride and never shying away from the truth of her loss. Her grandson had died at the hands of Voldemort. He had stood up beside his friends and fought with everything he had.
The Creevey brothers, like Neville and his parents, were buried side by side. They were young, yes, but not the youngest to be buried in that cemetery. Their headstones told the world proudly and without shame that these two boys, had fought bravely in battle, that they were responsible for saving lives and would forever be remembered for their sacrifice. Their parents would have another son, born just six months after they passed. Born with magic just as his brothers he would walk the halls of Hogwarts in the footsteps of his brothers, head held high knowing that when people pointed and whispered about him that they were talking about his brothers with awe.
He'd walk every day passed the wall where McGonagall proudly displayed the photographs Colin had taken.
Hermione had been the one to make the final decisions of where everyone rested. She'd grouped families together first, knowing that those who died together should have the ability to spend eternity resting together. The students who died were arranged according to which year they were in at Hogwarts, those who could rested beside friends those who couldn't were amongst friends they hadn't even known they had.
The other's who died fighting were arranged in alphabetical order. No one was given special treatment, no headstone told a sensationalised tale, they were honest and heartfelt, telling the truth about the person who rested there.
Percy Weasley rested in a quiet corner, his grave always covered with fresh flowers, the words on his stone were simple but honest. He was friend and family, brother and son and he had died like all of the others, fighting to protect those he loved from a greater darkness.
Jesse Jacks. Dean Thomas. Hannah Abbott. Pomona Sprout. Amelia Bones.
Remus Lupin. Moony had what was possible the most memorable headstone. When no one was around the twins and Sirius had worked a spell that revealed a hidden list of some of his best pranks to those who knew where to look. The stone proudly proclaimed for anyone walking by that the infamous Moony rested beneath it, the reason behind some of the Marauders most dangerous plans, the most loved and well respected werewolf around.
The things people left on his grave ranged from flowers to new pranks developed by the twins and joke products left by admirers and new generations of Hogwarts students who had heard the legends of the Marauders. Fred and George introduced a whole new line of joke products honouring the Marauders. Sirius snuck copies of the book they'd been working on as kids into the castle, leaving them in innocent places such as the library or on a bottom shelf in the transfiguration classroom.
Harry knew all of this; he took pride in knowing the quirks and patterns of the memorial cemetery. A lot of the names were unfamiliar to him but they all had died at the hands of Voldemort or under his instruction. He couldn't let himself forget the fact that Jesse's parents liked to have a picnic in Hogsmeade once a month when they'd come to lay fresh flowers on his grave.
He couldn't forget that Tonks brought each new werewolf from her shelter to see Remus' headstone where a werewolf was proudly remembered amongst the other witches and wizards who had fought bravely against Voldemort.
He couldn't forget that he had played a hand in Mrs Weasley losing one of her children or that Neville would never get to be the kind of man his grandmother had always known he could be. Harry couldn't forget the sacrifice made by so many people so that future generations of the wizarding world might have peace.
He couldn't forget that it could have been Ron or Hermione or Ginny lying there. He couldn't forget that Hannah may never have found her way here if it hadn't been for his ADADA. He couldn't let himself forget every sacrifice these people made, couldn't let himself regret not killing Voldemort sooner.
He couldn't let himself forget how it was that Albus Dumbledore came to rest beneath the memorial. Ron and Daphne had been the ones to bring his body home. Fawkes had solemnly drifted down onto Ron's shoulder once the battle was over and they'd started the clean up. He'd whisked Ron away before he'd had a chance to even shout, the only reason Daphne had gone along being that her hand had been gripping Ron's tightly.
They buried him with the other victims and heroes of the war against Voldemort. Harry knew he deserved that much at least. He may have lost his way toward the end, he may have lost sight of some of the more important aspects of his life and Harry's, but in the end he had died trying to help. He had played a key role in the beginning and it was only right that they honour that.
'It's time,' Ally murmured into his ear, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. He looked around, taking in all of the people seated in a huge half circle around the open gates of the cemetery. A few were looking at him expectantly.
Slowly he got to his feet and moved to stand in front of all of those people. Gathered before him were the friends and family of those who had fallen in battle and quite a few important people from the new Ministry. He briefly made eye contact with a reporter for the Daily Prophet before he found Kingsley Shacklebot, the new Minister for Magic. He spotted Ron and Daphne in the crowd surrounded by their families. He saw Draco Malfoy sitting beside Tonks, one arm wrapped around her in the first show of familial affection Harry had ever seen from the Slytherin. Andromeda sat beside them, arms cradling tiny Teddy Lupin.
Harry spotted his godfather, arm draped across the back of his wife's chair, fingers playing idly with a loose curl of her hair. Even from a distance it was easy to see the swell of Ruby's stomach and the way Sirius' jaw clenched in sadness.
He saw Hermione sitting with Steven and Professor McGonagall; saw Hagrid's large form, snuffling into a handkerchief. He looked around at the clear cool February morning and he started to speak.
'Today marks a year since the death of Tom Riddle, the man we knew as Lord Voldemort,' he paused waiting for the inevitable flinches that still came at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. 'We remember this day because it was the end of one of the darkest periods in magical history. We shouldn't. This is not a day to remember the fear and violence it is instead the day we should be remembering those we loved. The people we loved who sacrificed so much.
