|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: GhostWriter Story: Sunrise Rating: Everyone Setting: Post-DH Status: WIP Reviews: 17 Words: 37,180
Disclaimer: I own none of this; more's the pity, as I could use the money! The Potterverse, in all its rich detail, belongs to J.K. Rowling, who has been gracious enough to allow geeks like me to play with it online. * Harry panted heavily as he moved quickly through the swirling mist that surrounded him. He'd panicked when he'd first awoken in the midst of the fog, fearing that Dementors must be nearby. But as he'd moved about, he'd realized that the mist was neither cold nor warm, nor even wet. It simply seemed to be the only thing that existed in a great empty abyss. "No!" he muttered to himself as he continued moving about randomly in a desperate effort to locate a familiar person or landmark. "No, I didn't choose to take the train. I'm not ready." He stopped and turned in a circle – another futile effort to spot a way out of this nothingness. He reached up to rub his hands across his eyes and realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He looked up again and saw a pair of dim shapes approaching him through the fog. He reached for his wand and cursed softly when he realized it was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the mist parted like a curtain, and Harry gasped as the two figures came into clear view. The young man wasn't much older than he – and had the same messy raven-coloured hair and lopsided grin. The young woman had shoulder-length auburn hair. Harry stared at her, once more gazing hungrily into a pair of emerald-green eyes identical to his. The couple approached him silently, but with wide smiles on their faces. Lily Potter reached out to her son. Harry closed his eyes and tensed slightly, expecting to feel an icy touch akin to that of a ghost. Instead, a warm hand caressed his cheek "We couldn't be prouder of you," Lily whispered to her son as she drew him into a gentle embrace. Harry simply let himself go and relaxed in his mother's arms, as he had longed to do all of his life. How much time passed, he couldn't say. At last, James Potter gave a loud cough. "Budge up Lily and let me get a look at him." Harry pulled away from his mother, and turned to face his father. James reached out and firmly shook his hand before pulling him into a rib-cracking, back-pounding hug. "Not one in a million wizards has the kind of courage you showed," he said, pulling back to get a better look at Harry. Harry felt his face flush. "No more than what the two of you showed… that night," he said softly, gazing at his feet. "All the difference in the world," Lily replied sharply, causing Harry to suddenly look up. "It was reflexive. We didn't have any time to plan… all we could do was react. But you… you willingly walked toward death to protect others" Harry's chest constricted as tears began to slide down Lily's cheeks. "Please… don't," he said, reaching to wipe them away. "It's okay. Everything's fine now. I just wish… I-I miss you both so much." Lily caught his hand in hers, kissed it gently and held it to her face, as James pulled both of them close. Harry swallowed hard and continued. "I'm sorry you had to die. I-I wish I could stay here with you." But James merely shook his head. "No, Harry," he replied. "Much as we wish you could, it would be selfish for us – and for you – if you stayed here. You've got a family waiting for you back on the other side. They need you, especially that cute little red-head." Harry looked up to see his father flashing him a knowing grin. Lily snorted and wiped her eyes before gently elbowing her husband in the ribs. "You're such a perv sometimes. You're old enough to be her father." She then turned back to Harry. "Go. Live a happy life, and always be a good boy." James smiled and squeezed his son's shoulder. "It's time for you to get back." Harry's eyes began to sting at the thought of leaving his parents yet again. "Will… will I ever see you again?" he asked haltingly. Lily smiled, her eyes glistening again. "Of course you will, darling. We're part of you. We're with you always," she said, placing a hand over his heart. Harry nodded and drew her in for one last hug. Harry stepped back. Already the thick, white mist was surrounding their parents – obscuring their forms from his sight. "Goodbye, Harry," James called. "We'll see you again… many, many decades from now." A sudden brightness caused Harry to slowly open his eyes. Warm, golden sunlight was pouring in through the bedroom window. Harry took a deep breath and tried to orient himself. Had all of what he'd seen just been a dream? Or had his parents truly visited him? He lay in bed for quite some time trying to figure it all out, wishing for the hundredth time that Dumbledore was nearby to provide some answers. Whatever the event had been – dream or out-of-body experience – it gave him a sense of contentment. A chapter of his life had now come full circle – he'd finally had the goodbye with his parents that he'd needed for so long. At last he reached for his glasses and watch on the bedside table. He was surprised to see that it was well after nine o'clock. The chaos that characterized the Burrow usually made it impossible to sleep this late, never mind Mrs. Weasley's customary demand that everyone rise and shine. Harry yawned, stretched luxuriously and lay back on his pillow, letting his mind drift through the previous night. Returning the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's tomb gave him peace about both his mentor's passing and the fight against Voldemort. The war truly was over now, though Harry made a mental note to ask Bill about placing additional wards around the tomb – just in case anyone ever felt the urge to try and unlock its secrets. Harry smiled as he remembered their departure from Hogwarts, clinging tightly to one another. They'd appeared with a soft pop outside the Burrow's gate. The waxing moon was riding high in the sky, bathing the yard in pale light that cast deep shadows. The foursome stood huddled together for a moment before Harry pulled the Cloak off of them. Silently, they entered the garden and headed for the back door. Suddenly Harry realized that only he and Ginny were stepping onto the porch. Ron had Hermione firmly by the hand and was leading her back towards the woods behind garden. "Hey, wait a minute," Harry called softly. "What's up? Where are you going?" Ron and Hermione paused. "Oh, yeah," Ron replied, sounding uncomfortable. "We'll catch up with the two of you later. Just let Mum know we're back, okay?" Ron then drew his wand. "Accio Cloak!" And Harry felt the Invisibility Cloak suddenly fly off of his arm and into Ron's outstretched hand. "Hey!" "You won't mind if we borrow this for a bit, will you, mate?" Ron called. "Thanks!" And with a sudden cheeky grin, he grabbed Hermione's hand again, and the two of them melted into the shadows. Harry felt a bit irritated. He would never begrudge his best friends their quality time, especially given how long it had taken them to finally acknowledge their feelings for each other. Still, he was beginning to feel a bit the odd-man-out. "Merlin," he grumbled. "You'd think those two could give it a bit of a rest. They spent the whole afternoon hidden away together." His musings were interrupted by Ginny grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him close to her. "What are you complaining about, Mr. Potter?" she said in a husky voice, her face only centimeters away from his. Harry swallowed very hard, unable to speak as his eyes drank in the sight of her pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight. "N-Nothing," he choked out at last. "I didn't think so," Ginny whispered, parting her lips and pressing them firmly to his. All thoughts of Ron and Hermione vanished as he slipped his arms around Ginny and pulled her to him as tightly as he could. The kiss grew in passion, and Harry reveled in gently running his fingers through her silky hair. At last they broke apart. "That was… amazing," he whispered. "There's more where that came from," Ginny replied, a seductive look spreading over her face. Harry gulped again then glanced over his shoulder at the house. "Why don't I just let your folks know that we're back, then we can…" But Ginny had placed her hands on his cheeks and turned his face back to her. "By my reckoning, we have over an hour before curfew," she said softly. "Don't let's waste it, yeah?" Harry nodded fervently, unable to speak. "I'm glad you see things my way," Ginny said, smiling and leading him over to a bench hidden in shadows, which they had claimed the night before... Harry glanced across the room, and the smile vanished from his face at the sight of George's empty bed. Today was going to be one of the worst days of his – of all their lives. Today, they would have to say goodbye to Fred. Harry sighed and sat up. He rummaged in