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Author: MyGinevra Story: The Hog's Head Rating: Teens Status: Completed Warning: None Reviews: 21 Words: 426,278
With everyone working in shifts, the grave was soon finished. Bill lifted out the last two diggers, Charlie and Ron, with Wingardium leviosa, and they all trudged back to the house. They saw Molly watching from an upstairs window; as they approached she turned away. The rest of the day was spent preparing the house and grounds for the funeral. Bill thought that there might be as many as three hundred people coming, and since they could not possibly fit all of them into the house, they decided to hope for good weather and keep everyone outside. Arthur was nervous about this decision, since he did not think it would be a good idea to use a weather charm in the event of rain; it might draw too much attention from the Muggles in the village. But they had no choice, so Bill put Ron to work using Geminio on an old umbrella that Charlie retrieved from the ghoul's attic. "Six years of an overpriced education, then one year of defeating the most powerful Dark wizard in the world, and this is what I end up doing," he grumbled. "Just because I scream at people sometimes doesn't mean I always have to get stuck with the worst jobs." He scowled at Bill. "Your job is vital, bro'," Bill patted him on the back. "Oh, and Percy will tell you when you have enough umbies. And just conjure one at a time. We don't want to be stuck with any extras." "It probably won't even rain!" Ron yelled at Bill's departing back, after telling him under his breath to perform a certain physically impossible act on himself. Ginny and Fleur took over the kitchen. They tried their best to keep Molly out, but when she kept on poking her head in and telling them which cooking spells to use, Fleur went and got Bill, and he stayed with his mum the rest of the day to keep her out of their hair. Charlie attacked the huge mass of clutter in the front yard, and for a while he was having a bad time of it. Most of the old, broken Muggle objects had been hexed, charmed, and jinxed so many times over the years by his father that the lingering magic was often hard to detect and would pop up at inopportune moments. An old automobile engine that had been in the yard for decades and had no apparent source of power, started running as soon as Charlie tried to levitate it. He was so startled that instead of floating gracefully out of sight behind the old broom shed, it zoomed loudly out the gate and down the lane. It might have kept on going except that Hermione happened to spot it just before it disappeared around the curve, and she managed to hit it with Finite. Charlie promptly drafted her into the cleanup operation, and the yard was soon cleared. The rest of the family marveled; no one remembered ever seeing it so pristine. "That was a lot more trouble than dragons," Charlie muttered to Hermione. Percy took charge of the funeral notices and seating arrangements. He spent all afternoon owling the Ministry workers they expected to show up, plus merchants from Diagon Alley, joke suppliers and manufacturers, Hogwarts staff, Fred's former classmates, and even some of his foreign contacts. Since Hermes, Errol, and Pigwidgeon had no hope of handling even part of the load, he Apparated into Diagon Alley and rented a dozen fast owls from Eeylops. He returned to the Burrow with them — Errol was indignant when he saw them — and soon had an efficient system set up whereby, as soon as an owl returned with a response, another notice was ready for it. He ran his operation from a table next to the garden, but soon Molly came out and made him move farther from the house; the owls were perching on the roof and making a mess. George retreated to his room. Ginny went looking for him after no one had seen him for an hour, and she found him sitting on the floor surrounded by cartons of surplus Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes items, with their contents scattered around him. He refused to tell her what he was doing, and Ginny decided that she'd better not tell either her parents or any of her brothers what she had seen. When the door to George's room closed behind her, she heard the squelching sound of a Colloportus charm sealing it. Harry wanted to help, but no one would let him. First, Fleur pushed him out of the kitchen when he went there simply to be with Ginny. Then he accidentally switched two invitations out of order on Percy's master list, and he was told rather officiously that his services were no longer required. By the time he went out into the front yard it was almost completely cleared, and when Hermione told him to go clean out the spiders from the old shed, he looked at her blankly. "How?" he said. "Your wand, Harry, your wand. Honestly," she clucked. Harry gave her a sour look and went back into the parlor. He found Bill and Mrs. Weasley sitting on the sofa looking through an old