Chapter 16
Shock after Shock, Grief after Grief
Harry had experienced several sad Christmas days in Privet Drive, but those had only been sad for him because he had had to spend them with the terrible Dursleys. Ever since he had first gone to Hogwarts, his Christmas holidays had been wonderful, full of laughter and joy. This year was different. This year, there was nothing to celebrate.
What did people celebrate at Christmas at all? The birth of Jesus? Harry just could not bring himself to think of birth, right when his wife had miscarried. What else did people celebrate at Christmas? Love? For the time being, Harry's heart felt as empty as though he weren't capable of feeling love at all.
What was Christmas about, then? For the Potters, this year it was about shock and grief. How ironic… Sybill Trelawney would be rejoicing if she knew that her prediction seemed to have come true.
"Damn you, Trelawney!" Harry picked up a snow-covered piece of stone and threw it at a nearby tree with all his power, making the tree's thin trunk shudder and snow fall off its branches.
"Hey, that's my tree!" called an indignant Draco Malfoy from the neighbouring garden. "It isn't its fault that you're angry with that old rook!"
"Sorry," Harry sighed.
"What? Did I hear well?" Malfoy gaped. "You actually said 'sorry'? Are you sick, Potter?"
"No. Just got carried away by fury and bitterness… I'm sorry, Malfoy," he hung his head.
"Hey… something bad happened, eh?" Draco asked. "It's written all over your face. What happened… if you don't mind telling me…"
"Ginny lost the baby," Harry replied.
"Oh… I'm sorry," Malfoy said, and he did look sorry. "How is she?"
"How could she be?" Harry grunted. "She lost a lot of blood… she was in the fourth month, and losing a baby at this state is dangerous. Madame Pomfrey is with her; I'm waiting for her to tend Ginny so that I can go in. I want to be with her now."
Draco nodded. "If I can help with anything… prune your bushes now that you have no time for them…"
For the first time since dawn, Harry's mouth tucked into a small smile. "You know what, Malfoy? You are normal again."
"Normal?"
"Yeah. The first time I saw you normal was when you offered me to bury the hatchet at my wedding. Then you turned into the old, annoying Draco. The next time you were normal was when you told me what a git I was at the Durmstrang stall. After that you changed back into your usual arrogant self again… but today I saw your Durmstrang-self again. It's nice to be reacquainted with it, really."
Sirius appeared in the door and beckoned to Harry.
"Gotta go."
"Hey, Potter…"
"Yeah?"
"Say hello to my brother for me. I was rather rude to him yesterday, and… it's Christmas, after all."
"I will, Malfoy," Harry nodded and entered the house.
His children, the Hagrid family, Sirius, Ron, Hermione and their three kids were sitting in the living room, waiting. Sirius had arrived mere minutes after Harry had found Ginny in the bathroom - it was arranged for him to be there for the package opening, but under these circumstances no packages had been opened. All of them lay under the Christmas tree, untouched. So were the stockings, hanging from the fireplace without anyone casting a look at them. The Weasleys arrived at nine - by that time, Sirius had called Madame Pomfrey to Ginny.
The Hogwarts nurse appeared on the top of the staircase and Harry ran up to her.
"How's she?" he asked with a trembling voice.
"She'll recover," Poppy gave the young wizard a small smile. "I gave her sedatives - she needs a lot of sleep."
"She's okay! She'll recover!" Harry called out to the others. Relieved sighs could be heard from downstairs and little Lea squeaked 'Mummy will be okay! Can't we open the presents now?' Hermione hushed the child with the promise that they'd open the packages soon.
"Madame Pomfrey…" Harry turned back to the nurse.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Will she… will she be able to have more children, or…"
"Don't worry, Mr. Potter. She can give you as many children as you want."
"Thank you," Harry beamed. He was very relieved by the news - not that he insisted on having more children, but he knew that Ginny would want to have at least one more after all that had happened. "May I go in?"
"Yes, of course. But she's sleeping now."
Harry nodded and entered their bedroom. He didn't mind sitting next to the sleeping Ginny for hours on end - he could just sit there and look at her without getting bored of it… and he loved looking at her while she was asleep. She was so beautiful - like Snow White after having bitten into the apple - her complexion pale, almost translucent, her eyes shut, her long, black eyelashes in contrast with her alabaster-white skin… Harry reached out to caress her cheek, sweeping a stray flaming-red lock out of her face. "Everything's going to be okay, my love," he whispered. "Everything will be all right again."
"Where… where should I put these?" Ron asked from Sirius, showing some parcels he had been clutching all along.
"Just under the tree, I think," Sirius sighed. "There won't be a happy present-opening here today."
"Why not?" Lea pouted.
Ron placed some packages under the tree, then sat back down next to Hermione, who was holding Lea in her lap. "Geez, Hagrid, I'd say it's so good to see you again, but… I didn't expect to meet you under such circumstances…"
"S'okay, Ron," Hagrid nodded. "Nice ter see yeh, too. Yeh and Hermione have wonderful kids," he glanced at Viviane, Valentine and Rupert, who were talking to Titania in the corner. Lily was somewhere in the kitchen, and Norbert stood as far away from everyone as possible. He must have felt that it was family grief that he had nothing to do with. "I heard yer twins are just like Fred and George, only in female form. Is that true, Ron?"
"And how," Ron nodded with a grin.
"You three!" Sirius yelled at the triplets, who had just sneaked into the room from the garden - no one had noticed that they had been out for a while. "Where have you been? Can't you just be good children for one single day? Can't you feel your parents' grief?"
"You are unfair to us, Uncle Sirius," Rose Potter scowled, dusting snow off her jumper.
"We do know that mum and dad are very sad now," Robert said. "And we are also sad. We do have a heart, you know."
"Yeah… we wanted that little brother," Richard added. "Well… not at first, but later we did. It sucks that he died. And just to inform you, we didn't do any mischief."
"Then what were you doing outside?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. He had never heard these three talk this seriously before.
Rose unfolded her scarf that she had been holding in her hand, to show Sirius a flower - a wonderful lilac rose.
"You cut it off?" Sirius gasped. "But you never let anyone touch it, let alone cut it!"
The triplets loved gardening - as long as they were allowed to get themselves as dirty as possible. They had grown a lilac rose that never froze - a rose that had the most wonderful smell of all the roses. They didn't let anyone go near it, not their father, not even their mother.
"We wanted to bring it in for mum," Richie said. "You know that it's magical… it has a cheering smell. And mum needs to get cheered."
