Fair warning: extra long chapter ahead. But, I hope you enjoy it!
The next few weeks slipped by as easily as the sun slips below the horizon and soon, the sun dawned on a new month. It shone bright over the sky, stretching its rays across the few scudding clouds, celebrating the mark of a year passing since the Battle of Hogwarts. Since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Since the triumph of light. Since the dawning of a new era.
Yet, for all the brightness that the day promised, Grimmauld Place was filled not with garrulous chatter, but with a silent reverie as the three wizards picked at their breakfasts. Harry moved his spoon about his still half-full bowl of cereal, contemplating the coming day and the storm of emotion within him. A year ago today, he had ended Voldemort's reign of terror and the fear that had gripped the country for years. A year ago today, he had discovered he was the final horcrux and walked willingly to his death in that forest. A year ago today, he had lost Remus, the last connection to his parents, Tonks, orphaning his godson, and Fred, leaving the Weasleys and his world with too little laughter. Plus, they had lost so many of his fellow students from across all of the Houses, some too young to even legally cast a spell without adult supervision. While his friends, and really family at this point, had convinced him that their deaths were not his fault and that burden had slowly been lifted off his shoulders within the past few months, their faces still swam in his vision when he closed his eyes at night. He still woke to nightly terrors from his past and while talking briefly about them almost every morning with Ron did lessen the sweating and rapid heart rate and even brought him back too reality a little sooner, it did nothing to stop the lost hours of sleep or the searing pain in his scars or the terror that numbed his body and felt far too real.
The day was already planned out, almost to the minute, yet Harry couldn't help but wonder what the next twenty four hours had in store for him. As per a new Ministry order, the second of May was now a national holiday for the wizarding community and so, work at the Ministry was cancelled, as well as most other business, and no classes would be held at Hogwarts for the day. A memorial service would be held at Hogwarts and all of those who fought were invited as well as key officials who played a part in the long struggle.
"Crazy, innit?" Ron whispered, a hand running through his red hair.
Harry started, his eyes snapping back into focus. "What d'you say?"
"It's crazy," he repeated. "A year ago…"
"Yeah," Harry agreed somberly, knowing exactly what his best friend meant without needing to shed any words.
"That's one word for it," George huffed and stood from the table brusquely, grabbing his plate and carrying it to the sink.
"Ready for the ceremony?" Ron asked, ignoring his brother's sour response.
"I guess," Harry shrugged. "Don't really know what to expect."
"At least you don't have to give a speech," Ron said, attempting a warm smile.
"True. But I'm sure there will be plenty of others."
Ron sighed and followed George to the sink, leaving Harry sitting at the table by himself. Eventually, Harry sighed heavily and left the table too before they took turns stepping into the fireplace to floo straight to the school rather than apparating to Hogsmeade and walking like the other guests.
Harry had flooed to his office at least twice a week for the past few months and had stepped onto the same wooden floor more times than he could count; yet this time felt undeniably different. This time, an air of expectancy awaited him and once they walked out of the classroom, the quiet hallways rustled with only a few scarce sounds that echoed throughout the walls. The students, from first years to seventh years alike, apparently all understood the weight of this day and their usual laughing jokes and loud conversations were silenced by the day's significance, leaving only muted remarks and the scuffling of feet.
The three wizards were silent too as they walked, studying the thick walls of the castle that once seemed impenetrable and unbreakable. They navigated the stone maze without having to think about it: they turned simultaneously, walked up the same steps, and headed towards the same hidden short-cuts without a word passing between them.
At the portrait hole to the Gryffindor Common Room, both wizards turned to Harry, neither knowing the password.
Harry sighed and glared at the Fat Lady in her frilly pink dress. "Are you really going to make me say it? Or can you just let us in?"
"What kind of guardian would I be if I just let in every person who came in here?" she said haughtily in her chair. "You could be using Polyjuice Potion for all I know."
Harry rolled his eyes but capitulated. "Fine. 'The Boy Who Lived.' "
The Fat Lady nodded. "Indeed, indeed," she said in a sing-song voice while the painting swung open.
"Really? That's the password!?" Ron whispered as George ducked under the hole.
"My thoughts exactly," Harry murmured back darkly and followed the two into the room.
"Tactless," Ron muttered with a shake of his head.
It was truly a day for the history books when Ron could teach another about tact, Harry thought, smiling to himself.
When he emerged on the other side, he barely noticed the familiar red walls and the radio singing softly in one corner. Instead, he saw a room full of pale faces staring unblinkingly at him and, he noticed with some relief, Ron. The hushed conversations turned even quieter and only the older students had the manners to turn away quickly when he looked at them. For a brief moment, Harry saw a silent version of the D.A. staring at them when they first arrived in the Room of Requirement from Hogsmeade a year ago, but the exuberance and hopefulness was gone, replaced instead by awkward gawking.
But then, at one end, Ginny popped up, initially hidden by another student, and picked her way through the crowded room towards them.
"Sorry about… this," she said quietly, motioning to the room around them. "McGonagall gave a speech to everyone this morning over breakfast and this is the result." She smiled apologetically, then continued with a louder voice. "But apparently, she should have given a speech about having some decent manners!"
Like a whip, the heads of the few students who were still avidly staring at the war heroes snapped away from them and blushed a scarlet to rival that of the walls.
Ginny leaned in closer so that only the three of them could hear. "Hermione's up in our room hiding from all of these gits. I'll go grab her and then we can leave."