photo album. Molly was crying and laughing at the same time. Harry sat down with them. There were old photos of the children, and Molly sighed as she peered at each one. The ones of Ginny caught Harry's eye; he saw a mischievous little girl looking back at him, and occasionally there was one with that blazing look that he would never grow tired of. Molly smiled at his reaction. "You know, I don't recall her pictures being quite so animated before, Harry. Here, look, she's winking at you in this one. I'm sure she never did that before." Molly handed him the album and pointed to a picture of Ginny sitting in a swing hanging from a tree; she looked to be about six years old, and was wearing shorts and a tee–shirt with the words "I'm Magical" inside a large heart–shaped design. She had a big grin, and waved as the swing went back and forth. Harry couldn't take his eyes from it. Molly dabbed at the corner of her own eyes, and put her hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, I want you to know that I'm so glad you're here. It's a huge comfort to Ginny. And to all of us." She looked at Bill, who grinned, and then she patted Harry's arm again. Harry turned the page of the album. There were pictures of Ron and Percy, but before he could get a good look at them there was a loud thud and two shrieks from the kitchen. "Mum, help!" came Ginny's cry, and before Bill could stop her, Molly shot out of the parlor and was on her way to the rescue. Harry flipped through a few more pages, looking at photos of the Weasley family on vacation, around the Burrow, in Arthur's cramped office at the Ministry of Magic, and at Hogwarts. The children were always laughing and had their arms around each other; the Hogwarts pictures showed Quidditch teams and graduations, with Arthur and Molly — the proud parents — standing nearby or hugging someone. Ginny was in most of them, always smiling and hamming it up for the camera. Bill watched Harry's face. "You have nothing like this, do you?" he asked. Harry shook his head. "I've been talking to Fleur," Bill continued, "and we'd like to have you and Ginny come stay with us at Shell Cottage for a week or two after the funeral. There's enough room, as you know." Harry nodded; he suddenly had trouble finding his voice. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, that would be nice. I'd like to do that. Did you ask Ginny yet?" "No, I haven't had a chance. But it's okay with Mum and Dad. She was cooped up here and at Muriel's for two months, and she's never been to the Cottage. I know she loves the sea." Harry didn't get a chance to talk to Ginny before dinner; it took quite a while to remove the congealed bread pudding from the ceiling. The kitchen table was laden with the dishes and serving utensils for tomorrow, so they ate outside next to the garden. Ginny was busy bringing food in and out, so she didn't have time for conversation. After dinner Harry and Ginny walked down the lane to the village. Harry had never been in Ottery St. Catchpole, and they wandered down the streets and into the village square. Ginny mentioned Bill and Fleur's invitation. "I'm not really sure I want to go," she said. "I don't want to leave Mum alone. And I don't think George is planning to go back to the shop yet. I feel funny about leaving him right after the funeral." Harry was disappointed. He had wanted to go back to see Dobby's grave, as well as spend time with Ginny away from the constant buzz of her family. But mostly he just wanted to be with her, so if it had to be at the Burrow, then that would be fine. "Maybe I'll just go for a few hours by myself. I kind of wanted to visit Dobby's grave," he said. "Oh." Ginny hadn't thought of the grave. "Well, I'll come with you, if you want." Harry took her hand. "I'd really like that. I miss him." They walked back to the Burrow hand in hand. When they got there they found Lee Jordan in the parlor talking with George, Bill, and Charlie. They greeted him and then went out back where Hermione and Ron were sitting at the table that Percy had used as headquarters for his owl operation. "We're going up to London after the funeral," Hermione announced. "George said we could stay in the flat over the shop. Ron's going to start applying for jobs at the Ministry, and I have to see someone at the Institute." "The what?" asked Harry as he conjured two more chairs; Ginny had been about to do it but her father, who was sitting under a peach tree behind the garden with Molly, called out and warned her not to do magic; she pouted as she put her wand away. "The Arithmancy Institute," said Hermione, "They owled me with an invitation to come in for an interview. They have an intern program that I've been interested in for a while. It would be a fabulous place to work. They do the most advanced research in the world there." Harry glanced at Ron. "Yeah," Ron said. "I'm hoping Dad can get me into the Games and Sports Department, but anything would be okay. I just want