AN: This is the last chapter, it feels weird ending this story as it has been part of my life for over a year now and I appreciate immensely all the people who have come along on this journey with me. Hope all of you are staying healthy and safe in this trying time.

Life Doesn't Surrender to Finality

Then...

Hermione

I had bitten my fingernails just about to the quick. The wait was killing me; it could have been minutes or hours, I couldn't tell you with the way my mind was spinning. I was sweating like I had gone on a marathon run before standing here with Essa. I looked towards this obstinate elf, whose expression was one of single-minded determination. Oddly, like myself in the early years of Hogwarts. I was not used to waiting for something to happen. Usually, I was in the thick of it where I belonged. But I had to trust that Essa knew what she was doing.

"Miss Hermione", the quiet way she addressed me was with cool confidence, that had an air of command which made me stop my frantic pacing.

"What is going on, Essa? I don't th-" the sudden materialisation of the other elf Mira stopped my desperate questioning of Essa. I forced my hands to clutch the hem of my shirt; otherwise, I was libel to grab the elf by the shoulders and shake her. My patience was hanging by a thread; it was pulled so tight that it was on the verge of snapping if I had to wait a fucking moment longer. I needed answers now!

"It is done" Mira nodded, her eyes briefly meeting mine.

Essa spoke lowly to her, words I couldn't understand, then she disappeared in the blink of an eye. Anger bubbled up inside me, I started to tremble from suppressing the emotion, screaming at the elf would not help the situation, but my tolerance was at literal breaking point. Gerdie the head elf made a poised appearance in his black waistcoat and pants, it would seem fitting if the older elf were sporting a monocle to round out his Victorian style. His long grey coloured fingers were strangling the neck of a gold embroidered drawstring bag that looked like crushed velvet. I eyed the bag with curiosity and suspicion; the symbols that were stitched into the blood coloured bag were not familiar to me, and I had studied Spellman's Syllabary extensively while on the run in the Forest of Dean. These were just wrong, twisted derivatives, an inverse of what I was used to seeing. I couldn't place the feeling precisely, but it was familiar, that cold dead feeling, the way your heart stops in horror, blooding receding in your veins- a tangible representation of fear. Glowing red eyes, reminiscent of dying coals beneath a once fiercely burning flame floated to the forefront of my thoughts. I slammed down that thinking, it wasn't something I wanted to remember, and I had been doing an excellent job of pushing all those horrible experiences away in a box in mind. Unfortunately, the sides of that box were starting to bulge, and I knew once all of this was over, I would have to deal with it.

Small but strong fingers circled both my wrists, pulling me from my depressing thoughts. I blinked, Essa and Gerdie were directly in front of me, their free hands holding on to each other and we formed a circle.

"Ready?" Gerdie asked, but the question wasn't aimed at me.

"Yes," Essa nodded.

"Wha-" before I could ask again what the hell was going on, I was pull through elven apparation. In a split second, I was yanked off my feet and then deposited on firm ground once again.

I wobbled, and nausea churned my stomach from the sudden displacement. It was similar to that feeling you get when you're on a rollercoaster, that takes a rapid change of direction that you aren't prepared for. I would think I would be used to it by now. I spin around on the spot, which doesn't help my stomach; it's an open field with a small cluster of houses in the distance. The sky is pale blue and relatively free of clouds, having very little of them gives the feeling of openness- freedom. I shiver when I think back to that night in the forest with Rodolphus and Rabastan, the heavy moisture-laden clouds looming overhead with lightning cutting through them and illuminating their feral faces. It will always give me the feeling of being trapped and pressed in; I can't look at clouds the same way now.

"Where are we? What are we doing here?" I ask quietly closing my eyes as I try to push the sickly feeling down, but a heavy sense of dread fills the air around us. It's like a boat anchor being tossed overboard, and I had that sinking feeling.

"Wales. To capture the beast" and there it was. The muffled sound as the anchor hits the ocean floor. I couldn't stop it, the bile, the excessive salivation as my stomach muscle clenched in a vice-like manner. I gripped my kneecaps, leaning over the green grass and tarnished the picturesque landscape with my humiliation and fear. Tears stung my eyes, a thousand needles striking them with precision. Shame welled up and washed over me, here I was sitting on the ground next to my vomit, on the verge of crying and Tom is in trouble. Where was my Gryffindor courage now? I know there was no shame in admitting that being in that house rattled me to my core, I just hadn't anticipated feeling even a shred of that again so soon. I sucked in a deep breath and held it, trying to calm myself down. I needed to do this for Tom.

