Title: When All is Said and Done
Author: Liisa
Genre: Angst, Drama
Characters: Harry, Remus, Mr. Weasley
Summary: Who is left when it is all over? And will they be able to bear it?
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's note: This was originally written as a challenge to write the last chapter of the 7th book but I really wanted feedback on it, so I decided to post it here for everyone's viewing pleasure
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It
wasn't the first time that everyone present had made the trip,
considering how the last few months that had agonizingly gone by, but
it was certainly the most reverent that any of them had ever been.
The sign reading "Funeral Hall" swung ominously in the
wind. It seemed to mock Harry, Hermione, and Ron as they trudged up
the long, black stairs that lead to the building. Harry glanced
towards it and could almost feel Voldemort's cruel laugh and
twisted grip on his neck once again. Shivering despite the warmth
around him, Harry tore his eyes away, determined to not think about
it.
Mr. Weasley held the door open for them as they walked
through the gates, past the hall, and into the field where they could
already see the gravestones glistening in the evening light. Harry
glanced over at Ron and Hermione and saw that they were clasping
hands and comforting each other in small undertones. He looked to his
side but of course found no one there. He didn't know what would
have happened if Ginny had lived, but he figured they would at least
still be holding hands, still laughing together, still comforting one
another about the war that had finally ended.
He pushed the
thoughts away and managed to make it over to the gravesite. Only ten
of them were there, another fact to show how much had truly been
lost. Along with him, Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley, they had managed
to convince the doctors to let Remus come along, though he was still
severely damaged from his confrontation with Peter.
That was
one gravesite that Harry wouldn't even spit on.
Fred and
George were there as well; their normally spunky and chipper moods
that had kept everyone going had been melted down. Bill and Charlie
were both still too weak to make the journey. But they had bought
flowers and, with crying eyes, told their father to take them to
their mother and baby sister.
Harry's throat stopped up as
he saw Mr. Weasley silently kneel and place the flowers upon the
graves of his wife and daughter, side by side. Tragedy, it seemed,
was an infectious disease that hit the best of people.
Harry
risked a look back at the remaining members of their small group:
Neville, Tonks and, surprisingly, Snape. Though Harry was still
grateful for the assistance Snape had given during the final battle,
the thoughts of what he had almost done to Remus would not be driven
out of his conscious.
Neville had agreed to come, paying
respects to the man who had saved his life. Albus Dumbledore's
marker lay a little to the side of the two Weasley's. Even standing
next to it, Harry could still feel the power and authority that
Dumbledore had wheedled on the earth. Only one man could have taken
him down. And only one man could have taken that man down.
Harry's
eye burned as he thought of the deaths, the sacrifices, and the
losses on both sides. If only...
Those seemed to be the two
words that constantly replayed in Harry's head as he watched the
silent mourners gaze on the graves. He, Harry, could have prevented
these deaths.
But he stopped himself before he dug himself
any deeper, and he remembered Remus' earlier words.
Guilt
for your actions could be the worst road to take; in honoring your
loved ones memories, or in striving to continue your own life...
Gone
were the days when he accepted the blame for everything. There was
only one person to blame, and he was as dead as he would ever be.
Harry might not have been able to prevent these Wizards and Witches
deaths, but he had prevented countless others by finally destroying
Voldemort.
Nymphadora Tonks had come on behalf of Remus,
something Harry found rather amusing in these dark times. Though the
two never admitted to anything more than friendship, Harry was
grateful that Remus had at least that much.
He gazed over at
his father's old friend, noticing the lines in his face and the
firm jaw he seemed to have set. It was almost pitiful. This man had
probably gone through more than anyone else in this war. It was
almost as if he didn't have any more sadness to give out. And now,
the one man who had stood by Remus through everything, who had given
him a chance at life, at school, at friendships...was gone.
Tonks
slid and arm around Remus' waist and leaned her head against his
shoulder.
Not wanting to intrude on the moment, Harry walked
over to Mr. Weasley who was still transfixed on the two graves of his
family.
"If it's any consolation, sir," Harry said
quietly, "I believe we both lost the women we loved."
Mr.
Weasley didn't move but Harry saw him smile a bit as teardrops
silently fell down his face. "Yes...I had suspicions on that
subject."
Harry gazed down at Ginny's grave and felt his
own tears burning at his eyes, but was determined not to let them
fall.
"I loved your daughter very much, Mr. Weasley."
