The second of May dawned with a furious rainstorm. Drops began to lash at the windows around two in the morning, crackles of thunder rustling students from their beds. Only those beneath the lake had peace and quiet, the noise of the storm muffled by the mass of water.
Harry woke late, about an hour before lunch. He dressed in Muggle clothes, moving through his morning routine without thinking, and it wasn't until he entered the Slytherin common room and saw his friends' stony faces that he remembered today's date.
"Afternoon, Harry," said Luna. Harry was surprised to see her, both in the dungeons and without her girlfriend. She held out a small, twisted circle of plants, made of heather, reeds, and some sort of stem with soft, green leaves. "Wear this."
"Oh - thanks." Harry took the bracelet and slipped it onto his wrist. Ron, Hermione, and Draco were all wearing one, though Draco looked less than thrilled about it. Luna was wearing five on either wrist and her hair was adorned with a few, which appeared accidental. "What are these for?"
"Mourning rings," Luna replied gravely. "Calms the spirit in times of grief."
"Thank you," Harry said, touched. He brushed the leaves curiously; his spirit didn't feel calmer, exactly, but it wasn't in turmoil.
"Now that you're here, let's get lunch," Ron suggested suddenly, standing from the sofa. He smiled casually, but Harry could tell that it was forced. His blue eyes were unnaturally bright with the sheen of held-back tears. Harry knew he must have been remembering, too: the spell-shot mayhem, the smoking wreckage. Young, ashy faces staring lifelessly from the dust.
Hermione took her boyfriend's hand and squeezed it. She knew exactly how he felt.
Draco's expression was carefully blank as the group walked to the dining hall. Harry could only guess how he was feeling; only a year prior, Draco had been on the side of murderers, destroyers, people who had stopped at nothing to strike down the students of Hogwarts. All that was over now, but Draco would still have the memories: tearing through the castle, trusting no one, fighting a battle he'd never wanted to be a part of.
"Hi," Ollie nodded to his friends as they joined him and Owen at the Hufflepuff table.
"Hey. Where's Erin?" Harry asked.
"Picking a bouquet for the vigil," Ollie replied. "One of our close friends died during the battle." His face darkened, and Owen patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"Raina's in a better place now," He said gently. "We'll see her again."
"I hope that's true," Ollie murmured.
"I'm going to find Ginny," Luna announced. "Harry, Draco, I'll come for you after lunch. I want to show you something."
"Okay. See you later," Harry replied, and she drifted off. "So…there's a vigil?"
"One of these days, Harry, you'll check the bulletin, and everything will stop being news to you," Hermione sighed. "Pass the smashed peas, please."
Lunch was eaten in near silence, but there wasn't much to say. No one felt like speaking, each painfully aware of the empty spaces where their friends used to be. Her hair damp, Erin joined them about halfway through, holding a dewy bunch of daffodils tied with a black ribbon. Oliver handed her a bowl of soup, and no one said a word when she began to weep, futilely wiping at the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
Two gentle hands landed on Harry's and Draco's shoulders soon enough. "Let's go," came Luna's soft voice, and they followed.
The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle. Harry wavered at the threshold, realizing he didn't have a cloak.
"Always come prepared, Potter," Draco scolded, his voice holding no real anger. "Here." He miraculously pulled two cloaks from his satchel and handed Harry one.
"Thank you." Harry cast a Water Repelling charm on it, then asked Luna, "Do you need anything?"
"No." Luna, barefoot and clad in a floaty, purple sundress, stepped out from the shelter of the eaves, her silver eyes looking dreamily to the cloudy heavens. "I like rain."
The three of them picked their way down the slope, Luna leading, her silhouette outlined by a misty halo. The grass was slippery, and Harry nearly fell a couple of times, but Draco grabbed him before he sent them all sliding down the hill. Hagrid's hut, empty and smokeless, stood as a forlorn figure at the edge of the forest. Unkempt pumpkin vines grew wild over the roof, a few ends nudging at the windows. Harry and Draco removed their cloak hoods as they entered the Forbidden Forest, the thickly grown trees providing enough cover from the drops.
Luna walked silently ahead, opening the bag hanging at her waist. Harry caught the scent of raw meat, pungent, and gamey.