the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt, and then padded downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was seated at the kitchen table, along with Charlie, Percy and Ginny. There was no sign of Ron and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley threw Harry a weak smile. He immediately crossed the room, bent down and gave her a tight hug. "Morning," he whispered. "Are you okay?" He felt her nod slowly. When he drew back, her eyes were watery, but she gave him another smile. "Did you sleep all right, Harry, dear?" she asked. Harry nodded in reply and took a seat next to Ginny. He glanced over at the countertop and was surprised to see that it was heaped with a variety of dishes and picnic baskets, all of them overflowing with food. "What's all this?" he asked, gesturing to the mountain of food. "Family and friends have been sending it over all morning," Ginny replied. "Kreacher's been having a devil of a time finding space to store it all in the cold pantry." At the mention of his name, the wizened house-elf appeared at Harry's side bearing a plate of steaming eggs, bacon and potatoes. Harry accepted the food gratefully. "Thanks, Kreacher," he said. The elf bowed low. "Can I be of further service, Master Harry?" A sudden thought struck Harry and he turned to Mrs. Weasley. "With all of this food, do you think we're set today for meals?" he asked. Mrs. Weasley looked up from her cup of tea. "Yes," she said. "I'd say we've got enough here to feed this crew – even Ron – for at least a couple of days." Harry felt his heart lighten at Mrs. Weasley's stab at humor. He flashed her a wide grin, and was pleased when she smiled back – even if it didn't quite reach her eyes. Harry turned back to the waiting house-elf. "Kreacher," he said, "when you finish up in the kitchen this morning, why don't spend the day resting? You've helped here so much, you need to take care of yourself." Keacher froze. "Master Harry is displeased with Kreacher?" he asked. Seeking to head off a flood of tears, Harry spoke quickly. "No, no, Kreacher. I just want you to have the chance to rest. I want you to be well and to be happy." The elf still appeared poised for an emotional breakdown. "It would… please me very much," Harry added, "if you would spend the afternoon just resting. We'll take care of all of the other meals today." Kreacher's lips trembled, but he didn't collapse into a puddle of tears. "Kreacher has never had a master as kind as Master Harry," he croaked. "Thank you." He then trotted back into the kitchen to finish tidying up. As Harry turned to his breakfast, all of the other Weasleys stared at him in amazement, save Ginny, who leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. "That was very noble of you, Harry," she said softly. Harry just shook his head. "It's the right thing to do," he said. "All magical creatures deserve their dignity." Ginny slipped her arm around his shoulders as he dug into his meal. He chatted amiably with the others at the table, though the conversation had a strained quality to it. Just as Harry was beginning to wish for a little Firewhiskey to loosen everyone up, the stilted conversation was interrupted by a tapping at the kitchen window. Ginny rose and opened the window to admit a screech owl bearing the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. She paid the owl, which turned and swiftly flew back out the window. Ginny gazed at the front page, and a grin slowly spread across her face. "What's so funny?" asked Charlie. Ginny held up the paper, allowing them all a good look at the bold headline across the top: Skeeter Arrested, Charged as Illegal Animagus. Grins broke out all around the table and Ginny began to gleefully read aloud:
A sense of deep satisfaction swelled in Harry's chest. He glanced around the table and was surprised to notice that Percy's face appeared slightly flushed. Realization hit Harry with the force of a Stunning Spell. "They seem to have some really insightful people working at the Ministry these days, wouldn't you say, Percy?" he asked. Percy sat up straight in his chair, a deadpan expression on his face. "Yes," he replied. "A lot of eyes have been opened; a lot of attitudes have changed for the better." Ginny positively glowed at this. She wordlessly circled the table and planted a kiss on Percy's cheek before handing the paper to Charlie and returning to Harry's side. Harry smiled and shook his head as Charlie, with great relish, offered further details on Rita's disgrace. "I guess that's another one we owe Hermione," Harry softly told Ginny. He then glanced over at Mrs. Weasley and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Weasley? Is, uh… there anything we can do for you before… to get ready for…" Mrs. Weasley sadly shook her head. "No, dear. Everything's taken care of. Just having you all here is enough for now." A thought seemed to occur to her and she turned to Charlie. "Charlie, I would like to ask if we can use your room tonight. We may have some company after the service. You can set up a camp bed in Percy's room." "Sure, Mum," Charlie replied. Percy nodded as well. "I'll go up and make room for him." Before Percy could rise, Harry was struck by an inspiration and interrupted. "Charlie can bunk with George," he said. "I can move my stuff back into Ron's room and use the camp bed there." Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry. "There's no need to do that, dear. I think you'd be more comfortable where you are. Charlie and Percy won't mind sharing a room for one night." But Harry shook his head. "No, really," he said. "I don't mind. It'd give me a chance to catch up a bit with Ron." Charlie smirked. "Having to take drastic measures to get a chance to talk with Ronnie now?" he asked. "Not that you haven't been pretty distracted, based on that snogfest I saw between you and Gin last night in the garden." Harry's face turned scarlet, while Ginny's eyes narrowed and her hand moved toward the pocket that held her wand. Harry could have sworn he saw a hint of a grin on Percy's face, but he wasn't sticking around to find out. He stood abruptly. "I'll just go grab my stuff and move to Ron's room, yeah?" he said. "Hey, Gin, mind helping me?" And with that, he grabbed Ginny's hand and led her from the kitchen. . Harry hastily pulled Ginny up the stairs until she finally dug in her heels on the middle landing. "Honestly, Harry," she said, rolling her eyes. "You really do need to learn not to let my brothers take the mickey out of you so easily." Harry smiled sheepishly. "Besides," she said, leaning in closer to him, "what have you got to be embarrassed about?" Harry couldn't reply. Ginny planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Go on up and start getting your stuff together," she said, walking over to her closed bedroom door. "I'll be there in a minute." She nipped inside her bedroom, and Harry headed on up to the next floor and entered George's bedroom. He dumped his clothes from the bureau, and began making feeble attempts to fold them. Ginny was right, he mused, his wardrobe really was pretty pathetic at this point. The hems on most of his robes were ragged, the collars of his shirts were frayed and most of his jeans had holes in the knees. He sighed as he stared at the pitifully small collection of clothes. He really did need to go shopping. As he made another half-hearted effort to fold the clothes, a voice from behind made him start. "Oh, Harry," Ginny said, walking over to the bed and budging him out of the way. "You're completely hopeless when it comes to this kind of thing." She made short work of folding the clothes. "C'mon," she said, grabbing a handful of clothes and heading for the door. "Let's get you bunked in with Ron." Harry grabbed the remainder the clothes and followed her up stairs to Ron's room. The door was closed. Harry assumed Ron was still sleeping and was just about to suggest they could do this later, when a mischievous glint appeared in Ginny's eye. She threw open the door with a loud bang and walked into the room. "Morning, Ron," she began in a sing-song voice, but then stopped short. Harry peered past her and was stunned by what he saw. Ron and Hermione were kneeling on the rug, with their hands clasped and wands out. A large leather tome lay on the floor between them. For a split second, everyone froze. Then Ron leapt to his feet, swearing loudly. "Ginny, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Ever hear of knocking?" The expression on Ginny's face changed in an instant – from mortification to fury. "It's called payback, dear brother, or don't you remember your little intrusion from last summer?" she snapped. As the two siblings tore into each other – voices rising by the second – Hermione didn't say a word. Her face was scarlet with embarrassment. When she noticed Harry moving into the room and staring at the book, she slammed it shut and shoved it under Ron's