Harry exited the fire to find he was not in Gryffindor Tower, as he had expected. Even more concerning, there was no sign of the Weasleys or Hermione. Instead of the red and gold wall hangings on his House's common room he was greeted by a familiar, circular office and the startled faces of Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a few other ministry officials. The Headmistress found her voice first.
"Mr. Potter! What are you doing here?" She demanded.
"This is a private meeting, Harry." Kingsley said sternly. A couple of the ministry drones glared at him.
"I–I–Er," Harry stammered.
Dumbledore's portrait came to his rescue. "Minerva, Kingsley," he said, his eyes twinkling, "I don't believe either of you closed the Floo connection after our new Minister's arrival?" Their expressions softened and the both had the decency to look embarrassed, which shocked Harry more than anything. He'd never seen that expression on either of their faces.
Dumbledore continued with a small smile, "As for Harry, here, I'm guessing he didn't intrude intentionally. Tell me, Harry, what did you say when you flooed over?"
It was Harry's turn to look embarrassed. He lowered his eyes and felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "I just said 'Hogwarts," he admitted.
McGonagall waved her hand and fire behind Harry flickered and died, the connection severed. "An interesting oversight in security don't you think, Mr. Robards? Especially when so many people have good reason to be distracted."
The graying man next to Kingsley had not stopped glaring at Harry, but at McGonagall's comment he turned away and nodded at her. "We're lucky he discovered it before someone else did, Professor" he said gruffly.
"Well, no harm done, Mr. Potter. Though perhaps next time a little more care is in order?" the Headmistress admonished him with a wry smile.
On a whim, Harry gave them both a cheeky grin, causing Robards to scowl once more. "I haven't made that mistake since my second year, when I accidentally turned up in Borgin and Burkes," he said.
"I'll take Harry to Gryffindor Tower, Minerva," Kingsley stated, holding up his hand to stop his underlings' protests. "The ceremony should be starting relatively soon, and I'm sure Molly is beside herself with worry. Have one of the portraits let her know we're on our way, so that she doesn't blame Harry, here." McGonagall chuckled, and waved them off.
They descended the spiral staircase in silence, and as they started down the corridor Harry's brain caught up with his ears. "Minister?" he asked.
Kingsley smiled. "Yes, the Wizengamot passed a majority vote yesterday evening," he explained. "Something about 'strength and unity in the wake of battle.' They seem keen to show their faith in us victors."
Harry snorted. "We could have used that faith a couple years ago, when Riddle came back," he said sourly.
Kingsley chuckled, but halted and fixed Harry with a piercing stare. "There's a very important upside to this, you know," he said quietly. Harry cocked an eyebrow. "If we let them give us authority, we can change the Ministry from within. We can make it better, Harry. Just something to think about."
Harry's eyes widened as he caught on. They really could improve things, with Kingsley as Minister. He thought of all the times Fudge and Scrimgeour had approached him, and how they'd always managed to get in his way. What if they'd had a Minister for Magic like Kingsley Shacklebolt? How much better prepared would they have been?
How many people would still be alive, had the Ministry worked like it was supposed to?
Something clicked in Harry's mind at that moment. He'd always been furious with the previous ministers for their ability to consistently do the wrong thing. It was made worse, he realised, because he couldn't help but feel there'd have been a lot less dead Muggles had the Ministry heeded his warnings in the first place. It still made him angry, but he was immensely relieved to know those people had not died because of him. It felt like he'd finally relaxed a number of muscles he hadn't known were tense.
Harry sped up to match Kingsley's pace, and the walked the rest of the way to the Fat Lady's portrait in companionable silence. As they neared the portrait hole, Harry spoke up. "Kingsley, you asked me to carve Lupin's name into the memorial, but may I ask who is carving Snape's name?"
"Do you believe Severus Snape should be a part of the memorial?" the Minister asked in surprise. "It's well known he was a Death Eater."
"He carried the Dark Mark," Harry said firmly, "but he wasn't a Death Eater. Not at the end."
Kingsley looked Harry in the eye for a moment, and the nodded and acquiesced, "Very well, Harry Potter. We will remember him as a member of the Order of the Phoenix." His visage relaxed, and he chuckled again. "At this point, you could probably demand Order of Merlins for every house elf in Hogwarts, and the Wizengamot would give it to you. Your word carries a lot of weight, you know."
"I didn't ask for it to," Harry said quietly.
"I know, Harry. And I don't mean to make light of your efforts," Kingsley said solemnly. "See me after the memorial, if you would; we have some things to discuss." Harry nodded and shook the older man's hand, then headed through the portrait hole.
