A/N: This chapter. Hell of a challenge. I've been working on it on and off for over a year. I wanted to get the 'first anniversary' right, as it's such a big part of post-DH stories, and at the same time, not have it turn into a cliche. But finally, it's at a stage where I'm happy to share it...
XIV: Requiem
"But Death replied: 'I choose him.' So he went,
And there was silence in the summer night;
Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep.
Then, far away, the thudding of the guns."
- Siegfried Sassoon, The Death Bed
Ginny
"These are the terms: you'll start at base rookie salary, which is capped across the league. If you're promoted to second string, then you also get a corresponding rise. Sign here, please," said the lawyer.
I did so.
"Starting players and active reserve get a bonus for each victory - one of the perks of playing for us, I might add," he added.
"The League is not liable for any injury you may incur as a result of playing Quidditch. However, if you're injured, then the Team does cover the cost of your treatment. You're put on injured reserve and only receive sickness pay. Sign again."
I nodded and scrawled my name with the quill.
"For misdemeanours, or behaviour that reflects poorly on the Team, penalties include League fines, game bans, or demotion. And this one too," he added, gesturing to the parchment in front of me.
"Press correspondence is dealt through the Team's Press Office. They'll brief you on appropriate procedure. Complete this for membership to the Players' Association - they provide legal representation in the event of a dispute.
"Finally, we offer an accommodation stipend for renting in London - apply using this form - and when you're in Holyhead, you're more than welcome to stay at the team barracks."
He stood and shook my hand warmly.
Gwenog Jones, who had been standing imposingly in the corner, broke into a smile.
"Congratulations, Ginny. We'll see you back in six weeks. But first…" she handed me a small brown package. "…Open it."
With a rip, I tore the packaging to reveal a Harpies Team Jersey. Emblazoned in gold lettering was the word WEASLEY and the number 16.
"Welcome to the Holyhead Harpies."
I looked at the time on my wristwatch.
Half past two, May 1st.
I would remember this moment for the rest of my life.
But I couldn't help but dread tomorrow.
Harry
I parried a curse, and countered with white lighting, pinning one of my opponents down. It gave me the opening I needed.
"Avada Kedavra!"
She slumped lifelessly to the floor next to her partner, whom I had taken out with my opening salvo.
Two down, three to go.
Their crimes in the war had been minor. But crimes they had committed nevertheless.
One of the remaining three - a large, stocky man - rushed at me from my left.
Brave? Perhaps, but my first choice would have been stupid.
I reached out with my hand, using wandless magic to fling him through the air into the path of an oncoming curse.
A shield charm blocked a desperate flurry of hexes from the last two assailants as I waited for an opening.
One of the two hesitated, and it was all I needed.
A curse like a shotgun blast exploded a hole through her chest, and she too, fell.
The last, a balding wizard, gave a yell and rushed at me.
I neatly sidestepped him, making three quick motions with my wand.
The first slashing jinx took his wand. The second, his wrist. The third, his throat.
Blood came rushing down his front as he gasped with his dying breaths.
I surveyed the scene with grim appreciation, and spoke into my headset.
"Y?"
"Reading you, Harry."
"Lancashire house is clear. Five targets neutralised."
"Three for three tonight. Excellent. See you back at Mysteries."
I cast a small tongue of Fiendfyre, and watched as it ravaged through the room, eliminating the battle scene. Extinguishing the flame before it could grow too strong, I walked out of the house into the pale light that comes before dawn.
It was just another ordinary day.
Or at least that's what I tried to tell myself.
Except that couldn't be farther from the truth.
Today was not an ordinary day.
Today was the 2nd of May.
Kingsley woke early. He sat up, massaging his wrist, examining the thin scar that ran down his left forearm. Tom Riddle had gifted him the injury a year ago to the day.
He ran a hand over his scalp and stood, glancing at the clock.
3 minutes past 5 o'clock.
Lacing a pair of well-worn trainers, he stepped outside and closed his door with a soft click.
"Good morning, Minister," greeted an Auror, materialising out of thin air.
"Morning Jones," nodded Kingsley in reply.
The headlights of a Range Rover lit up behind him as the Minister for Magic began his morning run. His feet pounded the footpath as he ran into the crisp spring air, the Aurors following him at a close distance.
Jacobs, the Auror driving the Range Rover, put his vehicle into gear with a yawn.
"Bloody morning run. This was a lot easier with Fudge. Never got up before eight."
"It won't be a Dark Wizard that gets me, it'll be the lack of sleep," remarked his partner, O'Hara, sitting in the passenger seat.
"At least we don't have to run with him today," Jacobs replied.
"What's Royal saying?"
"He'll be practising his speech for the memorial," said Jacobs, "He's been working on it all week."
A few blocks later, Kingsley stopped at the street corner, leaning with one arm on the streetlamp as he caught his breath.