Draco frowned as they entered a clearing, the same one in which he'd been attacked by Buckbeak all those years ago. "What are we…?"
"Shh." Harry rested a hand on his arm to stop him, and they both came to a standstill. Luna continued forward, palming a chunk of bloody meat. She hummed, soft and slow, and Harry recognized the tune.
Several dark shapes rustled in the bushes. Draco stiffened in apprehension. "Thestrals?" He whispered, and Harry nodded.
Three black, four-legged creatures, their leathery skin stretched thin over their skeletons, stepped forward into the clearing. The biggest one clicked its beak-like mouth expectantly, and Luna threw the meat towards it. The beast caught it smoothly, sharp teeth tearing into the flesh. Draco gave a little noise of alarm, but Luna was unafraid. The other two thestrals flapped their wings impatiently, and Luna tossed them pieces, too.
"Come closer," She said, turning to the two boys. "They won't bite, so long as you don't put your hands near their mouths."
"Who would have known," Draco muttered. He seemed hesitant to approach, but Harry rested a hand on the small of his back, guiding him forward.
"Here." Luna held out her bag to them. Draco made a face, reluctant to touch raw meat, but he gamely took a piece and threw it. The nearest thestral snapped it out of the air and chewed viciously. Draco shrieked and took a few hurried steps back.
"I thought you liked animals?" Harry teased as he tossed a chunk of meat.
"I'm not terribly fond of the ones that might kill me, if you must know," Draco replied, shuddering.
"They should be here soon," Luna murmured, squinting into the shadows. She whistled, low and steady. "Come on, little one. Bring your mama."
Two other thestrals slowly ambled into the clearing. One of them was just a baby, wobbly on its spindly legs. The other was also unsteady, clearly limping as her offspring nudged her forward. Harry inhaled sharply as the thestral's hind legs came into view. The left one was severely injured, a gash running diagonally through her flesh. Dark blood oozed thick and shiny from it; the wound couldn't have been more than a week old.
"What happened?" Draco asked.
"Don't know. Something probably bit her, look," Luna indicated with her hand. The edges of the cut were ragged as if torn with teeth. "A wolf, maybe. There are a lot of dangerous things in here."
"Both human and animal," Harry agreed quietly.
"Yes." Luna turned to Draco. "Can you help her?"
"Me?" Draco frowned. "What about the Care of Magical Creatures professor?"
"She's been on leave for a couple of weeks - Acromantula bite. I didn't know who else to go to," Luna confessed, wringing her hands worriedly. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't work with animals, usually. And she won't go near thestrals. You're good at healing all kinds of living beings, aren't you?"
"You are?" Harry asked his boyfriend, puzzled.
"I suppose." Draco reached into his robes for his wand. "We had a lot of Dark creatures on our - on the Death Eater side. They didn't let me on the front lines often, so I did a lot of healing. I don't know if I'm better than the average wizard, though."
"It wouldn't hurt to try," said Harry.
Draco nodded. "Hold her steady," he told Luna.
Luna carefully reached forward, patting the thestral's flank as the beast skittered nervously. "It's okay," She soothed, rubbing her hand over its leathery hide. "He's going to help."
Draco took a deep breath, then began to chant in Latin, repeating a phrase as he passed his wand over the wound. "Sanguine et ossibus, se reuniret. Sanguine et ossibus, se reuniret." Slowly, the flesh and skin began to knit together, blood flowing back into the body, the gash closing. After a minute or so of chanting, the thestral's wound had wholly vanished, and Draco withdrew his wand.
Luna beamed. "You did it!" The baby thestral burbled happily, its mother bending down to nudge noses. "Thank you, Draco."
"You're welcome…" Draco swayed on the spot, eyelids fluttering. He stumbled, and Harry caught him, trying to keep him upright.
"Is he all right?" Luna said worriedly, rushing forward to help. "He should sit down."
"Yeah." Harry half-carried Draco to a nearby tree, letting him slump against it. Harry pressed a hand to his forehead - he was cold and clammy. "Draco?"
Draco blearily blinked awake. "Oh - sorry. That much healing magic is taxing. I would have rather done it with potions." He sighed, letting his head rest against the bark.
"I'm sorry," Luna said, kneeling next to him.
"No, no…it's fine. It's just been a while since I've performed a spell like that. I'll be all right in a minute."
