Chapter 13 – The Final Piece of the Memory (A Flashback)

The weather was cruel on that fateful day. England's annual winter seasons were relatively cold and windy, lasting up to three months the longest. It did not always bring snow actually but that year was an

exception. Winter that year brought snow and along with it, pain.

But of course, not all of the UK inhabitants saw the weather as a disaster.

Near the outskirts of the small town of Godric's Hollow, out in an open playground covered by pure white snow, children and adults alike can be seen playing in the knee-deep snow, building snowmen, and having snowball fights. Everyone was having fun during the short-lived annual winter season.

Well, nearly everyone.

From the kitchen window watched as a group of children were having an intense snowball fight. The children's laughter could clearly be heard from where he stood. It was certainly infectious. But somehow this year, he was totally immune to all of that. Like the weather, the winter this year somehow was different than before.

He was pulled out from his reminiscent of the sound of coughing coming from the bedroom. He quickly gathered a bowl of water and a soft towel and walked toward the bedroom. Carefully placing the bowl of water on the bedside table, he turned his gaze towards her.

Victoire, Dominique, and Louis were already there. They arrived at Godric Hollow that morning together with their families. With the exception of James, both Victoire and Dominique had children.

Laid on the bed was a woman who to his eyes was the most beautiful woman in the world. And indeed she still was very beautiful. Her beauty successfully masked the suffering she endured at that very moment.

He sat right beside her. Wetting the soft towel he brought with him, he began to wipe his wife's face, her hands, and her feet, hoping that it would help ease her condition.

And as he did that, he began to recall the conversation he had with Cassandra Osman three days ago...

St. Mungos Wizard Hospital, three days prior…

From the entrance into the ward, Harry watched solemnly as Healer Osman treated Fleur. His wife's condition had been deteriorating for months. He brought her to the local healer at Godric's Hollow a few times before but those visits helped only a little.

It wasn't that Harry didn't want to take her to the hospital. It was Fleur who refused. She told him that she wasn't sick. She told him that veelas never get sick. It's just that her time had come to depart from this world. It was just a process. Every veela would have to go through it one way or another.

Fleur was a pure-blooded veela and so were their daughters, Dominique and Victoire. Indeed, the three of them never got sick as far as he could remember. It wasn't that he wasn't aware of the fact. He was made aware of it when his mother-in-law died many years back. Appoline never gets sick throughout her life. It was simply a process.

And it was the same process Fleur was going through at that moment. It was only when she could no longer withstand the suffering that she agreed to be brought to St. Mungos.

But knowing the fact didn't make him feel better. It made him feel worse, knowing that he had no power to halt the progress of time, knowing that he was powerless to prevent death, and knowing that he would eventually lose her.

"How is she, Cassy?" asked Harry when Cassandra approached him. She had just finished checking on Fleur.

Cassandra Osman was Fleur's childhood friend and they remained the best of friends. She had been with her through thick and thin. Cassandra eventually married a Briton and moved to England from France and had been working as a healer at St. Mungos ever since. She visited, and even stayed at Godric's Hollow many times before. Her visitation increased dramatically when Fleur fell 'ill'. She was ninety years old now and yet she kept on working. Her husband died twenty years prior. Now that her children were married and moved away, feeling lonely was part of the reason why she kept on working. She currently was the oldest healer at St. Mungos.

Cassandra sighed. She glanced at Fleur who was lying on the hospital bed. She then took off her glasses and looked at Harry intently. "She iz stable but you know just az well az I do zhat -… I mean… I will try to do everyzhing zhat I can."

"I have hope."

"We all 'ave 'ope, Harry. But you know zhis izn't some form of sickness she iz suffering, right?" asked Cassy.

Harry grimly nodded. "Yeah, I know. I know she will leave us eventually. But I can't stand watching her suffer, Cassy. I just can't. If there is a way for me to take away her suffering and put it all on me, I'll do it. I don't like being helpless."

Cassandra smiled a sad smile. "Zhat makes two of us. You know my 'istory wiz her goes far back before you even met 'er."

"Isn't there anything you could do? Anything?" asked Harry hopefully. "At least to ease her pain."

"Zhat iz zhe most I could do but everyzhing else will entirely depend on 'er. My advice iz zhat you should bring 'er 'ome. Zhis 'ospital iz dark and cold. Zhis isn't a place for 'er, 'Arry. She needs warmth and love. She needs 'er children. More importantly, she needs you," said Cassandra.

Harry solemnly nodded. "I will be there for her. We will be there for her."

"I know you will. You 'ave been good 'usband to 'er and a good father to your children all zhese years and you 'ave been good to all of us. She's lucky to 'ave you," Cassandra then pulled him into a hug. "Go to 'er," she whispered into his ears. She then let Harry go and took leave.

Harry watched as Cassandra disappeared into another ward.