Harry let his lips curve into a small smile, but Ginny was gone before he could say anything, her red hair swinging in a sheet behind her.
George cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Haven't been back here in awhile." He looked around, examining the room as if he was trying to spot all the miniscule differences.
"It's always nice to come back here," Ron commented and he fell backwards so that his back leaned against the curved wall of the room.
"It always reminds me of our school days," Harry replied.
"Yeah, except those gits are in our spot," Ron said, motioning with his head towards the group of five students crowded in the armchairs and small sofa by the fireplace.
"If only they knew what historic cushions their backsides are gracing," George smirked, eyeing the group of kids who suddenly became aware that they were being looked at and their voices lowered even more.
"Think we should tell them? Then they'd let us sit there," Ron mused.
Harry rolled his eyes. "They'd let us sit there anyways."
"True." He glanced in the other direction suddenly and caught another two tables full of students staring at them, two which were uncowed by Ron's gaze. "Are they usually like this?"
"The first week or two, yeah. But I thought everyone was used to me being around by now. Well, except for some of the first and second years who I don't teach and didn't go to school with us," Harry answered with a philosophical shrug.
"I wonder what McGonagall said," George added.
"I don't think I want to know," Harry responded ruefully.
The heads in the room swung towards the staircase where Hermione was walking towards them, her head held high as Ginny smirked behind her. If Harry didn't know Hermione as well as he did, he would never have guessed that she was aware of or bothered by the blatant staring in her direction.
"Shall we?" she said as soon as she stood before them. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her way through the portrait hole and out into the stone lined corridor. Hermione breathed a breath of fresh air, as if she was stepping into a forest after a morning of rain rather than into a stale hallway after a painful morning of being the topic for murmured conversations.
"I can't stand all the staring!" she exclaimed, her hands being thrown up in exasperation and stalking down the corridor with the rest of them quickly hurrying after her. "And the whispering! It's like I'm not even in the room to those people!"
"Welcome to my world," Harry muttered darkly to Ginny. She smiled and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his as a muted form of consolation.
"Well yes," Hermione conceded, apparently overhearing his comment. "I've been thinking that all day! I don't know how you can stand it and it's only ten in the morning!"
"You've had people talk about you before though," Ron said to her. "Like when everyone thought you and Harry were having some sort of scandalous affair in our fourth year. Or nowadays when we're walking around and someone recognizes us."
"But this is different," she said simply. " I've taken classes with them, I've helped these kids with their homework, I've given them advice! And all of a sudden, it's like I'm not even a person to them!"
"It'll pass," Ron shrugged.
Hermione let out a deep breath and a smile slipped onto her face as she glanced at Ron. "True. I'll just have to wait it out."
"What did McGonagall say at the speech this morning anyways?" George interrupted.
"It was kind of like a summary of the year before the Battle and a shortened version of her speech this afternoon about the importance of unity and cooperation and all that. But I'm guessing it was the summary that reminded them of your heroism or whatever," Ginny replied.
"Aww, you called me heroic," Harry smirked, nudging into Ginny with his shoulder as they walked.
"Or whatever," Ginny retorted with a roll of her eyes.
Hermione smiled at the two and wrapped her arm around Ron's elbow just as the griffin guarding the Headmistress's office came into view. Hermione gave the password and they stepped onto the revolving staircase, letting it carry them up to the large door that was already propped open as if it was waiting for them.
"Thank you all for agreeing to come early," McGonagall said five minutes later to the small group arranged around her. "I wanted to give you all a head's up of what to expect later today."
Besides Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and George, other significant members from the battle and the fight had been invited including Neville, Luna, Kingsley, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professor Flitwick, Slughorn, Sprout, and Hagrid.
McGonagall looked around and held some of their gazes for a moment before reclasping her hands in front of her and continuing. "We will first be having a ceremony out by the memorial with a few speeches from both the Minister and myself as well as a historian, someone representing an activist group, and a few quick speakers from every-day witches and wizards. After that, we will pay our respects to those who died in the battle and move to the courtyards for food and drinks. There will also be a few reporters there who might be asking a few of us questions and taking pictures."
" 'Might be?' " Ginny scoffed incredulously under her breath so that only Harry could hear, who suddenly had to fight a grin from breaking out.
"But, I have talked to all of the reporters and they know that they will be kicked out if they do not act appropriately. Everyone here has reserved seats in the front few rows for the service," McGonagall apprised them. "As I understand it, there are a few aurors out there as well as a precaution, but we aren't expecting any trouble." She glanced at Harry and Ron who nodded imperceptibly to confirm. "Any questions for me?"
After a moment of silence, McGonagall nodded briskly and said, "Good. Then you are all free to go and I will see you at the service."
She nodded to them with a faint smile and the younger guests all turned towards the door while the older witches and wizards stayed behind, eager to catch up with McGonagall and each other.
Neville fell into step beside Hermione and peered across her to Ron and Harry. "Long time no see, you two," he said with a cheeky grin. "And hello to all of you," he added with a smile.
"Hey Neville," they chorused back
"And to think, it was just a year ago that you three came to Aberforth's after a whole year of being missing," he replied somewhat wistfully.
"Thank Merlin for those coins of yours, Hermione," George said. "Without them, we would never have known when to show up."
Hermione smiled at the compliment. "I'm just glad you all kept them."
"I still have mine," said Luna.
"Same," Ginny, Neville, and George chirped.
