Disclaimer: Still applies.
Author's Note: This took an embarrassing amount of time for me to get posted. But, on the bright side, it's longer than any of the earlier chapters. I hope you like it.
Thank you! to all my reviewers, of last chapter and those before it. Don't forget to review this time, and tell me what you think!
o.o.o.o
The Weasleys' Longest Day
It had been over a day since Ginny had discovered the disappearance, and everyone was still in shock. The adults were all finding it incredibly hard to speak to the three young students, but it didn't really matter, as nobody wanted to talk or had anything to say, anyway.
Because Harry's body had disappeared, they couldn't hold a funeral for him after all, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny were allowed to go to the memorial, which they'd previously been forbidden to attend, the adults having cited that it was too public an event for people so much in the temporary spotlight to be safe at. Still, it wasn't something they were enthusiastic about.
Ron sat in the living room, trying to fidget while not wrinkling his new black dress robes. Next to him on the sofa was Hermione, clutching his left hand in both of hers and staring blankly at her lap. She, too, was wearing fresh black dress robes. Fred and George stood against the wall behind them, uncharacteristically solemn, almost like a pair of black-clad bodyguards.
They were all waiting for ten o'clock, when they would leave for where the memorial was being held.
Ginny wasn't down yet, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen with Bill and Charlie. Dumbledore and Remus were going to meet them at the memorial. None of them were looking forward to it.
As soon as it had been decided that the students would be present at the memorial, Dumbledore had asked both Ron and Hermione -- as those who knew him best -- to give speeches about Harry. The two were discussing this quietly as they waited.
'I think we should,' Hermione urged hollowly.
Ron looked at her closely, consideringly. He saw something in her profile that he didn't seem to like, and sighed. 'Are we up to that, Hermione?'
'Ron...' Hermione finally lifted her eyes from her lap, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. 'He deserves it, deserves this. He deserves a lot more than that, a lot more than he's getting. But he definitely deserves this. We should do it, not for Dumbledore, not for anyone else. We should do it for Harry.'
Ron was silent for so long, Hermione began to think he wasn't going to respond. He just sat there, watching her so seriously, it made her nervous. Then his cheeks got suspiciously damp. He looked quickly away and swallowed. 'Yeah. Okay. For Harry,' murmured Ron, thickly. 'But... we should do it together.'
'Together?' Hermione queried, blinking.
Ron nodded, extracting his left hand from Hermione's to run it through his hair. 'Yeah.'
'Just give one speech, you mean? The both of us at once?' she pressed, thoughtful. Again, Ron nodded. Hermione bit her lip, smiling a little. 'That would be perfect, Ronald.'
As she said it, her voice was so sincere, so... loving, that for a moment he forgot to breath, instead turning his head back round to look at her. The eyes looking back at him were large and over-bright, but they held within them the same sincerity, the same affection as her voice. He decided that maybe he didn't need to breath.
For a second or two, Ron and Hermione forgot about the rest of the world and almost forgot about Harry. For one beautiful moment, there was nothing but them, and that unexplained emotion in Hermione's eyes that Ron suddenly didn't think he could ever live without.
The door opening, so softly they barely heard it, broke the spell, and they looked away from each other to see Ginny drifting in like a ghost. She was wearing new black dress robes, just like all the other occupants of the room. Everyone's wearing black today, Hermione thought. The world's black.
Fred and George glanced up from a whispered conversation, that seemed to take place in each other's eyes as much as it did in words, to focus worriedly on their little sister. Though she wasn't the only one looking sad in her crisp black suit of mourning, she looked somehow more sorrowful than anyone else in the room.
'Hey, Ginny,' Hermione called softly, and Ginny wafted over to join them on the sofa.
Ron put his right arm around his sister comfortingly. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed heavily. 'You ready for this?' he asked, for something to say.
A tear slid from the girl's red-rimmed eye to hang, quivering, from the end of her pale chin. 'How can you ask that? I'm never going to be ready for this.'
Ron cringed, feeling stupid for his callous question. On his other side, Hermione looked very close to shedding a tear or two herself. She reached across him to clasp one of Ginny's hands.
'I don't think any of us ever will be,' agreed the older girl, fighting back a sob. Ron looked up at the ceiling, his vision swimming as he tried not to give into the tears that he knew he shouldn't feel ashamed of, but did anyway.
