Requiem Rest
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine;/ Grant them eternal rest, lord;
et lux perpetuam luceat eis. / and let perpetual light shine upon them.
Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion, / A hymn befits Thee, O God, in Zion;
et tibi reddetur votum in Ierusalem. / and to Thee shall be paid a vow in Jerusalem.
Exaudi orationem meam; / Hear my prayer,
ad te omnis caro veniet. / to Thee all flesh shall come.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine; / Grant them eternal rest, lord
et lux perpetuam luceat eis. / and let perpetual light shine upon them
~~~
Black candles burned in the Great Hall. Even the Slytherin table showed some remorse for the loss of Harry Potter, more than they had for Cedric Diggory. Draco steered a wide berth around any Gryffindors he saw and especially avoided Ron and Hermione. Whether this was out of respect or fear that he'd get the snot cursed out of him by every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Huffelpuff, it was hard to say. Perhaps it was because it was now evident that Harry Potter wasn't invincible after all. He was just as human as anyone. And if Harry Potter could die.... perhaps it had a sobering affect on him.
Quidditch would have been Ron's escape, except it reminded him of Harry. He couldn't look at a snitch without his eyes burning, his face turning red, and a lump forming in his throat. It was alright by him that all Quidditch games had been canceled for the rest of the year. The stadium had been hung with black banners emblazoned with the words, "Harry James Potter - 1981- 1998"
The DA continued on with some normalcy (Hermione and Ron both agreed that Harry would have wanted it that way.) even if the lessons usually dissolved into tearful remenisces.
Dobby proclaimed that Harry Potter was the best master he never had. ---
Ron reached over and slammed Hermione's book shut, "What the hell do you think you're doing Hermione?"
"NEWTs. I'm studying for NEWTs." She turned her back on Ron and buried her nose in the potions book she was studying from, " You should be too, they're coming up in under a month"
Ron just looked at the back of her head, "How can you bloody care about NEWTs when... after...after what happened...." He fell silent, "It's disrespectful is what it is." Hermione slammed the book shut with a snap.
"Disrespectful?" When she turned, her face was nearly as red as Ron's hair, "How can you say that? Do you really think I do this because I don't miss Harry?" Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Ron realized she looked as though she hadn't slept in weeks, "Do you think I do this because I like studying? I do this because I -have- to do this. Harry wouldn't want ... he wouldn't....."
"Alright, Hermione, alright..." This wasn't the first time they'd had similar conversations. "I'll get right to studying for NEWTS." He conceded as a sort of apology. He poked at his ham and eggs, pushing them around the plate. Hermione laid her note book flat on the table and he noticed that the ink had run in several places where tears streaked the page.
Neville staggered into the Great Hall and slipped into a place across from Hermione and Ron. They immediately stopped talking about Harry.
"Hello Neville." Ron said weakly.
"Hi."
"Nice day huh?"
"Yeah." Neville looked up at the enchanted ceiling, but saw the black candles and looked down at the table again. "Yeah, nice day." He put his head down on the table and stared off into space. If Hermione looked as though she hadn't slept in a week, Neville really hadn't. Ron woke up the night after the battle and Neville was crying in his dreams, saying things like, "It should have been me....It should have been me...." and "No! Harry don't!" "Harry!" A minute later, he'd woken up the whole seventh year boy dorms with his night terrors. They continued to occur ever since. Neville was now afraid of going to sleep, for fear that the whole gruesome night would continue to replay itself again and again.
The owls came through the window with the morning mail. Ron, Neville and Hermione watched Hedwig fly to the head table to where Dumbledore sat waiting. She was holding a letter addressed to the Dursley's. It had come back, unopened... again. Any attempt Dumbledore made to contact them had failed miserably. Ron imagined that the Dursleys refused to answer owl mail on principle. They still didn't know about what happened to Harry. Dumbledore would have to pay a visit to them, but he didn't feel safe leaving the students unguarded.