"I have no idea where mine is," Harry admitted, trying to think back to when he was cleaning his room at the Dursleys for a glint of gold.
"We'll forgive you, mate," Neville said cheerfully, slapping him on the shoulder. "You were a bit busy."
"Oh! It was also a year ago that I stunned Alecto Carrow!" Luna interrupted joyfully, her large eyes sparkling.
"I still wish I was there to see that," Ginny commented with a scowl.
Ron felt Hermione's hand wrap around the crook of his elbow and he sent a quick, tight-lipped smile at her which she tentatively returned. The rest of the conversation fell away as they entered the lower floors of the castle and a different kind of reminiscing took them over. They passed a corridor that Ron vividly remembered being blown down as they had run by it a year ago. Another statue once lay in rubble and Ron pressed his lips together as they passed under a banister where some Hogwarts students were once blasted off its edge to the chaotic depths below. The now quiet corridors were once filled with chaos and bloodshed. Death Eaters storming the halls, the Avada Kedavra curse spilling out their masks, and a dangerous ideology filling their head with lies and false promises of power.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione let the others reminisce together as they walked down the castle's floors feeling no need to add to the idle conversation. They made their way into the sunlight through a side door, successfully skirting around those finishing the ceremony's set-up and avoiding any deterrents. Without a word passing between the small group, they all seemed to know that they were heading towards the lake, even if they were taking the longer route to reach it. As they ambled languidly across the grassy hills with the few gray clouds scudding along a pale blue sky, they passed the place where dementors had once swarmed the three of them on their way to the path under the Whomping Willow to find Voldemort a year ago. Harry's entire consciousness seemed to be taken up by fragmented memories, slipping in and out, and only snippets of his friends' conversations made it past his muddied thoughts.
Ginny teasing George for an accidental mistaken turn of phrase, Neville asking for the inside-scoop on new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products that will be released soon, Hermione quietly pointing things out to Ron as they walked. All of this, interrupted by Luna's squeal and outstretched finger.
"Look!" she said, pointing to something at the forest's edge. "Did you see that?" she asked excitedly, bouncing up and down on her toes.
"What?" Neville asked, his head cocked curiously and peering in the general direction she had pointed.
"It looked like a dabberblimp!" She raced towards the thick trunk of a tree and immediately bent down, her pale hair falling in front of her shoulders.
With a few amused glances and shrugs, the rest of the group followed. Neville and Ginny crouched down beside her while Ron, Hermione, and George hung back slightly and watched them study the ground with patient amusement. Harry stood somewhere in between, peering over Ginny's shoulder to see what Luna was looking at.
"See this?" she said, tracing the outline of a faint mark in the dirt. "It could be a footprint. Although, I wonder what it's doing so far from the lake. Perhaps it's lost…"
"Do they live in the water?" Neville asked, frowning at the scratch in the ground.
"Not strictly, no. They're amphibians, of sorts. They eat in the water, but make their homes on the banks of lakes and rivers and things," she explained, her eyes bugging with excitement.
"Huh," Ginny said with a small smile. To her, the scratch in the mud looked more like a twig that had simply rolled over in the breeze, but she always enjoyed getting lost in Luna's world for a bit. It was always much more fun than the reality she saw herself.
Luna began to scavenge around the site, searching for other clues and telling them to be on the look-out for a small, fat, round, pale blue creature with two spindly legs and a fish-like tail. They all agreed to look for it with blithe grins, but only Neville walked crouched over the forest floor with Luna, his eyes intent on the ground.
So, it was to everyone's surprise when Neville cried out in triumph. "Look at this!"
Luna hurried over excitedly and the rest followed rather lazily.
Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as he came to stand beside Neville a few trees inside the forest's edge and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"What is it?" Harry asked, somewhat impatiently.
"Did you see it? The dabberblimp?" Luna added.
"No, no. Not that," Neville answered and Luna's face fell to disappointment. "Sorry, I just saw this rare plant but I shouldn't have called you over." His face began to darken into a maroon to match his socks. "You guys won't think it's that interesting."
"Nonsense," Hermione said with a smile, stepping forward and looking at the fairly average plant sprouting out of the path of pebble-covered ground in front of them. "What is it?"
Neville beamed at her and squatted down to point out the distinct leaves, beginning to explain the exciting qualities that the plant, which Harry was convinced was nothing more than a houseplant, contained. He heard George and Ron sniggering softly from behind him and the following moan of pain when Ginny shoved them both as comeuppance. But Harry's eyes seemed to be locked to the ground.
He walked forward, as if in a daze, and scooped up a handful of the pebbles, letting all but one fall through his fingertips. He fingered the remaining stone in his hand, feeling the smooth black surface and he searched its edges for the cracked line, marking it as the Resurrection Stone. But of course, he found none. It couldn't be here. Not so close to the forest's edge. He was much further in when he dropped it.
And yet, the pebble felt so familiar. He couldn't help but close his eyes and turn it over in his hands three times, not noticing the worried expression overtaking Ron's face as he nudged his siblings and they slowly walked towards him, leaving behind the other three studying Neville's plant.
When Harry opened his eyes, his parents weren't there. Neither was Sirius or Remus. He was alone and this didn't surprise him in the slightest. But the woods were much darker, as if it was suddenly midnight. The trees surrounding him were coarser and their roots were thicker, protruding out of the ground to knee-level. The ground under his shoes had no more traces of cheerful grass, only dead leaves and broken twigs.