'Today we should remember Neville Longbottom who started his time at Hogwarts as the forgetful boy who secured me my place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. We should remember the man he became and the things he achieved.
'We should remember Madam Amelia Bones…'
When he had first been approached by the committee organising this anniversary event Harry had flat out refused to speak. Not only did the idea of speaking so publicly make him uncomfortable but also he was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that the fight was over and things were going back to normal. Having that much time to actually think had made him very aware of the things he had done. He was startlingly aware of the people he had killed and of the students he had led to their death.
It would be a while before he fully came to terms with that. It would be a long time before he could get passed the harsh memories and just be okay. Molly helped, she was always so delighted to see her father, to just spend any moment with him playing or just lying about. He didn't stay at Hogwarts anymore, choosing to go home every night for dinner with his family and to stay in his own bed.
He needed that connection to remind him why he had done the things he had. He needed Ally to remind him when he woke screaming from a nightmare that he had not led those kids to their death but had taught them valuable skills that had given them the choice to fight. He needed to be around her so that he could remember why they had made that choice for themselves.
It had been Ally who forced him to accept the request that he speak. Like all the other times she'd decided it would be good for him and told him in no uncertain terms that he would do it. He'd learned a long time ago not to argue with her, she got very creative when things didn't go her way. And though he'd never tell her (although he knew she already knew) she had been right, speaking about that day and about all of the good people they had lost helped to ease the pain of it.
'That was very nice, Harry,' Hermione told him later when the formal parts were over and people were starting to move through the cemetery to pay visits to their loved ones. Her eyes were misty and her voice was thick with emotion.
Ally squeezed his arm where she was pressed to his side. He tried not to notice the way Molly had started to place slobbery kisses on his neck. She hadn't quite got the hang of dry kisses yet. 'I'm so proud of you,' Ally whispered into his ear.
He smiled at her but it was a heavy smile, all of the emotions raging around the cemetery were enough to bring anyone into a sombre mood. There were smiles as well, though. He'd gotten a few laughs with his stories about the people buried there. He'd spent quite a lot of time gathering the stories together, speaking with friends and relatives of those he hadn't known personally. It had been worth it, even if it had been heartbreaking.
'We don't blame you, dear,' Jesse's grandmother had told him with a sad smile and the offer of a cookie. The cookie had let him cover his watery smile.
Ruby appeared beside them, reaching to tickle Molly's cheek. She looked tired but was more smiles than sad tears. She looked around her, eyes searching the crowd looking for what, Harry didn't know.
'It was nice what you did for their families, Harry,' she told him quietly. 'Making this day for them and not about Voldemort was a good idea. They needed it.'
'I think I needed it as well,' he admitted. 'All these people thinking I'm some powerful legend because I killed Voldemort they keep forgetting that I'm still just a kid.'
'You haven't been a kid for a long time,' Sirius said sadly, coming up behind Ruby. 'I'm sorry for the part I played in that.'
One drunken night Sirius had tried to apologise for getting locked away in Azkaban when he should have been raising Harry, shielding him from the worst of the Dursley's and Dumbledore's decisions. It hadn't been the first time Sirius had tried to apologise, just the drunkest, but Harry, like all the other times, had simply brushed him off.
Ron and Daphne drifted over, hands clasped tightly together. Daphne bore the scars of war much more visibly than most. The crisp white of the bandage on her chest still peaked from the neck of her coat. Malfoy had arranged for the best healers at his new hospital to have a look at her and they were finally starting to make some headway. It would be years before the wound properly healed but they had hope that it would.
She wore the scar without complaint, as though it were simply a part of her. Harry had never heard Ron complain about it, if anything he saw it as just another reason to love her. Slowly the other members of the ADADA drifted over, Emmy with her hands shoved deep in her pockets to keep warm with Fred and George talking quietly behind her about some new product or something they were thinking of selling. Stephanie, hair buried beneath a knitted hat wandered over with Luna and Abby.
Others started to break away, people who had come to pay their respects were leaving as the air grew cold and the sky started to darken. Malfoy stomped over, huddled down into his jacket to keep warm; his own hat was slipping down over Astoria's head. She looked delightfully warm while he looked miserable. It made Harry smile.
'We done here?' he grumbled, stomping his feet in place. 'Its bloody freezing.'
Harry nodded, he was happily using a little magic to keep himself warm and he could feel flames creeping up Molly's back. It was a trick she'd mastered pretty quickly and it had led even faster to her ability to flame long distance. It was not a fun experience.
'Good,' Malfoy, mumbled. 'See you tomorrow.'
He turned, withdrawing a hand from one of his pockets long enough to tuck it around one of Astoria's arms before he hastily stuffed it back in. The pair started the cold walk back up to the castle, Ron and Daphne not far behind. Abby placed a quick kiss on Harry's cheek before hurrying to catch up.
Soon it was just Harry and Ally standing with Sirius and Ruby. His godfather looked cold but he was lingering for Harry's benefit. Ruby didn't seem to be bothered by the cold but she had been frequently complaining about always being hot now that she was pregnant so Harry assumed she just hadn't noticed yet.
'See you around, kid.' Sirius clapped a hand on Harry's back, took his wife's hand and with a last smile, the two apparated home.
Harry took one last look around at the cemetery; at the reminder of what they had been through and that they were slowly rebuilding a world destroyed by fear, violence and dark magic.
'Let's go home.'