"Ok, I can do this" I stood up on shaky legs, pulling strength from sheer obstinance.

"We don't need your help Miss Hermione", I glared at Gerdie even as a small part of me was relieved not to have to be involved in this part of their plan.

"Then how are you going to capture it?" Gerdie looked insulted by this question.

"We are capable Miss Hermione, more so than you witches and wizards. There are things in this world that remain hidden from view, shrouded in darkness, things that you shouldn't go looking for. But most of you can't help yourselves and have to disrupt the balance, all for greed and power" if an elf could spit, he virtually spat out those words. He was clearly disgusted by the wizarding world and the things that have been done. But I did agree with him; we haven't displayed the best qualities to be a proper representation of our kind. "Now if you will cease with your questions, let Essa and me clean up your mess and dispatch the maljin'har to finish its transaction". I felt thoroughly chastised and hung my head; most people often forgot the house-elves were powerful in their own right; they did things that wizards could and cannot. I had a feeling what they allowed us to see was only scratching the surface of their abilities.

I paced back and forth in the field- ugh I hated it, being on the sidelines. Not that I think I could have entered the house, too many memories. I just wanted to see Tom, to feel him against me and to breathe him in. I looked around again, taking in a deep breath of clean, fresh air; the breeze rippled through the grass, making the blades move rhythmically to a silent beat.

Essa and a slightly frazzled looking Gerdie appeared with a loud crack, that made me jump in my skin. "That was...quicker than I thought?" I frowned, did they get it done or...?

"It was eager to be released from the house and its servitude" My gaze landed on the velvet bag, the symbols more iridescent than before. I swallowed thickly at the thought of what was inside it, would it try to get out? Would it recognise me? Eventually, my brain decided to process what Gerdie had said...wait...servitude?

"What do you mean? Did you deal with it?" my voice rose, panic started coiling around my chest.

"I offered it retribution, against the one who dragged it here and enslaved it. Once it has completed its objective, it is to harm no one else and leave, forever". I had so many questions but now was not the time. Essa must have seen the expressions move across my face, shock, confusion and reluctance.

"Gerdie is a master elf, he knows what to do" Essa gave me another blinding smile, and I felt my muscles relax. I hadn't realised how wound tight my body was. "Now hurry before my paralytic wears off master Tom and the mean man" again I had so many questions.

"Ok, let's do this".

Now

Tom POV

Damn it! I couldn't use magic either, and here we were like sitting meat bags waiting to get devoured by that...demonic...no other word for it...creature. I must say this wasn't how I thought I would go out, being eaten alive.

"Mmm, the question should be Albus what did you do?" I need to keep up appearances, and I wouldn't go out looking like I was frightened. God, I hope in my final moments I don't wet my pants. It's a silly thought but damn if I don't feel like I'm getting a little hysterical. Use Albus as a distraction, although it is hard to keep focused when all your senses are telling you, you are being stalked by a massive predator.

Albus scowled, even more, making his wrinkles deepen, this caused him to look older, more worn. If I was honest, he looked like he was going to be sick, especially when you could feel the entity moving closer.

"Must have done something, old man, if that's your reaction", I don't think the thing is here for me, well I hope it isn't.

"What makes you think it isn't here for you, Tom?" Albus tried to play it off, but I could see the sweat beading around the edge of his face. He was shitting himself.

"I'm confident that this time Albus, my mistakes aren't stalking me" Despite my own fears, it felt right to needle Dumbledore even at the very end. The lights started flickering, the radio in the kitchen came on, skipping stations like someone was out there playing with the electronic device. It was so cold in the café, but that unfortunately made it much easier to discern where the entity was. It was giving off heat not to mention the stench of sulphur, which makes you want to gag. The growling was getting louder, and I chanced a look around. It was moving slowly around the café, weaving in between the gaps of the tables, this hulking dense mass of black smoke, that seemed to suck the light in, like a black hole. A movement towards the back of the room caught my eye, what the bloody fuck? If I could have stood, I would have, because what- in all that I have in this world- is Hermione doing here? She should be at the Manor safe, and even if I didn't make it out alive, I know she would have been ok and would live a good life. But that wouldn't happen if she is here and putting herself in harm's way. Her short hair was a tangled mess around her face, and it made me angrier and angrier; irrationally so.