to get away." Suddenly Harry felt a wave of sympathy for him. Ron was the baby, as far as most of his family was concerned. Ginny might be the youngest, but she was also special because she was the only girl. Ron was just the brat, always tagging along, always the butt of insults and teasing. "That's brilliant, Ron," he said, "and living in Diagon Alley, too! That'll be great." "Yeah, it'll be good to get off on my own. This family can be a load, if you know what I mean." "I do know what you mean, Ron," Ginny said and leaned across the table and took his hand. She looked at Harry. "Maybe we all need to get away for a while. Or at least a week or two," she smiled. Later, after it got dark, Harry and Ginny strolled down the lane again; Ginny didn't want to walk in the back where the open grave was. It was peaceful and quiet except for insects chirping and frogs croaking. It had gotten cooler and they were wearing light jackets; Harry had borrowed an old one of Ron's that fit him. "What made you change your mind about Shell Cottage?" Harry asked as they looked up at the stars. "I was thinking about Dobby, and I guess I didn't realize how important that was to you. And I've never been to the Cottage. Maybe Fleur and I could even become friends." She chuckled and leaned her back against him and he put his arms around her. "Ron's going off also made me think. If Mum and Dad said it was okay for me to go, then they must figure that they'll be all right." She turned to face him, and he saw tears on her face. "I don't usually cry this much, you know. I think maybe we won't be so sad if we're someplace else for a bit. I think Fred would want us to be a little happy, don't you?" She played with the collar of his jacket. "I also got a little annoyed at Dad when he told me not to use magic. I mean, who cares? I bet there's no one at the Ministry even bothering with Traces right now." She chuckled again despite the tears on her face. "We'll come back," Harry stroked her hair as she put her head on his chest. "We'll spend the summer here, if your folks will let me stay, and —" Ginny interrupted him with a laugh. "You must be joking. Mum's already planning how to fatten you up." "That sounds like the summer of my dreams," Harry grinned. "But that reminds me, there's something else I wanted to tell you. Remember what you asked about Professor Flitwick, and how could he teach me next year?" Ginny nodded expectantly. "Well," Harry said slowly, "I've decided to live in Hogsmeade when you go back to school." Ginny's mouth fell open. "How can you do that?" "That will be a surprise. You'll find out all about it on your birthday when you'll be old enough to know things like that." Ginny smacked him on his chest. "You're mean! Why can't you tell me now?" She tried to sound petulant but she couldn't hide the light in her eyes. "I knew you'd see it my way." Harry grabbed her hand and kissed it before she could hit him again. "It's going to be your birthday present." Now she was smiling. "You'll be living in Hogsmeade... Oh, Harry, that'll be brilliant! Seventh–years can go in on weekends whenever they want. How will I get any school work done?" "I'll help you," Harry laughed. He put his arm around her and they walked back to the Burrow. * * * * Ron's weather forecast held, and the day of he funeral was like the day before, clear with a few clouds and not too warm. Wizards and witches started arriving early; there were going to be more funerals around the land, and Fred Weasley's was the first of the day. Percy greeted the arrivals at the front gate as they Apparated or Portkeyed in, or were dropped off by Muggle taxis whose drivers left as quickly as they could turn around; the sight of people appearing out of nowhere seemed to upset them. Yesterday's work of preparation was no longer there to distract the family, and the Weasley household — including Aunt Muriel who arrived before sunrise — moved moodily around the Burrow, eating, dressing, preparing themselves. Molly and Ginny already had red and teary eyes. Arthur did not look very steady and he kept staring at the coffin that was now resting on trestles near the back door. The rest of his sons stood in the parlor speaking quietly to each other. When Harry walked in, George came over to him; he was somber but calm. "Harry, I'd like you to be a pallbearer. We're not using any magic, mostly." "Oh, sure." Harry was surprised; Ginny had told him that her five brothers and Lee would carry the coffin, so he never expected to be asked. "Is there room for seven?" "Well, Lee won't be a pallbearer. I've asked him to help in other ways." Harry nodded, and thought about what Ginny had told him she had seen in George's room yesterday. Harry was sure it would be memorable, whatever it was. Percy finally came in and announced that the number of arrivals had reached the ninety–five percent threshold of expected attendees — he never explained why that number was a threshold — and that, given the tight schedule of the funerals planned for the day, they should begin. They all proceeded to the back door. Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, and Harry lifted the coffin and carried it out. Arthur, Molly, and Ginny followed; Molly was between them and they each held her arm. Behind them came Fleur and Aunt Muriel. Even in black mourning robes Fleur was stunning; sadness seemed to make her even more beautiful. Her silver hair streamed down her back and the tears that flowed down her face glistened like rivers or diamonds. They walked slowly past the garden, and a hush fell over the gathering that were seated in chairs placed in rows that faced the grave. Harry saw dozens of people he knew or recognized, some from the Ministry, some from Diagon Alley, and many from Hogwarts. All of the staff were there, and even, to Harry's utter astonishment, Argus Filch. Neville was sitting between his Gran and a Hufflepuff girl; a wizard and a witch who appeared to be her parents sat next to her. Luna and her father were there. Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, already in tears, sat with Oliver Wood and other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch teams who had played with Fred. There were many students from other Houses, wearing their school robes. He saw Madame Malkin, old Ollivander, even Mr. Borgin, who gazed at Harry with an impassive, inscrutable expression. Maybe, thought Harry, this purveyor of Dark objects believed that his business was going to suffer because so many of his best customers were either dead or in prison thanks to him. Many people stared at Harry and whispered to their neighbors as he walked slowly down the center aisle with the coffin. He stopped looking around and fixed his eyes on the back of Ron's head. He also heard weeping from all sides, but he was mostly aware of the uninhibited sobs coming from Molly and Ginny behind him. His own eyes began to fill, and soon he felt his own tears running down his face. They came to the grave. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood there, looking more imposing and magnificent than Harry had ever seen him; he was wearing formal black robes and a high wizard's hat. He walked to Molly and took her hands, then Arthur's, and then greeted Ginny, Fleur, and Aunt Muriel. The pallbearers set the coffin down next to the open grave. Harry was unsure what to do next, so he followed Ron's lead and moved behind the grave and stood with Fred's brothers facing the seats. Hermione was in the front row; she had her hand to her face and was sobbing loudly. At the end of the row behind her was Hagrid, also bawling. All the other dozen or so seats in that row were taken by a bereft and devastated group of young witches wearing the shop uniform of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Kingsley helped Molly, Arthur, and Aunt Muriel sit in chairs at the side of the grave; Ginny and Fleur sat next to them. Then the Minister of Magic stepped in front of Fred's coffin, and silence fell. He began speaking, standing still but gesturing occasionally with his hands and arms. "Fred Weasley fought for his family, for freedom, for life. You'll notice that I did not say that he died for any of those things, because I don' believe that. He wanted to fight, oh yes, he wanted to fight, but don't tell me that he sacrificed his life. I knew him too well to believe that. "He was willing to risk injury or death, but he did not want to offer up his life as a sacrifice. Do not insult him or what he fought for by believing that, at the instant before he was murdered, he was happy to be giving up his life for a cause or even for his family. "He joined the battle against evil and malice because of what he believed in, because his mother and father, his brothers and his sister, and he himself, were a family that lived for love and idealism. They strived always for everything that is good and worthwhile in this world. Fred was fiercely loyal to his family, but not blindly. Blind loyalty to a cause or to a family or to a person or to a country is false loyalty. Do you think that the foulest man or woman who attacked Hogwarts was anything but loyal to the cause of darkness? That kind of loyalty led to acts of the most awful cruelty. No, if we give our loyalty, we must be loyal as Fred was. We must decide in our hearts what is good and beautiful, and then give our loyalty and every ounce of our strength to the good and the beauty that our hearts have shown us. "If you want to honor a life that was full of love and joy and a spirit that was willing to fight for love and joy, then this is what you must do. You must look inside yourself and find one thing, one thing that you could have done differently that would have made it harder for evil to come to such power that it could take the life of Fred Weasley. Even those of us who did fight alongside him, who lost loved ones, who were injured or even maimed, we also must look