bed. Ron and Ginny saw none of this, as they were now shouting at the top of their lungs. Their argument came to an abrupt halt as Molly Weasley's voice rang out. "What's going on up there?" Ron and Ginny glared silently at each other a few seconds before Ron answered. "Nothing, Mum. Ginny's just being a twit." Hermione looked appalled by her boyfriend's rudeness, and Harry winced as he saw Ginny's jaw clench. "Everything's all right now, Mum," Ginny called. "Ron's decided to stop being such an arse." "Watch your language, young lady," came the sharp reply. An awkward silence hung over the room. Harry shuffled over to the camp bed along the wall and unceremoniously dumped his meager belongings on it. "What are you ruddy well doing?" Ron barked, making Harry jump. "I'm, uh, going to be bunking with you for tonight," Harry replied. Seeing Ron's face reddening again, he hastily tried to smooth things over. "It's only temporary," he said. "Your mum thought we might have some additional guests this evening." "So don't I get any say in the matter?" Ron snapped sourly. Ginny turned to Hermione, who was slowly rising from the floor. "What were you two doing in here?" Ginny asked. Her question further set Ron off. "None of your business," he snarled. "Next time, think about knocking before you…" Seeking to diffuse the situation, Hermione interrupted. "It's all right, Ron," she said in an almost squeaky voice as she turned back to Ginny. "I-I was just practicing the spell I'll need to lift the memory charm I put on my parents. It's nothing really. I was just getting Ron to help me." Ginny smirked. "Oh, so you were practicing emptying Ron's head? That shouldn't have taken long." Harry cringed inwardly, awaiting another explosion from his best friend. Instead, Ron simply glared at his sister, raised his wand and vanished with a loud pop. "Nice attitude," Hermione snapped at Ginny. "Couldn't you just back off for once?" Harry started. Normally, Hermione never had a cross word for Ginny. Before Ginny could retort, Hermione, too, had vanished with a crack. Ginny stood in the middle of the room, open-mouthed. As she turned slowly to Harry, a myriad of emotions played across her face – shock, anger, and he noted, a deep sadness. Harry's heart ached for all of his friends, and he wished for the thousandth time that he could destroy their pain just as he had Riddle's cast-off soul fragments. After a few seconds, he reached out and took Ginny's hand. She seemed at a loss for words. "Harry, I…" she began, her voice quavering. Harry merely shook his head and stroked the back of her hand with thumb. "C'mon," he said quietly, leading her from the room. "Let's go fix this." They walked quickly down the stairs and strode through the kitchen, trying to avoid eye contact with Mrs. Weasley, Percy and Charlie. "What was going on up there?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, her voice regaining some of the fire it had lacked ever since the last battle. "Where's Ron? Is everything okay?" "Fine, fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied hurriedly. "We're just going out for a breath of air. Back shortly." And with that, he and Ginny exited the Burrow and began walking through the garden, across the paddock and towards the wooded area behind the apple orchard. Neither of them spoke, and Harry quickened his pace, forcing Ginny to trot in order to keep up. He wasn't consciously aware of the route he was taking, instead merely following his gut. At last they reached the glen near the brook, and there were Ron and Hermione standing beneath the large beech tree where the four of them had spent those pleasant hours the day Harry had awakened. Ron was leaning his head against the trunk, while Hermione stood behind him, her arms around his waist. Harry felt his face began to flush, as the feeling that he was intruding engulfed him. He wanted nothing more than to turn and quietly walk away, but he had to make things right. He couldn't stand the thought of them going to Fred's service bearing pent-up ill feelings. Harry coughed softly. Ron and Hermione both started, and turned to face him and Ginny. Harry hastily directed his gaze to the ground, not wanting to acknowledge the wetness of Ron's eyes, or the blotchiness of Hermione's cheeks. An awkward silence hung over the glade. At last, Ron broke the silence, an undercurrent of anger evident in his voice. "Look, if you've just come here to…" "No!" Harry interjected. "We just came to… I mean… Look, we're sorry that we burst in on you like that. I'm sorry we interrupted that… Memory Charm reversal you were practicing. We didn't mean to disturb you. And I'm sorry about springing the room rearrangement on you. Your mum said they were going to need some more space, and I just figured…" Harry trailed off, glancing at Ginny as he did so. She was smirking at his awkwardness, but quickly took matters in hand by crossing to her brother and giving him a hug. "Sorry to have upset you," she said softly. Ron hesitated for a moment and then awkwardly patted her back. But Ginny had already turned and was tightly hugging Hermione. Harry approached his best friend and squeezed his arm. "Sorry to have interrupted you again," he said. "But I just couldn't leave things like that before – before Fred's service." At the mention of his lost sibling, Ron's shoulders slumped. He leaned back against the beech tree and slid down the trunk until he was sitting at the base. Hermione sat down beside him, pulled his head into her lap and began gently running her fingers through his hair. Harry glanced at Ginny and took her hand. "We'll see you two later," he said, turning to leave. "Stay," Ron said quietly. Harry and Ginny both hesitated and glanced back. Ron's face bore a pleading expression. "Just stay. Please?" he said more forcefully. Harry walked back to the tree and sat down next to Hermione so that his shoulder bumped against hers. He spread his legs wide enough for Ginny to sit between them, and she gently leaned back against his chest. Harry began to idly play with the strands of her soft hair. None of them spoke for a long time. At last Ron once again broke the silence. "Sorry about blowing up like that," he said softly. "I dunno what's wrong with me these days. One minute I'm up, next minute I'm down. I'm grateful to be alive, but…" He trailed off and silence reigned again. "I just feel so, so…" "Angry," Harry supplied. Ron twisted in Hermione's lap and stared at his best friend. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I dunno why, but I do." "It's a perfectly natural reaction, Ron," Hermione said gently. "Someone you love – someone all of us love – has been taken away. It's not fair, and it makes you angry." Harry nodded slowly. "I felt the same way after Sirius died," he said. He felt Ginny growing tense in his arms and began to gently rub her shoulders in response. A few more beats of silence passed. "How do you do it, Harry?" Ron asked at last. "Do what?" "How do you manage the anger and the… emptiness?" Ron asked raising himself from Hermione's lap. "You lost more people in that bloody war than any of us. How do you keep your head on?" Harry's eyes began to sting, as he recalled his vision from the night before. That memory was a little close. Perhaps he'd share it at some point in the future. Instead, he pulled Ginny closer with his left arm, while reaching out his right hand and grasping Hermione's arm. "I have a very good family who take care of me," he said at last. He swallowed hard. "I-I can't tell you the pain ever completely goes away. But it becomes bearable after a while. You remember the good stuff." Harry leaned back against the tree and stared up at the sky. Ginny twisted in his lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid her head on his chest. After a long moment, Harry spoke again. "It helps to know that the people who go before us are watching over us," he said softly. "They all want us to be happy, especially someone like Fred." Ron gave a snort. "Yeah, I suppose so," he said, laying his head back in Hermione's lap. Another silence fell, this one far more comfortable. "What's your best memory of Fred?" Harry asked. "Either of you." Ginny sat up, a smile slowly curving her lips. "Helping Fred and George smuggle Skiving Snackboxes in and out of the house when Mum had her back turned," she said after a moment. "And, of course, there were the blackmailing opportunities that came from spying on them while they were developing their Wheezes." Ron twisted around to look at her and grinned. Harry glanced over at Ron. "What's your best memory of Fred?" he asked. The tall red-head didn't hesitate. "Fred and George's departure from Hogwarts, of course," he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "It was… wicked. They did everything all of wanted to do to old Toad Face, and they got some respect from Peeves. It was bloody brilliant!" Hermione didn't even chide