It was a right pretty place here, he thought. Cool in summer and warm in winter, and the air always smelled sweet. Of course, Professor Sprout tended to everything personally, so the flowers and trees were in full bloom no matter the season. But the best thing was that it was quiet here. Most of the time, anyway. None of the students had the gall to bring their screaming and yelling and bloody bad manners in here.

Of course, only a few people ever came here anymore except during the yearly memorial service. Other than that, well, most people left it alone. Not that he really blamed them. Too many bad memories. But sometimes... Sometimes he'd come into the garden and find a visitor. Some were quiet as a mouse, just sitting and staring. Others wailed like banshees. Either way, he always left right quick and went to do something else.

But most of the time, it was nice and quiet.

Argus Filch stood in front of the bronze plaque set into the large stone in the centre of the garden. The plaque was enchanted, of course, and wouldn't ever tarnish or rust, but the wind kicked up dust and the birds passing overhead didn't always show the proper respect, so he came out here and cleaned it once a day.

He slowly ran a clean cloth over the names engraved there, carefully polishing each one:

Colin Creevey
Albus Dumbledore
Seamus Finnegan
Anthony Goldstein
Rubeus Hagrid
Hermione Granger
Luna Lovegood
Remus Lupin
Alastor Moody
Irma Pince
George Weasley
Ronald Weasley
William Weasley

Argus knew there was another plaque down in the Slytherin dorms, next to the fireplace and hidden behind a glamour. That plaque was kept private. Professor Snape had it installed, but Argus suspected that the Headmistress knew it was there. Not much got past old McGonagall. But Professor Snape was the Deputy Headmaster and he said that it wasn't those kids' fault that some of their family members were Death Eaters and, dear Merlin, weren't all those Pureblood families interrelated? So that plaque stayed, even if it was mostly a secret.

The list of names was shorter there, but that was just because the Death Eaters hadn't hesitated to use the killing curse.

Millicent Bullstrode
Gregory Goyle
Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Draco Malfoy
Blaise Zabini

The rest of the Death Eaters had been packed off to Azkaban and some of them had already died there. Even without the Dementors, Azkaban was a hard place, but he supposed it wasn't anything more than they deserved.

The only name not on any of the plaques was Tom Riddle. When one of the little snakes had asked, Professor Snape had spat on the ground and said that Riddle didn't deserve to be mourned or to be on any plaque. Nobody asked again.

There was a soft scuffling sound and Argus looked up in time to see Harry Potter enter the garden. It might have been ten years gone, but Argus recognised him quick enough. Well, now, wasn't that a surprise? He didn't think that The Boy Who Lived would ever come back here. As far as Argus knew, Potter had never been to the garden at all. He'd heard that Potter had walked away from that last battle and kept right on walking, straight out of the Wizarding World. Neville and Ginny Longbottom were with him. Argus saw those two often enough, they came by fairly regular to leave flowers or to just sit on one of the little marble benches and look at the plaque. Sometimes they brought their kids. It was fitting enough, Argus supposed, since they'd named them Ronald and Hermione.

Potter had his eyes fixed on that plaque like there wasn't anything else in the world that existed, and Argus stepped back to give them their privacy. As Argus silently left the garden, he heard an anguished keening and glanced back in time to see Potter drop to his knees and Ginny Longbottom bend down to stroke his hair. Neville shot him a look of pure gratitude as Argus closed the gate and the silencing spell took over.

And then it was nice and quiet again.

He'd come back later to polish the plaque.


Author's Notes: This was a result of a challenge issued on LiveJournal's 30minutefics community which had the following directions: "Write an epilogue to the books, letting the readers know where everyone is in their lives ten years after the fall of Voldemort…who lives…who dies? It's all in your hands."