The other two waited for Draco to catch his breath. Overhead, the drizzle continued, a few drops running through the leaves and dripping onto their heads. The thestrals waited around for a bit, then retreated back into the dark forest.
"Ready." Draco struggled to his feet, leaning against the tree.
"Hey, careful." Harry held him steady, then linked their arms. "Hold on to me."
"I can walk by myself, Potter," Draco grumbled, but he didn't pull away. "I'm only letting you help me because you're so cute."
Harry grinned. "Fine by me."
"Onward we go, then," Luna said gaily, skipping ahead of them.
As they emerged from the forest, a bit of sunshine nudged its way through the blanket of clouds. The rain didn't slow, so Draco and Harry pulled up their hoods again. The light turned the drops golden, making the dewy grass sparkle, and at certain angles, Harry could see hints of a rainbow in the atmosphere.
Luna began to sing as they trudged up the hill. "Bend like the willows, my dear, my dear, sift through the clouds, my dear, my dear…Send me a letter, tied with a feather, before you go over the mountains, my dear."
The tune followed a loosely structured pattern, but all in all, Luna seemed to be making it up as she went along, adding verses about cliffside waterfalls, heather-covered hills, steamy jungles, and forest floors covered in ferns. Her sweet voice was carried by a breeze, echoing off the castle walls. The song seemed to last forever, or a moment, Harry couldn't tell which, and before he knew it, Luna had stopped, and they were standing at the entry.
"Where'd you learn that?" Draco asked, who looked as dazed as Harry felt.
"I don't know," Luna said thoughtfully. "I think I've heard it before…from my mother, maybe? It's blurry." She picked up the hem of her dress and wrung it out, spattering the cobblestones with water. "Oh, dear. I should change; I don't think waterlog-chic is appropriate for a candlelit vigil."
• • •
A river of black robes ran from Hogwarts castle to the Black Lake. The students walked in one enormous, slow-moving mass, their faces downcast. Houses were made irrelevant on this day. Every one of them knew someone who had died a year prior. Every one of them felt each other's pain. Friends and couples alike held hands, leaning on each other, putting arms around shoulders. Suspended above each of their heads was a candle, its enchanted, golden flame unwavering in the wind.
Some students held bunches of flowers, a paper lantern, and a glossy, moving photograph. Ron had one depicting Fred's grinning, carefree face; Draco held Crabbe's photo. Erin clutched a picture of a girl Harry did not recognize, with strawberry-blonde curls, a round face, and an infectious smile; Ollie and Owen occasionally glanced at her, forlornly.
Harry walked surrounded by his friends, the candlelight dimly illuminating their faces. Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they reached the shore; boats upon boats were docked there, ready to push off. Hermione clambered in first, helping in Harry, Draco, Ron, and Henrietta. The vessels filled quickly and cast off automatically, heading for the deeper parts of the Black Lake.
Hundreds of candles cast a glow over the surface, and Harry thought he spotted flashes of mermaid scales, and once, the massive, scarlet form of the giant squid. The boats floated in a crowded semicircle around the largest one, where Headmistress McGonagall and the four house heads stood, all dressed in black. Despite not being present for the battle, Professor Dahlia looked as solemn as the others, bowing her head as the students gathered.
McGonagall touched her wand to her throat. "Children of Hogwarts." Her amplified voice swept over the crowd, and all whispers ceased. "On this day, a year ago, our castle's walls were breached by Lord Voldemort and his followers."
Draco, standing next to Harry, stiffened. Harry held out his hand; Draco took it gratefully.
"Our friends, family, and classmates fought hard against the invasion. Many sacrifices were made, and eventually, Voldemort and his army were vanquished. Tonight, we remember the brave warriors who fought for their families, their friends, their lives. We remember those who perished in battle.
"It was not their turn to die." McGonagall's voice broke, and Harry felt a lump form in his throat. "Our children may have been of age, but they were taken too soon - not by fate, but by death, unjust and merciless. We cannot forget our brave friends. We will not forget. Tonight, a year later, we honor their memory. We honor their sacrifice. And we remind ourselves that because of them, we live on. We hold fast to life, to love, to hope.
"We, the survivors, must never give up on hope. Those who died clung to it with their very last breath."