She hadn't looked at me so far; no, her gaze was steadily fixed on the creature skulking towards us with confident feet. My heart was pounding in my ears, and I wasn't as calm as I would have liked to be, as I thought I would be at the end. The creature was in touching distance, and I struggled to breathe against the thick blanket of sulphur that covered us. I closed my eyes for a moment to gather what little strength I had to try to do something anything. Once I opened my eyes, everything happened like it was in slow motion; where time stretched and pulled. As the creature lunged towards Dumbledore, my eyes snapped towards Hermione, whose face morphed into shock. However, that was brief, determination now set upon her face. She telegraphed her movements, and I knew what she was going to do- run in my direction. My fearless (reckless) lioness bolted towards me despite the danger and the sheer terror she must be feeling.

Warm wet liquid sprayed my face, jolting me, pulling my attention back ever to present violent situation occurring across the table. My hand of its own accord reached up and brushed my fingers across my cheek, smearing the fluid. I looked down and felt slightly disconnected as I saw the bright red arterial blood coating the pads of my middle and index fingers. The smoke surrounding the creature covered Dumbledore; however, its growling failed to muffle the last sound that the bane of my existence would ever make and one I certainly would never forget. A cut off scream that was followed by a wet gurgling choking noise; I couldn't bask in his death before I was yanked sideways off the chair. Hermione's smaller hands were doing a surprisingly good job of manhandling me, even if it was just onto the floor.

"Wait, I need to see!" I hissed at her, and I did need to see. I needed to make that this was real and not just a wild fantasy. I wanted the man dead; it had been number one on my list for like forever. But, part of me realised now that while it was happening that I didn't really believe it would become an eventuality- that the back and forth would just continue until he died of old age. An unnatural wind kicked up in the café, a miniature tornado erupting and the creature dragging Dumbledore's limp body towards it. I kept my eyes open, not wanting to miss a thing against the sting of the harsh wind making my eyes water.

"Tom!" I could hear Hermione yelling at me, but I ignored her. She kept yelling, but the sound of the wind and the persistent pounding in my ears made it difficult. I could only feel the warmth of her fingers as they curled around the collar of my shirt, pulling it taunt and her blunt nails catching on that sensitive skin. Seconds or minutes passed before it dissipated and Dumbledore was gone, lost to the abyss. I remained sitting on the tiled floor, trying to process everything that had happened. The lights came back on, like that moment in at the end of an evening at a club when the lights get turned on, and it brings everything into a bright stark focus. I could clearly see the streak the blood; a bold stroke on a canvas. Chairs and tables were strewn haphazardly, and a scorch mark at the epicentre was all that was left of the entity. I blinked trying to refocus, perhaps see something different, feel something different.

Hermione moved to kneel in front of my line of vision; she held such concern and worry in her eyes that it made my breath hitch; my lungs burned.

"Tom...god Tom" her voice cracked and eyes filled with salty moisture that was not deserved on my part. Her small hands cupped my face, and her eyes darted around my face searching for something; of what I couldn't discern. I could barely think.

"I would hug you but..." I sounded exhausted, almost slurring my words.

She smiled and released a small, breathy laugh despite her tear-stained face. "Yeah, you look like shit Tom, not your usual impeccable self". I tried to smile, but it probably resembled a grimace. "Let's get you back to the Manor and get you cleaned up". I reluctantly let the elves assist both of us, there was no way that I could get myself back there. My legs were still wobbly, and I could minimally hold my weight, but gravity had other ideas. Normally I would have been pissed about this, being treated like a child, but I was too much in my own head to really care.

Later...

I let the water sluice over my body, and I could feel both the temperature and the pressure carefully loosening the knots in my back. If I were candid with myself, I would have recognised that I was in a mild state of shock. At first, I was in denial about it, but I can't deny the hollow feeling forming in my chest. I want to wrap my hands around his neck and crush him beneath my fingertips, for leaving me this way- it was unacceptable. I had always used the giant pit of bitter resentment as the fuel that drove everything in my life...now I felt a little off course; off the beaten path without a map. I was ashamed to admit I wasn't sure what to do; my life had literally revolved around Dumbledore and in hindsight that was even more humiliating. My obsession with the man had cost me more than I realised. The tiles were cool beneath my forehead, my skin sticking slightly as I pulled back. I won't surrender to this life and drag me under; I won't let the older man win even in death- because I know more than anyone that death isn't a finality.