"Royal's stopped," O'Hara remarked.
"Eyes on the perimeter."
"Hooded man, on the opposite corner," Jacobs spotted. "He's masking his energy but he's definitely a wizard."
"He's watching Royal."
"Eyes on him."
"Consider hostile," said O'Hara, putting a hand on her wand.
The man in grey reached a hand into his jersey pocket.
"Hand!"
"GO! GO!"
The Range Rover pulled up in front of Kingsley, tires screeching.
"In the car!" Jones shouted.
Kingsley was pushed through the car door, landing on the back seat as Jacobs slammed his foot to the floor. The Range Rover accelerated impossibly fast, weaving between cars and pedestrians as it shot away.
"You don't think you're being a bit paranoid?" Kingsley asked, sprawled across the back seat.
"Not today," O'Hara replied.
Back on the corner, the man in the grey hoodie smirked, and disappeared into the night.
Harry
After catching a couple of hours of sleep back in London, I woke and dressed, pulling on a black shirt, and my black dragonhide. I slid my wand into a holster, and donned my Invisibility Cloak.
The memorial at Hogwarts didn't begin until noon, but virtually all the senior Ministry officials and the Wizengamot would be making their way to the castle early.
I made my way to the Atrium. On any given day it would be busy, but today it was packed.
Kingsley, Arthur, and a couple of other senior officials were dressed in white robes. I saw several Department Heads, including X, amongst them. The entire Wizengamot were there too, scattered in small clusters, also dressed in white.
The Aurors were out in force, in striking blood-red robes and a stony expression on every face. At a shouted command, they snapped into formation, creating a wall around the officials.
The expression on X's face was identical to that of the Aurors.
To any watching enemy, the message was clear. To get to the Minister, they would have to make their way through a wall of death.
A squadron of Hitwizards marched past the congregation, and quickly Flooed into the fireplaces.
They were the advance guard. The entire party would arrive at Hogsmeade and make their way to the castle.
I spotted Y in the crowd, leaning up against a wall with a scowl on his face, dressed in robes of dark blue, with a silver band around the cuffs. Like so many others, his colours were a clear message: Unspeakable.
A group of tittering secretaries - in light blue - kept stealing glances at Y with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. He just kept scowling.
About five minutes later, another shout went out, and the entire congregation began to move towards the fireplaces.
I made my own way to the streets of London, and with a crack, Apparated to Hogsmeade.
Ginny
"It's stupid. Part of me hoped he would come today."
"Me too," Ron admitted.
After Harry's disappearance, we had all coped in our own way. Ron had thrown himself into the joke shop following George's breakdown.
"Figure the world could do with a laugh," he had said with a shrug, turning down his final year at Hogwarts, not to mention thousands of galleons in promotional work, book deals, or endorsements. One company had approached him about becoming the spokes-wizard for their products.
"Hi, I'm Ron Weasley, and I choose Spectreglow? Fuck off."
At times it was hard to remember that Ron had lost his best mate - someone who had been by his side for seven years.
"Come, it's almost time," said Hermione, reaching out to straighten Ron's robes.
We made our way over to our seats, joining a group of dignitaries in a row of chairs marked 'VIP'.
It was a funny thing. I hadn't felt important when I committed to the Battle. I didn't feel important now.
Harry
My heart was heavy as I looked out at the crowd. So many people were here, those who I had abandoned without explanation, those who had given so much in my defence.
They had put their faith in me, and to their knowledge, I had done nothing to repay them.
I watched as a towering obelisk was unveiled. It was pure white marble, marred only by an inscription into the stone. From my position, it was difficult to see, but I could just make out the words:
II.
ON THIS DAY, HOGWARTS WAS ATTACKED BY THE FORCES OF DARKNESS
ON THIS DAY, HER CHILDREN GAVE THEIR LIVES IN HER DEFENCE
ON THIS DAY, HARRY POTTER DEFEATED TOM RIDDLE
ON THIS DAY, FREEDOM OVERCAME TYRANNY
ON THIS DAY, WE REMEMBER
Ginny
I watched as Kingsley unveiled the imposing obelisk. Despite the grey day, it shone brightly, a gleaming tribute to the Battle of Hogwarts.
Kingsley tapped his wand to his throat, and began to speak.
"One year ago, a terrible evil the likes of nothing the wizarding world has ever seen struck this sacred place. I believe that one of the greatest examples of Voldemort's - and I will say his name, for it is only a name - evil was that he chose to deliberately target children. But he was unsuccessful!"
"This is a day of celebration - the day freedom reigned supreme over oppression, over prejudice, over fear!"
"But all that we gained came at a terrible price. I believe that every single person here today lost someone. I see people who lost friends. I see people who lost family. I see people who lost parents, who lost lovers, who lost brothers."
