James kept wincing at the memory of the loud bang. The long explosion.
He was desperate to remember it. He wanted to know the exact moment at which Voldemort had died. But as he pictured the scene from hours ago, he could only remember the pain in his ears and the flashes of every colour. Including green. He would have screamed in terror had he not been blasted backwards that very second. Beyond that, all he could remember was his baby's cries and the raining down of splinters of his broken house.
He was bruised all over, and had not registered the pain until the moment he stepped into the shower. He had forgotten how powerful Hogwarts showers were. He had moaned aloud when he stepped into the hot spray. Fortunately, only Lily and Harry were around to hear him.
The bathroom steamed up. James was turning the water up hotter and hotter, melting the aches out of his muscles and scorching the bruises from his skin. He watched the water drip down him, pool at his feet and slowly drain away. Brown water, flecked with so much dirt and grit that James was surprised. He had been sitting at home all evening before it happened, not rolling around in a muddy field...
He liked to see the dirt drain away. It was as though fear and war were bodies of filth and washing them away was the first step in starting life all over again.
Life without Peter Pettigrew.
James did not hate Peter yet. He would eventually, he was sure of that. He knew that as his life unfolded and happiness was his again, he would hate Peter for what he'd tried to take from him. But for now, all James felt was loss. When he thought of Peter, his heart hurt from grief of losing him. His friend had died. He was gone forever. What existed in his body was a coward, a traitor, a bad friend and a dark wizard. But all James could picture was a shy, smiling Wormtail, whom James had ran down Hogwarts corridors with, flogged sweets with, played pranks with, suffered detentions with, and trusted with his life. Nothing about Peter Pettigrew's life made sense.
He stayed in the shower a long time. He made a pledge to himself, eyes closed, lips moving as he thought the words. Once he stepped out of the shower, his only objective would be to strive for what he and his family, until recently, had missed out on. He and Lily had never been adults outside of a war zone. They had never lived as proper parents. Harry had never had a carefree parent.
Life would always be hard. But not for Harry.
He stepped out of the shower, dried himself with the Gryffindor-red towel provided for him, and took a second to look around at the hospital wing's bathroom. He had been there twice previously in his life. Both times, he'd washed blood from his body. His first war casualties.
He found Lily and Harry on a bed at the far end of the hospital wing, Lily sipping a spearmint tea and Harry asleep beside her.
He walked slowly towards them, mindful of his own painful body, and came to sit on the bed by Lily's legs.
"I'm surprised he got to sleep without a struggle," said Lily as she put her tea down on the bed-side cabinet. "I couldn't find his teddy in the wreck."
James touched her cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes moist. Next, they were in each other's arms.
They clutched each other painfully tight. James scrunched her hair in his fist and drank in the warmth of the girl he loved. He could not hold her close enough. His heart thudded each time she tightened her limbs around him and she inhaled his scent. He could never let her go. Behind her, Harry continued to sleep. James would not disturb his baby now. But when he woke, he would hold him just as close.
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Lily had forced him outside the next day as soon as Sirius arrived.
James was happy to go. Living in hiding was bad for the soul, or at least that what Lily had said. Life without the freedom to be loud and spontaneous and stupid had made James feel frail. His bones felt brittle and his skin felt papery. Stepping out into the sunshine with Sirius, feeling the cold autumn breeze make him shiver and inhaling the fresh, earthy air of the forbidden forest made James feel more alive than he had in weeks.
As a stag, his senses were heightened. He had been looking forward to galloping in and out of the trees with a barking, panting dog at his side, but once his energy was exerted, James took overwhelming pleasure in standing still, breathing in and feeling the freedom.
It had taken him twenty one years to notice, but nature was beautiful.
When they emerged from the forest, the grounds were unseasonably sunny.
Sunset was precious. The sky, mountains, castle and lake glowed amber. The warmth was so delicious that James transformed back into a human, just to rub his hands over his face, washing in the sun's rays. Sirius, still a dog, rolled on to his belly and enjoyed the sun as much as James did.
James sat beside his canine friend on the bank of the lake and looked up at the castle. Students were walking to the Great Hall for dinner, their lessons finished for the day. Seeing them in their uniforms was strange. Life never stood still at Hogwarts. Not for anyone.
"I'm getting old, Padfoot. I'm sitting here reminiscing about the 'good old days'..."
Sirius rolled over and watched the students with him.
"They all look so young."
James had been that young once. He was twenty one, but the war seemed stretched to decades. It was sad to believe that James had been as young as some of the passing students when it all began.
James smiled. "We used to throw stink bombs into classrooms..."
He turned to his companion. "Where do you think Peter is, Sirius? Is he dead?"
