“Harry, mate, rise and shine.”
The voice was so familiar, that Harry didn’t even stir. Eventually, he opened his eyes, focusing on the tall figure perched on the edge of his bed, his mop of hair startlingly bright against his maroon pyjamas.
“Morning.”, Harry murmured, offering Ron a small smile as he sat up.
“No one’s going to mind it if you don’t come, you know.”, Ron mumbled.
“That’s nice.”, Harry said noncommittally, pushing aside the warm sheets, “Is Hermione up?”
“Downstairs, having breakfast. We’ve all eaten.”
“I’ll be downstairs in a minute. Are you getting dressed now?”, Harry asked, wincing slightly as he stood up. Some of the wounds were yet to heal. Then again, some wounds never would. Evidence stood before him, wearing the face of his best friend. He looked the same, with his bright red mop and his freckled face. But his eyes that had once twinkled with mischief were now calmer, more thoughtful, the depths conveying only silent grief. The casual smile that curved his lips every now and then, was now steadier, gentler. He’d grown. They all had.
“In a bit.”, Ron said, “Hermione’s waiting downstairs. Get something to eat.”
Harry nodded, stepping into the bathroom. He splashed cold water onto his face, brushed, and after a failed attempt to tame his unruly hair, made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The kitchen was empty, save Hermione, still in her lilac pyjamas, her bushy hair in a knot. She jumped up as Harry occupied the seat next to her.
“Slept well?”, she asked, as she piled food onto a plate. Harry hummed in response, “Where are the others?”
“Getting things ready. I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Yeah…”, Harry replied. He understood what she felt, only too well. The feeling that they were outsiders, intruding on the family’s grief. Harry had barely left Hermione’s side ever since they came to the Burrow during the aftermath of the battle.
Hermione slid into the seat beside him, placing his plate before him. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “You’re not going to feed me?”
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t push it, mister.”
Harry laughed, ruffling her hair before reluctantly picking up a fork and spoon.
“You’re coming, aren’t you?”, he asked, nervously waiting for her answer. He wasn’t going to be able to get through this without her.
“Of course. Ron tried to talk me out of it this morning, God knows why.”, she placed her palms on the table. Harry felt a quick rush of emotion when he saw that her nails were bitten to the quick.
“He’s just worried that we’re not up to it.”, he murmured.
“That’s ridiculous.”, she whispered, her voice trembling, eyes brimming with tears, “This is our grief too.”
“I’m sorry.”, she murmured. “Nothing to apologise for.”, Harry said, not knowing what else to say.
He looked down at his plate, suddenly unable to stand the sight of food. “Not hungry.”, he mumbled, pushing away his plate.
“I know.”, she said, with a sniff, “I’m going to get dressed. You should too.” They both stood up, Harry moving to the sink to clear his plate.
He looked at Hermione over his shoulder, “Are you quite sure you’re not growing shorter?”
“Buzz off you weed.”, she said, briefly bumping her shoulder with his before walking out the kitchen. Harry looked after her and sighed.
He worried about her. She’d been so strong for all of them, through everything, that sometimes he forgot how much she’d lost. She hadn’t said a word about her parents, whether she was going to go find them, whether she could. Alteration of memories was a delicate spell, what if it could never be undone? That would mean that she’d lost her whole family, just as Harry had. In a way, perhaps her pain was more profound.
His silent musings were interrupted when he suddenly found himself in front of the door to his room. He opened the door and stepped in, his heartbeat easing slightly when he realized Ron wasn’t there. Ron had left a set of black robes on Harry’s bed. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from the suit as possible. He looked out of the window and saw the Weasleys, all of them, in the backyard, a small knot of black and red. He could make out Ginny, her red hair glinting in the sunlight, head resting on her mother’s shoulder.
Harry swallowed hard as he remembered Molly, her lips trembling with suppressed grief as she stood in front of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur’s hand in hers, in the magnificent hall of the Ministry. A week had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. All her children, including Percy, stood behind them, Percy’s arm around George’s shoulders.
“Minister…”, she started.
“None of that, Molly.”, his voice rumbled reassuringly.
“You must know…”, Arthur started, “We lost our son in the battle. We know you cannot let us perform the funeral. We won’t ask that of you. All we want…is to have him back…for only a short while.”
“You want his coffin back?”, Kingsley pressed. They nodded. At the word ‘coffin’, George seemed to lean heavily into Percy’s side. Despite their obvious differences in the past, somehow, through all of this, Percy was the only one George wanted to speak to.