"Our heart ached when we had to cut it, but… anything for mum," Robert added. "Can we put it into a vase and into mum's room?"
Sirius nodded, touched by the triplets' decision. There were moments that brought out the best or the worst in people - and this family tragedy seemed to have brought out the best in these three little devils. Sirius made a mental note to tell Harry that his triplets weren't that much of worth-nothings as they were thought to be.
"And now - can we open the presents?" asked Robert.
"Just wait until your father comes down, okay?" Sirius sighed.
"Daniel…"
Dan looked up from the fireplace he had been gazing at, to see Viviane and Valentine standing next to him.
"What?"
"Look, Daniel…" Val sat down into the armchair facing the boy's. "We are sorry about your mum."
"Really? And why do you say this to me?" he snorted.
"You must think that we are heartless monsters, but we are not. Your brother died, your mother is ill, we are being nasty to each other… and it's Christmas," said Viv. She seemed to have a hard time forcing the words out of her, but she just carried on. "We want to end it."
"End? What?"
"This stupid hostility."
"Do you? Really?" Dan looked into the girls' eyes, trying to read in their expressions. They seemed to be honest.
"Yes. We have been so stupid. Forgive us, Daniel. Forgive us for blaming you because of those house-points, for making you fall off your broom, for laughing at you whenever you couldn't perform a charm… we were such dunderheads."
"Yes, you were," Dan grinned. "But so was I. I forgive you, if you also forgive me."
Val nodded and stuck out her hand, which Daniel accepted. The handshake was repeated with Viv as well.
"Shame that my brother had to die to make us reconcile, girls," he sighed. "I hope you know that our little truce doesn't mean that the fight between Kevin and me is over. It isn't over."
"But it will be," said Valentine. "One day it will be over. Just wait it out, Dan."
"I will forgive him if he comes to me to ask for my forgiveness. There's no other way," the boy replied resolutely.
"Don't be full of hatred, even at Christmas," Viv pleaded.
"It's not me who's full of hatred, but Kevin."
"You are hopeless, do you know that?"
"Yeah," Dan shrugged, then turned around to look for his friend. He wanted to tell him that he had forgiven the twins. But Norbert was nowhere to be seen.
Lily had been in the kitchen all morning, preparing breakfast, although no one felt hungry. Both her mother and Dinky were sick, and she, being the eldest daughter, decided to play the mistress of the house - work might be able to take her mind off a bit of the recent events…
"Hey."
She turned around to see Norbert standing in the doorframe.
"Hi," she said, colouring slightly. The kiss they had shared the previous day still vividly lived in her memories.
"May I help?"
"Well… why not?" she shrugged. "Slice those cucumbers, please, and put them on the sandwiches."
Norbert nodded and started placing cucumber-slices on the buttered bread-slices. "About yesterday…"
"There's no need to talk about yesterday," she shook her head, gazing down onto the kitchen table. "You helped me learn. You were a really good teacher, that's all."
"Teacher? Me?" the boy laughed. "It was my first time as well."
"Really?" she blinked. "You did it too… too well to be your first."
"Don't you believe me?" he gave her an impish grin.
"Should I?" she raised an eyebrow.
"It was my first. That's why it couldn't have been that good… I bet I could do it better now that I have a bit of experience."
"Better?" she gasped. "To me it seemed to be good enough."
"Then maybe this…" he leaned closer to her, "…is going to be even better."
Their lips had almost touched when they heard steps.
"Oh, Lily, I'm sorry about your mother…" said Norbert, stepping back, trying to look as though they had just been having a small-talk. "Ah, Professor Weasley, how are you doing today?"
"As well as anyone could be when her friends have lost a baby," Hermione replied sternly.
The boy nodded. "Sorry, Professor, stupid question. The sandwiches are ready, Lily."
It was already dinnertime when Ginny woke up. The first thing she saw was Harry's intently watching emerald-green eyes.
"Hi," he whispered with a small smile.
For a minute, her gaze travelled around the room, trying to comprehend why she was in bed when Harry was fully dressed, then it slowly dawned on her and a tear ran down her cheek. Harry reached out to wipe it away.
"Why… Harry?" she asked with a hoarse voice. "Why did it have to happen? Why… why did he have to die?"
"I don't know," he shook his head. "But don't think of it now. Try to stay calm."
"How… how could I stay calm when I have just lost my baby?" her face contorted in a painful way and she started to sob.
Harry gathered her into his arms and rocked her gently. "Shhh… it's okay. It will be okay…"
"But why, Harry?" she sniffed. "When Madame Pomfrey examined me last week she said that the baby was totally all right… Then why did he die? I don't understand… And even if it was inevitable, why did it have to happen at Christmas?"
"Quoting the words of a clever young lady, maybe it was the will of fate. Perhaps it wanted to test us. To see whether our love was strong enough to bear all this… and it is strong enough, Ginny. The love that connects us may create another baby. According to Madame Pomfrey, we can have as many kids as we want."
"But I wanted this one so badly!"
"I know, I wanted it, too. But we'll have other babies, if you'd like to," he placed a small kiss on her cheek. "Just tell me when you want it, and I'll be at your service, milady," he added with a wink.
"Oh, Harry Potter!" she playfully boxed into his chest, "You and your dirty little mind!"
"It's not dirty when you are concerned, Gin," he said with an unaccustomed seriousness, "when you are concerned, my love, I feel pure… my heart and soul feel pure and unspoiled… you know that I have not always been perfect, Gin, you know it better than anyone, but when I'm with you… I feel good. With you at my side, I can believe that I'm good… you make me good, my love, and I never thought of our relationship as something dirty, not even when we conceived Lily in a careless moment, not even when we sneaked into Hermione's classroom to make love, never… you and me, this relationship is sacred… blessed. And no matter what happens, we can hold out, together."
"Oh, Harry!" she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder.
"Cry, just cry, it helps…" he whispered, stroking her hair. Suddenly she drew back and wiped her tears with her nightgown-sleeve.
"You said the same at Durmstrang, Harry," she said, sniffing.
"When? I don't remember."
"When I believed you to be dead and you comforted me as an old man… I remember it as though it had been yesterday…"
"See, when I first told this to you, things turned all right… they'll turn all right this time, too. Have faith, Ginny."
"I'll try," she nodded. "Harry… is that the triplets' rose on my bedside table?"
"Yeah. They have brought it for you to cheer you up. Its petals are imbued with a cheering charm and, according to my Herbology studies, this is the only type of flower in the world that has such qualities."