Padfoot snarled, but lowered his head. He had no idea, and neither did James. So many of their friends were gone. James thought of Marlene, and glanced cautiously at Sirius as if he could possibly read his thoughts. Unlike Harry's intended murder, Marlene's death was without purpose. Death Eaters had killed her because of what she was. The McKinnon family were hunted for sport, and now the loss of Lily's best friend would leave a scar on her heart forever.
A figure approached them from over the hill. James leaped to his feet, then saw that it was Lily with Harry.
"I'm going mad, mate," said James lowly. "I keep wondering if Voldemort would resurrect himself just to avenge his own death."
Lily smiled and waved at him. James felt himself smile back.
Sirius charged across the embankment into the forest, where he'd left his clothes hanging on a tree. James jogged to meet Lily, and took Harry from her arms.
"It starts in fifteen minutes," she said, handing Harry over. "Dumbledore says we can use his floo network."
James nodded. "Who's going to be there?"
"Us, Remus, Dumbledore, some of the teachers, Moody, Kingsley and some of their lot, Bagnold and some of her lot... Augusta Longbottom..."
James looked up at her, frowning.
"Augusta... and I think some of the Prewetts."
James swallowed thickly. "I'm not looking forward to this, Lily."
Lily took a deep breath. "We'll get through it."
James looked over at the sunset, which was illuminating more clouds pink and red as it descended behind the mountains. "What did Madam Pomfrey say?" he asked, his eyes still trained on the beautiful horizon.
"That I'm fine, and Harry's fine too."
"That's good then."
"It is."
James looked at his wife, who was grinning at the lake.
"What's so funny?" asked James.
"Nothing."
"What are you so smiley for?"
Lily laughed. "Peace time." Then, her smile faltered. "We'd better get this over with."
James took her hand and lead her back to the castle with Sirius running to catch them up. His stomach knotted with dread.
When emotions were running high, an honouring of the dead was something of a catalyst for a purging of grief.
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Millicent Bagnold's office was a vast round room of deep blue brick and panels of glass, which looked down upon the rest of the main junction of the Ministry. It was kept warm with a permanent charm and hundreds of books were crammed into curved shelves all over the room. Bagnold's desk was littered with pictures of her many young grandchildren. Whilst they waited, Lily stood holding Harry, looking from the pictures on Bagnold's desk to the scene below, where the Minister stood on a platform addressing the crowds of rejoicing witches and wizards, who were all gathered around a glass coffin containing Voldemort's corpse.
"Can you hear what she's saying?" asked Sirius.
Lily shook her head. "Blah blah blah future, blah blah blah prosperity..."
"I bet Bagnold got her staff to write a speech months ago, and she's been learning it off by heart all this time for when Voldemort snuffs it."
"Be fair," Lily scolded. "This is a big historical moment. She has to say something powerful or else it's just... shit."
At that moment, the office door swung open. Bagnold's senior assistant, Isabelle Sommier, walked in smiling.
"This gentlemen claims he's your friend..." she said, stepping aside.
"MOONY!" shouted Sirius, bounding across the room towards him. Both he and James swallowed Remus Lupin in an embrace.
He looked awful, just like he did before a full moon. He closed his eyes as his friends engulfed him, silently thanking whichever deities were responsible for their survival. "You're alive..." he breathed. "You're alive..."
"Fighting fit," grinned James, patting his friend on the back. "Old Voldemort's looking a bit rough, though."
James and Sirius lead him to the window where Lily stood. Remus looked down at the crowds below, and the coffin that contained the reason for their joy. Again, Remus sighed with gratitude.
No longer able to contain herself, Lily flung her arm around Remus' neck. "I'm so happy to see you," she spoke into his shoulder.
"Likewise. You have no idea," he hugged her tightly back. He went to kiss Harry on the forehead as he often did, but hesitated.
"What's that?" asked Remus, staring at the scabbed lightening bolt-shaped cut Lily knew to be there on his forehead.
"A battle scar," she replied. "He's a hero."
She knew the cut would scar, and that didn't bother her yet. Maybe when Harry was older, and he was bothered by it. But for now, it merely served as a reminder of what he'd survived, and what he'd live to see now that their enemy was dead.
Someone at the door cleared their throat. Remus and Lily parted, all four of them looking at Isabelle Sommier, who'd coughed.
"If you'd like to follow me..." she said, before exiting the room. Sirius rushed after her, not bothering to hold the door open for his friends. James smirked.
"I'm trying to think of a joke about giving a dog a bone..."
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Voldemort's tomb was a mile underground. It was small, dark, damp and empty. Lily and James stood with their friends and a number of other gathering people at the very bottom of the Gringott's cave, where the safest vaults on the planet were kept. It was hot, and the cave floor was slippery and uneven. It felt like the most forgotten place on Earth. Perfect, for its intended use.
Lily had wondered if it had been inappropriate to bring Harry to the ceremony, but he was not the only child in the cave.