I thought of Fred.
Harry
As Kingsley began his speech, I slipped away from the service.
I had somewhere else to be.
I made my way down the grounds, past Hagrid's rebuilt hut - an uncanny copy of the original - and to the Forbidden Forest.
Today, there was no fear.
I walked deep into the forest, retracing my footsteps almost exactly as I had first laid them down a year ago.
This was one journey I would never forget.
I paused at the place I remembered first summoning my parents, Sirius, and Remus.
If I searched around, I would probably find the Resurrection Stone in the woods ahead. For a brief moment, I was tempted to summon it. I knew it would respond to my call. I was, after all, the master of the Hallows.
But then the moment passed.
The Stone would not return them to me.
Nothing would.
Grimly, I kept on going.
I made my way around a tree, and then, there it was.
The clearing where I had died.
There was a lingering darkness here. It had been a year, but the earth was still tainted with Voldemort's presence. His evil had left a stain everywhere.
"I won, you bastard," I murmured quietly.
I walked around the clearing, and stood where he had stood, moments before killing me and the Horcrux he had unknowingly created.
"Was it worth it, Tom? All the killing? What did it get you, in the end?"
I answered my own question:
"You got fuck all! You never got your world, never got your pureblood paradise! How did it feel, having part of your soul ripped from you, all those times…all for nothing?"
A cool spring wind rustled through the trees. I sat on a blackened tree stump.
"And for every one of mine you killed, I'm killing two of yours."
I noted the last with particular satisfaction.
Suddenly, goosebumps rose on my arms. My magical senses were alerted.
Drawing my wand, I drew a complex enchantment in the air. A shimmering, golden light expanded throughout the clearing. When it reached the fringe, the golden light became an angry red, and then darkened to inky black.
Dark Magic. It had festered, like a tumour, waiting to ensnare the unwary.
I countered it with Dark Magic of my own.
A pulsating wave of black energy burst from my wand, engulfing the opposing magic.
If this clearing was destined to be cursed, then it would be my curse alone.
I forced more power, more anger into my spell, fuelling the magic.
And then, the black aura vanished. The crackling energy dissipated. It was done.
I walked out of the clearing as the grass wilted underfoot, and the trees around the fringe began to blacken and die.
Spring would not come here again. No life would grow anew. No animal would ever burrow through the undergrowth, no bird would ever fly overhead. Nature would reject this clearing for eternity.
It was a memorial only to death.
I stopped, and cast a ward around the boundary of the clearing.
There were many, many reasons why the Forbidden Forest was forbidden. My clearing would just become another one.
Ginny
"… alongside Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slughorn I took on Voldemort myself. He was like no one I have ever fought in battle. We were all swept aside by his terrible power. But one was not. One was able to stand up against him, as his equal. I am, of course, talking about Harry Potter. Harry Potter was able to defeat Voldemort. Many of you here today witnessed his courage and his sacrifice to avenge his family, defend his friends, and to bring freedom to the wizarding world."
"I do not know where Harry is. But I am sure his thoughts and his heart are with all of us today."
"You are all survivors of the tyranny we fought so valiantly against. You have all suffered loss. Friends, family, loved ones…each and every single one a hero - these are the people we mourn here today. We will remember them. Time will dim the pain of their loss, but not the significance of their deeds."
"We will remember them," he repeated.
"They gave their hopes, for victory, for the triumph of good over evil."
"They gave their lives, in the defence of their school, in the defence of their beloved, in the pursuit of freedom."
"And to those who would have been their sons and daughters, they gave their immortality."
Harry
I made my way out of the Forbidden Forest, near where the White Tomb held Dumbledore.
I took a seat by the shore next to the Tomb, ignoring the subtle pull of the Elder Wand.
My thoughts went back to the wizard who held it still.
What would he have thought of Wrath of Merlin? He would have hated it, surely. But then, it wasn't so different from his own endgame. He'd sent me to my death, after all. I was simply part of the means to an end.
All for the greater good.
As I walked around the edge of the lake, I came across an illuminated marble monument dotted neatly amongst a grove of trees.
Remus Lupin & Nymphadora 'Tonks' Lupin
Here they fell in battle, in hope that in their ending, they would deliver us a new beginning
I was reminded that every single day I remained hidden was another day I'd lost with Teddy. I had broken my promise to Remus.
I lifted my wand, and conjured rose buds that wove their way in amongst the trees.
With a flick, the buds began to bloom, producing flowers that had an almost unearthly beauty - flowers that would not wither and die, but stay golden for a hundred lifetimes.
I made a vow to show Teddy this place, when it was time for him to understand the sacrifice his parents made.
He would be the last orphan.
"Forgive me, Remus," I whispered, then turned my back on the shimmering light.
Ginny
"Hiya, Fred."
