Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
The Boy Who Lived by Louise Charlton
Chapter 8: Post Bellum
By the time dinner was finally over, Harry was almost hoarse after spending endless hours over three courses of both main and dessert
relaying the matches that he had played on his Firebolt and his infamous capture of a dragon's egg in the Triwizard Tournament.
The wayward broomstick had been propped up against the wall throughout dinner, glistening in the lamp light until Harry had finally been released from the table.
But he resisted the urge to scoop it up and polish it until it gleamed once again, remembering his promise to Percy.
'Ron, could I borrow Pig to send my letter, please?' Harry asked.
'Sure mate, go ahead!' Ron replied, happy to be able to do something to make things right.
'Thanks mate, I'll just go and finish it quickly' Harry responded, giving Percy a reassuring smile before heading upstairs to Percy's room,
sitting down at the desk in Percy's room and reading through the letter that he had written earlier on in the day.
Dear Kingsley, I wanted to thank you for all of the efforts of your team for organising the memorials and for letting me be a part of it all.
There is, however, a matter that I wish to discuss with you regarding two names that are missing from the Memorials.
One is Severus Snape. Despite everything you might think about him, Snape has always been on our side for the past seventeen years, and his allegiance did not once waver.
When Snape discovered that Voldemort was targeting me, Snape turned his allegiance over to the Order of the Phoenix in a bid to save my mother.
And even though she died, Snape continued to help fight the cause that she believed in out of love for her.
Whilst he stood to gain nothing personally from the downfall of Voldemort, by keeping silent about the fatal errors that Voldemort was making, Snape ensured our victory.
And even when facing death, Snape could have saved himself by breaking his cover and helping Voldemort succeed.
He died for so much more than just love, in a bid to make amends for what he had done when he was a Death Eater.
And even though Dumbledore never revealed the truth behind why Snape had to kill him, because Snape trusted Dumbledore and his judgement, he faithfully carried out his duty.
Although Voldemort thought that he stood to gain from Dumbledore's death, it was actually done totally by the latter's design to ensure my victory.
One of Voldemort's many misguided failings was killing Snape, which ultimately served no purpose in gaining the allegiance of the Elder Wand.
Snape's death was in vain, and I think that his loyalty, bravery and heroism deserves to be honoured. I hope that this knowledge of the facts means that you now think the same.
The other name that is sadly missing from the Memorials is a young man who met a miserable end nearly twenty years ago in a murky cave full of inferi. His name was Regulus Black.
He, too, had joined the Death Eaters, sadly misguided by his upbringing. But when he found out that Voldemort had made a Horcrux he was appalled, and sought to destroy it.
And in full knowledge of what may happen to him, Regulus travelled to the cave where it was hidden and successfully replaced the real Horcrux with a fake one before being overcome by the inferi surrounding it.
Whilst Kreacher was entrusted with the task of keeping the real Horcrux safe and destroying it, Regulus forbade the elf to speak of any of these events,
and not even his brother Sirius knew the true circumstances surrounding this heroic deed that lead to his untimely death.
I am sure that you will agree that it is only right that after all these years we remember the brave sacrifice of an eighteen year old boy who tried to stop the most terrible Dark Wizard of all time from gaining immortality.
What you do with this information is entirely your decision, and if you would like any more details, I am more than happy to provide them for you.
Kind Regards, Harry Potter.
Harry then added a post-script telling Kingsley to now turn to the other piece of parchment, which documented all of the information that he could provide on the various circumstances from the war that had been requested.
Just as he had suspected, it had been difficult re-living certain moments of the past few years,
but he understood the importance of making everything known so that the world could move on from the terrible events that had occurred in recent years.
To give them all closure.
*
Harry had found Ron up in his room with Hermione and Ginny, with Pigwidgeon zooming around the room. He found it virtually impossible to keep the tiny bird still long enough to attach the letter.
After fumbling around for a few minutes, Harry heard a soft voice in his ear.
'Here, I'll help you'
Ginny had paced over to him and was now reaching out her hand to help him. Harry shuddered and felt his heart beat drum up a fast-paced tremelo as her hand met his.
