Well, here we are at the end of Year Four. From here the boat will start to get rocked, which some probably have been waiting for a while now. Many thanks to those who reviewed, your comments were wonderful and greatly appreciated. please enjoy this albeit short epilogue. ~F

Epilogue

The Pyre

Faykan was dead…

Everywhere Harry went for the next week reminded him that his best friend, the one who he had shared all his adventures, was no more.

He was gone and Harry would never hear his laughter again, never see that grin that left them with no doubt as to why he was a fox animagus, never see the boy who had rescued him from the hole that was his previous life before he knew about magic... He was dead, and it was Voldemort's fault.

Voldemort! The man who had taken everything from Harry: first his parents, his childhood, and now his first and best friend. He hated the man; he hated him like he had never hated anyone else in his life. He would kill him, and his Death Eaters, even if it was indeed the last thing Harry ever did.

Ron, Hermione and Draco had tried their best to console him, but it was no use, there were simple too many memories. Harry spent a lot of time alone in the Room of Requirement, a place he had shared so often with Faykan.

Faykan was dead…

A knife thrust with every thought. Harry had never known the human body could feel so painful. Was this what it was like to have truly loved someone? Harry knew now, he had loved Faykan: first as a friend, then as a brother. Harry didn't know if he could ever learn to feel such happiness again. The thought of summoning a Patronus sickened him.

A knock sounded on the door of the Room of Requirement, which was odd. Normally someone would just walk right in, either Ron, or Hermione, or Draco. Harry crossed to the door to the seventh floor and opened it.

It was Professor Snape.

"Potter," he said quietly, "may I have a few words… about… Faykan…" another stab of pain sounded in Harry's chest, but he nodded and walked back inside. Snape took only a few seconds to examine the room; Harry had summoned the same room they had trained in for two years.

They sat at in the chairs around the table still holding the Palantír, wrapped so tightly in the black cloth that no one could see it, and sitting next to it was the Goblet of Fire, looking innocent after all the trouble it had cause this year.

"Potter… Harry," Snape said after several silent moments, "I'm going to hold a small ceremony for Faykan before I take his… his body away, back to his home." Harry looked confused at the Professor. How did he know about Faykan's home? And for that matter, how did he know that Harry was in here? Snape must have read Harry's expression because he smiled sadly and spoke again, "Draco told me where to find you, and I found the written words of Faykan, revealing his home and removing the Fidelius Charm for me."

Harry nodded, not really caring the reasons. It felt good to have someone who cared as much as he did about Faykan, "Do… do I have to see him…" Harry asked. He wasn't sure if he could bear to see Faykan's body again.

"Not if you don't want to, it'll just be a small gathering of those who knew him best, you, the Weasleys, Granger, Draco, myself, and a few others."

He stood, and patted Harry's shoulder tenderly, "I know it hurts, I know, but it will fade in time. Later rather than sooner, given how close you two were."

"It's alright," Snape said a few silent moments later, "I had figured out your feelings for each other a while before that, and I'll tell you, no matter what he said, he cared about you just as much as you him, if not more."

Snape turned to leave, then turned back, "By the way, Crouch Jr. had this, and I think I'll return it to you, just this once." He handed Harry the Marauder's Map. "Crouch confessed that he saw you leaving the prefect bathroom in rather a hurry, dropping this in your rush. He took it, and had been using it since."

"Thank you Professor." Harry said finally, gazing at the map, in too much pain to register surprise.

"I'll see you at the feast, and the service later then Harry." Snape said, and left.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Albus stood and looked over the mournful people in the Great Hall. The leaving feast had never been so cheerless. "The end," Albus stated, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He lingered on the Gryffindor table, which was by far the quietest, knowing that one of their own was dead.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Albus said, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Gryffindors, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Faykan Undol."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Faykan Undol." Albus raised his own, thinking sorrowfully in his mind, 'to a worthy opponent.'

"Faykan was a boy unlike any other: strong, courageous, loyal to all whom he considered friends, a powerful student magically, and wise beyond his few years. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not, whether you liked him or not," he cast a glance at the Slytherin table, and was pleased to see that even Theodore Nott looked downhearted, "I think you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how he died."

Many heads turned to gape at Albus, teachers included.

"Faykan Undol was murdered, by Lord Voldemort!" Albus declared, uncaring of the panicked whisper that swept the Great Hall. People were staring at him in disbelief, others in horror. He was perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so, either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so because of how young you all are. It is my belief; however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies. And any attempt to pretend that Faykan died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Faykan's death," Albus went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Albus.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "Harry fought alongside Faykan during his last few minutes of life before they attempted to retreat back to Hogwarts. They both showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor Harry."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Faykan's, and drank to him. This time, Albus noticed that many of the Slytherins did not drink.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened, of Lord Voldemort's return, such ties are more important than ever before."

Albus looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrang students at the Slytherin table.

"Every guest in this Hall," Albus said, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all once again, in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united; as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."

"It is my belief, and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken, that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst."

"Remember Faykan. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Faykan Undol."

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Hermione stood with Harry, Ron and Draco as the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons left for their schools. They were all far too miserable to participate with the farewells, knowing that Faykan had been snatched from them by Voldemort. The ceremony provided by Professor Snape had been a tearful affair, and Harry had had to leave before it was finished, so overwhelmed he had become with the finality of his best friend's death.

They avoided everyone who approached them, and barricaded themselves in once compartment for the train ride back to London. Hermione had a copy of the Daily prophet, but there was nothing in it. Fudge was obviously covering the story up.

