A lone figure could be seen walking though a graveyard. After walking for sometime, the figure stopped in front of a grave that read
'As long as there are those that are loyal to us,
The ones we love never really leave.'
The epitaph belonged to the late Albus Dumbledore, who died during the second war. The figure standing above this once great man's grave was of none other than Harry Potter. With him he carried a small bundle wrapped in Christmas paper.
Now one might think that carrying around a Christmas present for a dead man in the middle of July was a bit sketchy, but to Harry it made the most sense. He had decided to give his beloved professor the present that he had always wanted. Socks.
Again one might think that the idea of giving socks to such a great and powerful wizard would not be appreciated. But Harry knew better. He remembered that fateful conversation that took place before the mirror of Erised.
Harry placed the bundle next to the dozens of wilting bouquets already there.
"I know that this is a bit late Professor, but better late then never right?" Harry said to the surrounding air. He looked over to his three friends standing by. Ron's head was down and his arm was around Hermione's shoulders. She was leaning against him, head buried in his neck. Ginny stood next to the pair, head up as always, tears rolling down her face.
Harry stood up, shaking off some of the dirt that had gathered on his knees, and walked over to the trio. He slung an arm around Ginny's shoulders, who then leaned into his half embrace thankfully. The quartet walked from the graveyard leaving behind the socks and their headmaster.