He went to sit beside her bed. He took her hand into his and began caressing them. Her hand was still soft. Teenage soft as a matter of fact. And there were no visible veins and wrinkles on her hands or any other parts of her body. She looked no older than 40 years old. Quite a feat for someone who was already 90 years old.

She was sleeping. Her pink lips curved into a smile. It was the first smile she wore in the span of a month. She looked peaceful.

Harry decided to only bring her home the next day. For now, he was going to let her rest. After all, it was already late afternoon and he was tired. He and Fleur would spend the night at the hospital. Cassandra had promised to stay with them too.

Cassandra returned after she had done her shift at seven o'clock in the evening. She told him to go have dinner. "I'll look after her," she said.

Harry muttered thanks. He took one look at Fleur and took leave. But just as he walked out of the ward that houses Fleur, he met someone.

That someone was Draco Malfoy. He was waiting for him outside the ward. "Potter!" he greeted him. Like always. But now with a smile so instead of feeling annoyed, Harry felt happy to see him.

"Malfoy," replied Harry, smiling.

Teenage Draco was a total jerk. The much older Draco however, was completely different and he had been Harry's good friend for many decades. His life story post-Hogwarts was a very sad one. He never graduated from Hogwarts due to his failure to attend the seventh year of schooling. No reason was given for his absence but many surmised that it was due to his involvement with Voldemort and him joining the Death Eater. He admitted to Harry many years later that he felt unwelcome at Hogwarts which is part of the reasons why he never returns. His past had caused him no small amount of pain and embarrassment. While his family's fortune remain intact, his family's reputation didn't survive the Second Wizarding War. Every Lucius Malfoy's business venture suffered greatly. His business contracts were all canceled. Potential business partners refused to work with him. The public generally boycotts everything associated with the Malfoy family. And that's not including all the legal problems Lucius had to face due to his involvement with Voldemort. It had gotten so bad that Lucius eventually took his own life, leaving Narcissa and Draco to fend for themselves.

Draco luckily was mentally and emotionally stronger than his father. For the first ten years post Hogwarts, he did nothing. He just sits back, watching and pondering as Harry continues to rise and become the person people visualize him to be. Clarity came to him after an unexpected first meeting with Harry post Hogwarts. Harry treated him well during that meeting. Draco detected no animosity and hatred coming from The Boy Who Lived. All he saw was kindness and empathy. It melted his heart. All the coldness within him ended up driven away by Harry's manners.

It was then that he decided to emulate Harry. No, he wasn't about to become an Auror. He never thought of becoming one anyway. He decided that he too could save lives, just not in the same way as Harry. He decided to become a Healer.

And what a good Healer he became. Working tirelessly day and night post graduation – he had to take homeschooling and passed the exam in order to be eligible for entry to the Healer Academy – he saved a lot of lives during his time at St. Mungos.

That should have made him a hero, right?

Unfortunately, the general public maintained their cynical view towards him and his mother. They saw it as a repayment for all the pain the Malfoy inflicted upon them during the height of Voldemort's power. The Malfoy's name remained tarnished. Narcissa died alone. Draco, Harry, and Hermione were the only attendees at her funeral. She was buried in one of the smaller wizard cemeteries scattered in London beside her husband.

He had no friend, apart from Harry. Hermione saw him only as an acquaintance which Draco admitted to Harry was good enough for him. "It was better than I expected to be honest," Draco said to Harry one day when they were talking about his relationship with Hermione.

And he never got married.

He and Harry would meet whenever Harry was doing business at St. Mungo. They would have lunch together, mostly at cafes in the muggle side of London. Draco had been a great help to Harry in many of his cases and they ended up being good friends during their time working together.

Draco didn't inherit his father's lush hair. His hair had been steadily retreating ever since he went over thirty years old. He had a goatee which he trimmed from time to time.

"How is she?" asked Draco.

Harry sighed. He glanced at the door to the ward that houses Fleur. Turning back to Draco, he replied, "She'll be fine."

Draco nodded in understanding. "Yeah, she will be. Forgive me for not attending to her. I don't do well with veelas."

Harry chuckled at this. "Understandable. You know what Fleur said before we brought her here? She wants only Cassy to treat her and no one else. Male healers would only be a nuisance. Female healers would be jealous. Those were her exact words, mind you."

Draco laughed. "Yeah, I can see that happening. I am still amazed that you got her, you know. So anyway, are you going to dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

Together they headed to the hospital's café. Harry gave Draco a simple rundown of what really happened during dinner. The dinner was brief, however. Harry was eager to get back to Fleur.

"Are you going back home tonight, Draco?" asked Harry once they reached the entrance to Fleur's ward.

Draco smiled at this. "But I'm already at home, Harry. Good night." He then took leave after shaking Harry's hand.

Harry shook his head as he watched Draco's receding back. That was always Draco's answer whenever he asked the question.

