JAMES POTTER | LILY POTTER
BORN 27 MARCH 1960 | BORN 30 JANUARY 1960
DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981 | DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
"'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death…'" Harry froze after muttering the words on his parents' tombs. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"
Hermione strengthened her grip on Harry's hand. "It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," Hermione said. "It means. . . living beyond death. Life after death. It comes from Paul's first letter to the Corinthians."
Harry's initial reaction was irritation. His parents were not alive, not there with him. He was staring at the evidence of exactly that. His nine long, uninterrupted years at the Dursleys were proof that his parents had left him.
His second reaction was guilt.
"Do you. . . believe in Heaven?" Harry asked her after a moment.
"I didn't used to. . . In fact, I began to think it was all rather silly before heading off to Hogwarts," Hermione quietly said. "But, we know there is an afterlife, don't we? Our first encounter with ghosts in the Great Hall proved that," she added, making eye contact with Harry. "I believe that they are watching over you, Harry."
He looked back at Hermione, who then turned toward the church where parishioners were filing in through the oak doors. Echos of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing' rang out across the grounds of the cemetery.
"We know Jesus existed," Hermione continued. "But if he was truly the Son of God. . . I guess that's where faith is supposed to come in, isn't it? But. . . even a wizard can't completely die and be resurrected. No matter the bastardization that You-Know-Who has attempted."
Hermione paused before asking, "Have you ever been to church?"
"No. The Dursleys only ever went at Christmas and Easter," Harry responded. "They said that a 'freak' like me didn't belong inside a church," He could see a mixture of anger and sadness from Hermione before she looked away from him.
A small white sign inscribed with 'St. Mark the Evangelist Catholic Church' sat in front of the chapel.
"Can. . . can we go, please? Harry? I know that's not what we came for. But. . . I haven't been since I went with my parents before Hogwarts."
Hermione's chocolate eyes peered up at Harry — dark and glistening. "Okay," Harry whispered. Hermione pulled away, still holding his hand, and led him toward the church. The two magicals plodded across the snow and back through the kissing gate at the entrance of the cemetery. Crossing the street, Harry and Hermione followed an elderly couple through the church doors.
St. Mark's consisted of several rows of several rows of wooden pews straight back from the altar. Soft lighting, accentuated by candles, emphasized the small and cozy atmosphere. Purple stained glass adorned the wall behind the altar, moonlight shining through from beyond.
Hermione dipped her hand in water before raising her hand to her forehead, her sternum and shoulder to shoulder. Harry did not replicate her actions, but followed her to the furthest-back pew and shuffled in until he was sat between Hermione and the wall.
Hermione once again grabbed Harry's hand, leaning her head on her shoulder. Her long and bushy brown hair spread across Harry's shoulder and chest as the two sat quietly and listened to the various Christmas carols sung by the choir.
With 'The First Noël' ringing throughout the chapel, Harry's focus faded as he considered how he and his best, most loyal friend had gotten to this point. It had been two months since Ron had stormed out of their tent in a rage. Two months since their other best friend, Harry's first friend, had abandoned them during a war.
Hermione had been distant from Harry in the weeks immediately following Ron's betrayal. Weeping on her bed, hardly talking and eating even less. But things had been better since the night they shared a dance. Gloomy, yes. But that little spark was all the two of them needed to grow closer than ever before. Hermione began to open up to Harry — about her decision to send her parents away; her childhood in which the bullying was even worse than her first few weeks at Hogwarts; how she had harbored feelings for Ron, feelings that disappeared right along with him.
Harry told her more about his life with the Dursleys than he had ever told anyone before — the cupboard under the stairs, dodging frying pans and bowls of soup pushed through a cat flap. He told her of his fears for those associated with him. His expectations of not surviving the war.
Harry and Hermione began to rely on each other more than ever before, unknowingly cementing one another as the most important persons in each other's lives.
The young wizard snapped out of his daze when the congregation all stood and the choir began to sing 'O Come, All Ye Faithful'.
A procession entered through the open doors at the back of the chapel, led by a boy around Harry's age carrying a crucifix. As the priest, the deacon and the servers stood upon the chancel, the song came to a close.
"We gather in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen,' the priest said, making the same sign of the cross that Hermione had done entering the church. "The grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all."
"And with your spirit," everyone around Harry, including his best friend, replied.
"Welcome to this celebration of the birth of our savior, Jesus Christ. A new life that we receive because God has come into our world and our life. Let us acknowledge our sins and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the Sacred Mysteries."
Harry turned toward Hermione — her head was bowed, but still she looked more relaxed than he had seen her in months. 'Acknowledge our sins, indeed,' Harry thought. Throughout their conversations, Harry noticed that Hermione had carefully avoided any of their spats over the years. Never as extreme as the arguments between Hermione and Ron, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Hermione was certainly stubborn and a bit of a know-it-all. When she believed she was right, there was nothing that could sway her opinion. But Harry also knew that the majority of things she did, she did out of concern for him.
The broom incident in third year; pestering Harry to teach them Defence; everything with the Half-Blood Prince. She should have spoken with Harry about the broom. She shouldn't have been so harsh to him about the book. But Harry still felt guilty with how he had treated her at times despite Hermione having nothing but his best interest in mind. It was something for which he felt he needed to atone.
Harry followed along with the Mass closely, if anything because it would make Hermione happy for at least one night. Throughout the evening, Harry could not help but feel a bubble of hope growing within his chest. He doubted that one service would make him a believer, but sitting in a church on Christmas Eve surrounded by people that could have been his parents' neighbors gave Harry a deep sense of comfort under the shadow of war.
"Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:
"'Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to people of good will.'"
As the Mass wound down, Harry felt lighter than he had in months — maybe years. 'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death...' Harry wasn't naïve, he knew there was a good chance he wouldn't survive the war. In fact, he expected it. But, maybe this belief of life beyond death was the difference between the Potters and Voldemort. While Riddle performed great acts of evil to chase eternal life on earth — James and Lily Potter willingly gave their lives for Harry to survive. If their tombstone was anything to go by, they did so knowing that they would get to see him once again some day.
Harry and Hermione processed out of the chapel, the witch looping her arm through the wizard's, and shifted over to the side of the building. Snow fell heavier than it had when they were in the graveyard, catching on Hermione's hair and lashes. Harry stared at her, feeling an inexplicable surge of joy in the presence of his best friend. He knew she had always been beautiful — or at least, he had known since the Yule Ball in their Fourth Year. But the sight of her outside of the church, in the snow and attached to his arm made his stomach clench.
Hermione faced Harry, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Thank you, Harry," she murmured before surprising him once again that evening. She lifted onto her toes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to Harry's lips before wrapping him in a hug much gentler than Harry was used to from his. . . 'best friend' suddenly seemed inadequate.
Still in shock and even a bit choked up, Harry returned the hug and stood holding Hermione as the church continued to empty.
The next few months were going to be brutal. Deadly, painful, terrifying and heartbreaking. They knew that. But in that moment in front of St. Mark's church in Gordic's Hollow, Harry and Hermione felt at peace as they set off toward the old woman waiting for them further down the road.
May the blessing of Almighty God — the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit come down on you and remain with you forever, Amen. Go in peace. Thanks be to God.
AN: St. Mark the Evangelist is the patron saint of lions.