They sat that way, the three of them, with the Twins lurking in the background, until Charlie stuck his head through the door.
'Time to leave.'
o.o.o.o
'So,' mumbled Regulus uncomfortably, trudging alongside his brother. 'Why are you so sure this is going to work?'
'What?' asked Sirius, not taking his eyes off the ever-changing but always dreary landscape.
'What makes you think you can get out?' clarified the younger, dead Black. He looked faintly amused that his brother hadn't understood him the first time.
Sirius darted his eyes to Regulus and replied simply, 'James told me I could.'
o.o.o.o
'I can't do this,' Remus Lupin moaned, holding his head in his hands. 'I can't do this, Albus.'
The Headmaster of Hogwarts watched the werewolf sympathetically from behind his desk. 'You can, Remus.'
'No, I can't!' Slouching further into his seat, Remus dug his fingers into his hair. 'I can't. I can't go to this memorial. I can't.'
'I rather hate to say it, Remus,' sighed Dumbledore sadly, 'but, with Wormtail a traitor and Sirius dead... you are the last. You can, you must go today.'
Remus choked on a sob.
'Harry should have someone to represent his parents at the memorial,' Dumbledore added imploringly. 'You owe it to Lily, James and Sirius.'
'Let Molly and Arthur stand for his parents,' suggested Remus brokenly. 'I can't.'
'The Weasleys loved Harry, but they didn't know his family, as you did.' Dumbledore's voice was uneven as he added, 'You must be present, Remus. Think of Harry.'
'I am thinking of Harry, damn it!' Remus snapped, storming from his chair to pace the room angrily. Albus stared at him closely, until he seemed to have exhausted most of his sudden burst of energy.
'Remus, please.'
Remus halted. His hands were held tightly in fists at his side, his jaw clenched. After a brief moment of internal debate, all the fight drained out of him and he collapsed back into his chair. With great effort, he managed to give Dumbledore a curt nod.
o.o.o.o
Though the service didn't officially start until eleven o'clock, there was already a large crowd gathered outside the Dante Bros. Wizarding Funeral Home and Memorial Center (Est. 1404, Tenth Generation of Dante Management) when the Weasleys arrived. Every single person appeared to be dressed in nothing but black.
'I want to go home,' declared Ginny quietly, the moment they set foot on the plush, somber carpet in the foyer.
'Me too,' agreed a voice, coming from the darkest corner. Looking closely, Hermione could barely make out the form of Remus Lupin, sitting all alone on a plush bench against the wall. For some reason, the lonely picture he made caused her throat to constrict, and she had to turn away.
'Where's Albus?' Molly asked him, attempting to ignore the exchange that had just taken place. A door opened and the Headmaster entered.
'Right here, Molly.'
'Oh, good.' She fluttered her hands nervously, looking around at her brood. 'Is... is everything all set up, then?'
Dumbledore nodded readily, his lined face impassive. 'Almost, yes.'
'Good. Good.'
The aged Headmaster smiled slightly. 'Arthur, why don't you and Molly go sit down?' he suggested pleasantly, his blue eyes twinkling just the tiniest bit behind his half-moon spectacles. 'The reserved seats are in the front, just by the podium.'
Arthur had a hand around his wife's waist, and started to gently guide her further into the building. 'All right. We've just got to put his picture down, and then we'll set the family's pillars with the others, first.'
'That will do.' Dumbledore nodded to the couple as they left the room, then returned his gaze to the others gathered in the hall. 'Bill, Charlie, if I might have a word later, before the service begins? Thank you. Please wait through there --' he pointed toward an understated dark wood door, '-- in the reception room. I believe you will find Nymphadora and Alastor there already.'
The two eldest Weasley children slipped through the door without a word.
'Sir?' said Fred, glancing after his older brothers. 'What about...'
'Yes, you may join them if you wish,' Dumbledore answered the unfinished question, again with a slight smile. Cracking weary grins, the Twins disappeared before he could change his mind.
'Let's see, that leaves us... Ah, Miss Weasley. I seem to have overlooked you for a moment there.' His eyes still twinkled as he inspected her serenely. He held out his hand, there was a bag of lemon drops in it. She took one reflexively, but knew that the sweet wasn't what he'd been talking about, as he hadn't offered them to anyone else. 'You seem rather paler this morning. But I suppose that's to be expected isn't it?'