That night Harry didn't sleep. He spent the whole night looking at Fleur, marveling at her beauty and wondering for how much longer that beauty would continue to grace his life.

They left the hospital early in the morning.

Time is running short.

Present…

That night, Fleur started to have breathing difficulties. Harry quickly administered the potion prepared by Cassandra to her but her condition did not improve. Her breathing kept getting worse until at one point, she literally had to breathe through her mouth. Her chest heaved with every laborious breath she took.

Harry knew that the time had come. He quietly asked his children, their spouse, and his grandchildren, to gather inside the bedroom he shared with Fleur. Both Victoire and Dominique were silently crying. Louis, their only son, didn't cry but traces of sadness lingered on his face as his eyes transfixed on his mother.

Harry sat beside Fleur on the bed. Slowly but lovingly, he cradled her head.

Fleur's eyes fluttered open. Her eyes found him and despite her condition, her lips managed to form a smile.

"Harry."

Her voice was still soft, just like the day the first time he heard her voice. Properly, of course. It was right after he 'saved' Gabrielle. But now, that beautiful voice had fragilities inside it.

Harry forced a smile. "Everything is going to be fine, honey. You're going to be fine."

Fleur smiled further. "You're always the more optimistic one, Harry. That is one of the things that I like about you. But one day, you'll learn not to speak things that have no truth in them."

"Fleur I-…"

"We both know this is coming. I am ready," said Fleur softly.

Harry didn't say anything.

With much difficulty, Fleur turned to look at her children. Her hand reached out to them. Victoire was the first to grab it. The other immediately moved closer to her.

Fleur's bright blue eyes traveled between the three of her children. She could see tears lining up the cheeks of both her daughters. Her only son didn't cry, but she knew he was on the verge.

"Don't cry."

Victoire looked up. "Maman?"

Fleur croaked up a smile. "Don't cry for me, my love. This is but a temporary farewell. I will be going home where your grandmother and grandfather are already waiting for me. And someday, you will be home too and I shall be waiting for the day all of us together once again."

Both Victoire and Dominique sobbed even harder. Louis had traces of tears lining his cheek.

"Until that time my love, be strong for your children. Be strong for your loved ones. Be strong for your father. Promise to me that you will endure all the pain and suffering of this world with your head held high, just like your father and I did."

It took a while, but Victoire, Dominique, and Louis finally nodded.

Fleur smiled further. "Thank you," she softly said, not once her eyes waver from her children. "Thank you for being such wonderful children. Thank you for being the light of my stars that shine through the night. Thank you for all the happiness and the love all of you have given me. I hope that I have been a good mother and I hope that everything that I did will be enough in your eyes. Forgive me for not being able to do more."

Nobody said anything. Her daughters continued to cry. Harry had to look away. He did not want Fleur to see him failing to conceal his own despair. He tried very hard to fight back his tears. He was failing.

"Now," Fleur's voice was heard once again, "There's something that I need to say to your father before I go. Could you-?"

Luckily her children understood. They each gave her one last tearful kiss and hugged her very tightly before filing out of the room.

The door clicked to a close. Harry retook his seat on the bed beside his wife and took her hand into his. His green eyes stared deeply into her blue ones.

"Harry?"

"Fleur?"

"There is no better place than to be at your side," said Fleur. "And I have never, ever regretted being with you."

Harry smiled at this. "I am lucky. And honored that you agreed."

"The honor is mine and I am the one who's lucky," she said softly. "Harry, I have loved you for the past 70 years and if given the chance, I will gladly do it all over again. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being a good friend and a good father to our children. I truly can't ask for more."

"I tried my best, honey," said Harry as he continued to caress his wife's hand.

"Indeed you have," said Fleur. "And the best is what you have always given me. I am so proud of you, Harry."

Harry said nothing.

Fleur took the advantage to continue. "Harry, there are so many things I want to say to you. So many things I want to tell you, but I'm going to wait until we're together again." At this point, her face took on an angelic quality like she was heaven-sent as she spoke the last words Harry knew he would hear from her on this earth. "With you, the spring would forever be in bloom and whenever we're apart, it would be the winter in my heart."

Harry's body began to quake as he tried with all his might to stop the tears that were coming.

"Harry," said Fleur. "You know where I'll be waiting. I love you, Harry."

"I love you, sweetheart," said Harry.

"Kiss me."

It was her last wish and Harry dutifully obliged. He bent down and kissed his wife's lip for one last time.

As if on cue, Fleur's breathing began to slow down and moments later, she drew her last breath. Her eyes were completely shut and a small smile concocted on her lips. She was finally at peace.

And Harry continued to hold her throughout the night, weeping for the beacon of his life that had extinguished forever.

Godric Hollow cemetery, eight days later...

Fleur Isabelle Potter nee Delacour

1977 - 2072

"With you, the spring would forever be in bloom and whenever we're apart, it would be the winter in my heart."