inside ourselves to find that one thing that would have made a difference. "The world is what we make it. To honor Fred we must make a world where the values that he fought for will triumph. And then there will be no more funerals like this one." When Kingsley stopped the only sounds were that of weeping; a few people shifted in their chairs. The Minister turned and nodded to Molly and Arthur, then to the brothers standing behind the grave. With his back to the seats he took out his wand, flicked it, and the coffin rose, then descended into the grave. Harry watched it disappear, and he saw in his mind the body of Fred, inanimate, cold, lying inside it in the dark. He felt Ron shaking next to him, and he saw Ginny and her parents holding each other. He wiped the tears from his own face with his hand. George stepped forward, a spade in his hand. He dug into the mound of earth, lifted it into the air above the grave, and turned it over. The soil dropped very slowly into the grave and hit the coffin with a rattling sound. For a moment afterward all was silent. A low rumble, then a louder roar came from the direction of the house. People in the seats turned their heads; the family around the grave all looked up; Harry braced himself. A huge flock of white birds rose over the Burrow; there were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Each one trailed a colored streamer, like a small banner. As they climbed into the sky, the birds began to swirl and the banners to merge. The flock climbed and then moved toward the grave, and as the thousands of birds hovered above, a gigantic image of Fred Weasley formed from the streamers. He was grinning and holding a firecracker. First gasps, then shouts, then cheers rang out. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were on their feet, jumping up and down and screaming. Hagrid had knocked over all the chairs around him as he also leaped up. The Wheezes witches were picking themselves off the ground and pointing at the image, shrieking at the tops of their lungs. Harry looked at the family. Ginny and her mother both had their hands to their faces in identical gestures. Ginny was laughing; Molly's mouth and eyes were wide open and she looked to be almost in shock. Arthur peered up with a small smile on his face. Fleur was pointing at the image and laughing like Ginny, but Aunt Muriel was glaring at it as though she wanted to shoot it down. Ron nudged Harry. "Great sendoff, huh? Promise you'll do me like that." "Deal and ditto," said Harry. "Just leave off the scar." Charlie and Bill were clapping George on his back. Only Percy — along with Aunt Muriel — disapproved, but when Kingsley turned to George and lifted his thumb upward, Percy's look softened. George himself gazed up in silence. Then he smiled briefly at his parents, dug another shovelful of earth and dropped it again into the grave. When it hit the coffin the image and the streamers vanished with a thundering "whoosh!" and the flock of white birds soared off into the sky, turning and swirling like the current in a river running over rocks. The crowd fell silent once more. George stepped back, waved his wand, and the pile of earth fell into the grave and formed a perfect mound over it. There was another rushing sound, and a gray stone slab came hurtling through the sky from the Burrow, soared high into the air, then fell straight into the ground at the head of the grave. George pointed his wand and these words were chiseled into it: Fred Weasley Again there was silence for a few minutes, punctuated by the sounds of crying and noses being blown. Finally, George went to his parents and hugged them, then came around to the front of the grave, shook Kingsley's hand, and started back down the aisle. Arthur and Molly stood — Molly a little unsteadily — and followed him. The brothers filed past the grave and Bill took Fleur's hand, Charlie and Percy took Aunt Muriel's arms — she glared at them — and Ron walked to Hermione and took her arm and they went after the others. Ginny had waited in her seat; she and Harry were the only ones left at the grave, except for Kingsley who was waiting for them to leave. Harry felt scores of people watching him as he walked to Ginny and took her hand. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, but they also had a strange look. She gripped his hand tightly, then took his arm. They nodded to Kingsley and started back down the aisle. There were unabashed stares and not so quiet whispers around them. Harry tried to ignore them, and he sped up slightly, wanting to get away from the attention. But Ginny held him back and slowed down. Harry peeked at her from the corner of his eye; her head was high and her eyes were blazing. She turned to him, and Harry saw, mingled with grief, a radiant happiness that startled him so much that he almost stumbled. He put his hand on hers and their fingers intertwined. They walked on.
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