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said Harry when she had told them all about this fact. "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Hermione in an oddly constrained voice. "As a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about?" said Draco.

"I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," said Hermione.

"How was she doing it?" said Harry at once.

"How did you find out?" said Ron, staring at her.

"Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea. Harry," she said.

"Did I?" said Harry, perplexed. "How?"

"Bugging," said Hermione happily.

"But you said they didn't work…"

"Oh not electronic bugs," said Hermione. "No, you see... Rita Skeeter" her voice trembled with quiet triumph, "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn…"

Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out other bag.

"…into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Ron. "You haven't... she's not..."

"Oh yes she is," said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them. Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.

"That's never, you're kidding…" Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"No, I'm not," said Hermione, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."

They all gaped at the insect, grinning madly at her as Rita fluttered angrily in the jar.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry's anger flared when Nott burst into their compartment, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. "So," he said, in a strange mix of sorrow and triumph, "He's really gone…"

"Get out," said Harry, barley resisting the urge to hex them all into faceless stains on the walls of the compartment.

"I'll let you in on one thing Potter," Nott said, leaning in so only Harry could hear him, "You should have heard him screaming that night during the Yule Ball…"

The compartment exploded. Magic such as Harry had never felt before came in answer to his desire to hurt Nott as much as possible. Wind came to buffer the three Slytherins into walls and each other with great force. Fire flared into life, scorching their robes and skin, while lacerations opened all over their bodies, coating the floor of the compartment with blood. When he was through, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were all blackened, bruised, cut, and burned considerably. Another magical gust formed from nowhere and swept them from the compartment, slamming the door behind their unconscious forms. Draco, Hermione and Ron gaped at him.

"Wow… that was, unexpected…" Ron said.

Harry felt so different. Not stronger or faster, but lighter, more in command of himself. His magic was free, at his full strength, and it was because Faykan had died for him. Harry didn't want to try and explain it; he seized his trunk and Hedwig's cage and focused on Privet Drive. There was a loud, booming crack, and the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube, and he landed in his own bedroom.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Severus stood in awe at the Tower that was once Faykan's home. The boy's body, well preserved by potions and spells, floated in a coffin beside him, his trunk in Severus' hands. The doors creaked open at his touch, revealing two frightened and sorrowful house elves.

"Master is dead?" they asked, terrified as Severus entered. When he nodded, they burst into fresh tears, and led him up through the many rooms to the very pinnacle of the tower. There they summoned a mound of wood and covered it with a thick oil that smelled horrid.

Severus understood immediately. Levitating Faykan's body out of the coffin and upon the pyre, Severus prepared to send the boy on.

"They will look for him from the high towers of Hogwarts…" Severus said, thinking of the boy's friends, "but he will not return from mountain or from sea…"

The wind blew from all directions, and reminded the Potions Master of an ancient song of mourning, one that his mother had taught him so very long ago. "Through Rohan over fen and field, where the long grass grows, the West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes." Severus sang, his voice strained from years of disuse, and his tempo shaky as he struggled to remember the old lyrics.

"What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me toniught? Have you seen Boromir the Tall, by moon or by starlight?" he continued, recalling the ancient name of the long forgotten hero, which stood in his memory as a name for all those who died heroically and tragically.

As if in answer, the wind blew into his face, and seemed to carry the next verse from the depths of his mind. "I saw him ride over seven streams, over wasters wide and grey, I saw him walk in empty lands until he passed away into the shadows of the North, I saw him then no more."

"O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar, but you came not from the empty lands where no men are." Severus was certain that he was forgetting a line, but it felt appropriate nonetheless, and he continued. "From the mouths of the Sea the South Winds flies, from the sandhills and the stones. The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans. What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve? Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve."

The wind brushed his back, and carried Severus' words out over the lands surrounding the massive tower, "Ask me not where he doth dwell – so many bones there lie, on the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky. So many have pass down Anduin to find the flowing Sea. Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!"

Severus could feel the strength of his voice growing once more, the old memories helping him recall the song that he had felt so pointedly throughout his life. "O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south, but you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth."

"From the Gate of the Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls, and clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls," Severus pressed on, recalling the words but forgetting many of the meaning that his mother had surely taught him when he was very young. "What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today? What news of Boromir the bold? For he is long away."

The frosty blast in his face seemed not to whisper the next words, but scream them, "Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought. His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought. His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest. And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast..."

Severus trailed off, his memory failing him for the next verse. He looked down on the casket, imagining the peaceful form of the boy within that he had bickered, fought, and argued with; the boy that he had eventually grown to respect and even like on a personal level. Severus felt ashamed that it had taken so long, and came so very late in the boy's abruptly cut life.

There was nothing more that Severus could do for him, and he raised his wand.

"Incendio!" Severus said, as his first tear in thirteen years slipped down his face.

End of Year Four…

Potential Spoilers Ahead, You have been Warned!

A few minor changes to the epilogue here. a small attempt was made to inject some true remorse into Albus' speech, but I feel there wasn't enough time to fully convey what he's personally feeling, so there will be more of that in the next volume. additionally, Severus' song, which is the Lament for Boromir from Fellowship. the mournful melody I had in my mind fit, even if all the lyrics did not fully, but I still feel it more than applies to how Faykan had acted in the story until this point. but I would love to hear your thoughts over whether the inclusion of this, or any of the previous songs, felt right or out of place? I've noticed that I use fanfiction as the testing grounds for many literary ideas that I wish to incorporate into original works, so any and all feedback is desirous and welcome to help refine my voice narratively. until next time! ~F