Chapter Twenty-four:
So it Ends
The overcast skies that had hung over Hogwarts for the past few days broke on the morning of the funeral, the sun ricocheting off the lake and into the weary eyes of the two dozen people that were paying their respects to the greatest wizard of modern times. Harry could sense the worried sideways glances that Sirius, Remus, and Mrs. Weasley shot him from time to time, but still he kept his sight locked on his shoe laces, determined not to break down in front of these people, or anyone for that matter. The day before had been filled with hushed tones and muted conversations, revelations that the Ministry had no earthly idea as to what had caused the explosion, only that Voldemort had disappeared once again. Revelations that one Peter Pettigrew was counted among the deceased and that a probe into the possible innocence of Sirius Black, wanted felon, was about to be launched with the full backing of Minister Fudge himself. In spite of being faced with the possibility that his godfather would soon be declared innocent and his legal guardian, Harry had still spent the evening sitting alone in the Astronomy tower while his mind had been back at the Three Broomsticks, trying to remember if he ever thought to himself, "I want to kill this man." A series of tests with Ministry mediwizards and lawyers had concluded that Harry would have to go through some kind of special training to keep his abilities in check but would suffer no consequences for the demise of that Death Eater, as if any of that mattered to Harry. Well past midnight, he had returned to his bed to sleep, only to be faced with the painful reminder that he was expected to attend the funeral of the greatest man he had ever known, the one hope for victory against Voldemort. It was only then, slightly before dawn, that Harry remembered Albus Dumbledore…
"Harry?" Harry was painfully thrust back into the present as Sirius gently touched his shoulder. He had obviously asked him something, maybe several times, while Harry had focused on the loosened tie on his right sneaker.
"Sorry, what?" Harry asked, noticing again the concerned looks he was receiving from the people sitting beside him.
"The service is over," Remus answered, pointing to the empty chairs before them. "They're walking over to the lake to light the funeral pyre. Would you like to help?"
Harry had seen a send-off like this once before, a brief spot on some documentary about Vikings while Dudley went in search for batteries for the remote control. At the time, Harry had thought it was horrendous, torching a human being like that, like they were nothing. But now, thinking about Fawkes, Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. Still, he couldn't bring himself to do it. "I'll just wait here," he answered, giving them a small smile so they'd leave him.
After the flaming ship was launched into the lake, Harry rose from his seat and made his way over to Sirius, who was speaking to a man Harry could only assume was Aberforth Dumbledore. Upon approaching, Harry caught the tail end of the conversation between him and Minerva McGonagall. "This is all they found with him," she was saying, handing Aberforth a bundle of something. "His wand, glasses, dragon-tooth pendant, and a bag of Bernie Botts Every Flavor Beans. He always did love sweets."
"Not those though," Harry interrupted, surprising even himself.
Aberforth look kindly on the boy who he, along with the rest of the wizarding world, had thought dead until this morning. True to his word as of yet, Fudge had kept the truth about Harry's survival within Ministry walls. And Aberforth was relieved to see that the child was still alive and kicking. "Here, you can have them, son," he said, handing the bag of jellybeans to Harry with a crooked smile.
"Thank you," Harry answered, still wondering why Dumbledore had had Every flavor beans at all, let alone with him at Voldemort's lair. For some reason, the time honored excuse of him being mental just didn't fit, but Harry decided to think about it later, as he was now following McGonagall and company back into the school for the reading of Dumbledore's will.
Nearly all of the people Harry hadn't known until that morning were soon gone as the reading went on, taking with them knick knacks and deeds and other personal items that had once littered the Headmaster's office. Once Aberforth received some more condolences and goodbyes, it was down to McGonagall, Sirius, Remus Lupin, the Weasleys, Moody, Hagrid, Snape and Harry.
"To Rubeus Hagrid, I leave all that you have earned," McGonagall announced, handing a Hogwarts degree to the blubbering gameskeeper. "Great man, Dumbledore," he sniffed, looking proudly at the looping script that adorned the sheepskin.
"To Remus Lupin, I leave the loyalty of Fawkes. May his tears and song comfort you on any night of the month." Remus swallowed hard as he stroked the bird's feathers, comforted by a soft note sung in response.
"To Sirius Black, I leave the memories contained in this bit of parchment that I have no idea about," McGonagall read, shooting Sirius a questioning and somewhat fearful glance as she handed him what Harry knew to be the Marauder's Map. Dumbledore must have taken it from the imposter Moody at the end of last term. Harry had to stifle a laugh as he saw the enraged look of recognition on Snape's face, and the bemusement and Remus Lupin's.
"To Severus Snape, I leave this vial of freedom, and with it my greatest respect," McGonagall continued, handing Snape a thin cylinder of what looked like indigo fire.
"What is it?" Lupin asked, drawn in like the rest of them by the hypnotic way the potion seemed to gyrate and lick the glass.
"I've no idea," Snape answered, the first time he had spoken all day.
"Drink it," Sirius prodded, earning a scowl from Snape.
"Are you mad, Black? It could be anything, I'm not going to just drink it."