He blinked and standing before him was Voldemort. Harry took a sharp intake of breath and a hasty half-step backward.
A fire was burning between him and Riddle, casting his pale, sneering face in an eerie and uncertain light. As ever, he wore his dark, Stygian robes and was surrounded by his half-circle of faithful Death Eaters, all staring at him.
Voldemort's lipless mouth curled into a cruel smile and his snake-like red eyes bore into his. He tilted his head, studying Harry with child-like curiosity, and said softly, "Harry Potter… The Boy who Lived."
He raised his wand slowly, his head still cocked, and a moment passed as fear filled his every limb; his very bones were trembling. He wanted to close his eyes, to feel the calm of darkness, yet his eyes were glued to Voldemort's and he felt frozen in place. Whether that was more from terror or exhaustion, he couldn't tell.
He carefully aimed his wand at Harry's chest, his mouth moved, and a sinisterly familiar bright flash of green blanketed the world.
Harry was falling. A scream pierced the wind: the scream of his dying mother mingled with the sadness and fury of those in battle. Yet he was still falling. His muscles ached with fear and tension, his scars burned as if they were on fire, and somehow his limbs seemed frozen- paralyzed and unable to come to his own aid.
"Harry-" a soft voice said and smooth hair tickled his cheek.
He felt a cold hand probe under his shirt, feeling for his beating heart and Narcissa's rings scratched his skin. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, her voice barely distinguishable from her breath.
"He hasn't been out for this long in a while. George, do you have any of that Nightmare Nougat?"
"No, sorry. Left it back at home."
Narcissa's fast breathing came in pants in his ears. Her cold hands stopped stretching across his skin, but still her hair scraped against his shoulder and she asked her begging question again, waiting for his answer.
Harry breathed back, "Yes."
He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn as she sat up.
"He is dead!" she called. The clearing broke out in jubilant cheers and sparks flew up above the trees in celebration.
Voldemort's cold voice screamed "Crucio!" into the night and his body was thrown into the air. Cold air rushed by him, yet no additional pain scorched through his limbs. His limp body slammed against the ground. He groaned and his eyes snapped open.
He saw six worried faces floating over him. Ginny's long hair was tickling his cheek and she tucked it behind her ear as she crouched beside him.
"Harry?" she asked again tentatively.
Harry tried to look at her, but her face was blurred and swimming. Yet, he could make out her eyes wide with fear. He squinted through the blurry blobs of color and tried to take stock of reality. He was lying on the forest floor with the trees' boughs floating far above him and the sunlight streaking down in cheerful rays. Grass mingled with the twigs and leaves beneath him, and birds chirped gaily rather than the haunted silence that came with the deeper forest. A smooth stone lay in his opened hand, on the verge of slipping between his limp fingers.
"How long was I out?" he croaked, just to say something to break the uncomfortable silence rather than genuine curiosity.
"A while," Ron replied nervously. "You haven't been out like that in ages… months, really."
Harry squirmed awkwardly and managed to get his elbows underneath him, dropping the pebble in the process. He forced his eyes to stay open as the world continued to spin.
"Here," another voice said. From the other side, George grabbed onto his arm and hefted him into a seating position.
He swayed on the spot and felt Ginny's firm hand hold his shoulder, keeping him steady. He blinked rapidly and his friends waited silently as the spinning trees slowly grew still and the shrill screams died into a dull background noise. Every muscle still ached and his scars burned with a reinvigorated passion.
"What was it, Harry?" Hermione asked. She was sitting cross-legged across from him, her face the picture of motherly concern.
"Er…," came his response and he couldn't help but glance at Neville and Luna who were watching him carefully with curiosity and worry.
"What did you see?" Ginny asked, her eyes never leaving his.
Harry sighed and managed to run a hand through his hair without tipping over. "I just died again."
Neville jumped backwards at his answer and nonchalant tone, knocking into Luna whose large eyes studied him like he was a new magical creature that she had just discovered. Ginny sat close to his left side, her two hands covering one of his own and holding it in her lap. George tucked his legs under him and moved from a crouch to a kneel, staying slightly behind him in case he began to sway again.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered kindly. "I'm so sorry."
"It hasn't happened in a while," Harry replied casually, trying to steer the conversation away from revolting and nauseating pity. Especially while a large part of himself still felt that throwing-up was a likely and beneficial option.
"What caused it?" Ginny asked.
"Er…," Harry met Ron's knowing gaze before looking down at his muddied shoes sprawled out in front of him.
"It was the stone, right?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded. Hermione's confusion cleared, but his answer only added to Neville and Luna's bewilderment.
"I knew it wasn't the actual thing, but it reminded me of it," Harry prevaricated. He took a deep breath and clenched his fingers into the leaf-strewn dirt. "I think… some part of me wanted it to be the real thing so… so I could see them again… But they didn't come. It was just Voldemort." He didn't realize when he had started to cry, but salty tears began to drip lazily from the corners of his eye and he hastily swiped at them with the back of his sleeve.
"What-," Neville started to ask, but George slapped him in the arm and he promptly shut up.
Luna whispered in his ear and stood, grabbing onto Neville's hand and pulling him up with her. "We're going to go see if they need help setting up. We'll see you all later," she said in her dreamy voice and walked off with Neville in tow, the latter casting many backward glances.
"They didn't come back," Harry whispered again, not sure where to look but no longer caring if they saw his tears or not.