Ron for his language as all of them began to chuckle at the memory. The four teens spent the next couple of hours sitting in the shade, swapping stories about Fred – laughing, and occasionally shedding a few tears. Harry was just thinking that it was time to head back to the house for lunch, when a flash of light entered the glen, and the familiar silver weasel spoke in Mr. Weasley's voice. "Lunch is ready, come on back." The animal then slowly faded away. Both couples rose and quietly began their trek back to the Burrow, slinging their arms around each other as they walked. A surprise awaited them as drew near to the house. A large white marquee had been set up in exactly the same spot used for Bill and Fleur's wedding the previous summer. A group of workers were busily setting up tables and chairs. Billowing steam and tantalizing aromas were drifting from what appeared to be an enormous open-air kitchen set up nearby. The four teens stared, speechless. Harry then turned to Ron. "Any idea…?" he began. "Haven't got a clue, mate," Ron interrupted. "C'mon, I'm sure we'll find out in a minute." He then led the other three through the back door and into the Burrow's kitchen. The room was quite crowded, and had obviously been magically expanded. The entire Weasley family, including Bill and Fleur, was seated around the enlarged table. "What the bloody hell is going on out there?" Ron demanded. "Language, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said severely. Ron ducked his head briefly as the four teens joined the others at the table. There was a flurry of activity as the Weasleys dug into the comfort food sent by concerned friends and neighbors. "So would anybody care to tell us what's happening out back? Who ordered all of that?" "I did," answered George, who was sitting near the other end of the table. He stared at his plate for a moment and then looked up. "F-Fred and I promised each other that if either of us didn't make it through the war, the survivor would do a proper wake for the other." A ghost of a smile now curved his lips. "We're going to have a party tonight… after the service. I-I've tried to set up everything just the way he wanted it." Harry glanced at Ginny and saw her struggling to keep the tears at bay. He took her hand and squeezed gently, silently trying to flood her mind with positive emotions. Mrs. Weasley had begun to cry softly, leaning on her husband for support. Percy looked as though he'd been punched in the gut, staring silently at his lap. Harry was pleased to see George reach over and squeeze his older brother's shoulder. Lunch passed quietly, with very little attempt at conversation. At last when they were finished, Mrs. Weasley started to rise and clear the dishes. "We'll take care of that, Mum. You rest," Ginny said, moving quickly to collect the plates along with Hermione, Ron and Harry. "Thank you dear," Mrs. Weasley replied. "I think I'm going upstairs to have a little lie-down." The matriarch's face then took on a business-like expression. "We'll be leaving here at sundown to walk to… the burial site," she said. "I want you all here on time. And I want you all cleaned up and looking – dignified." She shot a stern look at George as she spoke those last words. A mischievous expression appeared on George's face. One that had been missing since the Battle of Hogwarts. "Mum, I solemnly swear I won't do anything that Fred wouldn't." Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed at his cheeky reply, but she chose to let it pass. "It might do all of you some good to rest up before tonight," she said, starting to rise from the table. "Wait, Mum," George said. "There's something we've got to do before we clear out. Back in a second. All of you wait here." And with that, he vanished with a loud pop. He returned a few moments later, bearing a large, round object covered by a black felt cloth. He placed it in the middle of the table and removed the covering. Harry was stunned to see a Pensieve. George then pulled from his pocket a crystal bottle filled with swirling, silvery gas. "This is Fred's last will and testament," he said, swallowing hard. "When the war started to turn really serious, he and I agreed on how we wanted to divvy everything up, and then sat down and wrote out our wills. It's all legal and binding, and I've already started to carry out his wishes. So, let's have a look and see what he has to say to us." George's hand shook as he removed the stopper from the bottle and poured the memory into the stone basin. He prodded the contents with his wand, and then took a seat. A silvery figure rose out of the Pensieve and began to slowly revolve. A mixture of pain and amusement lanced Harry's heart as he stared at this echo of his lost… brother. Fred was seated in a wicker chair, sipping some sort of exotic drink and wearing a garish tropical shirt of the sort fancied by vacationing Muggles. After a few seconds, Fred looked up, and a grin split his features. "Hello, hello from wherever I am," he said brightly. "If you're watching this, that means I've bought the farm. Hopefully I took a few Death Eaters with me. Better yet, perhaps my demise was the result of a tragic accident while testing a new product for the shop." Several snorts broke out at this, even as tears streamed down the faces of just about everyone at the table. Harry gently pulled Ginny to his side and began rubbing her back, almost perfectly mirroring Hermione's actions with Ron. "Well, whatever the reason," Fred continued. "I don't want a lot of blubbering about it. This means you, Mum. I've lived a good life, even if it was a bit shorter than I'd planned. Anyway, you're all here today so I can hand out some loot. But before that, there're a few things I need to tell you. "George, I'll start with you. You've been a great partner in crime, and I wouldn't trade a minute of our lives together for all the Galleons in Gringotts. I'm sorry I've run off and left you in the lurch. I dunno what I'd do if things were reversed. Go stark raving mad, most likely. But I know you can work through this. Just remember, little brother, I'll always be looking out for you. I want you to promise me that when the time is right, you'll re-open the Wheezes. I know it's going to be tough, but I'm counting on you. I want the name Weasley to go down in infamy, and you're the guy who's bright enough to make it happen. You're going to need some help to pull this off. You might just want to talk to Lee Jordan about joining you. He's a natural for this kind of work. You should also talk to Ron…" Harry started at those words, and glanced over at Ron. The lanky teen was staring open-mouthed at the image of Fred. "… both know he's got the raw talent," Fred was saying. "He just spends too much time sitting on his brains. He needs a mentor like you to help him reach his full potential." "Hey!" Ron said hotly, as giggles broke out around the table. As if on cue, Fred's image threw a sly grin in Ron's direction. "Got ya, Ronniekins," it said with a smirk. Fred then addressed his twin once more. "Do me one more favor, will you? Keep an eye on Angie for me. She's likely to take this pretty hard. Understandable, of course, given my charm and good looks." Fred's image continued to rotate. "Mum, Dad," he said. "I know George and I gave you hives with all the antics we pulled. I'm just lucky you never figured out the Noodle Incident when we were eight… Ooops! Said too much! Sorry, George! Anyway, I want you both to know that you were the best parents we could ever have had. We may not have ever had a lot of money, but we never doubted that you loved us. Thanks from the bottom of my heart for everything, especially allowing George and me to reach adulthood. I love you, and I look forward to seeing you again someday." Mr. Weasley was holding his wife tightly, as her shoulders shook with sobs. Fred paused for a minute and then continued. "Well," he said, slapping his hands together and rubbing them gleefully. "Enough sentiment. Let's get to the best part, namely distributing some goodies. I should mention for legal purposes here that I am of sound mind and body, and that I'm free of alcohol and any other mind-altering substances, as well as free from any curses, hexes or jinxes. "First up, George. Just as we agreed, I'm leaving everything to you, with the exception of the items I'll dole out momentarily. Use all of this well. Make me proud, brother mine. I'm expecting great things from you. "Now for Mum and Dad. I hereby bequeath to you a five percent stake in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The shop was already making a fantastic profit before we had to all go into hiding, and I'm sure that will continue once it gets started up again. You'll be getting dividends, which should be a nice nest egg for you. George should have already made the arrangements for the monthly deposits into your vault. For once in your lives, spend a little