"Awww… how sweet of them," she looked downright touched. "They never even let me near this flower before, and now they cut it off for me?"
"They did, because they love you. And so does everyone else here. We all love you, honey, more than you could possibly imagine."
"Lily, could I talk to you?"
"Yes, of course, Aunt Hermione… but about what?" Lily asked, though she knew pretty well what was about to come.
"What is going on between you and Malfoy's brother?"
"Nothing."
"I wouldn't say it was nothing, Lily," Hermione said with a scolding expression. "You were about to kiss when I entered. I thought you liked the Wood boy."
"I do like Chris Wood," the girl replied. "And I myself have no idea what happened between Norbert and me. But it didn't mean anything to me."
"I do hope that it meant nothing to you… you know that you need to be careful about jumping into relationships at your age…"
"But Aunt Hermione!" Lily gasped. "Don't give me the talk about the birds and the bees! I know it quite well, thank you. Anyway, Norbert is just eleven! Practically a baby! I don't even think he is a man already! His voice hasn't even broken yet, he's… he's way too young to do anything. And so am I. I'm not a woman yet, either," she said bitterly. "So we couldn't do anything… dangerous. And it's really Chris that I fancy, not Norbert. I'd never fall for a Malfoy, especially if he's two years younger than me. So rest assured that I'm safe from him."
"I hope you are," Hermione nodded. "Well, come with me, Olympe and Titania are saying good-bye to the others."
"Pity that they are leaving. Tita is really nice. French, but so much not like Yvette!"
"Yeah," Hermione smiled. "She's like Hagrid."
Ginny's mood seemed to have improved a bit over the next two days, but Harry was still worried, knowing that she had a knack of falling into depression. He still vividly remembered her when Daniel turned out to be a squib - she had been totally beside herself with despair and wouldn't eat, wouldn't talk and wouldn't even look at their son. He feared that she'd sink into a similar depression after this trauma. He feared that her current 'good' mood was just another suppression of emotions.
Ever since Christmas day, the triplets had behaved unusually well and even little Lea let her parents have a bit of peace. Lily helped a lot around the house and Daniel occupied himself with Norbert, deciding that it was the best if they weren't under his parents' feet. Daniel had told his friend about his reconciliation with the twins, but Norbert didn't approve. 'What if it was just a trap?' he asked. 'Their intentions might have been good, but what if they weren't? What if they just wanted you to believe that they were on your side while they're spying for Kevin?'
'Spying?' Dan waved. 'What could they reveal to Kevin, eh? That I'm sad about my mum's miscarriage? Be sensible, Norbert! I saw the girls and they meant what they said. I'm a good observer of the human nature, and I know that they were honest.'
'Well, if you're sure about this, then I'm happy that you reconciled with them.' his friend shrugged.
On Boxing Day Harry received a letter from Aunt Petunia.
Dear Harry,
Thank you very much for the talking picture. I'm having so much fun with it! That lady in it is quite talkative, but I find it wonderful - it is like constantly having a friend in the house. Vernon wanted to chuck it out, saying that it came from your freaky world, but I threatened him that I wouldn't cook for him in the future if he did anything to that painting. Last night, I put it into our bedroom, but Vernon got a bit irritated when he woke up at five in the morning to hear me talking to my new friend. So I think Bethany (that's the lady's name) will be placed into the kitchen.
Yesterday, Dudley and his family visited us. Imagine, Millicent is pregnant again! They told me to give you their best regards. Marge is coming tomorrow, I'll think she'll get a shock when she sees Bethany, but I don't care. (Would you have thought? - I'm beginning to tolerate magic!)
I hope you and your family are doing well. Happy Christmas,
Your Aunt Petunia
Petunia had also included a Christmas present - as useless as all the Dursleys' previous Christmas presents for Harry - a photo of the house at 4 Privet Drive. As if Harry hadn't seen it enough times! Well, people like Petunia never really changed… or did they?
On 28th December Ginny was allowed to get up and insisted on making lunch for the family and the guests - Hagrid and Norbert. Although his wife and daughter had departed to visit their uncle on the French riviera, Hagrid was staying until the end of the holidays.
"You know, your mother is really remarkable," whispered Norbert to Daniel over lunch. "She is tougher than I thought."
"Yeah," Dan swallowed a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding. "She's cool, my mum."
"Where is Dinky, mum?" asked Lea Potter.
"She's not feeling well, sweetie," Ginny replied. "She's still suffering from the flu."
"Mistress Ginny?" a squeaking little voice spoke up behind her.
"Dinky? What are you doing up? You should be in bed!" Ginny tutted. "You have to be cured of flu before you get up."
"Dinky is not having the flu, Mistress Ginny," the elf shook her head.
"No? Then why are you so sick?" Ginny frowned.
"When Madame Pomfrey was here in the morning, Harry Potter asked her to examine Dinky, too, and she said…" the elf's voice trailed off.
"What did she say?" asked Harry.
"Oh, Master Harry, Dinky does not know how to tell!" the elf broke into tears. "Such a shame… Dinky has been trying to find out how to break it to the family… but she couldn't make up anything… and she is feeling terrible now…"
"Why?" Hagrid asked with a kind expression - his liking for magical creatures hadn't ceased over the decades. "What happened that is so terrible?"
"Dinky has… broken a sacred elven rule!" the elf sobbed, hiding her ugly little face into her palms.
"The '500-day-rule'?" asked Daniel with an intrigued expression.
"Yeeees…" Dinky cried.
"What?" Harry knitted his eyebrows, having no idea about elves rules.
"She means she's pregnant," replied Norbert.
"Pregnant?" Ginny gasped. "Is that true, Dinky?"
"Yes, Mistress…" the elf sniffed. "Dinky is having a little elf from Dobby…" she placed her tiny hand on her stomach, gently caressing it, while tears were still pouring down her cheeks, onto her tidy cardigan.
She looked so pathetic that Lily and Hagrid felt pity for her, but Ginny's expression didn't reveal compassion of any kind. Harry's heart wrenched as he glanced at his wife. The elf's announcement couldn't have come at a worse time.
"I have lost my appetite. Excuse me," Ginny rose to her feet and left the dining room, leaving the sobbing Dinky and the perplexed family behind.
After having managed to talk Dinky into blowing her dripping nose and calming down a bit, Harry decided to look for his wife.
He found her in their room, flinging clothes out of the wardrobe. His heart missed a beat - she wasn't going to leave the house, was she?
