Chapter 4

Harry awoke abruptly the next morning, his brow caked in a layer of sweat. He could feel dried tears on his cheeks as his heart pounded heavily in his chest. Harry had managed to sleep for about six hours, granted it was a restless slumber, but six hours was still six hours. They say that you are legally insane after being awake for 48 hours in the muggle world and if that was true than Harry had been crazy for days.

He yawned deeply and turned to look out the window, the sun was peaking over the horizon and that was excuse enough for him to wake up. He silently pulled on a pair of jeans and rustled up a grey t-shirt from his trunk. Kicking on his black trainers he left Ron's room, his best friend still snoring softly.

He briskly washed his face and brushed his teeth. He didn't' even bother combing his hair as it would never stay put and he avoided his reflection in the mirror.

He shuffled down the stairs, quiet enough so nobody would hear him, but quick enough to avoid getting held up. He happily greeted the refreshing breeze, the crickets still singing softly from the previous night. It was a rare time that Harry had stumbled upon. It was a time where the difference between dawn and twilight was undetectable and as he set out for his rock wall his mind calm, he allowed the events of the previous night to surface.

After finally surrendering to the burden of guilt he had been harboring for the past week he had lost it. Broken down, hysterically cried, erratic breathing, the whole nine yards. Hermione had been the one to pry it out of him. He didn't know how long she had sat there while he cried, but he vaguely remembered climbing the stairs sometime that evening.

"Tea?" a familiar voice startled him out of his reflections and Harry jerked his head around reaching instinctively for his wand.

"Bloody hell!" Harry took a deep breath, "Hermione what are you doing here?"

She shrugged cringing slightly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! Can I join you?"

Harry responded inching over a few spaces as Hermione handed him the steaming mug which he accepted gratefully. "What are you doing up so early?" Harry pressed the mug to his lips.

"I went to check on Ron and saw you were gone. So I just… I don't know... I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Harry gave a tight lipped smile. A pit settled in his stomach at the mention of Ron. He was ever grateful he had woken up in time. The last thing he wanted was to witness Hermione crawling into bed with his best friend.

"Did you sleep it all?" she tenderly turned to face him.

Harry scratched his head and yawned, "Got a few restless hours, how about you?"

"In and out all night." She remarked tiredly. She hesitated on the next question and peeked up at a curious Harry through her eyelashes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alive," Harry chortled out bitterly avoiding her gaze.

"I meant after last night," Hermione nudged him playfully in the ribs, "any better?"

There was hope in her voice and Harry nodded a little too enthusiastically, "Loads."

"Liar," Hermione grinned at him for the first time. "Like I don't know when you're lying. You're my best friend."

Harry took a sharp breath. He had heard Hermione call him her best friend plenty of times over the years, but this time it stung and Harry couldn't pin point why. So he held his tongue and smiled awkwardly.

Hermione sighed as the sun crept its way over the horizon and the friends sat in comfortable silence.

Surprisingly Harry was the one to break the lull in conversation, "Do you know why I come out here every morning?"

"I have some ideas," Hermione said, "but specifically… no I don't know why."

"It reminds me of Sirius…" Harry reminisced sullenly. "Sometimes, not always, but sometimes I see him on the horizon. I know he's dead, but whenever I think of him I have this image of him riding Buckbeak into the sunset and for a minute I'm truly happy. It's one of the few memories that were strong enough to keep Voldemort out of my head."

Hermione listened intently her eyes radiating empathy. Ron would have flinched at the mention of Voldemort, but never Hermione. To her it was just another name.

"What was it like Harry?" she pulled at her braid nervously, "having him in your head?"

Harry sighed out a heavy breath and pondered what to say for a few moments, "It was like… like being tortured, but not in the physical sense. I couldn't escape my own mind. I wasn't able to tell the difference between reality and imagination. I didn't know how to shut him out because I couldn't tell the difference between his mind and my own."

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them a shiver sent up her spine. "What did shut him out? That day in the ministry at the end of fifth year, I saw him enter you… I saw him in your eyes and I always wondered what shut him out."

Harry continued warily, "It's complicated. It was like a slideshow of all these horrific memories from my past. He was trying to break me. I don't know what caused them to change, but it did. The snapshots became the good things in my life. I don't really remember what they were exactly, but I remember the last one. The final thought to pull me out of my trance.

"What was it?"

Harry turned to Hermione his stare penetrating her glassy eyes. "It was your laugh."

Silent tears streamed from her eyes. She moved closer to Harry and he clasped her shoulders tightly as she leaned into the crook of his neck. It was so natural for the two of them and Harry's mind clouded with a longing desire.

"Merry Christmas Hermione," Harry chuckled out glancing down at her through his lenses.

Hermione laughed a laugh very similar to the one that he had not two seconds ago been telling her about and his heart melted. It was not too long ago that they had been standing at Godric's Hollow in the same embrace. The circumstances were certainly different, but the feelings remained the same.

"Merry Christmas Harry."

The world seemed a little simpler as they watched the sunrise. Today would be far from simple with Fred's funeral in a few hours and Harry knew that it would be an emotional roller coaster for many, but for now the two of them sat at peace, the tragedies of the world far from their mind as they allowed their embrace to play a comfort.

"Ron's going to need us today," Hermione sighed and she removed her head from Harry's shoulder. "Ginny too."