Ginny wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. He squeezed his eyes shut and couldn't help how his tears fell onto her shoulder or how his hand that was wrapped around her back gripped her shirt tighter, desperately trying to ensure that this was real.
"Harry… the stone… I know it's almost impossible to find again, but it's really dangerous," Hermione warned as they pulled apart. "Just… please don't go looking for it."
"I know, Hermione," he snapped. "I'm not stupid."
Hermione froze in place and for a moment, the only sound was made by the soughing wind and the twittering birds.
"I don't blame you," George whispered and he slumped to the ground. "I would die for a chance to see Fred again."
"That's what I'm worried about," Hermione said with a grim smile.
"I know they can't come back, Hermione," Harry said acerbically, repressing an eye roll. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting them to."
She withdrew slightly at his sharp tone, but said nothing more.
"I'm sorry, mate," Ron said instead with a sympathetic grimace. "I know you miss them… But they'd be really proud of you. I'm sure."
"You're sure?" Harry parroted sarcastically, anger rising to his face and filling his aching heart. " 'Cause you knew them so well? I don't even know my own parents, but you do? I don't get to know any of them 'cause Voldemort took them all away from me, but oh well. So long as you're sure!"
Ron looked like he had been slapped. He opened his mouth mutely a few times, but closed it lamely without a word. Ginny pulled on Harry's shoulder so that he would have to face her.
"Harry! Stop it! You know he didn't mean it like that," she said sternly.
His ragged breathing slowed slightly and his anger-lined face softened.
Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Of course I know you didn't mean it like that! Okay?" Harry said angrily, tossing his hands into the air and his voice growing louder. "But everyone keeps telling me that they'd be proud of me, but why does that matter if they're not here to tell me themselves? Why do people think that them being proud can somehow make up for their murder?"
George scooted over so that he was sitting in front of Harry rather than just barely inside his peripheral vision. "I have no idea," he said conversationally. "But a wise man once told me that you just have to just keep living and it will get easier. Just know that something will happen to bring back all the pain as if it happened just yesterday."
Harry sighed and felt the corners of his lips twitch on their own volition. "He sounds really wise."
George shrugged. "He can be kind of a twat at times, but yeah. He's alright," he replied with a smile.
Harry groaned and looked up at the trees, refusing to meet anyone's gaze, let alone Ron or Hermione's. Outside of Harry's line of sight, Hermione and Ron had a silent conversation with a few pointed looks and they soon rose to their feet, hand in hand, and walked out of the forest, headed for the ceremony. Guilt nagged at Harry as they left, but he didn't have the energy to get up and chase after them.
"Does your scar hurt?" Ginny asked kindly.
"Burns like the Flagrante Curse," he answered honestly.
"The one on your chest or forehead?"
"Yes."
Ginny pursed her lips in a grimace and didn't say anything, knowing that nothing but time could dull the pain.
After a few moments of silence, George gazed deep into the forest and his face was overcome with a far-away look of longing. "You know, it's probably best you don't know where exactly it fell because if you did, I would've chased after it a thousand times by now."
Harry chortled mirthlessly. "Same."
Ginny scooted closer to him and lay her head on his shoulder.
"I miss them so much," Harry whispered, tears still falling freely. "And I barely even knew any of them."
"I know," Ginny whispered back and she wrapped an arm protectively around his shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she could ease his pain, but she knew that there was no way to.
They talked occasionally and Harry slowly gave more details about what he had seen, punctuated by long stretches of silence and solitary grief. Eventually, the castle grounds behind them grew louder as more guests began to arrive, but Harry refused to turn around. He refused to break the tranquility of the forest and didn't want to move any more than necessary in case it set off another bout of pain.
"We should probably head over soon," George said, his voice bitter and with only a vague notion of following through with his suggestion.
"Probably," Ginny agreed, but she didn't move either.
They continued to sit for another few minutes until Harry sighed and said, "All right." He rocked forward, using his momentum to get to his feet with only a slight moan of pain escaping his lips. He dusted off his hands, getting as much dirt as he could from his skin and waited until the two Weasleys rose to their feet and dusted off their clothes. Together, they walked towards the lake and the memorial, taking as much time as they dared before they were considered late.
Harry spotted Ron and Hermione in a conversation with Neville, Luna, Dean, and Seamus at one edge of the crowd and the three Gryffindors simultaneously headed their way.
Ron spotted them first and nudged Hermione. He turned to Harry and gave a tight-lipped smile, unsure of what to expect. Harry moved his head in one direction, away from the crowd, and thankfully, he understood the message. Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and after giving a quick excuse, they split and met Harry away from others while Ginny and George continued on to take their place with their friends.
"Hey," Ron said casually.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Harry immediately said. "I shouldn't've snapped at you. You were only trying to help."
Hermione smiled warmly. "It's okay. It can't be easy… seeing all that. You're bound to get wound up."
Harry shook his head. "I still shouldn't take it out on you."
"That's alright, mate," Ron said, slapping his shoulder with an easy grin. "We're just glad you're okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied with an exhausted sigh. "Or… I will be fine."
Hermione smiled at his amended statement and couldn't help but think of how far he's come. The three stretched into a rough line, studying the growing crowd in companionable silence. The large iridescent cube surrounded by rubble stood like a beacon closest to the lake and rows of chairs stood like ready soldiers on the grass.
"I'm growing to hate white chairs," Harry said moodily, eyeing the rows covered in flowing cream fabric. "First Dumbledore's funeral, then the first memorial, and now this."