That old leaden feeling of guilt had risen in Harry's chest. You could have saved them, a voice inside him whispered. But I did everything I could.
"Hogwarts, we cannot be foolish," McGonagall continued. "Our friends' memories will live on forever. But do not dwell on their deaths. Do not think that it's your fault, that with another step, another spell, you could have saved them." Her glasses flashed in the firelight, head turning slightly in Harry's direction, and he had the eerie feeling that she'd read his mind. "To do so would dishonor them. Think of the life they lived, the precious moments you spent with them. Hold them close to your heart."
McGonagall reached down, picked up a scroll of parchment, and unraveled it. "The poem I will recite was written by a half-blood, the Ravenclaw daughter of a pureblood Slytherin and a Muggleborn Hufflepuff. She lived between worlds, rich and poor, magical and Muggle. She fought in the First Wizarding War even as her family was torn asunder by Voldemort. I'm sure many of you have known that kind of pain." She looked around at the students, and Harry was sure her gaze rested on Draco for a moment. McGonagall cleared her throat and began to read aloud.
Life withers and love crumbles
Metropolis, jungle alike
Like sunshine, temporary
In its merciless cycle
And yet I linger on
With no hand to hold
And no heart to bear
Exist to survive
Time ticks on and on and on
Love crumbles and peace lasts not
Inferno rages through home and frontier
Child's eyes wrinkle
Squint to miss the wells of blood
Innocent hide and innocence remain
Spare me the sermon
And linger on
McGonagall paused, letting her voice ring gravely across the lake. The students shifted uneasily; the poem seemed awfully bleak. But the headmistress cleared her throat and read the last two verses.
When the smoke clears
Look to the sky
Breathe the soot from your lungs
Bring me not flowers but dawns
Lend me your dusk
Twilight fading in its merciful cycle
Linger on
Until our bones fall to ash
And ash spun to silk
The scroll snapped closed with a bright sort of finality. Murmurs rolled through the crowd, mulling over the words.
"Puts a bit of a damper on things, doesn't it?" Ron remarked quietly.
"I think it's realistic," Hermione said reasonably. "We've been through a lot; there's no use in denying it. But in the end, we have each other. We do our best with what we've been left with." She looked up at the candles floating above their heads. "'Ash spun to silk.'"
A fog, remnants of the day's rain, began to roll across the surface of the lake. It wisped into the boats, making everyone appear as if they were floating. At the head boat, McGonagall retrieved items from within her flowing robes: a paper lantern, a wreath of yellow flowers, and a photograph of someone that Harry thought must be Dumbledore. McGonagall reached up and grasped a candle. She lit the lantern, its flame's light ballooning within the thin paper, and affixed the photo to a clip inside. McGonagall placed the wreath on the water, then the lantern, and with her wand, caused both objects to float as one entity.
All around the lake, students followed her example. Hermione helped Ron with Fred's picture and Harry with Draco's photo of Crabbe. Henrietta leaned over the edge and attached flowers to both. Pinpricks of light pierced the fog, glowing between the boats, and the lake's surface grew bright and shimmery as fifty lanterns were set upon it. McGonagall made a large sweeping motion with her wand, and they all began to drift away, lighting up the darkness beyond.
As they watched the lanterns fade into the night, Harry felt the tight knot within his chest unravel. The guilt, the regret, all flowed out of his eyes without him being able to stop it. The pause they'd taken from the bustle of life, to remember the dead, had finally melted something within him, a coldness in his heart that he hadn't even realized was there.
He couldn't stop himself from crying, so he didn't even try.
Henrietta knelt in the boat, her head in her arms as she solemnly watched the lights float away, her cheeks wet. Ron and Hermione held hands, leaning against each other for support.
Draco's face was dry, but Harry could feel him shaking when Draco gathered him in his arms. Harry was couldn't even be embarrassed as he wept into Draco's shoulder; he was somehow relieved to let it all out. Hands gripped his shoulders with a firm comfort. Draco's lips moved almost soundlessly, telling him, it's okay, I'm here, Harry, you're safe now.
When the candlelit lanterns disappeared, the stars came out, glimmering warmly above the fog. Eyes cast to the heavens, hearts full, hands supporting, the students of Hogwarts found peace in one another for the first time in a year.