Suddenly, she grabbed a pink dress and started to tear it. As its sleeve fell onto the ground, the dress turned a sad shade of dark-lilac. It was the dress she had received from Fred and George when she was carrying Lily - the colour-changing dress, her favourite - the one she had worn during all her pregnancies.
"What are you doing, Gin?" Harry ran up to her, fearing that she had gone mad.
"I won't be needing this, will I?" she growled and started to tear the other sleeve off.
"Stop Ginny, stop!" he jerked the cloth out of her hands and encircled her with his arms. She fought to let go, but he held her too tight. "It's okay, it's okay… calm down, please…" he beseeched her.
"How could I?" she hissed. "I have just lost my child and Dinky is announcing that she is pregnant! I feel like exploding, Harry! I must do something, something to let go of my anger, don't you understand?"
"Then punch me. Punch a pillow, or anything, but don't release your anger on that dress, it never hurt you."
"I know it didn't…" she whispered through gritted teeth, "but it was the first thing that came to my mind… I wanted to wear that dress again so badly, and I cannot!" she banged her tiny fists into Harry's shoulder, hard.
Harry didn't know what to do - maybe he should ask a psychiatrist at St. Mungo's again…
"You might be able to wear it again, honey… just wait it out. Have patience, and I promise you that you'll wear it again," he cupped her chin and kissed away the tears of anger that kept flowing down her face.
"You promise?" she whispered.
"I do," he nodded. "Now lie down a bit, Gin. Here, take this," he offered her a sedative pill that Madame Pomfrey had left there in case they needed it.
"No. No more drugs, thank you. I will have to face this with a clear head. God help me to succeed…" she pulled the cover up, not caring at all that she was still fully-clothed.
God help me to succeed. This line kept echoing in Harry's mind as he watched his wife fall into a deep slumber. He was sure that she'd have a nice, dreamless sleep - she seemed to have been exhausted. Sometimes, one single shock could tire you out more than a day spent with hard work… He grabbed the torn dress, kissed Ginny on the forehead and made a decision.
He looked up at the façade of the white building. It wasn't big, but it was very pretty. So, his parents had married here…
He took a deep breath and entered. Ginny had been right to say that he ought to visit this place - the mere walls of it were radiating peace, and peace was exactly what he needed now.
His gaze travelled around in the chapel that was painted white. There were only five rows of pews and a small altar, but nothing more could have fitted into this tiny building. A couple of vases were standing on the altar, full with white calalilies. Everything here seemed to be imbued with some inexplicable calmness that found its way into his heart as well.
He had been in only one other church before - the church of Little Whinging, but it didn't look half as pretty as this one.
He walked down the short aisle and stopped before the altar, lifting his head to look upwards.
"Hey, Old Boy," he whispered, "yes, I'm talking to you… sorry to bother you, but I think I need your help," he hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Listen, I know that I haven't really cared for you, and maybe I shouldn't be asking anything after that… I don't remember much of the things I heard about you, but one thing I do remember: that you are said to forgive everyone, no matter what they have done. I know… I know that I haven't been exactly like you would have wanted me to, but that's because of the way I grew up… no parents and everything. I suppose you know that, don't you? You know that I have been partly blaming you for all that happened to me? For what happened to the world… but I'll stop blaming you if you help now. Perhaps that sounds like blackmail, but… just let Ginny get all right, okay? Let her get out of her depression, let her heal… that's all."
He stood there without budging, as though waiting for a reassuring answer that refused to come. The chapel was as silent as it had been when he entered it. He hung his head, massaging his neck that got sore of gazing upwards for such a long time, then turned around to leave, thinking that perhaps he shouldn't have come… what was he expecting, after all? He couldn't have expected God to yell down from heaven that 'S'okay, apology accepted, she'll get all right!'. Staring at the tile floor he started to walk towards the door, feeling rather stupid. In the door, however, his gaze fell on a pair of shoes.
"Vicar Diggle?" Harry looked up.
The other man gave him a friendly smile. "I was wondering whether I'd ever get to see you here, Mr. Potter."
"Well, you do," Harry shrugged. "Though I don't really know what I'm doing here…"
"Praying, perhaps?" the vicar said, smiling again. "People usually come here to pray to God."
"God?" Harry whispered. "Is there a God at all?"
"A bit odd question to ask a vicar," John Diggle laughed. "Of course there is a God, Mr. Potter. A God who loves us all."
"Yeah… that was what I heard in the church in my childhood…" the young wizard sighed, "but I didn't believe it."
"Why?" asked the vicar, his face radiating interest and a willingness to help. Without noticing, Harry was walking back into the chapel with him, sitting down in one of the pews.
"Why?" he grunted. "Because he wasn't good to me. He let my parents die, he let Voldemort rule over the world and kill thousands of innocent people… he let me grow up with people from whom I never got love… I simply didn't have a reason to believe in his existence. Why did he let all these things happen? Why didn't he intervene? He is said to be the Almighty, then why…? He could have stopped it all."
"One thing at a time, Mr. Potter," the vicar said softly. "You ask why the Lord let your parents die? Well… had he not, then you very possibly wouldn't have been able to do away with Voldemort at the age of one. Had Voldemort not killed your parents, he would still have killed you, and then no one could have stopped him… he killed Lily and James - oh, I knew them well… I married them here… and you were also baptized here, Harry…" he added with a sad smile, "But I digress… So, Voldemort killed them, but your mother could protect you just before she died - protect you with a charm that stumped Voldemort. The ways of God are hard to understand, but he always has a reason for everything. He let your parents die, because he knew that with this the world would be saved for thirteen years."
"Okay, then… why did he let Voldemort return after thirteen years? And why did he let Voldemort gain power at all? If he knew how evil Tom Riddle was, then why didn't he just stop him from becoming a powerful dark wizard?" Harry asked, almost pleading the other man to explain things he had been longing to understand all his life.
"God has placed several difficulties in the path of mankind throughout history, Mr. Potter. He wanted to test us, to see whether our faith was great enough to bear the hardships…"
"You don't mean that God deliberately set Voldemort on the world?" Harry gasped.
"Of course not," vicar Diggle laughed. "No, that wasn't what I meant. What I meant was that he could have prevented those dreadful events, but he did not."
"But why?"
"Because God is a gentleman. He only intervenes when people ask him to."
"Then why didn't he intervene while Voldemort was making all the massacres? I bet that several witches and wizards were praying to him to stop the evil. Why didn't he stop it?"
"He did," the vicar said quietly. "Through you, Harry Potter."