"I'm glad they're holding a memorial," said Hermione.
"Me too," Harry replied quickly. "It's just… not bringing back the happiest memories."
"No, it really isn't," Hermione conceded. "But, it looks like McGonagall's warnings are keeping the reporters at bay so far."
As one, Ron and Harry followed her gaze to the back of the rows of chairs where a few reporters were grouped together with their cameramen, all eyeing the new guests and clearly appraising who would be fair game. One wizard was watching the three of them carefully, but apparently their frowns and closed off postures did a good job of repelling him from approaching.
"Looks like it," Ron agreed. "But I give them until the end of the speeches."
"Let's hope for the whole day," said Harry.
Ron shook his head. "Nah, they can't go a whole day being around you without asking for a picture at least."
"How about you? You're famous too, you know," Harry said, turning his attention back to his two friends. "War hero, horcrux destroyer, and Head Auror."
Ron scoffed. "Co-head auror," he amended.
Harry shrugged. "Like they care."
"Well I'm with Harry," Hermione interrupted. "Hopefully they leave us be for a while."
They fell silent again and the cool breeze gently blew Ron and Harry's cloaks around their calves and the quiet whistling of the wind through the trees could be heard from their position over the dull chatter. The water lapped lightly at the lake's edge. More guests slowly began to arrive, walking up the Hogsmeade path and interspersing with the assembled witches and wizards.
"I can't believe it was all a year ago," Hermione whispered, drawing their attention back from their own subconsciouses.
"It feels so long ago," Ron said.
"Really? It feels like just yesterday to me," Harry replied.
"Huh," Ron commented as casually as if comparing commute times.
"Every time I walk into the Great Hall I can't help but see Voldemort," he admitted. "And it all still seems so fresh."
Hermione nodded understandingly. "Everytime I walk through the courtyard by the Entrance Hall, I just see Voldemort and… and… your dead body." Her voice petered off and ended barely above a whisper. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively and pulled her close.
"The courtyard doesn't really affect me 'cause my eyes were closed," Harry said matter-of-factly with a shrug of his shoulders and a slight smile.
Ron snorted and a small smile lit Hermione's features.
"I've missed it being just the three of us," Ron said wistfully, squinting in the sunlight. "I thought we'd get tired of each other after a year of only having each other for company, but here we are."
"Me too," Hermione smiled.
"Maybe next time Ron comes to visit you Hermione, I can come too. Just for half the day or something," Harry suggested.
Hermione shook her head. "Not for another few weeks, Harry. NEWTS are right around the corner and I really need to study so I just don't have t-"
"Okay, okay," Harry said, cutting her off. "After NEWTs then."
"Yes. Definitely after NEWTS," she agreed.
McGonagall's voice then trailed over to them, travelling on the breeze, calling them to their seats. They joined the mass heading towards the rows of chairs and found the three in the front row with their names on it. Ignoring the comments whispered behind hands and pointed fingers that were still mostly reserved for Harry, they settled in to listen to the speeches.
The trio rose to their feet with the rest of the crowd, stretching out their backs and stiff muscles and guests started to walk towards the castle courtyard where the remainder of the afternoon would be spent. Hermione's eyes were red and puffy while Harry and Ron sniffed frequently and felt like a stone was wedged into their throats. All of them were still carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone else, lest it be mistaken for an invitation to come interview them, ask questions, or take pictures.
"That was a really good ceremony," Hermione said quietly, still facing the shimmering cube with the names of those who had died etched into the stone.
"Yeah," Ron agreed.
Harry said nothing; his cheeks were still flushed and he couldn't shake the feeling of hundreds of eyes burning into his back whenever any speaker mentioned him.
"At first I wasn't sure why they were having so many citizen speakers, but it was actually quite moving," Hermione added.
Ron nodded. "Especially that one witch at the end. The one who wanted to move out of the country but couldn't because her partner was being held in Azkaban for no good reason."
Harry still said nothing but started to walk slowly towards the ring of rubble surrounding the cube and came to a stop just before the tips of his shoes scratched the stone. With a quick glance, Ron and Hermione followed and stood next to him. They stared at the rock with all of its names scattered on its surface: Fred and Remus and Tonks and Cedric and Dennis and Lavender and so much more.
"A whole year," Harry finally muttered. "A whole year without Voldemort."
Hermione placed a hand on his arm and gave a wan smile. "Your first relatively normal year."
Harry scoffed and a smirk quickly touched his face. "That goes for both of you too, you know."
"True. Though we had normal lives before you and Hogwarts came around," Ron said, his eyes never straying from his brother's name.
"You finally got a normal year of school, Hermione," said Harry.
She smiled and replied, "It's much less exciting this way."
Harry looked up from the memorial and found her brown eyes staring into his. He gave a small smile and sighed, looking across the lake. "I'm guessing we should probably go to the courtyard at some point."
Ron tore his eyes away from George's handwriting and looked over the heads of his two friends to see the last few stragglers disappearing around the stone wall that marked the beginning of the courtyard. "Probably at some point," he agreed.
Hermione sniffed slightly and turned in place, looping one arm through each of theirs and together, they began to walk slowly towards the castle.
The courtyard was filled with tables draped in white tablecloths for people to stand around and every hand in sight seemed to be holding a glass.
"Hello Samuels," Ron said, nodding to the witch at the entrance who was the head of the prevention auror subdivision.
"Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter," she replied with two curt nods in their direction. "And a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger."