Her fingers wrapped around his and moved so elegantly and effortlessly, Harry was amazed at how she had managed such a feat, as Pigwidgeon was still fidgeting around, eager to zoom off again.
With a loud buzzing in his head and his heart beat rapidly pulsing through his veins, Harry found that his hands were rather useless,
and so he slid them out from under Ginny's grasp and awkwardly stood there watching her for a short while, not daring to look around at Ron and Hermione.
'All done' she remarked brightly, bringing Harry out of his reverie.
She smiled broadly at him before walking back over towards Ron, giving him the impression that she had noticed his inability to function properly around her.
A little uneasy with Ginny's delighted expression, Harry proceeded to the tiny window and hoped to shield his blushing face from view whilst he busied himself with releasing Pig and watching him fly away for a while.
But Harry, who could not remember the last time the window had been opened, fought with the window fastening for several minutes, drawing attention to himself.
The suggestion that Ginny made next caused him to double-take: it was almost as if she had read his mind.
'It's probably better to go into the garden to release Pig. I doubt this window's ever been opened, judging by the stench in here!' she remarked, wrinkling her nose a little.
It was now Ron's turn to flush scarlet, and as the room erupted in giggles, Harry managed a nod between his bouts of laughter.
And Ginny, in her usual fashion, had taken no prisoners. Once the laughter had subsided, she stepped forward and grabbed Harry firmly by the hand, startling him by the sudden warmth and softness of her hand.
She lead him out of Ron's room, down the stairs and out into the garden, where the dark, starry sky was clear and bright, reminding Harry once more of how beautiful a place the Burrow really was.
Caught up in temporary wonder, Harry was brought back to reality when Pigwidgeon began to fidget.
Harry released him into the air at once, and for a moment, he and Ginny watched the tiny bird's progress silhouetted against the sky, growing gradually smaller.
It was only once little Pig had been completely absorbed into the night that Ginny interrupted the silence.
'It must've been difficult for you to write about everything that happened' she acknowledged, before wrapping her fingers around his and giving him a reassuring squeeze.
Harry was moved by Ginny's understanding, and realised that she knew something of the pain that he was experiencing.
Whilst he had no desire to revisit the horrors that he had faced during his Horcrux hunt, there was one story that he felt needed to be told:
the unknown heroics of Snape and Regulus.
So he invited Ginny to lie down on the damp grass beside him,
and the two looked up at the starry sky as Harry relayed the stories of how Regulus had died alone in a murky cave to try and defeat Voldemort,
and how Snape had remained faithful to Dumbledore and protected Harry to the end because of his love for Lily.
During Harry's recollections, Ginny had rested her head on his chest and traced shapes on his torso,
and when he finished, the two remained lying on the damp grass for a while longer, looking up at the stars,
listening to the peaceful silence of the night before heading back inside for bed.
*
Meanwhile, in the Burrow's warm, bright kitchen, Mrs Weasley was slumped in a chair, sipping a mug of hot chocolate whilst plates, pots and pans were busy being washed by enchanted cloths behind her.
Weary from the day's exhausting heat, Mrs Weasley massaged her temples, closing her eyes and taking deep, relaxing breaths.
But as she opened her eyes and they rested on the bare mantelpiece above the hearth, Mrs Weasley felt a chill come over her, despite the fire that was kindling below and the humid heat of a summer's day.
She had taken in the vast expanse that now stood where her special clock had once been.
The clock that had only recently been precariously perched above the hearth when Mrs Weasley had been in the kitchen, had once been called “marvellous” by Albus Dumbledore.
If one wanted to know the time, the clock was useless. But for Mrs Weasley to keep track of her large family, it was a very useful tool.
For the past sixteen years, nine hands had spun around the clock's face to respective statuses such as home, school, work and travelling.
Throughout the war, all nine hands had pointed to 'mortal peril', and on their return to the Burrow, the Weasleys found that all of the hands had moved to their respective places: all except one. Fred's hand.