"You're telling me that I was a tool in God's hand?" Harry furrowed his brow, feeling the whole thing ridiculous. Ridiculous, yes, but somewhere deep down it was exhilarating as well. He just didn't understand this feeling - this was something new, something he had never experienced before.
"But…" he still felt like debating. "I've heard priests say that God sees the past, the present and the future at the same time. Couldn't he have prevented Tom Riddle from being born if he saw the future and knew what he'd become…"
"Mr. Potter… Harry. You are talking about predestination, but that's not how it works. God gave every single person free will to make their own decisions. He gave Tom Riddle free will as well to choose from the paths of life. He chose the wrong path. According to my interpretation, God sees several possible futures and only one from those comes true - the one that the person chooses for himself."
Harry gave the vicar a surprised stare. He had never thought of these things like this before…
"I've got to go," he stood up. "Thanks for the talk, vicar Diggle."
"It was a pleasure to talk to you, Mr. Potter," the other man smiled and shook Harry's hand. "It seems we are getting a snow-storm tonight. I'd better place a snow-repelling charm on the door," he drew a wand out of his robes and flicked it at the door. Something seemed to have rippled in the doorframe - something translucent, looking like water arranged into a very thin wall. John Diggle stepped through it, followed by Harry. "A tricky little charm - anyone can visit the chapel during the storm, but the snow and cold will be kept outside."
Seeing a vicar doing magic was a rather unusual sight - Harry had never seen priests doing it. Certainly he had seen wizard priests at his wizard friends' weddings, but those priests usually didn't do magic, just asked the 'do you?'s. Now Harry understood more than even before how stupid the witch-hunts had been - there were witches and wizards who believed in God, still it was the church that kept chasing them and trying to kill them. Why were the people of the old times so dense not to realise that magic and faith in God could actually live together?
"Are you coming to the New Year's party to the Three Broomsticks, Mr. Potter?" asked the vicar.
"Well, not likely," Harry shook his head. "My wife is not feeling well and I don't think that she'll get well enough in three days to go partying."
"I'll pray for her," said John Diggle.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. I hope to see you soon, Mr. Potter."
By the time Harry got home, the blizzard had broken out and tore at the bare branches of the trees like a hurricane, making them sway and creak dangerously. Harry found Ginny sitting on the windowsill of their room, staring out into the storm.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered, her chin resting on her knees, her arms encircling her drawn-up legs. For a moment she looked like a little girl… Harry remembered the Christmas of his sixth year at Hogwarts - the only Christmas he had spent at the Burrow. One night, he had been unable to fall asleep because the ghoul in the attic had decided to sing 'Deck the halls' for hours on end. Ron must have already got used to the ghoul's antics, but Harry had not. So, he had grabbed his blanket and pillow and headed downstairs, hoping that he'd be able to sleep on the couch in the living room. However, the living room had already been occupied by someone - the small hunched figure of Ginny was sitting at the window, gazing out into the night, watching the wind chasing snowflakes across the sky. She looked so tiny and vulnerable, Harry had thought before realising that he had been standing there for minutes. He chastised himself for gawping and reminded himself of his one and only love: Cho.
Now that he looked back at those memories, he found it incomprehensible that he had ever been able to love someone like Cho when Ginny was around. And he found it even more incomprehensible that Cho had managed to wake certain emotions in him when they had met again. Why? He loved Ginny!
"Yes, it's really beautiful," he nodded and sat down next to her. "Beautiful and dangerous. Just like a certain red-haired female I know."
Ginny gave him a questioning look. "Dangerous? Me?"
"Yeah, you," he grinned. "Because whenever you look at me like that, I feel capable of anything… even totally crazy things. I'd do anything for you just to see you happy. Anything."
"I know," she smiled. When Sirius had left Rosmerta's place over the afternoon he had seen Harry enter the chapel. Naturally, he had told Ginny about it and she felt touched. She knew about Harry's not-so-wonderful relationship to the Almighty and found it downright endearing that he had made this sacrifice for her - because she knew that she was the reason for Harry going there. "I know," she repeated and bent her head on his shoulder. "And that's why I'm going to be happy again… because I want you to be happy, too."
He gave her a confused look.
"I meant that I'd try with all my might to get over this as soon as possible, and I promise you not to let myself sink into depression… I can't afford to feel depressed when I have six wonderful children and a husband who loves me above all. That just wouldn't be fair, would it?"
As a reply, he tilted his head and kissed her, long. "I am the luckiest man on Earth to have you as my wife. And if there is a God, then I must thank him for giving you to me."
31st December
"Daaaaad, let us come!"
"No way," Harry shook his head. "You three are just ten years old."
"But we are going to turn eleven in three weeks!" Robert protested.
"Less than three weeks!" Rose added. "You must let us go to the New Year party!"
Harry exchanged a glance with Ginny, who shrugged. "It wouldn't be that terrible to bring them too, would it?" she said. The previous day, she had all of a sudden told Harry that she wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks for the New Year party. Harry was delighted by the idea, believing it to be a sign of Ginny's healing. After grieving over the loss of their child for a week, she badly needed something to cheer her up, and the party promised to be very cheery indeed.
The Potter parents decided to take Lily, Daniel and Norbert as well, since they were old enough to stay up until midnight. 'But don't expect us to let you drink champagne!' Harry had told them. Now the triplets grew bold and demanded to be taken to the party on the basis that Norbert was just one month older than they were and he was allowed to go. What could a parent do in such a case if he wanted to be regarded 'fair' by his children?
"All right," Harry sighed.
"Yippppeeee!" Richie jumped for joy.
"But no champagne," their father reminded them.
"Okaaay…" Rose pouted.
Dobby visited the family during the afternoon - or rather put it this way: Dobby visited Dinky during the afternoon (he had proposed to her the previous day and she gladly accepted). Both he and Dinky were relieved that the Potters weren't actually mad at them for creating a little elf - Harry, for one, found it rather amusing, and tried to imagine the baby elf to-be-born: a tiny, brown faced, bat-eyed thingie peering out of blue/pink swaddling clothes. He couldn't wait to see Dobby's son/daughter, given that he had never seen a baby elf before. Elves were said to be pregnant for seven months before giving birth, so the little one should be arriving in early June… around the same time his son should have been born, Harry thought bitterly, then shook his head to chase away the sad thoughts - it was the last day of the year after all, and it was supposed to be fun.