"It was Knockturn Alley all over again," Ron chortled as they walked across the grounds for the ceremony, and Harry managed to give him a smile. His pensive mood had been interrupted as he had entered the Gryffindor common room. As soon as he crossed the threshold Molly had given him a quick hug and started telling him off for disappearing. She had seemed to be torn between smothering him and scolding him, so she had settled for something in-between, brushing soot off his dress robes while muttering to herself about how hard it was to keep track of him. The rest of the Weasleys had been snickering as she fussed, and Harry had even caught Ginny smiling at him. He'd grinned back at her, heart leaping in hope.
The service was being held down by the Black Lake, where someone had arranged row upon row on chairs for the mourners and spectators to use. Harry was glad to see there was only one photographer, wearing a ministry robe. He'd heard in passing that the Press was being kept outside the gate to Hogsmeade.
The chairs were facing a small stage, upon which sat the large black marble monument. It was elegantly cut, but simple. There was very little ornamentation, just a short message and a space for the names of the fallen. Harry's heart dropped as he remembered there were more than enough names to fill that space. The message read:
In Memory Of Those We Lost
2 May 1998
May Their Sacrifice Be Remembered
"A bit simple, innit?" Ron muttered.
Harry shook his head. "It's perfect." And it was. There was no mention of Voldemort, no mention of Harry Potter. Today's ceremony and this monument were dedicated to the brave people who had fought and died for what the believed was right. Their loved ones needed this day to mourn. For his part, Harry had been horribly afraid this memorial would somehow find its way back to the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One. He would not have been surprised if Kingsley had asked him to speak, something he was really hoping to avoid. Keeping the Press out and keeping Harry Potter out of the spotlight, these two gestures gave him a lot of hope for the new Minister's regime.
Despite Harry's detour his group was among the first to arrive for the ceremony. He scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Of course, the easiest to find was Hagrid, sitting across the aisle-way and off to one side on a specially-made bench, his tablecloth-sized handkerchief already in hand. Not to far from Hagrid sat Dennis Creevey with two people who could only be his parents. They were all fairly small and very grief-stricken. Robards must have lifted the Muggle-repelling charms for today, Harry registered. A few rows behind the Creeveys he found the person he was looking for.
He left the Weasleys a moment and headed that way, stopping to squeeze Dennis' shoulder and wave at Hagrid, who gave him a soggy smile. He then approached the tall, sober woman who was sitting alone. Well, not alone, as she was rocking the pram next to her absentmindedly while she watched his approach. She was also not the only person sitting in her row, but somehow the others had left a wide gap on either side. A part of Harry couldn't blame them–she and her late sister looked remarkably alike, and he had quite nearly jinxed her the last time they met.
"Mrs. Tonks? It's Harry," he said nervously, "Er, Harry Potter." He was messing this up. She knows who you are, you prat.
Andromeda Tonks was a tall, proud woman, and shared many physical characteristics with Bellatrix. They had the same thin lips and dark, heavily lidded eyes. He'd been on the business end of Bellatrix's wand enough, it was no wonder he was nervous.
"I remember you, Harry. How can I help you?" She asked, a little formally.
"Yeah, it's good to see you again. Well, not exactly good, what with the memorial... Er," He felt himself blushing, trying not to put his foot in his mouth.
Andromeda smiled warmly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and she looked so much like her daughter that Harry was able to relax. He swallowed and started again.
"I'm really sorry for your loss, Mrs. Tonks," he said earnestly, and she nodded her thanks graciously. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted get a chance to talk to you. About Teddy."
She pulled the pram a few inches closer, seemingly unconsciously, but didn't speak.
"Remus found me at Shell Cottage the night Tonk–Nymphadora gave birth," Harry explained, taking a deep breath. "He asked me to be Teddy's godfather, and well, I want to help. I want to help both of you. Er, would it be alright if I were to come over occasionally to visit?"
Andromeda let out a big sigh, startling him. "Oh, Harry," she breathed, eyes heavy with tears, "that would be wonderful. You are most welcome to come and visit."
Harry released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding in. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
"Do you want to hold him?" She asked suddenly.
"Er, what?"
Before he could protest, she was placing the baby in his arms. Harry was terrified. She showed him how to cradle him and how to support his head. He was so tiny, Harry was sure he would accidentally hurt him. Andromeda fussed over the two of them until she was satisfied, and Harry began to relax when he was reasonably certain he wouldn't drop his godson.
Teddy slumbered peacefully, wrapped up in a blanket with only his head exposed. On top of his head was a thick tuft of turquoise hair. Just watching Teddy sleep, Harry felt warm and peaceful for the first time in what felt like years. He looked up at Andromeda again and found her watching the two of them, her expression serene.