"He said it's freedom, so I don't think it's poison," Sirius retorted.
"Yes, I think you should drink it, Severus," Lupin added.
"It might not be meant to be ingested is all I'm saying," Snape frowned, sniffing at the liquid in an attempt to recognize some ingredient.
"Well, let's just think about what Dumbledore said. Unless it's an all-purpose cleaner meant to free you from the dank dungeons you hang about, I'd say you should drink it," Sirius answered, earning a laugh from Harry and a reproachful glare from both McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley. Still, Snape swallowed the potion in one go and immediately yelped in pain, clutching his forearm.
"Severus, are you all right?" Lupin asked, trying to pry the Potion Master's hand away from his arm only to be pushed away.
"Let me," Snape growled, slowly rolling up his sleeve and nearly fainting when he saw it. Nothing. "It's gone," he whispered, feeling somehow alien in his own skin for the briefest of moments, until relief settled in.
"What's gone?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"His Dark Mark," Harry answered. "It's gone." He smiled at Snape, feeling genuinely happy for the man, no matter how insufferable he was 99% of the time.
Clearing her throat, McGonagall continued. "To the Order of the Phoenix, I leave my Pensieve and the faith that you won't really need it." Harry had no idea what that all meant, but he did see that everyone else in the room had shared a quick glance, a silent understanding.
"And to Harry Potter, I leave what is rightfully yours and the hope for a better tomorrow," McGonagall concluded, handing Harry Godric Gryffindor's sword.
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Harry sat with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in Dumbledore's old office, long after everyone from the funeral had left Hogwarts, some to go home, some to turn their thoughts towards the whereabouts of Voldemort, some to find comfort in the closest pub. Sirius had suggested that Harry go play a round of Quidditch with Ron and the twins, anything to lift his spirits, but for the past half-hour, Harry had been unwilling, maybe even unable, to leave the tower. He knew there was really no point to sitting around and waiting for the Headmaster to come in and explain that it was all one horrible mistake. But still, he waited, staring at Gryffindor's sword and remembering.
"It doesn't make any sense," Harry blurted, causing Sirius to jump at the sudden break in silence. Harry continued on as if he hadn't noticed. "I mean, he hated Every Flavor beans!"
"Maybe he finally got a good flavor?" Sirius suggested, shooting Remus a concerned glance that said, "This boy has gone crackers, ranting on about jelly beans."
"I doubt that," Lupin answered, deciding that an exercise in triviality would do Harry more good than harm. "I remember the time you got a scab-flavored one, Padfoot."
"Oh, don't remind me," Sirius grinned. "Of course we could never get Remus here to try one," he told Harry, pointedly shooting Remus a playful scowl.
"That's because they weeded out the ones that looked like they'd cause the most bodily harm," Lupin defended, seeing the smirk on Harry's face.
"Oh, how would you know?" Sirius asked. "You never even tried the red ones, which could have been cherry turnovers for all you know."
"Those were all either paint or blood," Remus retorted, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"How do you know that?" Harry asked, extremely grateful for a short break from the rather depressing thoughts he'd been having all day.
"It's his animal magnetism I bet," Sirius grumbled.
"What he means, young Harry, is that my olfactory senses are much more adept than the average wizard's," Remus explained.
"Translated, he's saying he smells much better, but don't you believe it. I lived in the same dorm as him for seven years and I can tell you that it was no bundle of roses when he came home after the full moon, or any other time for that matter," Sirius grinned.
After watching an amusing war of glares and pulled faces, Harry returned to his original point. "But why would he have these with him that night? Of all nights?"
"I don't know Harry," Lupin answered quietly, quickly regaining his composure. "Do you have an idea about it, or are you just picking something to argue about?"
"Well, I have no idea, but I don't think I'm just fishing for anything to grab at. Don't you two think it's strange?"
"It is a bit odd, yes," Sirius admitted, grabbing the bag of beans and looking inside, as if it held something other than candy. Unfortunately, it didn't appear to.
"Let me see," Remus said, holding his hand out for the pouch.
"Oh, like you can do something I can't," Sirius muttered, the bravado in his voice clearly put on for a show, since he had a good idea that Remus Lupin could do many things he couldn't.
Lupin, ignoring the comment, pulled out his wand and pointed it at the bag. "Finite Incantatem."
And suddenly, the three were no longer looking at a bag of Every Flavor Beans. They were looking at the Bloodstone.
"I knew that," Sirius whispered, though Harry could tell by his strangled voice that he was just as shocked as the rest of them.
"He must have transfigured it before…" Harry said, staring at the crimson facets that seemed to reflect every surface of the office. "But if he had the stone, what went wrong?" he demanded, trying to understand why he was so angry that the stone was here with them. Maybe it was because he'd rather have the Professor there instead.
"Maybe it was the transfiguration that actually did it," suggested Sirius. "That stone is a very powerful magical object, maybe it gave off so much energy that it blew the roof off the place?"