Hermione gave her a warm smile as they passed her post and entered the throng of guests. But her smile quickly faded and she pursed her lips as a Hogwarts house elf scurried up to them with a silver platter held above its shoulder, laden with glasses of champagne, gillywater, and wine.
"Something to drink?" the elf squeaked.
Hermione smiled down at the overly large eyes and smiled kindly. "No, thank you."
The elf turned to Harry and Ron but both shook their heads, making Hermione's smile stay a bit longer on her face. Her smile then brightened even more and she clasped her hands together in front of her. "Oh! There's Hawksworth!" she squealed.
Ron and Harry turned to follow her gaze and saw the Head of Magical Law Enforcement in a deep conversation with another wizard.
"I'm going to go say hi," Hermione informed them breathlessly, already hurrying towards him without a backwards glance.
"Trust Hermione to turn this into a networking event," Ron said with amusement twinkling in his eye.
"Come on. Let's get out of the way," said Harry. Strictly speaking, they weren't in anyone's way, but Ron knew that he really meant to get out of the limelight that came from standing in the middle of the courtyard entrance. He followed Harry's winding path through a few scattered tables until they found one that was recently vacated near the wall to one side. Ron leaned forward so his elbows rested against the tablecloth and eyed Hermione's eager face that was deep in a conversation with the two wizards, both of which were much taller than her and seemed quite interested in what she had to say.
"Don't know what she's so worried about," Ron commented.
"What?" Harry asked bewildered, his own eyes snapping away from something else entirely, lost in thought.
"I don't know what 'Mione's so worried about. She can get any job she wants."
"They'd be a fool not to hire her on the spot," Harry agreed.
Both wizards watched Hermione's hands flying as she punctuated some point or another with fond smiles. Ron's was one of pride and Harry's had some relief mixed in that she found someone who was equally passionate as her to discuss such topics with.
"Damn," whispered Ron, his head swinging back to face Harry. "I think that reporter is coming over to talk to us."
Sure enough, the wizard that had his eyes on them since before the speeches was making his way over with a friendly and easy-mannered smile, his loyal cameraman trailing after him like he was on a leash.
"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley!" he beamed as he approached, raising his glass of champagne towards them. "Hello, hello!"
"Hello," Ron responded out of politeness. Harry nodded briefly and gave a tight-lipped smile.
The man seemed to take this as a warm welcome and he set his glass on the table across from them before resting one elbow on the tablecloth. "Adam Stephenson, pleasure to meet you."
Harry raised an eyebrow and said, "I assume you're a reporter." He was already irritated by the man acting like they had been childhood friends rather than this being their first time meeting.
He nodded. "Indeed, I am. Reporter for The Wizarding World News."
This time, Harry's eyebrow shot up pleasantly. Somehow, a reporter that wasn't from the Daily Prophet seemed much less intruding.
"To get straight to the point, I would absolutely love to ask the two of you some questions, hear your thoughts, get up to speed, maybe even snap a picture or two," he went on casually, his one hand drawing circles leisurely in the air as he talked. "But of course, I know you may not be up for it, in which case, I'll leave you be and maybe check back in on you later to see if you've changed your mind." Stephenson gave them another wide smile and Ron squinted at his shockingly bright white teeth.
"Er…," Ron said, eyeing his friend carefully. Harry gave an imperceptible shrug and Ron replied for them both. "A few questions couldn't hurt."
"Brilliant! Let me just get my pad out. I know I have it here somewhere…" He began to pat his pockets frantically, as if mortified to be caught off guard without it. "Ah-ha! Here it is!" He held up his pad and pen victoriously before slamming it onto the table.
"You use a pen?" Harry blurted out.
He nodded emphatically. "I never could get used to ink and quills myself, especially after all those years at a muggle primary school."
"You're a muggle-born then?" Harry asked curiously.
"Indeed, I am," he responded with a hint of pride. "And thanks to you two, I can live and work here safely again. But enough about me," he said, suddenly bashful. "Let's talk about you."
He leaned forward with friendly brown eyes and waited for something to spurt out of their mouths.
"Er… what do you want to know?" Harry asked, nonplussed by this reporter's lack of pushy questions.
"Anything you'd like to tell me! What do you want to talk about?"
Harry glanced at Ron and Ron grinned. "You're not like most reporters, are you?" Ron asked.
He shrugged diffidently. "I try not to be so… aggressive. The usual tactics have always made me extremely uncomfortable."
Ron laughed. "Us too. But you must have some questions or topics in mind."
He glanced down coyly. "Well…"
"Ask away, Stephenson. Ask away," Ron said.
"If you insist. What did you think of the ceremony today?"
"I thought it was really well done. That one witch whose partner was being held in Azkaban for all those months gave a great speech- really moving," Ron said.
Stephenson nodded, jotting notes down with his pen. "Agreed, agreed. And you, Mr. Potter?"
"Yeah, it was nice," he agreed.
Ron gave him an exasperated glance and shoved him with his elbow. Harry sent a warning with his eyes that Ron carefully ignored and said, "Sorry about him, Stephenson. He's not usually this talkative."
"Okay, okay," Harry grumbled. "I thought it was nice, but I wish they would find different colored chairs. I was telling them earlier that I can never look at a white chair the same way again."
Stephenson chuckled while his pen was scrambling across his notepad. "I assume that's because they used the same chairs for last year's memorial?"
"And for Dumbledore's funeral," Harry agreed.