something on yourselves. Mum, have the Burrow redone the way you've always wanted it. Dad, this should help keep you up to your armpits in Muggle gadgetry. You might also want to think about taking Mum on a second honeymoon." Fred waggled his eyebrows suggestively at this last remark, causing both of the elder Weasleys to blush. "To my brother Bill and his lovely wife, Fleur, I leave two thousand Galleons. Bill, you always were and still are one of the coolest guys I've ever known. Don't ever change, and don't let Mum talk you into giving up the earring. Anyway, use the money to make some additions to Shell Cottage or for anything else you desire. Have a happy life, and be sure to give me some good-looking nieces and nephews. "Charlie, I'm sorry we didn't see more of each other over the past few years. Thanks for always looking out for George and me. Thanks especially for teaching us to fly. You were a damn fine Quidditch player, and I'm sorry we never got a chance to have a pick-up game once Harry joined the family. I'd have loved to see which of you was the better Seeker. Oh, well, we'll save that for another lifetime. Anyway, to you I bequeath two thousand Galleons. Merlin knows what you can spend it on out in the wastes of Romania, but I hope it comes in handy. "Percy, if you're watching this, I assume you've made sufficient amends for turning your back on your family and breaking Mum's heart." Harry tensed at those words. Percy had a stricken expression on his face, and pain seemed to radiate off of him. Without a word, Ginny rose, walked around the table and enveloped Percy in a hug. "I hope for your sake, as well as Mum's and Dad's, that you make up with them. I had considered cutting you out of the will altogether, but I've decided to let bygones be bygones. So, I hereby bequeath one thousand Galleons. Sorry, Perc, but actions do have consequences. George will decide when you've apologized sufficiently to receive your share." Harry relaxed as George smiled slightly at Percy before reaching over and squeezing his arm again. Percy reached out and grabbed George's hand as though trying to save himself from drowning. Ginny left the two of them and returned to her seat beside Harry. "I'm going to take a little detour here and talk to Harry," Fred then said. "Well, oh Chosen One, if you're here, it means you've dispatched the Great Dark Tosser. Kudos! It's been great having you as an unofficial part of our family. I have a sneaking suspicion that before it's all over, you're going to be more tightly tied to Clan Weasley than you ever would have imagined. A word of caution, Harry. Always let her win. Trust me, you don't want to be on the receiving end of that Bat-Bogey Hex." George let out a wolf whistle, while Ginny and Harry blushed furiously. "You were our first financier, Harry," Fred continued. "We'd have never got the Wheeezes off the ground without you. Thanks a million. And, therefore, I award you a five percent stake in the business. Thanks again." Harry glanced at Ginny and smiled. She slipped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder, as they gazed back at the Pensieve. "Ickle Ronniekins," Fred said, an evil grin cracking his features. "Shut it," Ron muttered under his breath, earning him a light slap on the arm from Hermione. "You know, Ronnie," Fred continued. "George and I may have loved taking the mickey out of you, but we always admired you. You had a lot to live up to, and you did it better than you ever realized. You're tough and you're persistent. I admire the fact that you went off with Harry and Hermione to do whatever it is you're doing to stop old Moldywart. Your biggest problem is that you never give yourself enough credit. I'm going to rely on you to help keep George straight now that I'm gone. And to you I leave a five percent stake in the business. This is contingent, of course, on the condition that before your 21st birthday, you'll have finally pulled your head out of…" "Fred!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked involuntarily. "…the sand and asked Hermione to marry you. A girl like that only comes along once in a lifetime, and you're a fool if you let her get away." Hermione groaned and buried herself in Ron's shoulder as his face turned absolutely scarlet. George, Bill and Charlie all howled with laughter. "Seeing as I've probably completely embarrassed our favorite prefect and honorary sister," Fred continued smoothly, "let me try to make it up to her. Hermione, you may have always been a stickler for rules, but I've always suspected there's a rebel in you just bursting to get out. So live a little. Take the two thousand Galleons I'm leaving to you and have some fun. Life's too short not to. What you see in that thickheaded prat of a brother of mine, I'll never know, but I do know you're really good for him. Please, take care of him." "And finally, little Gin-Gin… What can I say? You had us all wrapped around your little finger from the moment you arrived. Thanks for not telling Mum about everything you saw and heard through the years. Thanks for being such a great junior partner in crime. Keep your blackmailing skills sharp and never lose that fiery spirit. Take the five thousand Galleons I'm leaving you and use it to throw yourself and Harry the biggest wedding Wizarding Britain has ever seen." Ginny giggled and blushed. Harry groaned and wished the floor would simply open up and swallow him as Ginny's remaining brothers poked him and threw catcalls his way. He glanced across the table and received a warm smile from Mr. Weasley, while Mrs. Weasley's face seemed to glow, despite the tears she was shedding. As everyone around the table grew quiet, Fred continued his monologue. "Well, I guess that's about it. It's been fun, not sure if you can say it's been real, though. If George has done what I asked, he should have everything set up for a proper wake later today. I expect you lot to send me off in style. Take care. I'll look forward to seeing you all on the other side at some point, but not soon." And with that, Fred's image jauntily raised its glass to the group before losing its shape and slipping back into the Pensieve. A mixture of chuckles and a few deep, shuddering breaths rippled around the kitchen table. Ginny nestled against Harry's chest as he wrapped his arm more tightly around her. Mrs. Weasley shook her head and attempted to smile bravely through another flood of tears, while Mr. Weasley soothingly patted her back. Charlie and Bill both sat stone-faced and silent, the latter idly running his fingers through Fleur's hair. Percy stared into the Pensieve, only looking up when George once more gripped his shoulder and flashed him a tight smile. At last Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rose from their seats. "We'll see you all here at sundown," Mrs. Weasley said before ascending the stairs behind Mr. Weasley. The rest of the family split up. George re-covered the Pensieve and then stepped outside with Charlie and Percy to oversee the last of the wake arrangements. Bill and Fleur also retreated upstairs. The four teens finished cleaning the kitchen and then headed to the parlor, where they huddled quietly for most of the afternoon. At last, as the shadows began to lengthen, they headed upstairs to get ready for the funeral. Ron and Harry showered and then put on the plain black robes they had spent too much time wearing over the past couple of days. Neither spoke much while they dressed. As they were about to walk downstairs, Harry reached out and gripped Ron's arm tightly. "Ron, I…" But words failed him. Ron shook his head and squeezed Harry's shoulder in return. "I know, mate," he said softly. "Thanks. Thanks for everything." Without another word, the pair walked down to the kitchen, where they found Hermione and Ginny waiting for them. Both girls looked tired and pale. Harry took Ginny in his arms and hugged her tightly, while Ron did the same for Hermione. The couples broke apart as other family members began wandering into the kitchen. There was little conversation, and the atmosphere was both tense and gloomy. At last Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs. Both seemed to have aged greatly in just the last few hours. Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red-rimmed, but her back was ramrod straight, and she held her chin high. After checking that all of her children were turned out properly, Mrs. Weasley glanced around the kitchen. "Where's George?" As if on cue, George appeared with a loud pop. He sported dress robes of a purple so violent they might even have given Albus Dumbledore pause. "George Weasley," his mother began, "if you think for one minute…" "Ah, ah, ah, Mum," George said with a smirk. "You know Fred would approve." Mrs. Weasley's mouth snapped shut, and though she regarded her son with a stern look, Harry thought he could see the barest hint of a gleam in her eyes. She then sighed and shook her head. "I suppose you think suggesting Fred would approve gives you license to get away with that and all other manner of foolishness," she said. George quirked an eyebrow. "I'm counting on it, Mum," he said. "Fred and I swore that if anything happened to one of us, the other would give him a memorable sendoff. I'm just honoring his memory." Mrs. Weasley looked as though she wanted to argue but said nothing as she crossed the kitchen and enveloped her son. After a moment she pulled back and gave him a sad smile before glancing out the window at the increasing shadows. "It's time we were off," she said softly. The family exited the kitchen into the back garden. The sun was sinking into the horizon. Harry could see that all of the preparations for the wake were complete. Marquees, tables and chairs were arranged tastefully, and a group of cooks bustled about the open-air kitchen. Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys crossed the back garden, walked through the orchard and across the paddock, finally climbing a rolling hill located on the back side of the property. At the top was a ring of trees that surrounded several marble and granite tombstones. A large crowd was already seated in folding chairs. Harry recognized several of his current and past schoolmates, including Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, Neville and Luna, Dean and Seamus, the Patil twins and, amazingly, Lavender Brown. Most of the Order was present, including Kingsley and Hagrid, as well as numerous members of the Hogwarts faculty. At the front of the assembly stood a stone table, on which rested a figure wrapped in a fluorescent green shroud. Mrs. Weasley gasped loudly and broke down, burying her face in Mr. Weasley's shoulder. Harry felt Ginny squeeze his hand tightly, and he returned the pressure. The Weasleys made their way to the empty front row and sat down. After a moment, Mr. Weasley rose and turned to face the crowd. "Thank you all for coming," he said quietly. "Thank you all for standing by us in our hour of darkness. We're going to do this somewhat informally. Somehow, I don't think Fred would have wanted long, pompous speeches. So I'm simply going to ask Minerva McGonagall to offer a few remarks. Then, anybody with a good Fred story to tell is welcome to do so." He sat down, and Professor McGonagall stepped to the front of the group. "I had the privilege of knowing Mr. Weasley, and his other half, for nearly seven years a Hogwarts," she said haltingly. "They certainly made life… interesting for all of us who teach there, and I daresay that Fred Weasley was responsible for quite a few of the gray hairs on my head." The crowd chuckled softly at this comment. "They served almost as many detentions with me as did a group of young men from a previous generation," she continued, throwing a piercing glance at Harry. "That foursome, I found out recently, referred to themselves as the Marauders, and the general mayhem they created was unmatched until Fred and George Weasley arrived nearly fifteen years later. Indeed, George, I think we can safely say that you and Fred were the Marauders' spiritual heirs." Harry was pleased to see that George appeared to be perking up at these words. Harry glanced at Ginny, grinned, and was rewarded with a small smile back. He then turned his attention back to McGonagall, who was now speaking directly to George. "George, I feel I owe you something of an apology," she said. "In your early years at Hogwarts, I thought you and Fred were a couple of talented but lazy ne'er-do-wells who would never amount to anything because you refused to apply yourselves to your studies. Which just goes to prove even the most fastidious of us can be wrong, given the success you've enjoyed since leaving the school." More laughter broke out. Professor McGonagall's face then grew serious. "Fred Weasley was a fine young man," she said. "He may have been a perpetual jokester, but his parents had taught him the difference between what is right and what is easy. He died fighting for what is right. And on a side note, let me add that I shall be forever grateful for the loyalty that he and George showed to Professor Dumbledore when they so colorfully departed Hogwarts two years ago." McGonagall took her seat. A moment later, Lee Jordan rose and stepped before the crowd. "Fred was one of the two coolest guys I've ever known," he said after a few seconds of silence. "I was lucky to run into him and you, George, on the Hogwarts Express our first year. It was great to get to know somebody who'd already picked up the skinny on what we could expect, y'know? You two made things fun. You never knew what new scheme they'd come up with next. Fred was just a great, great bloke." Lee paused for a moment, and seemed to be struggling to find something else to say. Instead, he simply gave a jaunty salute to Fred's shrouded form and then returned to his seat. Several more people rose to speak, including Oliver Wood. Throughout the eulogies, Harry kept his arm wrapped tightly around Ginny, who spent much of the time with her face buried against his side, her body wracked with sobs. Ron eyes were wet, and something inside him seemed to be coiling tighter and tighter. Hermione had drawn him to her and was doing her best to soothe his anguish. Harry had once again turned his attention to Ginny, when silence fell over the crowd. He glanced up and saw that Angelina was approaching the granite slab on which Fred rested. She reached out a trembling hand and softly touched the shroud before turning back to the crowd, tears streaming down her ebony cheeks. "Fred was… special," she said, drawing a long shuddering breath. "That was pretty obvious from the first year we were at Hogwarts. He had a… a spirit about him I've only seen in one other person. I-I know we're lucky to still have George here to keep sharing that with us." Harry glanced over at George and saw that he had bowed his head. Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever, depending on her husband for support. "Fred showed me some really great times," Angelina continued. "He gave me a lot of laughs, and some memories I'll carry in my h-heart forever." She abruptly broke off and hurried back to her seat. Alicia and Katie put their arms around her as she buried her face in her hands. Several more people – Fred's school mates, teachers, Order members also paid tribute and offered words of comfort, particularly to George. At last Percy rose, slowly approached the table and silently faced his lost brother for a couple of moments before turning toward the mourners. After another awkward pause, Percy spoke, gazing directly at George. "The most difficult thing in the world is to know the difference between what is easy and what is right… and to have the courage to act on that knowledge," he said. "Fred knew that all along and was never afraid to do the right thing. You have that same kind of courage and character, George. It's taken some of us a lot longer to learn those lessons." Percy had begun to tremble and was clearly struggling to fight back a sob that was welling up from deep inside him. "Some of us… that is to say, I-I misjudged you both, and I'm sorry. You may have given Mum and Dad lots of grey hairs, but at least you never broke their hearts. Fred was a more brilliant wizard, and a better man than I can ever hope to be…" As Percy grew to choked up to speak, George rose, threw and arm around his shoulders and guided him to a seat between Fleur and Charlie. George gripped Percy's arm and whispered something in his ear before moving to stand before Fred's shrouded body. George gazed at the ground for a moment and then looked up. "Fred was my soulmate," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "He was brilliant, he was funny, he was the best friend I ever had. I don't really have a lot more to say. I miss the ruddy prat. Sometimes I almost think I can hear his voice in my head." Harry glanced to his left and saw that Hermione had put her arms around Ron, who had tears running down his cheeks. Mrs. Weasley had begun to sob loudly. Harry gently slipped his arm around Ginny and pulled her to his side. George paused for a moment, then continued. "All of us here tonight have a lot of wounds to lick, but I'm going to do my damndest to live to the way I know Fred would want me to and to carry on his legacy. When I got back home from the battle at Hogwarts, I felt like a piece of me had died. I didn't want to do anything or see anybody. But then a great bloke suggested to me that Fred is now running around creating chaos in the afterlife." George now tilted his face toward the sky. "Fred, if you're taking the time to watch, this one's for you!" George raised his wand and swished it through the air. A series of explosions caused several people to scream. Multi-colored smoke engulfed the table on which Fred's body lay, much as had happened at Dumbledore's funeral. The