"I don't think that could be it," frowned Remus, upset that there were still so many unanswered questions about that night, and that, in all likelihood, they would remain unanswered. "It's true that the structure was torn open and that most of the people died, but I went and saw the damage done to the bodies, to Dumbledore's body, and there's no way he could have been at the center of the blast. He didn't have a mark on him."
"What do you mean, he didn't have a mark on him?" asked Sirius and Harry simultaneously. "How did he die then?" Harry continued.
"They don't really know," Remus answered uncomfortably. He'd rather not have this conversation in front of Harry. He had begun to notice the boy's increasing disillusionment with the Ministry and another testament to their ignorance might push him to the edge of cynicism. And the last thing Harry Potter needed was one less thing to believe in. Besides that, Sirius's open hatred for all things Ministry was more than obvious. But Harry just took it at face value and said little else as he continued to stare at the stone.
"What are we going to do with it?" he asked after a few moments.
"I'll ask Minerva," Remus answered. "She might want it kept here or, if not, Gringotts."
"Yes, we wouldn't want that thing getting into the wrong hands," Sirius added.
"Too bad we don't have Luca around to destroy it," Harry said.
"Well, it might come in useful if-" Sirius quickly began, before being interrupted by Harry.
"What happened to him that day?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore said he caught him talking to Wormtail, but what happened after that?"
Sirius shot Remus a look before answering, "He was killed so we could make the Polyjuice potion."
Harry had the distinct feeling that they were holding back on him, though why he did not know. Maybe they didn't want to talk about any more death, not after Dumbledore and all that had happened in Hogsmeade. "Doesn't seem like something Dumbledore would do," he mused, finding it hard to imagine that Dumbledore ever hurt anyone in his life, no matter how powerful a wizard he was. He was the type of man that knew that one's strength didn't lie in the ability to kill life, but in the ability to defend it without prejudice.
"Harry, it was something that had to be done. Luca was a threat to all of us and we needed another operative there with you once we found this out," Sirius answered.
"You killed him, didn't you?" Harry asked.
"No, I did," whispered Remus Lupin.
"But-"
"Harry, I'm not going to sit here and defend my actions, or say that it was Dumbledore's idea or that Luca was only a vampire. None of that would be honest, coming from a man who certainly isn't only a werewolf. But I can tell you that it wasn't an execution. It wasn't extermination. There was an altercation, people I cared about were threatened, and I was the first to react. I'm not sorry for it, and I'd do it again if the situation was the same," Remus answered stiffly, momentarily forgetting that he didn't need protection against the two people sitting in front of him.
"Remus, that stuff you said to me the other morning at the breakfast hall, you know that goes for you too, right?" Harry asked, hoping that his friend didn't feel half the regret he felt for taking another man's life.
"It doesn't though, Harry," Lupin answered sadly. "It was me. It wasn't the wolf or some uncontrollable surge of magic. I killed Luca."
"And saved me," Sirius added, giving Lupin a stern look that warned him against any more self-loathing.
"Why, what happened?" Harry asked.
"I was going to do the job myself until that bugger got the better of me," Sirius growled.
"You know, I don't think killing people is your strong suit," Harry answered thoughtfully. "Last time you tried it didn't go too well either." They all had to laugh at that, if only to forget what they were really talking about.
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Harry returned to the common room to fill Ron and Hermione in on all of the news and scenes from the funeral. He was reluctant to tell them about Remus Lupin killing Luca, thinking it really was a private thing. Next to grieving, it was one of the most private things in Harry's opinion. But he had missed his friends so much through the whole ordeal that he decided they deserved to know everything.
"Wow," was what Ron had to say, mentally picturing Remus Lupin: Vampire Slayer, making a note to remember not to get on the man's bad side, no matter how frail he looked.
"Won't he get in trouble?" worried Hermione after picking her jaw up off the floor. "Paragraph 12 of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans says that-"
"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" Ron scolded. "It was self-defense."
"I didn't think to ask him," answered Harry, ignoring Ron's comment. "But what do you think about the explosion, and the way they found him?"
"Maybe he's still alive," Ron mumbled, prodding his knight to take Hermione's bishop.
"Ron, I hardly-" Hermione began, but the idea made Harry smile, picturing Albus Dumbledore, yet again, sunning on some tropical beach. "Yeah, maybe," he answered as he sat back on the sofa and watched Ginny and the twins playing a game of gobstones across the way. Sitting there, watching his friends acting like the children they all were supposed to be, Harry's mind wandered on to happier things. Like a school year without Draco Malfoy and all of his goons. And a more tolerable Severus Snape. And seeing Cho's smile when she found out he was still alive. And Sirius being declared innocent and Harry's guardian. And Ginny being there to talk to. And further out. Fred and George opening their joke shop. Voldemort being found and defeated. Ron and Hermione getting married. And even if all of these things didn't happen like Harry hoped, the point was that he hoped. And that alone was worth living for.
The End
A/N: So that's it. Thanks to all of you, yet again. Your reviews made this worth writing. And thanks to JKR, who owns all of these wonderful characters and let me borrow her world for a short while. And maybe I'll write a sequel, if you peeps want me to. But for now, I'll see you on the flip side ;)