In her horror and renewed grief, Mrs Weasley had found herself unable to bear looking at the clock, and so Mr Weasley picked it up to get rid of it.
He had considered vanishing it, but decided on shutting it in the attic with the transfigured ghoul, in case his wife wanted use of the clock in the future.
And whilst Mrs Weasley's thoughts had turned to the loss of a hand from the clock, George padded through from the hall into the scullery off the kitchen, emerging moments later with a pair of socks.
She had so far managed to contain her grief, but on seeing George her resilience wavered, and tears began to stream down her face.
Distracted by the sobbing, George turned to face his mother, and felt a rush of grief come over him.
She tried to apologise, but all that came out was some spluttering and croaking.
With tears streaming down his face, George paced over to his mother and pulled her into a hug, allowing her to sob into his chest unashamed.
And as Mrs Weasley decided that staying strong for her family no longer mattered in this moment and she let her grief overcome her for a while,
she was not aware of George's shaking form as he, too, let go of his resolve.
They were unaware of the rest of the Burrow's happenings: they were simply aware of themselves, and the grief that they shared for Fred.
As the pair pulled out of the hug, Mrs Weasley wiping the tears from her face, George pulled out a small, black clock hand from beneath his shirt.
On seeing the name on it glinting in the firelight, Mrs Weasley gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth.
'It was lying on the floor by the clock. Dad picked it up and gave it to me' George began, answering her unspoken question.
'When things get tough, I can just... hold his hand' George finished, another single tear trickling down his cheek.
A fresh bout of sobs came at this revelation, and Mrs Weasley managed to mumble something about being ashamed at not being able to face the clock.
But George cut her short, telling her that he understood completely: Fred's absence had left more than just a gap in the scenery.
They were in another embrace, and the two shared their sorrow, unaware of the two figures making their way up the garden path, hand-in-hand.
As the back door creaked open, the pair pulled apart, startled.
But as Harry and Ginny came through the back door, they had suitably recovered themselves, Mrs Weasley affectionately patting George's cheek before turning to the pots and plates.
On realising that they were all washed and dry, she busied herself with putting them all away, whilst George nodded briefly to the pair before heading off back upstairs.
Harry and Ginny decided not to comment on the event that they had just witnessed, or that the pair had red, puffy eyes,
deciding instead to simply mutter 'Good night' to a distracted Mrs Weasley before heading upstairs to bed.
*
As Harry woke the next morning with the sun streaming in through the window, he felt groggy from lack of sleep.
After staying with Ginny until she was fully asleep, he had taken himself off to Ron's attic room for bed, where he lay awake for hours replaying the exchange that he had witnessed between George and Mrs Weasley.
He was not sure of exactly what the time was when sleep eventually overcame him,
but it had seemed as if he had barely closed his eyes before he was once again awoken by Ron's mumbled complaints about how he had been told to wait for Harry before having breakfast.
Harry found himself sniggering silently, listening to Ron complaining as if he had been starved for a month.
Harry dressed in silence, with flashes of the scene he had witnessed the previous night coming to mind.
Mrs Weasley's kind eyes, wet with tears; George sullenly standing before them, his eyes red and puffy; Fred's figure, still smiling, as he was blasted with rubble.
Stop it, he told himself.
And with Ron hot on his tail, Harry proceeded downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, where Mr Weasley, Charlie and George were already at the table.
Ginny and Hermione also followed closely behind them, entering the kitchen just as Mr Weasley was leaving for work, saying both 'Good morning' and 'Goodbye' in the same sentence.
As Charlie happily tucked into seconds, the newcomers came over to the breakfast table.
Harry noticed that George was picking at his food, slowly clearing his plate with a mild interest in breakfast.
George welcomed the distraction of Harry's entrance, giving him a half-smile and pulling out the chair next to him, which Harry took in a bid to keep normality.
Ron had flopped down into the chair next to Charlie, which was opposite Harry, and ravenously tucked in to everything placed in front of him.
Harry made the mistake of catching Ginny's eye, and soon found that the rest of the table were laughing with him.