Dobby offered to stay in the Potter house with Dinky and watch over little Lea who, naturally, wasn't about to be taken to the party. She sobbed her heart out, kicked her father in the shin (Harry was seeing stars for a while), but her parents still refused to take her. "You're too young, sweetie, you should be in bed by eight o'clock, you'd only fall asleep in Madame Rosmerta's pub…" said Harry soothingly, while casting a pain-killer charm on his leg. "And of course the owls are going to stay with you here, you can choose one to take up to your room and he or she can stay there with you while you're sleeping." This in itself was a great allowance from Harry, because Lea up till now had not been allowed to use the owls ('they are for carrying letters, not for playing with little girls, honey!').
Lea gave her father a surprised look, then said: 'Okay, then, I choose Hedwig!'
What could Harry do? A promise was a promise… so poor Hedwig was to spend the night in Lea's room, exposed to the danger of getting squashed to death by a friendly hug from the child.
At eight o'clock, Harry put his youngest daughter into bed and carried Hedwig into her room. "Sorry, old girl, it's just for one night," he whispered to his favourite pet and gently patted her head. Hedwig nipped at his fingers in a bit miffed way, then flew to Lea's bed and perched herself on the bedpost. "Good girl," Harry smiled. "Good night to you both."
"I knew I'd be meeting you soon, Mr. Potter!" John Diggle greeted the Potters as they entered Rosmerta's pub. He was already a bit tipsy.
"Good evening, Vicar Diggle," Harry smiled.
"Just call me John tonight, okay?" the vicar giggled and downed the umpteenth cup of mulled mead.
"Yeh don't mind if I join yeh, do yeh?" asked Hagrid from Mr. Diggle. "Four pints of mulled mead, Rosmerta dear!"
"In a minute, Hagrid!" the landlady replied. She had her hands full tonight - the pub was always teeming with people on New Year's Eve. Whole Hogsmeade seemed to have gathered into this one small building. Harry met Doris Crockford (who didn't miss the opportunity to shake his hand) and Daedalus Diggle (who was wearing his usual purple robes and singing 'What should we do with the drunken sailor' - he looked even more pissed than his brother).
Harry and Ginny looked for a less-crowded corner and sat down with Ron and Hermione, while their children immediately spotted the Weasley kids and joined them. Certainly Ron and Hermione hadn't brought their youngest child, Rupert - he was at Burrow Manor with his grandparents. According to Ron, Arthur and Molly were also having some kind of a party at their house, and Harry felt a bit relieved to get to know that Fred and George were visiting that party, so they weren't likely to turn up here and cause trouble.
Neville and his wife were also present, along with Neville's father. Frank Longbottom was a sympathetic, though a bit strict-looking old man - maybe his earlier job as an Auror or the several years spent in the lunatic ward of St. Mungo's had left their mark on him… Harry didn't know.
"Would you look at that!" Ron pointed at the door. "Your neighbours have arrived."
Indeed, Draco Malfoy and Gabrielle Delacour had entered - to Harry's greatest surprise - arm in arm. The truth was that Malfoy hadn't been planning to come with Gabrielle, but they had met on the way to the pub and she had just taken his arm as though it had been the most natural thing in the world. And Draco, being a Malfoy, could not just toss a lady's arm away - what would it do to his reputation as a gentleman?
"Malfoy doesn't look too happy," perceived Ginny.
"I can't see why… Gabie isn't even wearing a green-goblin mask now," Harry commented.
"Speaking of goblins…" Hermione said, pointing at another corner where four goblins were chatting and giving Malfoy rather dark glances. "If I were Malfoy, I'd close that bank. These goblins are playing dirty and his life is worth more than a dratted bank."
"Since when?" Ron asked.
"Ha-ha," his wife said. "Come on, let's dance."
"Would you honour me by giving me this dance, milady?" Harry turned to Ginny as his best friends disappeared into the crowd.
"Certainly," she smiled and let him lead her towards the dance floor. On their way there, they passed by the triplets who were drinking something with rather bemused glances.
"This is no Butterbeer," Harry stated, snatched the glass out of Robert's hand and smelled it. "Quality Wizard Vodka! My gosh, where did you get it? Rosmerta doesn't even sell stuff like this!"
"S'rry, can't tell," replied Rose and staggered backwards - Harry could barely catch her before she fell.
"I told you that you weren't allowed to…" he began.
"Dad, hic, you said hic… no champagne!" Richard reminded him. "This is no champagne…"
"Where did you get it?" Ginny asked with a 'serious-mother-look', but the children seemed determined not to tell.
"All right, then, you are going back to the house and miss the midnight-celebration," their father said.
"Okaaaaay… those goblins hic… had some of this," said Robert, pointing at the corner where the goblins had been sitting. But they had vanished.
What could Harry do? Go and hunt for goblins on Hogsmeade's streets at the middle of the night? Those little monsters could have long Apparated to Diagon Alley or any other part of Great Britain.
"Why would goblins give children alcoholic drinks?" Harry mused after having performed the Anti-Alcoholicus Charm on his children. "And I presume they made you pay for it, right?"
"Well…" Rose drawled, "Aha… wizard vodka is expensive… why would they give it to people for free?"
"I suppose they asked the tenfold of the usual amount, just because you were kids and you couldn't have got it the normal way," Ginny said, scowling.
"Yeah," Richie sighed, looking guilty.
"How much did they ask for it?"
"Ten galleons," whispered Rob.
"Ten galleons?" Harry yelled. "You could get a wand for that! How did you have enough money for it, huh?"
"Well… we have been saving up the pocket money we got from you, dad," shrugged Rose. "We thought tonight would be a good opportunity to spend it."
"Very good, indeed," their father snorted. "No pocket money for six months."
"Six months?" the triplets gasped.
"I don't want to hear a single word or it will be a year. And now, off with you, go and talk to Lily."
"Why Lily? She's boring!" sighed Richard, but seeing his father's expression, he left, followed by Robert and Rose.
"I wonder what makes goblins sink so low - selling alcohol to little kids?" Ginny shook her head in disbelief.
"Malfoy," Harry replied.
"What?" she blinked.
"It's all because of Malfoy's bank. I have seen those four goblins before - in Gringotts. Since Malfoy opened his bank, lots of goblins have lost their cosy Gringotts jobs - they are simply not needed anymore, given that the bank lost almost half of its clientele. They had to do something for a living - and they turned alcohol-smugglers or something like that."
"Oh, the shame!" she hissed. "I never thought that Draco's bank could be such a problem for Gringotts…"
"It apparently is."
When they finally started to dance, Harry's eyes met those of Cho who was animatedly talking to Gabrielle (it seemed that Draco had somehow fled from the young part-Veela). Harry just nodded as a sign of having recognised Cho, but turned his attention back to his wife. Cho did not seem happy about this.