Dumbledore obviously wasn't looking for an answer. He patted Ginny affectionately on the head -- she felt a soothing calmness wash through her, and for the first time in a week did not feel like weeping -- but turned toward her brother in a very businesslike way, and didn't really spare her another look. Remus, still in the corner, notice the more relaxed expression on the youngest Weasley's face, and sighed knowingly. Trust Dumbledore...
'The speakers,' explained Dumbledore slowly, to Ron and Hermione, 'are all to sit on the podium with me. I've taken the liberty of having chairs placed for the two of you there, if you agree...?'
Ron licked his lips, squeezed Hermione's hand, and nodded. 'We've decided we will, sir. If we can go at the same time, of course,' he stated respectfully.
The old man positively beamed. 'That would be wonderful, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. Now, if you could go on in -- and you as well, Remus -- I believe I need to speak with some persons about something quite important. You'll excuse me, please.'
o.o.o.o
'Please,' begged the young man, kneeling pleadingly at his mentor's feet. 'Let me go. I won't stay long, and I won't do anything, I promise. Only let me go.'
'Lad...' The old man heaved a tremendous sigh disproportionate to his spindly body. He steepled his hands in front of his face and rested his lips against the tips of his fingers. At another desperate look from his student, he added pensively, 'What if you're seen? It could ruin--'
'I won't be!' the black-haired lad assured him. 'I'll keep my Invisibility Charm up the whole time -- Or go as the dove! Only please, I've got to go.'
'You know, don't you, that if you blow your cover, it's the end, lad,' remarked the old man. The younger man, though preoccupied, knew his mentor well enough to recognize the acquiescence in those carefully phrased words.
His face lit up, his bright green eyes giving the incredibly pale face a decidedly eery look. 'Thank you, Cain!'
o.o.o.o
It was half-past ten o'clock, and the doors had been opened to the public for Harry James Potter's memorial service, set to begin in thirty minutes' time. The speakers were watching the main room of the Memorial Center fill up with people, most of whom had never met Harry at all.
Remus sat next to Ron and Hermione on the podium, looking morose. 'So,' he began out of the corner of his mouth, 'he talked you two into it, as well, did he?' Hermione shook her head.
'We talked ourselves into it,' Ron answered, his voice was low, to ensure that none of the crowd heard him.
Remus turned around in his chair to stare at the both of them. His expression was sadder than ever, and when he spoke he sounded almost ashamed of himself. 'Then you're better friends to Harry than I am.'
o.o.o.o
'Go, Nagini. Follow Bella, and do exactly asss I've told you. Only the woman -- leave the man and the fat one. Bella will make sssure they give you no trouble.' The Dark Lord's snake slithered out of the room in the wake of his most trusted follower, and he smiled.
Voldemort looked much too pleased with himself.
o.o.o.o
Eleven o'clock rolled around, and the hall was full, with an unbelievably great number of people still queued up outside the Dante Brothers' establishment. The small contingent of reporters that had been allowed in, were being kept in the back by Ministry officials. Aurors had been stationed on both sides of all exits, including windows. There were two mini-shrines set up in Harry's honour -- the main one in an alcove by the doors into the hall, and a smaller one against the front of the speakers' podium.
A bell tolled somewhere, and the hall went silent.
A man in an extremely tall, pointed black hat began the ceremony with the traditional wizards' mourning address, then read some of the details of Harry's life from a roll of parchment. When he sat down, the real speakers began.
The first speaker was a large woman from the Ministry. She was either honestly sorry about Harry's death, or doing a very impressive job acting it. 'I never personally met Harry Potter, in anything remotely resembling a social situation, though I know quite a few people who did; I only encountered Harry once, at a Ministry hearing where he was being accused of underage magic and threatened with expulsion from his school. The main spell, which he performed in defense of himself and his cousin, was impressive. More impressive than I can say, due to his past use of it.
'It was the Patronus Charm, and with it Harry managed to produce a corporeal Patronus -- which he had once used to completely drive off over one hundred dementors. At that time, he was 13, defending his friends... and an escaped mass murderer.