I looked at his tombstone:
FRED WEASLEY
He is our brother still.
"That's a godawful pun," Bill remarked, an arm around Fleur.
George gave a shaky laugh.
"He would've liked it."
Percy handed me a bouquet of flowers with a sad smile and I placed them down on the grave.
"We hope that you can hear us…and, we just want to say that we love you, and we miss you, every day."
Charlie knelt beside me, and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"The world's not quite the same without you, but we won, Fred. You won," he said.
"Your absence is the darkness now," Percy murmured quietly.
Harry
I made my way back to the memorial site and approached the monument. It was deserted now, with most of the party taking lunch in the Great Hall.
Y came into sight.
"Harry, you there?"
"Yeah."
"Not hungry?"
"Nah, you?"
"Neither."
I traced my hand over a couple of the names, remembering their faces, their voices, the way they asked a question in class, or celebrated a Quidditch win. I paused, and lifted my hand.
COLIN CREEVY
"Children. They were just children."
"They were heroes, Harry."
"Do you think it would bring them comfort, knowing that the ones who killed them are marked for death?" I asked.
"I'd like to think so," Y replied.
A moment of silence passed, then:
"Were you scared?"
"Terrified."
Y nodded.
"I'm shit company on a day like this."
"I don't think I'll be winning any prizes for most sociable wizard any time soon either," I replied.
He smirked in reply.
"Did you hear about Kingsley's run in this morning?" he asked.
"No, what happened?"
"Aurors got spooked. Evacked him on his morning run."
"He'll be pissed."
"He got over it. Can't say I blame the Aurors though. Some nutter is bound to try something stupid today."
"Have we received any threats?"
"Nothing. No new clients, either. The three safe houses you took out last night were the last targets we had."
Y checked his watch.
"Let's go. The lunch is scheduled to be over soon anyway."
"Sure."
I turned my back on Hogwarts, as I had done nearly a year ago to join Wrath of Merlin, and Disapparated.
Long after the crowds had departed, and night fell over the castle, Filius Flitwick knocked on McGonagall's office door.
"Enter," her voice called out.
"Good evening, Minerva."
"Filius, it's late - what brings you in at this time of night?"
"A couple of students, they were…ahem, well, they came across the memorial stone for Remus and Tonks, and it seems like someone has cast golden roses amongst the grove."
"Really?"
"It wasn't you?"
"No," she replied, "Why do you ask?"
"The charms work is very advanced, Minerva. Even the likes of Miss Granger would find it challenging. The sort of thing that Shacklebolt might be adept at. That's why I came to see if you'd done it."
"Well, I can assure you it wasn't me. Or the Minister for that matter, he was with me nearly the whole day."
"Peculiar. I went down and took a look for myself. The flowers seem to be everlasting. It's a lovely tribute," Flitwick replied, tapping a thin finger against one of Dumbledore's silver instruments sitting on McGonagall's desk.
"It's not dangerous at all, is it?"
"Not at all. I detected a faint magical signature, but nothing more. As I said, very advanced spell work."
"You didn't get anything from the signature?"
Flitwick frowned, and paused with his tinkering.
"A hint…it seemed similar to none other than Harry Potter's."
McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Potter? Do you think he was here? Could he do that spell?"
"I don't know. Potter wasn't a bad student by any means, but the level of finesse here seems beyond his talents. Then again, it has been two years since he was in my classroom."
"He would have the motive. He was very close with Remus, and Nymphadora too. They named him godfather of their son."
"I wasn't aware. Perhaps it was him then," the tiny Charms Professor concluded.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"What do you think of his disappearance, Minerva?"
The Headmistress gave a sigh, and rubbed her weary eyes.
"I have faith in Harry Potter, Filius. And I know my student. Whatever he is doing, it is important for the future of our world."
Harry
Later that night, I was studying the large map pinned to the wall in our operations room deep within the Department of Mysteries, when X entered.
"Where's Y?"
"Making some tea."
"Grab a seat, I've got something to show you."
Y entered the room with mug in hand, and sat.
"This was delivered to the Ministry today," said X, sliding something across the table.
It was a simple handwritten note on a scrap of parchment:
Today, you have mourned your losses and celebrated your victories.
Tomorrow, you will mourn your losses once more, but the victory will be ours.
"Eloquent," remarked Y.
I waved my wand at it, and tendrils of inky darkness bloomed from it. With another wave of my wand, a brilliant white light flushed the darkness away.
"I guess they're trying to make an impression," I said.
"Any luck in tracing it?" asked Y.
"No. Whoever wrote it wasn't an idiot," X answered.
"It doesn't matter," I said staunchly, "We'll find them."
"We always do."
A/N: Just to clarify, 'evacked' is slang for 'evacuated.'
Hope you enjoyed it, next chapter soon.