A plump red-haired woman stood with a red-haired man, clutching a bundle of pink blankets. Amelia Bones, one of the few faces that Lily recognised, was stood with a man and a woman who between them held a little girl who looked to be Harry's age.
Augusta Longbottom was void of emotion. She'd practically turned to stone, holding a squealing baby boy in her arms. The sight caused an ache in Lily's chest. She took deep breaths to steady herself.
"Mrs Longbottom's looking after Neville," Lily pointed her out to James.
James turned back to Lily. "Are you alright?"
"No," she responded. "Our friends should be here. They were weeks away from being here. It's not fair!"
Lily's voice had echoed. The red-haired woman who was holding the bundle of pink blankets gave Lily a watery smile, which Lily reciprocated.
Finally, Millicent Bagnold appeared through the tunnel with Dumbledore, McGonagall, Isabelle and the plump man from the night of Voldemort's death. She waved off the assistance of the goblins, seemingly knowing this part of Gringotts already.
Her shoes clacked against the flat stone as she walked, her gaze locked on Voldemort, her expression solemn. She came to stand in front of the gathered mourners, blocking Voldemort from view.
"Thank you all for coming," she spoke quietly, the cave providing ample echo for her voice to be heard by all. "In a strange way, I think we have all been looking forward to this day for a very long time..."
The small sniffs and quiet sobs had already started.
Bagnold looked behind her at Voldemort's face. She stared for a long time. "The only funeral he ever deserved was one filled with hatred..." she said. "... and those sentiments are certainly shared among us today..."
Lily allowed herself to look around at the gathering, at the relatives of those who'd died. She could see the faces of her friends all around her, and it hurt her to see it. As if life could be any more cruel as to leave traces of the lost on Earth in the living.
"... but we also come together in our never-fading love of those he took from us..."
Neville's cry rang out throughout the cave. Lily's tears over-spilled for that boy. She was reminded of the time Alice had cried after a humiliating Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. She wanted to hand Harry over to James, and feel the pain of not being able to hold her own son, just as Alice couldn't.
"... and that's what makes us the better people, I think. We fought for love, whereas he fought for power. Our losses were so much greater and each one ripped a hole in our lives, yet still we won."
Lily fought so hard against crying that her torso burned. She breathed slowly and deeply, calculated so that a sob could not escape. But the tighter she gripped Harry, the tighter he gripped her. The tighter he gripped her, the more she wanted to take him far away and cradle him and cry and never let him go.
"We now commit Voldemort's body to the dark emptiness in which he always belonged."
Bagnold, Dumbledore and McGonagall wielded their wands and magically lifted the glass coffin up from the granite slab on which it lay. They muttered incantations under their breaths. As they did, the glass panells separated and floated gloomily into other parts of the cave, all the while Voldemort's body remaining afloat. Bagnold flicked her wand and Voldemort's body drifted into the vault. He was lowered onto a bed of sticks and kindling.
It was ironic that Voldemort would be destroyed in the same way that muggles disposed of witches and wizards in medieval days. That was what he deserved.
One by one, members of the gathering stepped forward and shot a spark the size of a match flame from their wand, pouring as much emotion as they had into that one motion.
That's all they head. Instead of being able to tear Voldemort limb from limb, to burn him alive or simply curse him dead themselves, the people left behind were given one moment of weak justice. A single spell, which would cause no pain to him, and would not bring the dead back either.
Augusta Longbottom was the first to send a spark. She handed Neville to Isabelle and walked forward slowly, coming to stand in front of the vault entrance. She held her wand out.
"For Frank and Alice."
Her spark leaped from the tip of her wand into the bed of sticks, where it glowed orange where it had embedded.
The red-haired woman stepped forward, passing her baby daughter to her husband. Her chin wobbled as she fought back tears.
"For... f-f-for..." she whimpered. Her husband, too, was teary. She took a deep breath. "For Fabian and Gideon."
Once her spark had left her wand, she fell to pieces. McGonagall rushed over and helped her back to her place, as an elderly man hobbled forward with the assistance of Isabelle.
He held up his wand.
"For Caradoc."
Amelia Bones stepped forward with the man and woman who'd accompanied her. Tears poured freely down the faces of all three adults. Amelia and the man held up their wands.
"For Edgar," they said together.
Sirius and Remus stepped forward together. Lily was surprised to see Sirius crying. He never cried.
"For Benjy," said Remus.
"For Dorcas," said Sirius.
Finally, it was Lily and James' turn. They walked towards the vault which was now glowing orange. The growing flames were just grazing Voldemort's body.
Lily raised her wand. "For Marlene," she said clearly. She aimed the spark right into the heart of the flames, and Voldemort's body was then alight.
It took magic to close the vault door. The goblins held up their bony hands and the vault door creaked as it slowly shut, trapping Voldemort into his tomb forever.
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A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review,
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