Harry grit his teeth, reaching out almost blindly for Hermione’s hand, relief flooding him as her hand clasped his. She looked up, and somehow an unspoken understanding passed between them.
“Minister…if I may.”, she started. “Please, Hermione.”, he smiled.
“It would mean a lot if we could have them with us.”, she said, “They were our family, and…this is our way of goodbye.”
“They?”, he asked.
“Fred, Lupin, and Tonks.”, she murmured. For a second everyone’s eyes were on her. Harry squeezed her hand.
Kingsley’s eyes skated over Ron, and Hermione and rested on Harry.
Unexpectedly, he smiled, “I suppose that is the least we can do for you three.”
Harry leaned his head against the window, the glass cooling his troubled mind. After a while he stood up, quickly wearing the suit. It fit him moderately well, besides, how the suit looked on him was the farthest from his mind at the moment. He was halfway to the door when he suddenly remembered something. He dropped to his knees by the bed, pulling out his duffle bag. He ripped the bag open, rummaging through the bag, his fingers curving around the object. He slipped it into his pocket, the familiar weight comforting him as he stood up.
He walked to Hermione’s room, knocking twice on the door. A few seconds later the door swung open, revealing Hermione in a simple grey dress, the skirt ending in the embroidery, pooling elegantly around her feet. She’d left her hair open.
“This was the simplest I could find.”, she murmured, looking down at herself.
“You look great.”, Harry said, managing a smile. “Thank you.”, she smiled, “For everything.”
He raised his eyebrows, touched, “Hermione Granger, thanking me? I could get used to this.”
“Well, don’t.”, she said, her eyebrows scrunching together, “Trust you to ruin the moment.”
He chuckled, “Shall we?” She took a deep breath and nodded.
They both walked out the front door. “Go ahead.”, Harry told Hermione. She nodded, making her way over to the Weasleys. Ron turned around as she approached, slipping an arm around her shoulders without a word uttered.
“’Arry.” Harry turned to see Fleur, looking almost tragically beautiful in a pale blue dress, etched with patterns of silver.
However, all he could see was the tiny figure she held in her arms. His hair, presently ginger, seemed to warp and change, sunlight sifting through the light strands. He gazed at his godson, and for the first time, he felt the immense pressure of tears building up behind his eyes.
“Hey, Fleur.”, he all but choked, “When…when did Teddy arrive?”
Her face softened, as she cupped Harry’s cheek, “I asked Tonks’ mother if she would mind very much, bringing leetle Teddy home. Neizer of zem felt zey could ‘andle comeeng ‘ere, to see ‘er. Tonks was zeir only daughter, as you know.”
He felt a sudden rush of affection for Fleur, “Thank you.”
“No matter.”, she shook her head, “I must go be with Beel now.”
And with that, she bundled Teddy into Harry’s unsuspecting arms. The baby gave a sudden cry of reproach. Harry tried to stave off the panic building up in his veins as he bounced up and down in an effort to calm Teddy down.
“Hey…hey, Ted…I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t cry…okay?”, he murmured, brushing a loose strand of now blonde hair from the baby’s troubled face. As if he understood, Teddy immediately calmed down, fisting his plump fingers into Harry’s suit.
“There we go.”, he smiled, “I’m your godfather, you know?” Whether Harry was his godfather or his fairy godmother was probably the least of Teddy’s concerns. His hazel gaze moved restlessly all over the yard, trying to drink in every little detail.
Harry allowed his eyes to wander to the scene before him, seeing the coffins clearly for the first time. Only there weren’t three, but four coffins. One of them, Harry knew to be empty. “What do you say we go have a look.”, he whispered, turning to Teddy, whose lips were curved into a wide grin, almost unnervingly like his mother’s.
He made his way over to the Weasleys, who were crowded around one of the coffins. It was made of polished mahogany, much like the others. A name was embossed in gold on the top in calligraphy. Fred Weasley.
“So, you met Teddy.” Starting slightly, Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione on either side of him.
“He’s beautiful.”, Hermione whispered, letting the back of her hand brush his cheek.
“I’m his godfather.”, he whispered. He ached to be alone with them now, to speak to them of his fear. Of his uncertainty. Of the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him every time he looked at the innocent face resting on his shoulder.
“We know.”, Ron murmured. Somehow, those words were enough.
“Go.”, Ron said, patting him on the back, “You’re the only one who hasn’t seen Fred.”
Harry sucked in a breath, nodding. He slowly made his way to the front, until he found himself standing alongside George, who was closest to the coffin, his fingers brushing the golden plated words which bore the name of his twin.