Daniel, meanwhile, was swooning over Liu, who had naturally come with her mother.
"Really nice party, huh?" he tried to start a conversation, fiddling with his brand new broom that he had got for Christmas. (He was so delighted about the present that he hadn't parted with it ever since Christmas day, and even insisted on flying it to the Three Broomsticks).
"Yes, very nice," the girl nodded, clearly bored.
"Would you… would you like to dance with me?" Dan asked a bit insecurely.
"Only to end up in a bush with you again?" Liu wrinkled her nose.
"No, of course not!" he protested. "And it was you who wanted me to kiss you, not the other way around!"
"Hah! Do you have any idea how impolite it is to remind a lady of something like this?" she snapped. She had been avoiding Daniel ever since the Halloween party - maybe she felt ashamed that they had been caught kissing…
"But it's… it's just the truth," Dan muttered, turning red as a cherry.
"Listen here, Daniel," said Liu, "I like you, I really do… but just like a friend or a brother. And you seem to want to be more than that."
"You wanted to kiss me that way!" he replied angrily. "Friends do not kiss the way we did!"
"You are so immature, Daniel!" Liu jumped up from her seat. "One can't have a normal conversation with you!"
"Do you call lying and denying things normal? Because if you do, then I really can't have a normal conversation!" the boy shouted and stormed away from her.
"It seems Dannie has problems with his girlfriend," Norbert whispered into Lily's ear.
"I didn't even know he had a girlfriend," she replied, blushing. The closeness of the boy made her feel uneasy.
"Oh, he doesn't really have one… but he's pining over Liu Chang. Didn't you know?"
"No," she shook her head. It was scary that her little brother had grown up so early! She had actually seen him the other day having an arousal and now he turned out to be running after another first-year! This wasn't fair, she thought. Ickle Dannikins was a Big Boy already, while she wasn't a Big Girl yet, although she was more than a year older than him! And then there was this Norbert, who seemed to have something for her. At least Daniel was 12 already, but Norbert was barely eleven! Girls are said to mature earlier than boys, but she seemed to be an exception. Or had all boys gone mad?
"Will you excuse me?" Norbert said suddenly. "I've got to go after Dan before he does something stupid."
"Of course," she replied, watching as Norbert caught up with Daniel. She couldn't help wondering why Malfoy had asked to be excused at all - as if she had wanted him to join her!
Meanwhile, Sirius had arrived and Vicar Diggle had disappeared - according to Doris Crockford, he had got himself so drunk that he was puking somewhere outside. This Doris Crockford was a terrible gossip. She had one or two nasty comments about everyone, and not even Harry (whose hand she had shaken three times that evening) was an exception:
"You know," she turned to Mrs. Figg, "I heard that Mrs. Potter has lost her baby. But no wonder, after all, she must have been overworking. She has re-opened Honeydukes, she's also doing everything around the house because those worth-nothings she has for children aren't much of a help, and not even her husband helps her enough."
"What gives you that idea?" asked Arabella, fondling a kitty (she had brought three cats to the party because she simply couldn't exist without her pets).
"Well, didn't you see the Potter sledge flying over Hogsmeade on Christmas Eve?" Doris said, "Mrs. Potter was driving that beast… you have no idea how hard it is to control these reindeers! Once Aberforth Dumbledore let me go a round on his sledge and I tried to control those animals - totally impossible! I'm sure that the Potter's reindeer must be just like that - trying to control it is an extremely tiring work, especially for a pregnant woman. Of course she lost the baby the same night!"
"Honestly, Doris, I don't think that Ginny's miscarriage has anything to do with her driving the sleigh," Mrs. Figg shook her head.
"Still," Miss Crockford replied, "Harry Potter should have taken better care of his wife, I'm telling you! And Mrs. Potter…"
"What about her?" Arabella rolled her eyes.
"Well, she lost her baby a week ago, and instead of staying at home and grieving over the loss, she's here, partying! What kind of a person is she?"
"A very nice one, I believe," Mrs. Figg said and left Doris to share her negative thoughts of the Potters with someone else.
So, Miss Crockford was forced to look for a new chat-partner and chose Draco Malfoy for the role. However, on her way to Draco, she shook Harry's hand for the fourth time as well.
"May I steal your husband for a minute?"
Ginny turned around to see Cho standing behind her, eyeing Harry. "Excuse me?"
"You don't mind if I steal Harry for a minute, do you?" Cho repeated.
"Of course not," Ginny said with a hint of sarcasm and offered her husband's hand to the other woman. Cho took it without hesitating, even before Harry could voice his opinion. He barely saw that Draco (who had fled from Doris Crockford) asked Ginny for a dance, because Cho had already whisked him away from the dance-floor.
"I thought you wanted to dance," he said.
"No. I wanted to talk," she said with a sweet smile.
"About what, Cho? I thought we had already discussed everything," he sighed.
"About us."
"There's no 'us', Cho, don't you understand? I'm a married man with six children… I can't give you anything but my friendship."
"You can't, or you don't want to?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Stop confusing me, please, and listen to me," he said. "I did love you back at Hogwarts, I admit that, but that's over and we can't be more than friends."
"Your wife wouldn't have to know," she whispered.
"You have changed, Cho. You have changed a lot," he replied with a serious expression. "The Cho Chang I remember would never have offered me to cheat on my wife with her - the old Cho would have accepted that I was committed to someone else."
"So… this is about commitments? Just the feeling of responsibility? Not love for your wife?" she reached out to touch his hand, but he quickly pulled it back.
"Of course it is about love for my wife!" he grunted and nervously ran his hand through his messy locks. That was a great mistake.
"I know this gesture, Harry," Cho declared. "It is involuntary, but it means that you aren't telling the truth… or at least you're telling just a part of the truth."
"What do you mean?" he knitted his eyebrows. He was beginning to dislike the discussion more and more by every passing second.
"I mean that you still have feelings for me," she tilted her head a bit, letting a silky black curl fall onto her bare shoulder. That was only when Harry noticed what a skimpy dress she was wearing.
"You are imagining things, Cho."
"Am I?" she reached out to cup his chin, and this time he was too slow to retreat - her hand made contact with his face and a wave of heat coursed down his body. He was on the verge of saying 'damn you, Cho, get yourself a boyfriend' when suddenly Dobby burst into the pub.
"Fire!" he squeaked. "The Potter house is on fire!"
Harry jumped up from his seat and Ginny disentangled herself from Draco's embrace.