"He started to change hair colors almost as soon as he was born, just like my Dora," she said softly. She then looked up into his face. "Harry... Remus and I had our differences, but it's times like this that I can see he was a much wiser man than I remember to give him credit for. He told that you yelled at him, scolded him for leaving... Seeing you now, it's pretty obvious he made the right choice in asking you to be Teddy's godfather."
Harry blushed furiously, but he was immensely pleased. "Mrs. Tonks,"
"Harry, call me Andromeda."
"Er, okay. Andromeda, would you and Teddy want to come sit with me and the Weasleys? Maybe that way Molly can hold him when they call for Remus and.. and for Dora."
"I'd like that, Harry."
Harry turned his attention back to Teddy as they made their way toward the Weasleys. Molly, Ginny and Hermione stepped up to meet them, the Weasley men a step behind. Even George had stood up for a better look. Ginny was staring at him again, clearly unsure what to say. There was something else behind her hesitation, too. Longing? Harry looked around at the rest of them, noting not for the first time that they were the closest thing he had to a family. Was it too much to hope he could actually have a family? He pushed the confusing thoughts from his mind.
"This is my godson, Teddy," he said softly, then added, "and Andromeda Tonks, his grandmother."
"Oh Harry, he's beautiful!" Molly gushed, then looked to Andromeda. "May I, Mrs...?"
"Call me Andromeda, dear, and of course you may."
Harry passed Teddy off to Molly, who looked positively delighted. For the first time in days the Weasley matriarch seemed to come alive. He wasn't the only one to notice, either. Arthur gave Harry a truly thankful smile and reached over to squeeze his shoulder before stepping up next to his wife.
Later on, Harry could not decide whether the ceremony had passed quickly or slowly. He remembered listening to Kingsley's speech, but he had no idea what the new Minister had actually said. He remembered the ceremony's beginning, but seemingly in the next moment the man's deep voice was reading the names of the fallen, and families waited for their turn to rise and inscribe their loved one's name on the monument.
He distinctly remembered when Kingsley called "Colin Creevey," and Harry had struggled to find his breath. He'd seen Dennis rise and start walking toward the podium, but then the youngest DA member fell to his knees, sobbing. Harry had started to move, to help him, but George beat him to it. The stocky redhead pulled Dennis to his feet and supported him all the way up to the stage. George had held the younger boy upright while he carved Colin's name into the stone. As they made their way back, Harry could see George's jaw clenched shut, determination written across his face.
Harry's next memory was of Kingsley calling "Nymphadora and Remus Lupin." He had forced himself to his feet, and waited for Andromeda to pass Teddy off to Molly. Andromeda had looked at him, her back straight, her bearing proud, but her eyes full of unshed tears. Harry had offered her his arm, and they walked side by side up the aisle. Once Andromeda was done with her daughter's name, he'd stepped up and slowly, painstakingly carved REMUS JOHN LUPIN into the marble with his wand. Each letter had felt like a knife in his heart, and as had he returned to his seat he knew he was openly weeping. Ron had pulled him into a one-armed hug, and Hermione had reached over to squeeze his knee.
A little later, Kingsley had called "Severus Snape," and whispers had spread through the respectfully silent gathering like fire. Harry remembered standing, making the journey again and carving SEVERUS SNAPE, his eyes dry. The whispers had quieted by the time he was seated, and the solemnity of the occasion resumed.
Of all of the names he remembered, for Harry the next was the hardest. Even knowing it was coming, hearing Kingsley's low voice say the name, "Fred Weasley" had felt like a blow to the chest. More than one Weasley had burst into tears, and they all rose slowly. Charlie and Percy had flanked George, nearly carrying him to the stage. Molly was leaning on Arthur heavily, and Ginny supported her mother from the other side. Hermione had taken Ron's hand and pulled him up, and they walked together, their fingers intertwined. As Fleur had started to pull Bill away, he stopped and turned back to Harry, who was still seated. He tugged on Harry's shoulder.
"C'mon, mate," Bill had said. "All of us, remember? The whole family."
Harry had looked up into Bill's scarred face and let himself be pulled to the front one last time. Ron had put his arm around Harry's shoulders from the other side. He had stood between the two tallest Weasley sons, feeling like an intruder, feeling like he didn't belong. But as he watched George shakily pull out his wand, and Charlie and Percy had helped their brother steady his hand and carve their missing brother's name, he'd finally understood one very simple and very important fact: They were telling him it was okay. They were telling him he was allowed to miss Fred too.
Author's Note: And here we are with more sadness! Chocolate all around. I love writing about Teddy though.