After dressing, I made my way back down the winding hallways of Malfoy Manor and to the dining room where we said we would meet. My stomach was rumbling, and all the adrenalin had exited my system and left me starving for food. Everyone was gathered around the new dining table, engaged in multiple conversations except Severus; he remained pale and clutching his mug like it was his lifeline.

"Alright there, Sev?" I called out to Severus, causing the other occupants to cease their chatter. The man turned his dark eyes on me; the depth of his sadness was clearly visible. A spark of anger flared in my gut, Dumbledore destroyed this man; and while I know, I was a little hypocritical, at least I didn't hide my intentions, you kind of got what you saw. Dumbledore, however, hid almost everything, manipulating the entirety of wizarding Britain. There was more clarity, now and I thought I was well dialled into Dumbledore- and I was, I saw, what most were never privy too. But just seeing this group, I could see how Dumbledore had affected each of their lives in varying degrees- especially Mr Potter. I had perspective.

Speaking of Harry, I watched as he slowly rose off the chair next to Hermione. We hadn't met yet (as just Tom), and I had done so until I knew we had him on board with Hermione and I's plan.

"Mr Potter", I quirked an eyebrow trying to go for casual indifference. I didn't want to provoke a situation, quite frankly I was too tired to argue with a teenage boy.

His brows knitted together as if assessing me like I was a complicated puzzle.

"Vol-" Hermione circled Harry's wrist, causing him to rethink what he was going to say. I braced for a torrent of verbal recriminations, and I would weather whatever he had to say- for Hermione. His eyes became flinty, and his nostrils flared slightly, along with the clenching of his jaw- that I did understand; the biting of the tongue to hold back flinging castigations. Possibly I deserved them. Maybe. Probably. Instead after a silent conversation with Hermione using only their eyes (I was supremely envious of this) he hesitantly moved to stand in front of me. I felt on display, and I had to use every restraint I had to hold back from shifting uncomfortably. He stuck his hand out, confident I would accept this muggle social convention. While he had a sweet smile that makes many mothers throw their daughters at him, his eyes shifted like he was imagining, he was beating me to death with whatever blunt instrument was in reach. I could respect a good murder fantasy. I let a smug knowing smile break out across my face, making sure it was wide and showed a lot of teeth- a reminder of who was the real predator in this room.

"Alright Tom, stop that."

I frowned, merlin can everyone read me now?

"What?" I smiled innocently as I could, I haven't tried that look out in decades.

"Please we all know you're about as innocent as a school of flesh-eating Piranhas", Draco spluttered and coughed trying to hold in a burst of laughter unsuccessfully. I zeroed in on him and gave him a stern glare, which shut him up rather quickly.

I let Hermione pull me over to a vacant chair. However, I resisted sitting. I needed to stand...sitting right at this moment held no appeal. The silence stretched, not uncomfortably, but there was a heavy trepidation that everyone seemed hesitant to break. This was a turning point, but the hardship hasn't ended. Dumbledore dying will cause significant friction amongst the wizarding population of Britain, many who won't believe that he had anything other than their best interests at heart. We have to be prepared for that sudden backlash.

"Hermione didn't tell us much, is it true that Dumbledore finally met his demise?" Lucius tentatively ripped the band-aid off the moment. I sighed; the initial weight that briefly left my shoulders was now back tenfold.

"Yes, he is finally gone, not the way I had envisioned but..." I wasn't sure how to finish. He wasn't supposed to die just yet; it was too early. Our plans hadn't factored in early death, because we still needed our messages to permeate the public.

"Good riddance, I say. Who cares how the old coot died; we needed him dead, he's dead. Now what?" Draco, while summarising most of our thoughts, failed to capture the complexities of the situation.

"It's not that simple Draco. Now his sudden death looks like we assassinated him, and it's going to be an uphill battle to convince them we had nothing to do with it. I mean I know we did, a little, but ultimately it was Dumbledore's own plans that got himself killed. Honestly, I don't care about him dying" Hermione paused, and I had the feeling that there was some small part of herself that she wasn't truthful with. This had to affect her on a secondary level; she wasn't like me; she didn't have an inherent coldness and lack of empathy. She had for the most of her schooling career at Hogwarts worshipped this man, and it wasn't until recently that his deception came to light; there is no way she could just push that aside so quickly. "He deserved it," Hermione spoke those three words with such conviction, punctuated by the movement of her clenched fist. I don't know who she was trying to convince more, Harry or herself; because no one else particularly cared about the dead man. "But...but now we have to prepare for how we are going to react when the information gets out..."