The spirit of the free wizarding world had perished along with Harry, Voldemort now had the weapon of fear. The weapon that had carried him to power in his first reign of terror. But now it was ever so much stronger. He had killed the good, great, famous, invincible, Harry Potter: The Savior of the Wizarding World. People fell like houses of cards under his control. The name of Voldemort had become even more taboo than it had been before. Even You-Know-Who, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were both considered almost as bad as Voldemort. People now just gave a look, and everyone knew who they were talking about.
Some refused to believe Harry was dead, and the Ministry did nothing to quash this belief. After all, there was no body, no hard evidence. Just the eyewitness reports of a group of vigilante wizards (that would be the Order of the Phoenix) Potter sightings become rampant. People were desperate to believe the boy wonder was still alive and regrouping his fight against the dark lord. The Daily Prophet opened a column just for Potter sightings. Other newspapers followed suit. Surprisingly, the Quibbler was not one of them. The Lovegoods ran a special issue dedicated to Harry, which really amounted to a very long obituary detailing Harry's remarkable life, eulogies from friends and acquaintances, and articles on how to protect yourself against Voldemort and the Dark Arts
In a private ceremony, Harry was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, first class- for selfless actions against... (the look) and his followers. The medal was given to Dumbledore for safe keeping until the time he was able to visit the Dursleys and tell them the terrible news. This made Ron remember something he'd nearly forgotten.
---
"Ron, I want to show you something." Harry said quietly, Ron turned over in his bed in the hospital wing to face Harry. It was the night after the events at the Department of Mysteries in Harry's fifth year. The night Voldemort had made his presence known to the wizard world, and they were all recuperating from their escapade. Ron could hear Hermione's steady breathing in the bed opposite them. The moonbeams fell onto Harry's bed, causing it to look like it was glowing of it's own accord. Harry was sitting up in bed, his glasses on, ink on the nightstand, and quill feather in his mouth as a look of tense concentration molded his features. Finally he finished writing and waved the peice of parchment in the air to dry the ink. Then he handed it to Ron.
The moonbeam wasn't over Ron's bed, so he had a harder time reading it. Tediously he figured it out word by word. 'I.... Harry Potter......being....of ..... sound... mind....and..."
Ron blanched, "What did you write this for?"
"In case anything ever happens to me."
"Don't be a prat, Harry, you've got plenty of time to think about this. Like when you're old and have a wife and kids... and-"
"Oh do be serious Ron. I can't plan like a normal person. I'm not normal, I've got a dangerous dark wizard after my blood. So far I've been lucky... very lucky. Eventually my luck will run out. Just like Sirius'" Harry added under his breath.
"Luck has nothing to do with it. Do you think You-Know- oh alright, Voldemort's going to be able to take you? He's already cursed you once, and it backfired. He won't be able to do it again."
"The Killing Curse isn't the only way to kill someone. And I'm probably not invulnerable to that curse anyway."
"Look, what it boils down to is this: you're Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. You've faced the unblockable curse and lived. It's all us normal folks who should worry...not you. Get some sleep Harry."
"I'm giving it to Dumbledore tomorrow. I'm making him executor."
"You're being morbid."
"I'm being practical. And I'm giving you a copy for safe keeping, and one for Hermione too."
"I won't take it."
"Don't be an arse."
"You're the one who's being an arse."
"I am n-" Just then, Neville snorted in his sleep. Ron glanced nervously at the door.
"I don't want to talk about this now," Ron said flatly, "Get some sleep."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Bloody moonbeam," Harry muttered, trying to find a position where it wasn't in his face.
Harry never said another word about the will.
----
"Hermione?" Ron asked at the reception for the Order of Merlin ceremony.
"Yes?" She'd been quiet for sometime, lost somewhere between thought and memory.
"Do you remember fifth year, after we'd gone to the Department of Mysteries?"
"I don't think I could forget that very easily."
"I know.... but after that, did he...did Harry ever give you ...." He was trying to figure out how to say the word Will without saying the word Will, when Hermione's hands flew to her mouth.
"The Will! I'd forgotten all about it!" This fresh thought of Harry brought more tears to her eyes. The question of Harry's belongings hadn't yet been an issue in the wizarding world, as one half was still digesting the fact that Harry was dead, and the other half was stubbornly denying that he had died at all.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine;/ Grant them eternal rest, lord;
et lux perpetuam luceat eis. / and let perpetual light shine upon them.
Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion, / A hymn befits Thee, O God, in Zion;
et tibi reddetur votum in Ierusalem. / and to Thee shall be paid a vow in Jerusalem.
Exaudi orationem meam; / Hear my prayer,
ad te omnis caro veniet. / to Thee all flesh shall come.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine; / Grant them eternal rest, lord
et lux perpetuam luceat eis. / and let perpetual light shine upon them
~~~
Black candles burned in the Great Hall. Even the Slytherin table showed some remorse for the loss of Harry Potter, more than they had for Cedric Diggory. Draco steered a wide berth around any Gryffindors he saw and especially avoided Ron and Hermione. Whether this was out of respect or fear that he'd get the snot cursed out of him by every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Huffelpuff, it was hard to say. Perhaps it was because it was now evident that Harry Potter wasn't invincible after all. He was just as human as anyone. And if Harry Potter could die.... perhaps it had a sobering affect on him.
Quidditch would have been Ron's escape, except it reminded him of Harry. He couldn't look at a snitch without his eyes burning, his face turning red, and a lump forming in his throat. It was alright by him that all Quidditch games had been canceled for the rest of the year. The stadium had been hung with black banners emblazoned with the words, "Harry James Potter - 1981- 1998"
The DA continued on with some normalcy (Hermione and Ron both agreed that Harry would have wanted it that way.) even if the lessons usually dissolved into tearful remenisces.
Dobby proclaimed that Harry Potter was the best master he never had. ---
Ron reached over and slammed Hermione's book shut, "What the hell do you think you're doing Hermione?"
"NEWTs. I'm studying for NEWTs." She turned her back on Ron and buried her nose in the potions book she was studying from, " You should be too, they're coming up in under a month"
Ron just looked at the back of her head, "How can you bloody care about NEWTs when... after...after what happened...." He fell silent, "It's disrespectful is what it is." Hermione slammed the book shut with a snap.
"Disrespectful?" When she turned, her face was nearly as red as Ron's hair, "How can you say that? Do you really think I do this because I don't miss Harry?" Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Ron realized she looked as though she hadn't slept in weeks, "Do you think I do this because I like studying? I do this because I -have- to do this. Harry wouldn't want ... he wouldn't....."
"Alright, Hermione, alright..." This wasn't the first time they'd had similar conversations. "I'll get right to studying for NEWTS." He conceded as a sort of apology. He poked at his ham and eggs, pushing them around the plate. Hermione laid her note book flat on the table and he noticed that the ink had run in several places where tears streaked the page.
Neville staggered into the Great Hall and slipped into a place across from Hermione and Ron. They immediately stopped talking about Harry.
"Hello Neville." Ron said weakly.
"Hi."
"Nice day huh?"
"Yeah." Neville looked up at the enchanted ceiling, but saw the black candles and looked down at the table again. "Yeah, nice day." He put his head down on the table and stared off into space. If Hermione looked as though she hadn't slept in a week, Neville really hadn't. Ron woke up the night after the battle and Neville was crying in his dreams, saying things like, "It should have been me....It should have been me...." and "No! Harry don't!" "Harry!" A minute later, he'd woken up the whole seventh year boy dorms with his night terrors. They continued to occur ever since. Neville was now afraid of going to sleep, for fear that the whole gruesome night would continue to replay itself again and again.
The owls came through the window with the morning mail. Ron, Neville and Hermione watched Hedwig fly to the head table to where Dumbledore sat waiting. She was holding a letter addressed to the Dursley's. It had come back, unopened... again. Any attempt Dumbledore made to contact them had failed miserably. Ron imagined that the Dursleys refused to answer owl mail on principle. They still didn't know about what happened to Harry. Dumbledore would have to pay a visit to them, but he didn't feel safe leaving the students unguarded.