Harry nodded solemnly a bitter edge in his voice as he cursed reality for pulling him back again. "We should get back," he mumbled and he silently prayed for this day to end.

Harry stared at himself in the full length mirror in Ron's bedroom. It was half past three and the funeral was in an hour. His appearance was nothing out of the ordinary. He donned a pair of grey slacks, white dress shirt, green tie and a black V-neck sweater. He fiddled mercilessly with his tie trying to tie the knot he had never quite been able to master.

In a mere sixty minutes Harry would be burying one of his closest friends and the guilt was making him want to crawl out of his skin. He turned on his heal giving up on his tie and flattened his hair as he walked out the door.

Ginny was trying hard not to shake as she attempted to clasp her necklace for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her reflection screamed back at her and she wanted more than anything to crawl into her bed and cry.

"You look beautiful," a familiar voice said and Ginny turned her gaze to the hansom boy watching her in the mirror.

"Would you mind?" Ginny held out her pearls and Harry stepped forward clasping them on the first try.

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so they were face to face and kindly smiled. "Let's go," he tried his best to sound confident and collected though his insides were churning with anxiety.

They descended the stairs arms linked and Ginny turned to Harry. "You look hansom," she whispered slyly and Harry blushed slightly. Whatever they were, whatever Harry had been feeling the last few days it didn't matter today. Ginny needed him and he would do everything he could to be there for her.

The couple rounded the corner to find Ron and Hermione in a fierce embrace and Harry pushed away the pit that had seemed to permanently occupy his stomach. They broke apart at the sight of Harry and Ginny and Ron swiped away a tear.

"Hey mate," Harry murmured letting go of Ginny's arm and took a step forward and the two boys embraced tightly as Harry patted Ron on the back and felt his friend's large form shaking with grief.

The two girls hugged as well and Hermione soothingly stroked Ginny's hair.

"Ginny? Ronald?" the distant voice of Arthur Weasley called around the corner, "we need you both."

Ron nodded giving Hermione a lingering kiss on the forehead before holding out his hand for Ginny to follow.

Harry squeezed Ginny's hand gently and silently mouthed, "I'll be right behind you."

With one last parting glance from the two of them the red heads departed following Arthur a slump in their step.

Hermione stared with a longing after the two of them and she fiddled with her silver bracelet nervously. She looked absolutely breathtaking her brown eyes minimally made up and her hair held back by a black ribbon her curls falling past her shoulders.

"You clean up well Potter," she reached out to fix his tie and his breath hitched in his throat.

"You look brilliant as always Hermione," Harry swallowed taking in the black dress that hung to her knees framing her petit figure.

She looked down some pink settling in her complexion. Hermione had never been one to take a compliment. One of her hairs had escaped from her headband and Harry had to fight the urge to pin it behind her ear. So he shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his toes.

"A bunch of people from Hogwarts should be arriving soon," Hermione glanced out the window. "We should probably go outside."

"Okay," Harry sighed as he followed closely on her heal out the front steps of the burrow.

The funeral was beautiful with white wooden chairs and beautiful sets of flowers floating in the isles. You wouldn't have guessed it was a burial at all and that is exactly what Fred would've wanted.

Harry looked and saw Mrs. Weasley chatting with a kind eyed elderly woman of whom Harry was unfamiliar with. She smiled at him and Hermione and Mrs. Weasley motioned them over.

"Harry, Hermione… this is Mrs. Andromeda Tonks," Mrs. Weasley introduced the teens to the woman and Harry's heart sang with recognition. It was Tonk's mother. "And this…" Mrs. Weasley shifted so they could see the bundle in her arms "is baby Teddy."

It was Remus. That was all Harry could think as he stared down at the newborn in Mrs. Weasley's arms. A feeling of joy, pain, and utter confusion hit Harry like a ton of bricks and he struggled to stammer out a reply.

"Mr. Potter," Andromeda tentatively put her arms on Harry's shoulder, "Would you like to hold your godson?"

Harry was at a complete loss for words as he nodded slowly pushing his glasses up on his nose. Mrs. Weasley held out the infant and Harry timidly reached out for the little boy.

"That's it now," Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly at Harry, "just make sure you support his head, that's it dear."

"He's adorable," Hermione remarked as she reached out to brush a soft hand over the baby's bald head.

"He's beautiful," Harry spoke for the first time the strength in his words startling Hermione. She hadn't heard Harry this certain in a long time and she looked up at him curiously. "He's a beautiful boy."

Teddy yawned opening his eyes slightly and stretched his small fists over his head. Harry's lips spread out over his teeth and he grinned crookedly down at Teddy, his emerald eyes shining madly.

Hermione watched Harry intently. He was eleven again the innocence that had disappeared so rapidly was suddenly back and something stirred inside of her. All she knew was that she wanted to see Harry smile like that forever. In a world filled with loss, in a week spent cursing himself, on a day deemed for sorrow, something beautiful had happened. Even if it was just a newborn's yawn, that gesture put a smile on Harry's face. A smile that some thought they would never see again. That's what magic really is. For in that moment Harry understood how his mother felt on the night she had died for him. If she had loved Harry as much as Harry loved Teddy, maybe it wasn't all as dark as it seemed. Maybe somewhere there was still the hope of better days to come.