"May I interject an observation?" Narcissa asked politely to the rest of the room. But before waiting for a response, she just ploughed on confidently staring down everyone. " at this point, no one knows that Albus is dead except for everyone here in the Manor. If we don't broadcast to the world that Albus is dead and deny any accusations- they cannot do anything about it. What evidence do they have?" The room slipped into a thoughtful silence, but not for long.

"But won't they find us being tight-lipped suspicious?" Harry frowned, starting to realise the fight is a long way from being over.

"They will come around trying to infiltrate us to get information" Draco blurted out, my eyebrows rose at his tone.

"What?" Hermione asked. To be honest, I don't think she was questioning the validity of the statement, because that is something the Order would try to do. But that she wasn't really paying attention to the conversation going on around her.

"What? What? My natural state is paranoia. Slytherin remember; key trait self-preservation." Draco pointed to himself, looking like a proud child showing off their first finger painting.

"You say that like it's a good thing?"

"Staying alive is a good thing Potter out of all people I would think you would know that", a smug smile pulled at his lips as he slumped back in the dining chair, folding his arms across his chest.

"You would make a terrible spy" Harry declared shaking his head, bemused, while Draco's face morphed into indignant.

"Hey! I would make an excellent spy thank you very much, the best really as I don't do what you Gryffindork's do and plough right into situations without well-detailed plans and contingencies" Draco huffed and mumbled a few other words under his breath. I rolled my eyes at the immaturity.

"Whatever you say 007" and I watched as Harry leaned over and flicked Draco's ear. I turned away from their childish amusements and focused in on Hermione. Despite the recent hardships and looking worn; her inner light hasn't dimmed. It still blazes just as brightly as the night I had really seen her in the forbidden forest.

Human emotions were a fickle thing. I spent so long ignoring them, so long pretending like they weren't there, that when I finally allowed Hermione in and allowed myself to feel... it felt like I was reborn. I was no longer a man ravaged by war and corruption, no longer someone who fell to the dark side only to claw themselves back out. When I kiss her, listening to her little moans of pleasure against my mouth, I realise, know the man I was when we met and the man I am now couldn't be further apart. I love her, yes, but that barely scores the surface. Our connection runs so much deeper, and I feel her burrowing into my chest, making herself a home there, filling my cold heart with her smiles and laughs. Hermione saw the good in me...no not necessarily saw good...but something worth cultivating where no one else did.

She smiles and makes her way over to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. I bury my face into her hair and just breathe in her scent. There's no hint of the disgusting sulphurous rotten egg that clung relentlessly to our clothes and skin only hours ago. She smelled of her usual floral botanicals with a hint of macadamia, and I feel more balanced than I had ever been. I keep my eyes closed relishing in the feeling, we had nearly lost each other for the second or third time in as many weeks, and it wasn't something I wanted to go through again so soon.

"How about we just leave the conversation until tomorrow and just have tonight off, I think we all deserve it, don't you?" I relaxed against her; reluctantly agreeing that I was too tired to have to sit through explanations and speculations relating to what happened.

"I can agree with that."

"It won't make a difference to the situation waiting until tomorrow", a shy coy look came over her before she continued, "We could go upstairs and cuddle in bed and do a crossword puzzle or read.." I tried to capture her eyes, but she managed to avoid them, "I just want to do something simple, normal; I just want to be close to you" I felt a slight uneasiness inside my chest at the thought she would think I wouldn't want to do something to reassure ourselves that we are in fact alive and well. It is not something I would have done previously- in fact. I would have considered it weak. Now, while vocalising my desires is difficult, I can appreciate the comfort in the act of lying or sitting together wrapped up in a blanket.

"That sounds perfect", this time she looked at me, and a small smile appeared, before she again buried her face into me, this time in the juncture of my neck and shoulder. I could feel her soft breath against my skin, and I sunk into the emotions that that small action evoked; it resembled a lot like contentment.