It was five days after the funeral and for five days straight, Harry never failed to show up at his wife's grave. The funeral was a simple affair, attended only by a few. Cassandra and Draco were among them. Hermione, Ron, and many others passed away many years ago. Harry and Draco were the only ones of their generations still alive.

Fleur was laid to rest beside the grave of his parents and every day he would gaze at the tombstone that decorated Fleur's grave for hours and silently wept. His tears continued to fall but he never made any effort to wipe it off. It was strange. He was standing close to her and yet he could not see her. But he knew that Fleur was sleeping peacefully beneath the snow, not knowing that her husband stood so near. At this moment, the sadness completely engulfed him and Harry truly wished that he was sleeping under the snow with her.

Two weeks later, Draco came to visit him at Godric's Hollow. This was his first-ever visit to Harry's house. It wasn't that he didn't want to visit before. It's just that he has a feeling that Harry's wife may not like him. That feeling was confirmed by Harry. Fleur did never like Draco.

He commented on how lovely Harry's house was. Harry replied that the Manor would probably be a lot better than his house. Draco scoffed at that statement. "I much rather have this than that Manor, to be honest," he said.

Initially, they would have tea and chat inside Harry's reading room but Draco had another idea. Instead, Draco invited him for a stroll in the village.

"If you're up to it," he said. "If not, we can just stay here."

Harry accepted his invitation.

Along the lane within the village they walked, passing many houses and beautiful gardens. They talked about a lot of things while on their way to the park which was situated at the edge of the village. They took one of the vacant benches when they arrived.

It was late afternoon. The sun was shining softly. The weather was mild. Many of the villagers were spending the afternoon in the park. Many of them greeted Harry as they walked past.

They both sat in silence for the first few minutes. Draco in particular was drinking in the scenery.

"This is nice," he began. "Harry, I want to apologize."

"For what?" asked Harry.

"For my past. For everything that I did. To you and everyone else."

"I thought we've already gone through this," said Harry, shaking his head. "I told you, you did good. You did great. You didn't go through the same mistakes some of your friends did. You redeemed yourself with all your work at the hospital. You saved a lot of lives and you also kinda saved my life back then as well, you remember that?"

"If only everyone else thought the way you do," said Draco softly. "If only everyone else is as forgiving as you. You know I don't have any friends apart from you. I don't even have a family. You know I slept at the hospital for the past many years, never wanting or daring to go back to my house. You know I never go back to my house since my mother died. Evil things once lived there and I don't want to be a part of it. People say I will pay for what I did and still, I keep on paying. Not that I have any other choices. I regret everything. I wish I could turn back time. I wish I was a better person. I wish someone would love me the way I would love her. But it's too late for all of that, isn't it?"

At this point, Harry felt odd. Draco to his eyes, was acting strangely. He put his hand on Draco's shoulder and asked, "What this is all about, Draco? Why are you saying these?"

But Draco shook his head. "Nothing," he said, forcing a smile. "It's just nothing. Just an old person rambling."

"Well, you had me worried for a moment," said Harry.

Draco chuckled. "Sorry. Don't worry about it, Harry. Like I said, just an old man rambling. Just forget about it. Let us enjoy the scenery. After all, the sun is setting. It would be a shame to miss it."

Draco returned to London that night.

The next morning Harry received the news. Draco died in his sleep that night.

Harry was the only attendee at Draco's funeral. He was buried next to his mother and father.

Draco's passing brought a grim realization to him. He was the only one left. Everyone else had gone.

Many days later…

That day was the same as before. That morning, like every other morning before it, he walked three miles from his house towards the cemetery. Luckily for him despite his age, he was still very fit so the long walk was a breeze for him. This time, he placed a wreath of white roses instead of the usual red on Fleur's grave. He had no idea why he did that. It's just that he felt he wanted to do it that day. And like every day before, he would stand beside Fleur's grave for hours.

That night, Louis came into his bedroom. After their mother's death, all of them took turns to look after him. Harry didn't like to bother his children, knowing that they'd have other priorities. But like always,

his children insisted. Fleur certainly did her job well. None of their children neglected their parents.

They chatted for a few minutes and upon feeling satisfied that everything was in order, Louis decided to take leave. He kissed his father's cheek and climbed into the fireplace. And emerald green fire

erupted and Louis promptly disappeared.

Harry went back to his bedroom. He turned off the lights and went to bed. As he lay on the bed, he began to reminisce everything that happened throughout his entire long life and just before sleep took over him, he turned to look at the empty space beside him.

His lips formed a smile. "Good night, love," he whispered.

But something happened just as he closed his eyes. A white blinding light engulfed his body and seconds later, he was gone.

He woke up and found himself on the train together with Ron and Hermione on their way to Hogwarts.

To be continued…