87. There for one moment

The Wizarding World was in the process of a slow recovery from the war. According to Hermione's various explanations, the ministry was having an overhaul of administration. Harry crossed his fingers in the hopes that the Death Eaters didn't slip through the cracks.

But those were concerns for another day. Now it was a time of mourning. The mass funeral was a suitably solemn affair. Harry had come along with the Weasleys to pay his respects. There wasn't a dry eyed Weasley in sight.

He placed a supportive hand on Ron's shoulder as they stood in front of Fred's grave. Ron was having a hard time accepting his brother's passing. It had came as too much of a surprise to him. No final words were shared and he hadn't even been around to help. That was a pain point that Ron couldn't let go.

No one was taking the news harder than George. It was almost unnatural how morose the once outgoing Weasley had become.

Now that he was gone, Harry felt rather apologetic about never getting to know the twins. He never found their practical jokes particularly funny especially those that targeted Ron. The jokes felt too similar to Dudley's treatment of him. Now he wondered if that had been unfair of him.

"Did it hurt?" Ron's voice was thick and hoarse.

Harry pulled Ron into a half hug, "No, it didn't. As a matter of fact, it felt like meeting a long time friend after so long. There was only a soft lull."

"That's good. If it had to happen, at least he didn't suffer. I think I hear Mum calling," he walked shakily towards Mrs. Weasley who proceeded to pull him into a tight hug and continued to weep.

Harry released a sigh. Life was at times unkind. They were survivors now and had to deal with the losses as it came to them. Wishing to give them some privacy, Harry went away to find a seat. When he reached the stone bench, he released a sigh of relief for his aching feet.

Considering where they were, it came as little surprise when Death took a seat beside him. None of the grievers noticed her in any meaningful way. Knowing that the woman he loved was Death made things different yet the same for all the things that mattered. Who could hope to know everything of the boundaries of life and death? At the very least, Harry could not proclaim such.

"It's good to see you. I've been out of it for the past few days. It finally feels like my life can go on. But I can't help but wonder if it had to cost so much?" Harry admitted, his eyes lingering on the Weasleys. They had been so kind to him and it hurt to see them like this.

Death caressed the side of his face to return his eyes to her. The smile forming on her lips were compassionate but firm, "Nothing truly comes for free. Tom wasn't just your enemy but theirs as well. It may seem like too much to bare now, but the Weasleys are survivors. I doubt Molly and Arthur would let their family fall apart. Believe in their strength."

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed, "You're right."

Death broke the silence that grew between them with a playful hum, "Now what am I going to do with you? You've collected all of the Deathly Hollows after all this time. You are now the Master of Death. What would you have of me, my master?"Her painted lips curved into a smile that was all impish and promised things that had his blood running. She leaned near his ear and hummed in question, her lips planting a kiss just behind the appendage.

"I don't want to be your master," he said even as his heart sputtered restlessly against her machinations. If there was a 'master' in this situation, it surely wasn't him.

"Oh?" her voice was filled with a delicious disappointment, "How unfortunate. I did just get my hands on a rather fetching maid uniform. I suppose it will need to be saved for another occasion. It's a shame; I thought the stockings were pretty striking too."

The laugh that reached his ears brought shivers down his back and reminded him how passionate Death could be. She had such a strange abundance of life within her, but perhaps that wasn't so strange. His Pale Lady was a woman of many sides and wonders.

"No need for such sweet thoughts my adorable master. You're already in my good books," she teased. "Speaking of books, I have something of yours." Now in her hands was the familiar and long missed spell book.

A soft smile graced Harry's lips as he gratefully took the book. It was another token of the connection between them, a gift that held a special place in his heart and had filled his mind with the wonders of mystic world around him. Harry felt complete once again.

Amongst all the grieving, Harry's world was finding peace.