'This was not the only astounding act of magic and courage that Potter has ever displayed. The entirety of his Hogwarts career was marked by such things. And just this last term, young Potter received the best O.W.L. score for the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts in almost a century and a half.
'What I guess I'm trying to say is... there is no way to say how much of a loss Harry's death is to our magical community as a whole, and to every single living witch and wizard, personally.
'Harry Potter was one of those few, special individuals that are born true heroes. He will be missed, even by those who, like myself, did not have the honour of knowing him.'
The rest of the hall remained silent as the woman concluded and returned to her seat. Ron could see his mother crying.
Several people, none of whom had known Harry, took their turns. Then Dumbledore got up to speak. His face was pale, his expression drawn, and his voice deeply saddened.
'Some have said, quite rightly, that Harry Potter was perhaps my favorite student of them all. But many who said it would not understand why Harry deserved, and had, this privilege. And that is because they had not met Harry during his life.
'Though he was only an average student in most subjects, Harry stood out as a passionate, caring individual, to those that knew how to read him.
'He was an amazing person, or would have become one when he reached adulthood, no matter which aspect of his life and personality you look at. Born with a capacity to care for people that I have never seen rivaled; gifted with impressive skill on the Quidditch pitch; possessed of an incredible grasp for his favorite subject, Defense Against the Dark Arts; and full of such a great deal of magical potential that it was staggering.
'He was an inspirational figure to many of his classmates, but he never thought of himself as such. And to the last, Harry was a humble, giving, self-deprecating young man.'
With brief moment of silence to allow the public to absorb this, Dumbledore went on, seemingly changing veins, 'I knew Harry's parents well. I was Headmaster when they attended school, and kept in touch with them afterwards. Lily and James Potter I respected and cared for, until their deaths, as a teacher respects and cares for the former students with whom he was close. But their son...
'For the past few years, I have respected, cared for, and admired Harry Potter as a young man who would someday have become my equal.
'I will not speak of how much Harry's demise affects us all, nor of his probable feelings toward his own death -- for, as I have long said, death is merely the greatest adventure any of us will ever embark upon. And Harry was always fond of a good adventure.'
As Dumbledore stepped down to return to his seat, a tear trickled from his eye, into his long silver beard. He did not bother to wipe it away.
Ron and Hermione realised that it was their turn, and they stood slowly. But once they reached the speaker's stand... They found that they could not, at first, speak at all.
At length, when a low mutter of voices had started to break out in the crowded hall, Ron cleared his throat, and Hermione spoke.
'Ron and I have known Harry better than anyone in the past five years of his life. We were the first true friends he ever had, and I like to think that we were the dearest to his heart of anyone.' She stopped to take a breath, and Ron took his turn.
'I met Harry on our first train ride to Hogwarts. Since then, we've had disagreements and fights, just as all friends do, but we never gave up on each other, or Hermione -- and Hermione never gave up on us. I will never miss him more than I do right now, and... I miss him so much, it feels like my heart is empty.'
'Harry has always been an exceptional person--' Hermione said, wringing her hands together. Ron interrupted her to add, 'And even in death, he's still exceptional.'
Hermione gave him a glowing look. Ron found his brain wandering to somewhere it wasn't used to being. He cleared his throat loudly. Half-smiling, Hermione continued, 'My best friend, while he lived, was possibly the most loyal person I ever met. And probably, will ever meet. Even when he was angry with and not speaking to those of us who were lucky enough to hold his loyalty, Harry would never shirk from an opportunity to defend us and stand up for us.'
'Now, I'm just a simple young wizard, and I'm not very good with words and speeches and things, I know that. But I also know... or rather, knew... Harry,' stated Ron, choking on the last few words. But he managed to semi-compose himself surprisingly quickly. 'A lot of people, including Hermione and myself, have listed various things about Harry, and made a big fuss over many of his better qualities. But the best, and most potent, of those qualities, was without a doubt, Love. He never talked about his feelings, but he showed them in his own way. I hope that some day, I can be like him in that...' He swallowed and stopped. Abruptly, he turned and jumped down from the podium. He sprinted down the center aisle to the double doors. Everyone he passed was too startled to stop him.
Hermione started to cry.
