Ad Memoriam
June 30th 2031. In England you can find the small town of Bladon is a small church with a graveyard on a hill, sloping into the town and visible from Blenheim Palace of Woodstock. In this yard stood a solitary figure, with a tattered emerald cape and bright ginger hair. He stood tall and gaunt in comparison with his surroundings, and dwarfed the tiny grave that lay before him.
Harry Potter, born 31st July 1986, died 30th June 2003.
He gave his life so that we all may live.
Ron Weasley read these sobering words again and again. It had been twenty eight years since Harry had died. He hadn't died facing Voldemort, the Dark Wizard had been killed in their sixth year at Hogwarts, while Harry had died in their final.
'Race you to the train!'
'You're on Harry'
'Hey wait for us!!'
Harry, Ron and Hermione had just received their exam results and had passed out in style. They had won the Quidditch Cup for the fourth time and all had been headhunted by Cornelius Fudge to work for the Ministry of Magic. After a final feast and night under the Gryffindor colours the trio had left for the Hogwarts Express the next day.
'Impedimenta'
'Oi, no fair Hermione!!'
With them were all their friends who had graduated; Lavender, Neville, Seamus and Parvati, the others had been killed in Dumbledore, Harry and Voldemort's titanic battle. As the platform grew closer Ron and Harry were streaking ahead, both laughing in the fresh air and freedom that was theirs. Ron's eyes blinked back tears as he remembered Harry's smiling face.
'Weasley and Potter do it again, the dream team!'
'Hark at them!'
'Just cos we beat you Miss Granger.'
The memories came flooding back to Ron as they had for the past twenty eight years since he had done this. They had beaten the Express and so were left gasping for air as the other ex-seventh years relaxed around them. In the distance he had heard the horseless carriages trundling down towards the platform and then the familiar hoot of the train.
'LOOKOUT RON'
'Huh?'
He had stumble while listening and was falling towards the tracks as the train pulled up, still at cruising speed. He remembered the event as if time was moving by hours, not the seconds that had been. Hermione's face had formed a scream while Seamus and Neville had begun to run forwards. His arms swinging wildly Ron had knocked Harry who was reaching out for Ron and steadied himself.
'HARRY…………'
He remembered the look of uncertainty on Harry's face as he rocked forwards over the track, then the cry of dismay that had sounded with the blare of the train's whistle. With a crack Harry was knocked in the air like a lifeless rag doll as the scarlet train smashed into his frail body. Tears were now openly flowing down Ron's face as they had been when he ran towards the tangle of robes that was his friend on the platform's end. As he reached Harry his knees gave way and he collapsed just as he did beside Harry's grave at that moment his throat burning. His friend was breathing raggedly with blood pouring from his head, Ron looked into Harry's eyes as they slowly misted over as Seamus and Neville slid in beside. Hermione slowly walked over as Ron turned away from his friend's body, while everyone moved around Ron walked away.
'He's not breathing…'
'Neville get someone…'
'Ron…Ron?'
Before anyone could stop him Ron had whipped out his wand and pointed it in his face while muttering the Avada Kedavra curse. All he remembered was green. He woke up five weeks later in St. Mungo's with his parents and Hermione by his bed.
'Why Ron, why?'
'I killed him…'
He remained in the wizard hospital for a year and was released in time for the anniversary of Harry's death. With his parents and Hermione he had visited Harry's grave and Ron had relived Harry's death again…the following year the same happened…and again…and again…again.
'It's my fault Harry. You could have had more to your life, not just seventeen years of fighting for everyone. You died for me, not them, I lived because of you, everyone else just lives. I'm sorry, but I can't just get your forgiveness, I…I killed you…Everyone's forgotten you, but I won't, not ever, don't worry.'
Tears rolled from Ron's eyes as he spilt out his fears for the first time in years and broke down crying, since uttering those few words in St. Mungo's he'd remained mute to the world. Even his wife could never get a word out of him, but sitting by the church Hermione heard the words flowing out of Ron. Rising she slowly walked over to her husband, and embraced him while tears ran freely down both their faces. Slowly Ron rose and wiped the salty water from his face, reaching into his pocket to remove a small metal plaque. He then fixed the device to the gravestone with his wand, and ran his fingers over the grainy image of Harry on his Firebolt, then over his forehead, Harry's friendship had protected him from the deadly curse, but had given him a similar scar. Before apparating with Hermione he read the legend below the picture.
'Ad memoriam Harry Potter, patron de vie et heros oublie.'
A/N: I wrote this in an hour of free time so I know I probably screwed up his birthday date but I assumed Harry was eleven in 1997 going by when Philosopher's Stone got its Smarties Award. So if one reviewer, and only one i.e. the first could give me the proper date/tell me I got it right I'd appreciate it. Harry's resting place is actually that of Winston Churchill, who was born in Blenheim Palace and governed the UK throughout WWII.
