A/N: This is the final chapter. I know I thought I would do twenty, but I thought that fifteen seemed more that sufficient. And also, I've been waiting to write this chapter since I began writing the first one. PLEASE REVIEW! I think I might be the only person to ever write a fifteen chapter story and not get one review. I'd love to know your favorite chapters and everything else. I hope you all have enjoyed. I certainly have. Hope you enjoy this final chapter. It's kind of a tribute to everything that Harry Potter has given to us over these last ten years, and I thought it would be a great way to end the collection. Happy reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

July the twenty-first. The day when wizards and witches all around the world will mourn and rejoice, cry tears of both happiness and sorrow. For the journey has finally ended.

All will celebrate the fall of Lord Voldemort. But the happiness has been punctured by a loss of immeasurable greatness. Harry Potter, our hero, our friend, has been lost.

He was a great man. He led a great life, even if his life did seem too short. He changed the world. And he will never be forgotten.

The memorial service was to take place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter's home. The place where everything started and the place where it all ended.

It was a gray Saturday morning with undecided weather. The morning was plagued with light drizzles, landing halfheartedly on the dewy grounds, followed by bursts of patches of bright sunlight, making the fallen rain sparkle dazzlingly. But the funeral was to take place outside, no matter what the weather finally decided to do. It was something that would not be questioned. It was what should be done.

So the admirers and friends of Harry Potter filed out onto the lush green grounds of Hogwarts School to sit in the rows and rows of chairs that had appeared to accommodate all of the people who wished to pay their respects. The weather remained unclear but was not paid the slightest bit of mind by those who came to honor Harry Potter. The chairs were filled almost instantly, there were witches and wizards everywhere, gazing at the tomb placed at the front.

But the startling amount of people didn't seem to faze three people sitting in the front row. They were very close to each other, but also seemed very far apart. These three people were Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

All three had witnessed the death of both their worst enemy and best friend. And to many, their behavior may have seemed strange, frivolous, and inappropriate. For each was crying tears that never seemed to end, but through the infinite tears a beaming smile could be seen plastered across their faces, which seemed as if it would never go away. They had lost their friend. But the man who had taken him, who had made their life unbearable, was gone as well. The journey of a lifetime was over. But the memories would always remain. A bittersweet July.

ooo

Ron Weasley was as undecided as the weather. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did both.

As he stared at the tomb in front of him he knew that he would never again see his best friend. Harry Potter was his best friend. There was no one else. They had been through so much together. And through everything, the good and the bad, he had always been there. Harry had been the only constant thing in Ron's ever- changing life, always there to talk, to have fun with, to experience something new with.

Harry Potter was his best friend. Nothing would ever change that. It didn't matter that he would no longer be there. He would always be there in Ron's memory.

Ron had been through so much with Harry, nearly getting killed so many times. And now it had finally happened. His best friend was gone. The story was over. There was no going back. The journey was over.

Yes, the journey was over. But so many extraordinary things had happened along the way.

ooo

Ginny Weasley was crying, more accurately, she was sobbing her heart out. It was over. Sometimes people felt relieved when they heard that. She felt broken. She felt so sad about it that there was no way to express her grief except to just allow the tears to keep coming.

She watched the tomb swim in and out of her bleary, watery vision. Harry Potter, her best friend, the love of her life, her hero, she would never see him again. She thought that without him, it would be impossible for her to go on. Harry Potter had been her adventure. Whenever life was dull, or undecided, he would leap into her life, stirring up everything and making life worthwhile again. She thought he could do anything. She used to love to just watch him. Everything he did had seemed exciting. She was drawn to him.

But now the adventure was over. There would be no more quests to destroy dark magical objects, no more rescue missions, no more kisses in the Gryffindor Common Room. But she had done all of those things before hadn't she? Yes. But she always wanted more. She could never ever get enough of Harry Potter.

But the adventure would never leave her memory. And the time they had together would always be ready to be relived at the first thought. Always there. The memories would never go away.

And maybe her adventures were indeed over. Her time had finished, she had had enough of them to last much more than a lifetime.

ooo

Hermione Granger was beaming, smiling ear to ear and nothing, not even being constantly reminded of the death of her best friend in the entire world, could wipe that grin off of her face.

The sky changed suddenly. The light gray sky began to change slowly to dark, and a low rumble of thunder sounded somewhere in the distance. Rain began to come down, intermittently at first, but then hard and fast. The sky had finally decided to cry for the loss of one of the greatest men to have ever lived. But Hermione Granger smiled on.

Harry Potter, well he'd been everything to her. Her life, and she wasn't sorry to admit it, had revolved around him. She knew that he'd never have admitted it though. Harry Potter had been her journey from childhood to adulthood. He was an adventure all his own. Just knowing him had changed her. She shuttered to think how empty her life would be if she were not sitting, rain soaked but beaming, in this chair right now.

When she met him she had been so different than she is today. Eleven. Bossy. Too intelligent for her own good. But Harry had changed that. In his presence, she had blossomed. She learned through experiences, not through books. They grew up together. Now she was a woman. Eighteen. Bright. Accomplished.

With his death had been the death of her childhood. With his death, it had seemed to her that a very large part of her life had ended. Now she had to start anew, begin a new chapter. Or possibly, begin a whole new book.

She didn't know why she always compared her life to books. Maybe it was because it was something that she was familiar with. But she always saw her life, her memories, her future, as books. Her future, those were the empty books waiting patiently to be written in. Her memories of Harry, seven wonderful years that she wouldn't trade for anything, they were the pride and joy of her collection. They had beautiful covers and beautiful stories, always waiting, patiently, expectantly, invitingly, to be taken off her shelf and reread, relived. But no matter how many books would eventually accumulate on the shelves of her life, there were seven that she knew would be read and reread more than any of the others combined, seven that would always stand out from the rest. The ending was bittersweet. The journey was over. But the memories would last forever, memories of the Boy Who Lived, memories of the boy who lived on in her heart, her friend, her adventure, her hero, Harry Potter, the boy with the lightning bolt scar.