"Lea!" they shouted in unison Disapparated in the next instant.
Little Lea had been asleep for more than an hour when the also slumbering Hedwig had sensed that something was amiss. She swivelled her head, looking around for the source of the problem, and then she saw it: smoke was filtering into the room, under the door. She swooped down on the child, brushing her with her wings.
"Don't tickle, Hedwig…" Lea muttered in her sleep, but the owl kept tickling her. When she saw that it was not effective, she decided to pinch the little girl's earlobe. "Ouch!" Lea shouted, sitting up and rubbing her eyes drowsily. "What is it, Hedwig?"
The owl flew to the door, signalling that the child should notice something there.
"Smoke…" Lea coughed. "Is there… fire?"
Hedwig hooted something that the girl took as a yes.
"Then we've got to get out of here, Hedwig!" she shouted and ran up to the door and ripped it open, only to face a wall of fire. "We can't get out this way!" she started to cry. Not even Hedwig could fly through the flames, because they reached from the floor up to the ceiling. "Dobby! Dinky! Help!" Lea yelled, but no reply came. Maybe the elves were dead already…
She banged the door shut and barricaded herself and Hedwig into her room, hoping that the door would at least hinder the flames for a while until they could get through the window.
She ran up to the window, but was too small to reach the handle of the windowpane. There were no chairs or tables in her room that she could have pushed to the window to stand on.
"Hedwig, can't you open it?" she shouted in despair.
The owl attacked the handle, trying to turn it, but it refused to obey her. It seemed that owls' claws were excellent for carrying packages, but not for opening windows. Carrying packages… Hedwig got an idea. Owls could carry very heavy packages, after all…
She swooped down on the little girl, flinging her claws before Lea's eyes.
"What do you want?" Lea asked, wiping tears of fright away. Or did those tears come because of the smoke? It was beginning to be more and more difficult to breathe in the small room. Hedwig flung her legs towards the child, as if saying 'come on, understand me, please!' And Lea did. "You want me to grip your legs and you'll hoist me up to the windowsill so that I can reach the handle?"
The owl hooted reassuringly, though quite feebly. She was a very old bird, after all, and smoke did not do good to any creatures, especially if they were her age.
"Okay…" the little girl reached out and grabbed Hedwig's legs, the owl's claws digging into her palm, making her wince - still she knew that she had to hold on, no matter how much it hurt - she had to hold on if she wanted to survive.
Slowly, very slowly, they started to rise from the floor…
Harry, Ginny and several other witches and wizards Apparated to the Potter house. Dinky was standing in front of it, trembling and sobbing. Six owls - Hedwig's children - and one raven - Norbert's pet - were flying around, letting out excited hoots and croaks. Abu the monkey was jumping up and down in the snow, squeaking in a terrified way.
"Where's my daughter?" Harry yelled at Dinky.
"Up… in her room, Master," the elf howled.
Harry didn't ask why the elves hadn't brought Lea out of the flames - there was no time for questions.
Some wizards immediately melted the ice on the garden lake's surface and directed its water on the walls. While they occupied themselves with the extinguishing on the outside of the building, Harry burst into the living room, only to see everything on fire. He started to extinguish the flames in his way up to the staircase, but it was a hopeless fight. The whole first floor was blazing, impenetrable for one single wizard. "I'll help!" Sirius caught up with him, and so did Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom. Harry didn't even have time to get surprised by Draco's sudden willingness to help, or Neville's sudden heroism. With the help of extinguishing and shield charms - and using some of the water from the small built-in swimming pool - the four of them made their way through the flames, to the little girl's bedroom.
"Lea!" Harry coughed, waving to fan the smoke to see something… but the room was empty. Its window, however, was open. Harry's heart skipped a beat. The four men ran up to the window and looked down - Lea was there, in Hagrid's gigantic arms. She must have jumped out mere seconds earlier. Harry's heart started beating again - thank heavens, his daughter was alive!
He, Draco, Neville and Sirius turned around to leave the room, but the flames had again barricaded their way.
"Harry, jump!" called Hagrid, showing him a huge piece of clothing - very likely Hagrid's winter coat - that he and four other wizards stretched beneath the window like a trampoline.
"You three first!" Harry shouted at Draco, Neville and Sirius.
"I'm not defying!" Malfoy replied and jumped, followed by Longbottom.
"Go on, Harry!" Sirius yelled.
"You go, it's my house!"
"You're not a captain who has to go down with his ship!" his godfather replied and pushed Harry forward, so that he lost his balance and fell. Hagrid's cloak saved him. Right after him Sirius jumped, too.
Harry ran up to Lea, who was already in Ginny's arms, sobbing, clutching something that looked like a messy whitish-grey ball in her arms.
"My little angel!" he pulled the child into a firm embrace, and only when he let go did he realise what Lea was gripping so close to herself.
Hedwig.
"Daddy…" the little girl sniffed, "she saved me… she lifted me up to the window-handle…" with that Lea handed the owl to her father.
Harry felt as though a dagger had been stabbed into his heart. "Hedwig…" he whispered, and a tear ran down his sooty cheek, onto the beak of his old friend.
'…I still haven't got yeh a birthday present.'
'You don't have to…'
'I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at - an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl.'
Picture after picture flashed into Harry's mind: Hedwig drinking from his orange juice, Hedwig bringing dead mice back, Hedwig nipping at his fingers, Hedwig being angry with him, Hedwig being jealous of Pigwidgeon… and he caught himself sobbing like he hadn't done for ages. He drew the owl to his chest, hung his head and just cried, his body trembling with each sob.
"She died a hero," said Hagrid's raspy voice. "An' she was old already."
Harry looked up at his half-giant friend. "She was the… most wonderful pet one could ever wish for… I thought… I thought she'd never die…"
"What happened here?" Vicar Diggle - looking like someone who had just been sobered up by the Anti-Alcoholicus Charm - stepped to the little crowd gathering around the smoking house.
A squad of sooty wizards and witches (Ron, Hermione, Frank Longbottom, Daedalus Diggle, Mrs. Figg and a few others) just stumbled out of the building - they had entered after Harry, Draco, Neville and Sirius, and had managed to put out the fire after those four had jumped out of the window. The cheery-yellow painting of the house now looked dirty grey, dotted with black, the roof was missing in certain places and the little garden pond was dried out - all its water had been used for putting out the fire.
"What happened here, you are asking?" Harry turned to the vicar, his green eyes reduced to slits. "Just one thing happened, Mr. Diggle: God has proven me how much he loves me."