The spirit of the free wizarding world had perished along with Harry, Voldemort now had the weapon of fear. The weapon that had carried him to power in his first reign of terror. But now it was ever so much stronger. He had killed the good, great, famous, invincible, Harry Potter: The Savior of the Wizarding World. People fell like houses of cards under his control. The name of Voldemort had become even more taboo than it had been before. Even You-Know-Who, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were both considered almost as bad as Voldemort. People now just gave a look, and everyone knew who they were talking about.
Some refused to believe Harry was dead, and the Ministry did nothing to quash this belief. After all, there was no body, no hard evidence. Just the eyewitness reports of a group of vigilante wizards (that would be the Order of the Phoenix) Potter sightings become rampant. People were desperate to believe the boy wonder was still alive and regrouping his fight against the dark lord. The Daily Prophet opened a column just for Potter sightings. Other newspapers followed suit. Surprisingly, the Quibbler was not one of them. The Lovegoods ran a special issue dedicated to Harry, which really amounted to a very long obituary detailing Harry's remarkable life, eulogies from friends and acquaintances, and articles on how to protect yourself against Voldemort and the Dark Arts
In a private ceremony, Harry was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, first class- for selfless actions against... (the look) and his followers. The medal was given to Dumbledore for safe keeping until the time he was able to visit the Dursleys and tell them the terrible news. This made Ron remember something he'd nearly forgotten.
---
"Ron, I want to show you something." Harry said quietly, Ron turned over in his bed in the hospital wing to face Harry. It was the night after the events at the Department of Mysteries in Harry's fifth year. The night Voldemort had made his presence known to the wizard world, and they were all recuperating from their escapade. Ron could hear Hermione's steady breathing in the bed opposite them. The moonbeams fell onto Harry's bed, causing it to look like it was glowing of it's own accord. Harry was sitting up in bed, his glasses on, ink on the nightstand, and quill feather in his mouth as a look of tense concentration molded his features. Finally he finished writing and waved the peice of parchment in the air to dry the ink. Then he handed it to Ron.
The moonbeam wasn't over Ron's bed, so he had a harder time reading it. Tediously he figured it out word by word. 'I.... Harry Potter......being....of ..... sound... mind....and..."
Ron blanched, "What did you write this for?"
"In case anything ever happens to me."
"Don't be a prat, Harry, you've got plenty of time to think about this. Like when you're old and have a wife and kids... and-"
"Oh do be serious Ron. I can't plan like a normal person. I'm not normal, I've got a dangerous dark wizard after my blood. So far I've been lucky... very lucky. Eventually my luck will run out. Just like Sirius'" Harry added under his breath.
"Luck has nothing to do with it. Do you think You-Know- oh alright, Voldemort's going to be able to take you? He's already cursed you once, and it backfired. He won't be able to do it again."
"The Killing Curse isn't the only way to kill someone. And I'm probably not invulnerable to that curse anyway."
"Look, what it boils down to is this: you're Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. You've faced the unblockable curse and lived. It's all us normal folks who should worry...not you. Get some sleep Harry."
"I'm giving it to Dumbledore tomorrow. I'm making him executor."
"You're being morbid."
"I'm being practical. And I'm giving you a copy for safe keeping, and one for Hermione too."
"I won't take it."
"Don't be an arse."
"You're the one who's being an arse."
"I am n-" Just then, Neville snorted in his sleep. Ron glanced nervously at the door.
"I don't want to talk about this now," Ron said flatly, "Get some sleep."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Bloody moonbeam," Harry muttered, trying to find a position where it wasn't in his face.
Harry never said another word about the will.
----
"Hermione?" Ron asked at the reception for the Order of Merlin ceremony.
"Yes?" She'd been quiet for sometime, lost somewhere between thought and memory.
"Do you remember fifth year, after we'd gone to the Department of Mysteries?"
"I don't think I could forget that very easily."
"I know.... but after that, did he...did Harry ever give you ...." He was trying to figure out how to say the word Will without saying the word Will, when Hermione's hands flew to her mouth.
"The Will! I'd forgotten all about it!" This fresh thought of Harry brought more tears to her eyes. The question of Harry's belongings hadn't yet been an issue in the wizarding world, as one half was still digesting the fact that Harry was dead, and the other half was stubbornly denying that he had died at all.