"Ah, I forgot about that." Once his writing stopped, he looked up and asked, "So other than a different color scheme, no complaints?"
"No complaints here," said Ron. "Although, Hermione would say that they shouldn't be making house elves work so hard to cater this event when they could have hired a company."
"Ah, to help boost the economy? Give some more people jobs?"
"I suppose, but she's very passionate in the fight for justice for magical creatures," Ron explained. "House elves especially, ever since our fourth year."
"Really… How marvelous. And you're dating Miss Granger, are you not?"
"I am, yes," Ron said with a smile.
"And Mr. Potter, you're dating Miss Ginerva Weasley?"
"Ginny, yeah," Harry grinned.
"She led the student rebellion here at Hogwarts last year, correct?"
"Yes, along with Neville and Luna," Harry answered.
He nodded and continued to question the two wizards on the more carefree topics, carefully skirting around any subject that would be sure to clamp their mouths shut. Eventually, even Harry grew more comfortable with the casual and easy-going reporter who seemed to love any answer they were willing to give and he even found himself laughing at one or two of the man's jokes.
"Well, I'm afraid I've taken up too much of your time," Stephenson said apologetically about twenty minutes later, tucking his notepad back into one of his many pockets. "Thank you very much for the conversation and it has been a real honor to talk to you."
"Any time, Stephenson. Any time," Ron replied easily and he was somewhat surprised to find that he meant it.
"No problem," Harry replied with a similar smile.
As the reporter walked away from their table, already deep in discussion with his cameraman, Hermione hurried up to take his place.
"Guess what?" she said, practically jumping up and down. "Hawksworth introduced me to the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! And he seemed really eager and willing to talk!"
"Of course he was!" Ron said instantly. "He'd be a fool not to be!"
Hermione beamed at him.
"That's great, Hermione!" Harry added.
"He even gave me his card so we can talk after I graduate," she added.
"Good for you, 'Mione," Ron said.
"How about you? Was that a reporter I saw? I hope he wasn't bugging you."
"No, no. He was fine actually. The nicest reporter by far," Ron replied.
She turned to Harry with a doubtful expression and the latter answered, "He was actually quite nice."
"Well, that's a relief. But just a warning, I think talking with him made you seem much more approachable."
Harry looked around curiously and saw that a few witches and wizards were now casting tentative glances in their direction and two witches were headed their way. The trio watched them approach and Hermione gave the two witches a warm smile and internally hoped that her two tactless friends were doing the same.
"I don't mean to intrude," the first witch said cautiously. "We just wanted to say thank you."
"Hey! You're the one who gave the speech earlier today!" Ron blurted out, a finger shooting out to point at her.
The witch blushed and bowed her head. "Yes. This is my partner, the one who I was talking about that got thrown in Azkaban without a trial."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Harry commented, eyeing the black haired witch inquisitively.
"Oh, don't be!" she said hastily. "It's because of you three that I was released! I couldn't thank you enough for that."
Hermione blushed and her poise diminished slightly under their unwavering adulation. Choices for a response flew through her head- it was nothing, our pleasure, of course- but nothing seemed appropriate.
"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Harry said, saving Hermione from her internal dilemma.
"Likewise, Mr. Potter," she giggled. Her partner then inclined her head towards them once more and wiggled her fingers in a wave before they said their polite good-byes and dispersed into the crowd. For the rest of the event, their table was approached with more witches and wizards, children and adults, muggle-borns and pure-bloods, all of whom were eager to share their brief stories and gratitude with the three heroes.
When the last of the guests headed back for the Hogsmeade path and McGonagall had begun directing her helpers to start cleaning up, Ginny found them with a smirk. "You think you managed to meet everyone or do you still have a few hundred to go?"
"It was actually quite nice," Hermione responded haughtily. "I enjoyed getting to meet all those people and hearing about their lives."
"Really?" Ginny asked incredulously. "That sounds excruciating to me."
"I mean… it got old after a while but it was nice at first," Ron shrugged.
Ginny didn't sound convinced. "Hmm. Well, George went back to the Burrow for dinner with Mum and Dad already. Do you two want to stay here for dinner?"
"Sure," Harry replied.
"Less dishes for me," Ron replied cheerfully.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You don't even do the dishes, Ron."
"Yes, I do! Well… sometimes. But I do clean the table!"
"True," Harry conceded with a laugh.
The four Gryffindors walked past the small cluster of those being given orders by McGonagall who smiled at them as they passed and they made their way to the Great Hall that was already half full. As they entered through the doors, Harry made his habitual glance to the center where he had circled Voldemort just a year ago, still unsure whether he would live another day.
Of course, Hermione noticed this quick glance and said quietly, "This is where it all ended."
"And it's kind of where it started with Professor McGonagall gathering the troops here," Harry mused.
"And it's where you start and end every day with breakfast and dinner," Ron said happily.
Ginny scoffed. "Real clever."
"I thought so," Ron agreed.
"Any other grand enlightenments to share, Ronald?" asked Ginny.
"Epiphanies don't come on command, Ginerva," he taunted.
"Well-"
"There goes my idea for a double date," Hermione commented with a pointed eyebrow raised, cutting Ginny off mid-retort.
Harry snorted and reached across the table for the jug of water and smiled as his closest friends chatted idly over their food, tuning out the rest of the world.
Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews or suggestions, they are always appreciated. And thank you to all of the guests who left reviews on my last few chapters!
NEWTs are coming next week! And so is our favorite baby metamorphmagus.