Hermione POV

Three days later

It was a warm day, and I stood out in a field near Malfoy Manor. The last three days was another emotional upheaval for Harry. Tom and I worked solidly for two days to manipulate the familial magic to be able to test if the bones were, in fact, his parents.

They were.

All of us, to some degree, had already known that they were the Potters, but having confirmation wasn't a victory in any sense. We would never completely understand what happened that night, other than they were killed, and Dumbledore had something to do with it. In a way, it was closure for him, a proper goodbye- a way to close the door on his past and move forward finally. I was proud to be Harry's friend at this moment; he held himself with grace and dignity. It also helped me say goodbye to Malia- her death I would never forget, whether the whole thing was real or not.

Dumbledore's departure felt a little anticlimactic. Not to say that that was a bad thing. It seems fitting that he didn't go out in a blaze of glory, which I honestly thought it would come down to him and Tom duking it out again. The thought of that often had my stomach twisted in knots, because I could never be sure of the outcome. At least this way it was a relatively quiet death, a small footnote in the annals of wizarding history. It would have galled the man, to not be the centre of attention even in death.

All of us had been gathered here to bury the bones, and it wasn't something we could do in Godric's Hollow. Nonetheless, the small ceremony was beautiful and meaningful. Severus was the only one who really knew the Potter's out of the seven of us, he spoke eloquently and was so overcome with emotion that he couldn't finish. My cheeks were wet and stinging throughout, while I gripped Tom's hand so tightly it had to have hurt, but he didn't say anything.

I pulled Harry into a hug, interrupting his conversation with Draco. I was pleasantly surprised that the two had become fast friends, even though I am positive that they would deny such a thing. Even Narcissa had claimed Harry as part of the family and set him up in the Manor; we were becoming a misfit version of a family. A group of people that seemingly wouldn't come together have under a peculiar and dangerous set of circumstances.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I am fine, Hermione, really, I am. This was the last piece that I needed to move on, and I'm glad you're here with me to do that." he offered a weak smile and ran his hand through his unruly hair, and I had an inkling of what he was going to say next. "I just...I kind of miss Ron, you know? It felt like he should have been here, even though I know he can't and things would be worse...but maybe one day" I pulled him in for another hug, squeezing tightly.

"One day, Harry, we will be able to sit down with Ron and talk about everything...just not soon. I doubt we will be welcomed by the Order anytime in the future" I pulled back hearing Narcissa call out for Harry, they were putting the finishing touches on the gravestone. "Go", I said as I kissed his cheek and patted his arm. My eyes left him and searched for where Tom was standing off in the distance, staring out at the horizon in contemplation.

I didn't quiet my approach, so he would have heard me coming. I felt like I was intruding on his peaceful moment; I noticed that he did this a lot more than usual lately. But we all were to a degree, as we had more to think about once Dumbledore's death finally broke.

He turned and looked at me; he didn't say anything he didn't have too. Tom at times has such an intensity about him, the way he watches me, cataloguing every detail, the way he is staring at me now- it develops a tension between the two of us, that usually ends up with us making out like teenagers. I do it too; however, Harry commented at times that he noted me staring unabashedly at Tom while he worked. I wanted to know everything about Tom; remember everything. I wanted to know him blind. I wanted to recognise him by the way he smelled, the way his fingers glided over my skin, the variations in his breathing, the way his feet struck the earth and the way he tasted. I was all in.

Finally, Tom cleared his throat, eyes moving off to do a sweep of the windswept plain, ostensibly checking for threats. With it, the moment snapped, like when you stretched and shot a rubber band. Tom reached out and twined his fingers with mine, gently pulling me into his embrace.

"Do you think everything will be alright?" I quietly asked Tom took so long to answer that I started to think he didn't hear me. Instead, he brushed his hands over my hair and cupping my neck, tilting my head back to kiss my forehead.

"Time, my dear Hermione, in its infinite ceaseless flow, carries us all along, unable to resist its pressure. Whether we deserve to be worthy of mention or not, we are all eventually drowned in the depths of obscurity. My point is that in time all of this will pass and people will forget. It will be alright in time; this isn't the end".

I absorbed his words and tossed them around in my head, and it was painfully true that in time people will forget what happened, they will move on with their lives, just as we are trying to do. I watched the others still milling around the Potter's gravestone, and thought that we would be ok.

This wasn't the end; this was just the beginning.