Chapter 27 - Mortally wounded and Spaces (Prompts)
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The service moved too slowly. There were speeches from so many people, occasionally interesting, but mostly repetitive as they spoke about the Final Battle. Some compared the final standing against Voldemort to the First Battle fought while others spoke of the bravery of the younger generation and the ridiculously high expectations that were now placed on their shoulders. There were speeches about what was to come, statements about how everything was now the past and how everyone should look to the future. It almost sounded as if what they had gone through was a serious glitch, one that could be easily overcome like a mortal wound. But looking around, Harry knew that wasn't the case.
He had never been the type of person to listen to long, drawn out speeches and this was no exception. He found his mind wandering within minutes of the opening address. His eyes immediately fell on those who sat on either side of him; from the members of the Ministry for Magic on his right to Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys to his left. All of their expressions were melancholy, and Harry couldn't help but notice that those who had fought alongside him against Voldemort and his Death Eaters kept their heads low. He even managed to share a few acknowledging nods with his fellow class men who had attended the service with their loved ones.
When Kingsley finally took the podium and started mentioning all those who fell, Harry felt Ron stiffen right beside him. His best mate leaned back with a low breath, almost as if he was bracing himself for something horrible and Harry immediately placed a comforting hand on his shoulder which earned him a thankful look.
Kingsley went through the names alphabetically, giving a small description following each name to appease the family members in attendance of those who didn't survive. As he came towards the names under 'W', Ron's fists clenched, the only indication that he was in any way affected by the proceedings since he had taken great care in keeping his features impassive. A small movement in the corner of his eye made Harry notice that Hermione had placed her hand comfortingly on his best mate's hand. But the next second, Ron had moved his hand right out from under hers and shifted closer to him, his very behaviour screaming that he wanted nothing to do with her. Harry need not have seen Hermione's face to know that she was probably devastated by the rejection. Especially since Ron's impassive features had hardened considerably after that one moment.
Harry frowned, unable to determine if the tangle of emotions he was feeling was a good thing or a bad thing. It was obvious that Ron had forgiven him and not her; that very fact upset him. But the unfamiliar feeling within him that had started showing its face since half way through the Horcrux hunt felt differently. That need to keep Hermione selfishly beside him and away from Ron was elated by the snub and made him feel guilty for it. Fred Weasley's name was one of the hardest to hear, along with Remus, Tonks, Colin Creevy and especially Snape. Once Kingsley had completed his list and moved on to the ideals of the future, Harry realized with a pang that no one had mentioned Dobby. Surely the former house-elf deserved something more than a grave for all that he had done. He felt the urge to mention his friend. Everyone needed to know that he and his friends wouldn't have been standing here if it weren't for him. If anything, none of them would be sitting here if it weren't for his bravery.
Harry's fists were clenched and his mind was set to give Kingsley exactly what he asked for; if only to let everyone know that there were others who were instrumental in the defeat of Voldemort, when it happened.
He caught a glimpse of a dark cloak that was immediately hidden by the thickness of the Forbidden Forest. Harry squinted at the spot, trying to discern if it had been a trick of the light, or whether he had seen someone hiding. He didn't have that much time to think about it. For while he was too preoccupied by what he thought he saw, a sudden sound like an explosion permeated the air, along with the immediate uprising of the earth around them, the particles of sand hitting them sharply like shards of glass. Harry immediately ducked along with all those around him, his hands moving to cover his ears as the loud bangs continued. The sudden panicked screams and scrambling of bodies were overwhelming. He immediately reached for his two best friends to make sure they were alright, while his other hand searched inside his robes for his wand. Within moments, Aurors had them surrounded protectively with their wands drawn and waiting for another attack, even as they were all huddled close together in wake of that disturbing sound that was now accompanied by a screech every now and then by someone who was afraid.
Harry immediately raised his eyes to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, his senses telling him that there had been someone there; someone who had done this. Under the hazy sense of panic, he thought he saw movement. Even though Forest was dark, he was sure he could trust his eyes. Clenching his wand tight, he made a run for it, his feet moving fast even as he heard his name called after him. He was even aware of the sound of hurrying steps just after a short moment. But Harry didn't stop. He was too busy hearing the loud pounding of his heart over the cries of his name.
He had seen him; he was sure of it.
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