“Hey, George.”, he said, met with no response.
He’d tried imagining what it must be like, losing someone who has been with you for as long as your allowed yourself to remember. Losing the only one capable of understanding every inch of your soul. Someone who knew everything there was to know about you, the good bits, the bad bits, the bits no one saw. Losing someone who dreamed what you dreamed, who wanted what you wanted. All Harry could imagine was a void. A void that was so black, that black itself seemed to fade in comparison. And he saw George in that void, hung in midair, with no anchor to hold him to the ground. Fred, he willed himself to think, closing his eyes. I miss you, we all miss you. Don’t you worry about George, we’ll look after him for you, okay? One more thing. Giving you and George my Triwizard winnings was the best thing I’ve ever done. There ends my emotional speech. It’s okay, you can laugh, I know you’re listening.
He reached out, his hand brushing George’s shoulder before he moved away, feeling the instinctive need to leave him alone. If Fred could truly hear them, then perhaps George would be the only one he would want to listen to.
The next two coffins were placed close to each other, slightly separate from the rest. “Say hello to Mum and Dad.”, he said, nudging Teddy’s cheek. The boy laughed, stringing together a few syllables and gesturing wildly.
“Hey Remus, Tonks.”, Harry started, unsure of what to say, “Tonks, your parents couldn’t be here today, but I brought Teddy. Fleur brought him, really. Just want you to know that I’ll take care of him, I’ll keep him happy. I...he'll remember you, both of you, the way I did. I promise.”
Feeling his throat close up with emotion, he inched closer to Lupin’s coffin, “I never knew my parents. I had the Weasleys, I had Ron and Hermione, but they didn’t know what they were like. But you…you and Sirius, you knew them, loved them, with...an intensity I never got to feel. You never let me feel their absence. I didn’t have parents, but I knew what having a family meant. I never realized it when you were around, and I took that for granted. I said things to you that didn't deserve any forgiveness. And now here I am, godfather to your son. Sometimes, that faith was the only thing that kept me…alive. Thank you, Remus. I’ll do you proud.” Tears were streaming from his eyes as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a battered piece of parchment. “Moony.”, he said with a watery smile, “Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. That’s Mischief Managed, I suppose. I’ll keep this safe for you.”
“Harry.”, a familiar voice whispered.
“Hey, Hermione.”, he murmured, turning towards her, noticing tears tracks etched on her cheeks.
“You’re crying.”, she cooed sympathetically, reaching out to wipe his tears away. He shook his head, “I’m fine.”
She sighed, walking towards the fourth coffin, Harry close to follow. Teddy, to his surprise, had fallen asleep, his head lolling on Harry’s shoulder.
“It was good of Kingsley, to do this for us.”, she said, her fingers brushing the golden-plated name on the lid.
A shiver ran down Harry’s spine as he remembered George.
“The coffin’s empty.”, Harry said, his voice sounding harsher than he’d intended.
“Harry…”
“That isn’t Moody. It’s an empty coffin with his name on it.”, Harry struggled to keep his voice low.
“I know.”, she said. She opened her mouth to continue, but Harry quelled her with a look.
“This isn’t what he deserves. None of them deserved to die for me.”, he continued, “They had their whole lives left. Remus and Tonks had a baby, Hermione. Nothing is worth giving that up. Especially not me.”
“There you go again.”, she said sternly, “Always the hero.”
“I-”
“No, it’s my turn now, Harry.”, she said, “Yes, their death is heartbreaking. Yes, they didn’t deserve to die. But you weren’t the only one they fought for. They fought for the people they loved, just as you did. Fred? He fought for his family. Remus and Tonks fought for each other. Remus fought for his old friends, for every single person he ever lost. They fought for your godson, so he could grow up in a world without the danger they had to face. They fought for themselves. They fought for what was right. They weren’t forced to walk the path they did. They chose this. They knew the risks, but they took them. You can’t take responsibility for the whole, this isn’t your burden to bear. It isn’t anybody’s.”
Harry bit down on his lip, trying as hard as he could, not to break down into sobs. He felt Hermione slip her arms around him in a hug, careful not to wake Teddy. “Let’s go inside, okay? Ron said he’ll be with us in a minute.”, she said, her voice gentle.
He nodded, taking one last look at the coffins, before he turned away, slowly walking towards the house.
It hurt now. The burden of loss was a heavy weight to bear. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe, someday, all of them would find a way to heal their wounds. Harry believed they would. One day. And they would heal together.