Even Hermione, after initially snorting with disgust, found herself laughing with the others.
When the laughter died down and the group around the table were full and satisfied, the conversation soon turned to Hogwarts.
'I wonder how much has been done since the Battle' Ginny wondered aloud.
'Well, I s'pose all the bodies have been dealt with, but Hogwarts is a big castle: I expect poor Filch'll be glad of a hand' Harry provided.
'I don't know, you know what Filch is like about us using magic in front of him' Hermione stated darkly.
'True, but I doubt he has much choice. Has there ever been a big Battle at Hogwarts before?'
Harry asked Hermione, who had made it public knowledge that she had read Hogwarts: A History repeatedly since the moment she set foot there seven years ago.
Hermione was stumped, eagerly racking her brains to try and find out, but Ron quickly filled the silence, after taking another mouthful of breakfast.
'Tha 'till doesn't mean he's 'one soff!'
Mrs Weasley tutted, much to the amusement of Charlie and George, whilst Hermione and Ginny threw Ron looks of disgust and revulsion.
But Harry simply looked confused until Ron swallowed and repeated, 'I said, “That still doesn't mean he's gone soft!”'
'Well, we'll just have to go and find out, won't we!' Ginny contributed, laughing triumphantly.
'Not you, young lady!' Mrs Weasley chimed in from across the kitchen.
'What?!' Ginny exclaimed, turning to face her mother in horror.
'You're not of age... you're not going!' Mrs Weasley finalised.
'That's ridiculous... I went to the Department of Mysteries when I was fifteen and fought in the Battle just a few weeks ago. I have every right to go!' Ginny argued.
And before Mrs Weasley had even had a chance to reply, Ginny marched into the living room, grabbed some Floo Powder, climbed into the hearth and shouted 'Hogwarts!' clearly, at the top of her voice.
*
The morning sun streamed in through the windows of the Great Hall, pouring light onto the large expanse of floor that was present in the absence of the four large house tables that had been moved against the walls.
The enchanted ceiling reflected a clear, blue sky, a mockery of the current state of the castle.
A series of 'pops' began to disturb the silence, and new arrivals padded through to the Great Hall.
The Apparition ban had been temporarily lifted for the Great Hall, and many volunteers were also arriving by Floo;
both heavily guarded by war-hardened, battle scarred Aurors who limped around the Great Hall, performing random security checks.
As Harry entered the Great Hall with Mrs Weasley, Charlie, George, Hermione, Ron and Ginny,
they were swarmed upon by several Aurors who performed a number of enchantments and used various probes before they were allowed to enter.
Unnerving as they were, Harry was reassured that the Ministry was doing everything they could to ensure to keep evil at bay.
Once they were given the all-clear, the group entered the Great Hall and were greeted by a multitude of familiar faces:
many Hogwarts students, past and present, were around, some with family members, as well as some Hogwarts Professors, Members of the Order of the Phoenix, and some business owners from Hogsmeade.
Filch was lurking in a corner, looking as surly and threatening as ever: clearly the presence of so many helping hands was not a good thing.
And as people were arriving and filing into the Great Hall, the room was buzzing as old friends and acquaintances greeted each other warmly, sharing their news.
George found Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson and the trio talked animatedly to each other.
Harry observed that George looked much happier than he had seen him since the end of the war, and smiled.
'What's made you so happy?' Ginny enquired in a low voice.
But before Harry had even begun to answer, he was cut short by McGonagall's authoritative voice echoing around the Great Hall, calling for silence.
'Thank you all for coming' she began. 'As you can see, Hogwarts is still in rather a state.
I have a number of tasks that need to be done today, I will read them out and we can allocate volunteers to those positions.'
McGonagall looked down only for a second to grab her wand and a scroll from her pocket, and that was when the commotion began.
There was another 'pop', and a group of Aurors scuffled towards the new arrivals.
As they began their investigations, Harry heard a familiar voice drawl in response to their probes and did a double-take.
And as a head moved, Harry was able to see the familiar face that accompanied the voice, and could not believe his eyes.