'I don't think we've got anything else to say,' she muttered, before chasing after Ron.
o.o.o.o
Smirking smugly, Bellatrix strode from the ordinary Muggle home in the ordinary Muggle neighborhood. She stopped outside the house and pointed her wand at the sky. 'Morsmordre!' she said confidently. The jet of sparks reflected green off of the shiny brass #4 next to the door.
Laughing, she picked up the large snake at her feet and draped it around her neck, then disapparated.
o.o.o.o
Finally Remus, the last speaker, stood.
'As the last of their school friends remaining, I'm supposed to talk about Lily and James, and how proud they would have been of Harry, were they here. But I can't. I can't speak about them, or about Harry.'
Remus looked around the room slowly, meeting the eyes of as many people as he could in a few short moments. He continued just as solemnly as he'd begun, 'People tell you that losing gets easier, after time, but it really doesn't. See, in various ways, to various things, I've lost all of my closest friends -- some more than once -- and now I've lost the last link to those friends. I've lost too much to talk about them.'
'I've lost... too much,' he whispered, wiping his eyes with the handkerchief he'd been holding since the beginning of the service. It didn't stem the flow, as it hadn't all the other times he'd used it.
'I will miss Harry. Just as I miss his parents, and the others that I've lost. Perhaps more, because I lost him after I lost everyone else. But the amount isn't what counts. It's the feelings that create it.'
Once again, Remus surveyed the room with his eyes. 'In conclusion, I have only to say that anyone, anyone, who doesn't miss Harry Potter -- the person, not the icon people have turned him into -- is a damn fool.'
When he finished, there was a deep, pervading silence, such as had followed no other person's words. Then from somewhere, came a soft clap, which gradually built up into a standing ovation for Remus, the rest of the speakers, and mostly, for Harry Potter himself.
o.o.o.o
The innocent-looking dove sitting next to one of the windows, which it had inconspicuously opened a crack earlier in the day, ruffled its feathers in an embarrassed sort of way. Shaking it's odd little head, the bird hopped back a little, and took off into the deepening blue of the afternoon sky.
o.o.o.o
With the conclusion of the ceremony, Dumbledore had barely began to answer the reporters' questions, when a young woman rushed in. She hesitated just inside the door, then sprinted all the way across the room to where the Headmaster stood.
'Sir,' she gasped out, her voice lifted above the noise of the crowd. 'Sir, it's been spotted, in Surrey. The Dark Mark. Over the house of those Muggles, the ones Potter lived with.'
'Oh... no...' cried Molly, who had just returned from looking for Ron and Hermione, both of which she was shepherding into the room ahead of her. The two, embarrassed teenagers were standing as far apart as possible while being next to each other, blushing and not looking at each other. They didn't seem to be paying attention to what was going on around them.
'When?' demanded Dumbledore urgently, all of his attention fixed on the witch. 'Who saw it?'
'Arabella Figg, sir,' she explained, nervous. 'She said she was just coming home from her shopping an-and she saw... it just floating-- there. Floating there. Sir.'
Dumbledore nodded understandingly. 'I see. Is the Ministry aware of this? Have you notified them?'
'No,' she said with a shake of her head. 'Arabella did, though, I think -- I came straight here.'
'Thank you, Miss Walterson,' murmured Dumbledore. He turned around and took charge of the situation, saying to the press, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm afraid that I shall have to postpone our little conference. You may contact me tomorrow, if you wish. Now, if you'd please leave us, I have some business to take care of.'
As soon as the door closed behind the reporters, the Headmaster began giving out rapid-fire orders.
'Tonks, get to the Ministry and make sure they're aware of this. Then go to Headquarters and stay there. Alastor, Remus, Bill, I want you at Arabella's, as quickly as possible. Stay out of sight, and don't get in the Ministry's way, but make sure you know what's going on. Charlie --'
'Why don't I take the children home, Albus?' Molly cut in quickly, already looking around for Ginny.
Dumbledore looked at her for a moment. 'Ah, yes, an excellent idea. Now, if you would -- Here, this Portkey will take you back to Headquarters.'
Molly snatched it up immediately and thrust it into the hands of the three young teenagers. Before they could protest, they were all whirling away to Grimmauld Place, apparently to be kept in the dark... As usual.
o.o.o.o
'You have done well, Bella,' purred Voldemort from his seat, still looking much too pleased with himself. 'You make a good partner for Nagini. I must look into pairing you together again.'