"Yes, Harry, I know."
Harry managed a bit of a
smile and looked towards the older man. "And if it's any
consolation, I know for a fact that she loved you very much..."
Mr. Weasley sighed miserably and still did not look at Harry.
"She never meant those things she said," Harry continued.
"She told me not two weeks ago that she wanted more than anything
to make up with you again."
Harry finally felt a few tears
drop as Mr. Weasley finally looked up. "She was so excited about
the war almost being over, that maybe she would be able to find you
and her mother soon and...and set things right..."
"I
wish it could have happened that way, Harry," Mr. Weasley finally
said.
Harry didn't bother to wipe away the offending tears
trailing down his cheeks. "So do I..."
Harry turned as
he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked into the kind eyes of Remus
Lupin who was managing to smile at him through the bitter cloud of
depression that seemed to have sunk in on the gravesite.
"Harry,
could I have a word?"
Nodding, Harry followed Remus who led
him just over a small hill next to the graves and then stopped and
turned to him.
"I would say 'How are you feeling', but
I can tell by the look on your face," Remus told him.
Harry
heaved a sigh. "Guess I'm not much good at hiding my feelings
anymore."
Remus seemed to study him for a moment before
speaking again.
"Harry, I know you probably don't want to
hear me say this, but I'm going to anyway: I'm very proud of
you."
The words hung in the air and Harry felt the slight
bitterness of them penetrate it.
"And I'm sure that
Sirius and your parents are very proud of you, too."
Harry
shook his head. "What's there to be proud about? I mean, sure I
defeated Voldemort, but the cost, Remus! The cost was so dear to me,
to everyone! You know that more than anyone."
Those words
seemed to sting Remus a bit and he hesitated before continuing.
"I
thought we had been through the guilt trip Harry. The last thing I
would want right now would be for you to swing down into that
depression stage that you went into after Sirius died." He reached
forward and grabbed Harry's shoulders forcefully. "That is NOT
what he would have wanted. That is NOT what your parents would
have wanted either."
There was a small bout of silence
while Harry tried to keep a controlled face. But a tear still managed
to sneak down his cheek.
"And that is NOT what I
want." Remus relaxed his grip, but kept holding on. "I know I'm
not your parents and I know I'm not Sirius. But Harry, I still love
you...I still want you to be happy...I still want you to find peace
within yourself...I still want you to live your life, JUST-"he
raised his voice as Harry tried to struggled out of his grip. "Just
as much as all three of them."
Harry's eyes burned with
hot tears, a strange realization dawning on his as he stopped
struggling. They had had this conversation many times before, but in
the aftermath of this war, it seemed very different in Harry's
eyes.
Remus was right. He was still there. He was the closest
thing that Harry had to a father. The closest thing that Harry had to
a mentor, to a guardian. He had been there for Harry longer than
anyone, except for maybe Ron and Hermione.
Choking back a
sob, Harry reached forward and fell into Remus' embrace, hugging
him tightly as Remus hugged back.
"Thanks," he said
weakly, pulling back and wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry it
took so long."
Remus managed a smile and just nodded.
"Harry, I want to show you one last thing before we leave,"
he said suddenly as they both noticed that the others were heading
out. "Follow me."
Harry and Remus wound through the
graveyard till they came to a small patch that was cornered off,
separate from the others. Harry hesitated before approaching as he
saw two small gravestones sitting in the middle of it. He had a
feeling he knew whose gravestones they were.
"Remember
Harry, no guilt," Remus said in all seriousness. "I've put off
bringing you here for a long time just for that very reason, but I
think that after what you've just been through, you deserve at
least this much."
Harry cautiously stepped over the
dividing rope that ran around the graves and squinted as he read the
two gravestones:
Lily Potter
Beloved Mother,
Caring Wife and True Friend.
Forever in our hearts.
James
Potter
Dedicated Husband, Loving Father and Faithful friend.
Marauder till the end.
Harry fell to
his knees, his whole body shaking with emotion as he read the
gravestones of his parents. He heard Remus come up behind him and
stand there.
"They'll always be remembered..." he said
with fervor. "Just like you."
"Is that better than them
being here with me now?" Harry said through watery eyes.
"No...but
it does give you a sense of peace that they died doing the right
thing."
"But I didn't die," Harry said, almost
bitter. "I'm still here."
Remus laid a hand on his
shoulder.
"Yes, Harry. You're the boy who lived."
