Burials
Every instinct warned her not to approach, that doing so would be most detrimental to her.
The magic permeating around the churchyard was the very same she’d felt being around Harry, though his own did not feel so dangerous to her. This cloaked figure, however, wasn’t like Harry, nor anything else she’d ever encountered in the magical world.
It spoke, and it undoubtedly existed, but Hermione wanted no part of it.
Maybe it was her own magic warning her to keep her distance. Truthfully, she could not even begin to explain what it was standing before her, speaking with Harry as though the two of them were old friends.
If anything, however, it was as though Harry looked up to it as though it was a god, and he was a willing disciple. Nonetheless, Hermione understood. Whatever this being was, Death or not as it claimed to be, she could not deny its existence, nor the gifts it had given to her friend, and Harry certainly did not seem worse for it.
Still, she’d not contemplated such a thing much, and certainly not on a magical level.
What this encounter had done for her was prove that Harry was indeed telling the truth, that he hadn’t simply lost his mind when Sirius had died. No, although it went against all of her beliefs in logic and rationale, this entity did exist, and it had chosen Harry as its champion.
Even now, she was struggling to get her head around everything she’d learned that night a little more than a week prior, and yet, somehow, she took comfort knowing that whatever it was seemed to be watching over Harry as a guardian of sorts.
She’d heard Harry convening with it in murmured words from time to time, and the magic that followed told Hermione that it was with him wherever he went, that it listened to him.
Not that she thought she would ever truly understand the relationship, Death itself, and how dedicated Harry was to it. The results of the coming together spoke for themselves.
Her friend had never appeared to be so healthy in both mind and body. Harry had always been exceptionally powerful, something he’d demonstrated on many occasions over the years, but now, he was something else entirely.
Hermione had seen what he was capable during the wedding, but beyond it all, Harry was very much the same boy she’d met on the train on their very first trip to Hogwarts, the same caring, protective and loyal friend she’d come to treasure unwaveringly.
“More good news?” he asked as he entered the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower he’d evidently just taken.
“You could say that,” Hermione sighed, sliding the newspaper towards him.
“The Magical Registration Act?” he questioned.
“It is a magical census, according to the article. Every magic within Great Britain and Northern must submit themselves for registration at the Ministry of Magic.”
Harry frowned at the explanation.
“This can’t be good,” he muttered.
“It’s a cover to make sure all muggleborns and half-bloods who have slipped through the net over the years make themselves known.”
“So he can use it for political clout and know where he can find all of them. I suppose it is compulsory, just like the education act.”
“Exactly.”
Harry shook his head.
“And those that do not comply will become targets of the Ministry of Magic.”
“But how can he enforce it?”
Harry shook his head.
“Think about who it is that won’t comply,” he urged.
“Muggleborns.”
“The one’s smart enough to realise what is happening. They’ll go into hiding, and he’ll use it as an excuse to persecute them all. I don’t know what he will do, but we both know it won’t be good.”
Hermione bit her lower lip worriedly.
It was just another thing they would need to be concerned about, and she could only be grateful she’d convinced her parents to leave for Australia, even if they had not been pleased to go.
She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at the thought of not seeing them again, at her mother and father receiving the news that she had been killed.
“It will be alright, Hermione.”
She nodded.
Even before what she’d learned about him, she’d always believed in Harry. Somehow, someway, he always managed to navigate everything life threw at him.
“Did you get a letter from Mr Weasley?”
Harry released a deep breath as he removed a piece of parchment from his pocket.
“All three on the same day.”
“I suppose he just wants to get it all done and over with,” Hermione mused aloud.
Harry nodded.
Neither of them had heard from Ron yet.
She knew Harry had written, and she had too a few times to let him know she was thinking of him. Of course, he would not be coping well, and he certainly wouldn’t be the same after everything that had happened.
Who would be, after all?
“What can we do for him?”
“Nothing,” Harry answered simply. “There is nothing we can say or do that will make any of it better. He will have to learn to live with it. I know it sounds heartless, but it is the way it is.”
Hermione deflated as Harry left the room.
If anyone knew anything about loss and how to cope with it, it was him.
Harry had lost his parents, his godfather, and others along the way, yet, somehow, he still managed to press on as he did.
Maybe Ron would prove to be just as resilient, or perhaps not.
Such losses were not something he would fully recover from, but Hermione was hopeful he would come out on the other side of it as best he could. What that was, remained to be seen, but she would be there for him, as would Harry and the rest of his family.
(Break)
“It will take some time to put everything into place, my lord. I need to arrange the staff to complete the interviews and register, and from there, we will have a better understanding of just how big the problem is we face.”
The Dark Lord nodded.
“Do not rush, Pius. This must be done correctly to every detail.”
Thicknesse nodded.
“I will appoint Umbridge to oversee things for the most part. She’s a detestable wench, but she is efficient and will see things our way. As for everything else, it is going as well as can be expected, even if we are missing dozens of members of staff who have not returned for work. No one of consequence, mind.”
“Perhaps not, but we cannot be seen to be lax in our duties, Pius. Find them all and ensure they are punished suitably.”
“Of course, my lord. If that is all…”
Voldemort waved him off dismissively, and the man left the room.