explosions continued, and Harry realized that Weasleys' Whiz Bang Fireworks were shooting from the gravesite, their brilliant colors standing out against the darkening sky. Pinwheels, rockets and fireballs zoomed over the heads of the awestruck crowd. Several of the rockets formed themselves into an enormous dragon, which let out a mighty roar and began racing after an unmistakable toad-like figure. Harry felt Ginny's body begin to shake with mirth. He glanced to his other side and saw a wide grin plastered on Ron's face. Even Mrs. Weasley was laughing, while Mr. Weasley suddenly looked ten years younger. Round and round the dragon pursued the fiery image of the short, squat woman, finally taking a bite out of the seat of her pants to reveal a pair of old-fashioned polka-dotted bloomers. The dragon gave a roar of triumph, turned a somersault and exploded with a deafening bang before reforming into a giant W that hung in sky, visible for miles around. Harry looked back down and saw that where Fred's body had lain, there was a large, electric-blue sarcophagus. Inscribed on it in brilliant gold letters were the words, "Here rests Fred Weasley, mischief-maker extraordinaire, who laid down his life fighting the Great Dark Tosser." Mrs. Weasley's face showed a mixture of amusement and horror at the flippancy of the monument. Ginny was shaking from both laughter and tears. "It's brilliant," Harry whispered in her ear as he pulled her close again. George sat down and Mr. Weasley rose. "Thank you all for coming today," he said. "Your kindness means so much to our family. Please, take time to stop for a bite and a drink at the tent set up in the back garden. Somewhere, I imagine Fred is smiling at the thought of a party in his honor." The crowd rose from the chairs and began to mingle before moving in the direction of the Burrow. Harry and Ginny stood and slowly circulated among the guests, talking with their schoolmates. Ginny had just stepped away to speak to Luna, when Neville approached and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "How are you, Harry?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Harry started to offer his standard, "Fine," but paused and forced a smile. "Hurting," he said after a moment. "But getting better, I guess. You?" Neville shrugged. "Okay, I guess," he replied. "It's just so… weird to think that it's all over." "Yeah," Harry said softly. The pair stood silently for a moment, watching everyone mingle around them. At last, Neville spoke again. "You gave us a real fright the other day, when Hagrid came out of the Forest carrying you," he said. "I'm glad you're okay." "Thanks," Harry replied shortly. He had a dreadful feeling Neville wanted to know what had happened, and he really wasn't anxious to discuss it. Still, Harry mused, given that the prophecy easily could have applied to Neville, perhaps he deserved to know the whole story. "You walked into the Forest and gave yourself up, didn't you?" Neville asked, interrupting Harry's train of thought. "I didn't have a choice," Harry replied quietly. "I thought it was the only way to end the thing once and for all. I'd do it all over again if it would protect you and everybody else." Neville clearly had already guessed the truth, but his face paled when Harry stated it so baldly. "Harry, you should have let me…" "No," Harry interrupted. "I had to do it by myself. There was literally no other way. I had to face him alone to try and keep all of you safe. And I know damn well you'd have done the same thing. I know you did the same for Ginny and a lot of the other students last year. Thank you for looking out for her." Neville shook his head. "I just wish I could have done more," he said. He then took a deep breath. "How did you survive? Voldemort thought he'd killed you, which means he must have hit you with the curse. How did you trick him?" Harry closed his eyes for a few seconds before replying. "I didn't trick him. I… Look, if anyone deserves to know the full truth it's you, but not now. I promise soon to tell you everything. You played a bigger part in all of this than you know. But for now, let's not worry about it." Neville appeared poised to ask another question, when Ginny returned. "Hi, Neville," she said, giving him a hug. "How are you?" "I'm fine," he replied. "The real question is, how are you and the rest of your family?" Ginny trembled slightly at the question, but the look of vulnerability passed swiftly. "We'll be okay," she said. "It's just going to take a while. I miss him like crazy." Neville looked at the ground for a moment and shuffled his feet. "I always liked Fred, even if he and George did turn me into a canary on more than one occasion," he said. Ginny smiled sadly. "Thanks for coming," she said. "How are you? Is your Gran okay?" Neville perked up a bit at her query. "She's doing great. We're… we're a lot closer now with everything that's happened. She's here somewhere. I suppose I'd better go find her and make sure she's not stirring up trouble." Ginny leaned over and kissed Neville on the cheek. "Thanks again for coming, and thanks for everything this past year. I couldn't have made it without you." Neville blushed furiously and stammered his own thanks before walking off in search of his grandmother. Harry smiled and put his arm around Ginny, drawing her close to him. She drew a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his waist. They held each other tightly for a moment before continuing to circulate among family and friends. Eventually, they approached George, who was standing by the sarcophagus. Ginny gave her brother a gentle hug, holding him close for several seconds. George smiled slightly. "He's really not dead, not as long as we remember him." Harry nodded and gave George an awkward, one-armed hug. As the crowd continued to disperse, the three of them stood, peacefully gazing at Fred's resting place. The sound of approaching footsteps made them turn. And there, shuffling towards them was Argus Filch. The Hogwarts caretaker looked more gaunt and ill-kempt than ever, and Harry found it disconcerting to see him in a setting other than the school's shadowy corridors. Filch hesitated as he drew near, staring at the ground and shifting from one foot to the other. When he looked up, Harry was stunned to notice his eyes were more bloodshot than normal. Filch ignored Ginny and Harry, locking his gaze on George. The old man licked his lips a couple times, as though bursting to speak but unable to muster the courage to do so. At last George broke the tension. "Nice of you to come, Filch," he said, a slight look of amusement dancing across his face. Filch took a deep breath. "I'm still cleaning up messes you two monsters left in the castle," he said sharply. And then with a clumsy little jerk that might have been a bow, he ambled away. Ginny gazed after him, open-mouthed. Finally she turned to her brother. "I think you and Fred have just been paid a compliment," she said. A grin broke out on George's face and he turned to face the tomb. "Hear that, brother dear?" he whooped. "We have arrived." Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing and threw his arms around Ginny and George. They laughed loudly, and Harry felt a sudden easing of the heaviness on his heart and knew the other two felt it as well. "What's so funny?" asked Hermione, as she and Ron joined the group. "Our biggest critic just acknowledged the brilliance of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," George replied, his smile widening. He was about to launch into an explanation when a soft cough interrupted him. The group turned, and there stood Lavender Brown, along with Parvati Patil. Harry gazed at Lavender, noticing she bore some scars on her face from the battle, though nothing like those that marked Bill. The blond-haired girl fidgeted nervously, all the while focusing her attention solely on Hermione. Ron was gazing intently at the ground. At last, Lavender spoke. "Thanks," she said to Hermione. "Thanks for saving my life the other night. If it hadn't been for you…" Her voice cracked, and she was obviously struggling for control as Parvati squeezed her arm consolingly. "If it hadn't been for you, I'd have been dead, or worse. Fenrir was, he was trying to…" Lavender shuddered. Harry glanced over at Hermione and saw that her eyes were wet. She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, then walked over and began awkwardly patting Lavender's back. "I'm glad you're okay," Hermione said softly. "Fenrir didn't…?" Lavender shook her head quickly, and tears gushed down her cheeks. After a few seconds, she swallowed hard and looked Hermione in the eye. "I'm sorry about sixth year," she said, choking. "I'm sorry for the whole thing with Ron. I'm sorry for rubbing it in your face." Hermione was now crying openly and suddenly pulled Lavender into a hug. "You think any of that matters now?" she asked. "I'm just glad you're all right." Hermione took a couple of ragged breaths and continued. "I'm sorry you got caught up in that whole mess between Ron and me. You got hurt because we couldn't be honest with each other about our feelings, and I'm sorry." Lavender drew back and gave Hermione a sad smile. "No hard feelings?" she asked. Hermione smiled and shook her head before throwing a pointed look at Ron. "None. And I'm sure Ron has something to say to you as well." Ron turned scarlet as he stepped closer to Lavender, avoiding her eyes. "Er… Sorry about, you know," he mumbled. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "With feeling, Ronald, and have the decency to look her in the eye." Harry glanced over at George and Ginny and smiled inwardly at the identical expressions of glee on their faces. Ron, he was confident, would hear about this incident for some time to come. Ron looked up at Lavender and gulped. "I'm sorry for how I treated you. I used you… and that was wrong." Parvati was beaming as Lavender and Ron embraced for a moment. And suddenly, hugs and laughter broke out amongst the group, as well as discussion of some sort of celebration for later in the summer. The group slowly walked back down the hill and to the garden of the Burrow, where the wake was now in full swing. There was plenty of food and drink. A band was providing tastefully restrained music, though that didn't stop a few couples from taking the opportunity to dance. Harry smirked as he noticed a table covered with items from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Lee Jordan was behind the table handing out samples of a variety of products. The Canary Creams seemed especially popular. Harry turned to George. "Does this mean you're back in business?" he asked. George grinned. "Yeah," he said. "I've got to have something to occupy my time. Besides, Fred would probably come back and haunt me if I didn't do as he asked. And by the way, I'll gladly take you up on that offer to help around the shop." Harry smiled and nodded without hesitating. Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, George," she said. "Selling at your brother's wake? Your mum's going to have a conniption." George put his hand over his heart as though crushed. "You wound me, oh sister-to-be," he replied, causing both Hermione and Ron to blush. "I'm giving it away for tonight. What better way to honor Freddie than by getting folks hooked on our products?" Ginny and Hermione both rolled their eyes as George hurried over to the product table to assist Lee. The remaining teens headed to the main marquee and helped themselves to food and drink and spent the next few hours catching up on the past year, and swapping stories about years gone by. After a time, Harry allowed the conversation to simply flow around him, drinking in the sights and sounds of people living life. "You're looking awfully serious, Mr. Potter," Ginny whispered in his ear, interrupting his reverie. Harry turned and gazed at her, reveling in the chance to unabashedly feast his eyes on her. "This is what we fought for," he said, gesturing to the groups of people clustered about sharing both laughter and tears. "The chance to do this makes everything worthwhile." Ginny snuggled up to him and laid her cheek on his chest. Harry slipped his arms around her and sat back, soaking in the love and laughter that bound them all. ********* The small group of dark-clad figures stood huddled under sullen skies in the tiny cemetery. Tangles of weeds covered most of the chipped, crooked headstones. Behind the cemetery loomed the grimy smokestack of an abandoned factory. A chill, piercing wind blew through the graveyard, causing the group of mourners to gather closely around the recently covered grave. A dark-haired, bespectacled young man stepped forward and stared in silence for several seconds at the cold granite slab that covered the burial plot. At last he looked up and spoke. "Professor Snape was… a good man in the end," he said. "I hated him the whole time I knew him – I won't deny it. And given some things that happened in the distant past, he probably felt hatred every time he looked at me. I-I thought he was responsible for murdering the leader of the Light Side. I blamed him for so many of the horrors that fell on our world in the past year." The young man paused and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. The red-headed girl at his side squeezed his hand reassuringly and gave him a small smile. The boy took a deep breath and continued. "I was wrong," he said softly. "Professor Snape was, maybe, the bravest man I've known. We wouldn't have won the final battle if it hadn't been for all of the false information he fed to Voldemort over the years. The knowledge he shared with me as he was dying saved my life. He was… he was Dumbledore's man through and through. "I wish now that things could have been different. I wish I could have known what I know now. I hope that now he's found peace at last." The young wizard stepped away from the granite slab, and the knot of mourners began to disperse. "Well done," a burly, dark-skinned man whispered into the youth's ear. "Thanks, Kingsley," the boy replied. At last all of the other attendees had departed, and only the boy and his three companions remained – the red-headed witch, a lanky red-headed youth and another witch with curly brown hair. The dark-haired boy continued to stare at the inscription on the new gravestone. Severus Snape January 9, 1960–May 2, 1998 Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, 1997-98 The boy and his companions then glanced at a similar but much more weathered granite slab next to Professor Snape's grave. Eileen Prince October 23, 1940–July 6, 1978 The brown-haired witch shivered as another gust of wind swept by the little group. "It's so desolate here," she said, wrapping her arms around the red-haired youth. "I know he wasn't very nice, but I hate to think of him here all alone." The raven-haired wizard appeared on the verge of speaking, but then shook his head and gazed back down at the two gravestones. The cinnamon-headed girl squeezed his arm in a comforting manner. "Don't torture yourself, Harry," she said gently. "You couldn't have known. He certainly did a good job of covering his true loyalties where you were concerned. It still frosts me that he acted like a complete git toward you." The boy brushed his dark hair back from the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead and sighed. "I know, I just wish…" he began. "C'mon, let's get the hell away from here." The foursome headed for the cemetery gate, but suddenly the dark-haired wizard turned and walked back to the new grave. Pulling a wand from his pocket, he swished it in an intricate pattern. A wreath of lilies appeared in mid-air. He deftly caught the flowers and gently placed them on Severus Snape's tomb. Then he re-joined his companions and the four of them suddenly vanished with a soft pop. The only sound heard in the graveyard was the whispering of the wind and the rumble of distant thunder. * A/N: Well, I've finally gotten it updated, a mere nine months later. For all of you who've read the story so far and been inquiring about its status, my apologies for making you wait so long. A combination of tiredness and fastballs from RL kept me from doing much writing. But now things are getting back on track. You won't have to wait another nine months for Part V. I'm already at work on it. The title of this chapter is pulled from the M.A.S.H. series finale. It was a great title, even if it was a lousy episode. This chapter also contains obscure references to both "Calvin & Hobbes" and "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan." Golden Snitches to any reviewer geeky enough to spot them. I first saw the concept of using a Pensieve to present one's last will and testament in "Reign O'Er Me" by CTS. Somewhere I spotted a post-DH story – the title of which I cannot now remember – that had Fred using this trick, so I decided to borrow. I believe Melindaleo's "Curse of the Damned" was the first fic in which I heard anyone refer to Voldemort as "the Great Dark Tosser," so I decided to appropriate that as well. Speaking of Melindaleo, I really must thank her and The Seeker for the first-class pre-beta work. Both of them are fine authors, and you really should do yourselves a favor and check out their work. And it goes without saying that special gratitude must go to my beta, the talented and gracious Arnel, who challenged me to re-work and improve the opening scene. My writing is always better for her intervention. Arnel herself has a number of excellent stories posted on this site, and I would be remiss if didn't encourage you to check them out at your leisure. Finally, a special acknowledgement to all of you who are reading this modest little tale. Thank you for spending some of your valuable time with me. I hope you find the effort worthwhile.
|