“And what about you, Corvus?”
The man shook his head.
“Twelves aurors are awol, and the rest remain only out of fear. Robards is uncooperative, and capable of causing problems. I can’t kill the bastard because the rest will leave, and then we will have no aurors.”
“Then find a way, Corvus. You are not a fool.”
“I will, my lord, it is just proving to be a little more frustrating than I expected.”
He too had expected nothing less.
The aurors had lost the one leader they’d truly followed, and now, they found themselves unwittingly serving the man responsible for her death. Not that the Dark Lord cared for such sentiment, but it was indeed a problem.
Perhaps finding a way to replace the entire force with his own people was the best foot forward, and he might already know how that can be done with little fallout.
“Rookwood?”
The man shook his head gravely.
“The entire Department of Mysteries was emptied, my lord. There is nothing left accept for empty rooms and the veil.”
“That is not the news I wanted, Augustus.”
“I know, and I am sorry, my lord.”
He could only nod in response.
He had hoped that within the department, there might just be a copy of the prophecy, but truthfully was not surprised by the revelation that wasn’t so nor that the Unspeakables had taken everything they could.
The problem was that no one knew who they were. Not even the Minister of Magic was privy to that information, which meant it was all but impossible to track them down knowingly.
It was yet another hurdle he must overcome whilst dealing with the bureaucracy of the ministry, though he could do without such things. He had other thoughts occupying his mind, not least the young man that continued to plague his very existence.
Potter.
If the boy did return to Hogwarts, then he was already very much in the Dark Lord’s hands, and if he didn’t, the compulsory education act would see him as a wanted fugitive.
He would prefer the boy was foolish enough to return to the castle, but the Dark Lord had his doubts.
No, Potter would not do something so damned stupid, which meant he would become hunted, something that Lord Voldemort found rather exciting.
There was little more so than hunting down a target, and the Dark Lord had never failed to find one yet.
Potter would be no different.
Soon enough, the fate of the young man would be decided, but the outcome would be as anticipated.
It would be the Dark Lord that tore the final breath from his lungs.
(Break)
He watched the crowd of people milling around Knockturn Alley, which had undoubtedly become busier since the Ministry of Magic had been taken. There were no aurors in sight, and those that frequented the less reputable establishments did so without fear of being arrested.
Harry suspected that it would only become worse in the coming weeks and months when others across the world realised that there was a haven here where they could do just about anything they could hope without repercussions.
With a shake of his head, he apparated away and arrived in the study at Grimmauld Place, where the portraits of the Peverells were awaiting his return.
“More again?” Cadmus asked.
Harry nodded.
“More each night, and more people he can recruit. We’re already outnumbered, and I can’t just drop in and pick them off, It’s too risky to do that, and will draw attention to me that I’d rather avoid…”
He broke off, his frown deepening in thought before his eyes widened.
“That is not a good look,” Ignotus commented. “He’s had an idea.”
“A good idea,” Harry chuckled.
“A good idea?” Ignotus pressed.
“Well, I think it is. I know I can’t pick them off as I would like to, not by killing them, at least, but I do have an entire prison that no one else even knows still exists apart from me.”
He’d all but forgotten about Nurmengard, but now that it was at the forefront of his mind, he could certainly put it to use by placing the worst of the worst he came across within the exceptional structure.
Of course, he would need to tweak the magic and protections around it, and place a few people there to serve as guards, or better yet…
“It will work,” he whispered, sitting down at the desk to take some notes. “It will definitely work.”
“I think he may have truly had a good idea,” Antioch mused aloud.
Both Cadmus and Ignotus conceded the point with a nod, and Harry set to work planning, and perhaps even scheming on how he may just be able to seize something of an advantage where his enemies were concerned.
Of course, it would be much easier to simply kill them, but doing so could be much more problematic than he was ready for.
Why go to the trouble when it was not necessary?
Besides, prisoners could be a most useful source of information, especially if he could apprehend a few prominent Death Eaters. It wasn’t as though he was obligated to keep them alive when he was done with them, after all.
Yes, it wasn’t the most appealing of plans, but one that could prove to be most advantageous if implemented correctly.
(Break)
He’d barely been in post a matter of days, and already, Severus would rather be anywhere else but where he found himself now. Ver since the compulsory education act had been introduced, he’d been inundated with dozens upon dozens of owls from parents wishing to register their at Hogwarts, and more questions than he cared to answer.
Not only that, he needed to complete all of the tasks the headmaster of the school was responsible for, meaning there wasn’t a single moment of the day that his time wasn’t occupied.
Of course, he was coping well enough, but what he could not abide was what little time had had being wasted.
“And how many years of teaching experience do you have?” he asked for the umpteenth time.
“Seven,” the woman he was interviewing answered. “I have a mastery in the study of ancient runes and scored very highly in my OWLs and NEWTS.”
She slid a roll of parchment across the desk and Severus unfurled it, nodding appreciatively as he read the scores she’d been awarded from her time at Ilvermorny.
They were indeed impressive, and finally, he may well have found a suitable replacement for Babbling.
“I will be in touch shortly,” he offered, handing her back her certificates.
The woman, a rather plain and unremarkable one at that smiled appreciatively before leaving the office, and Severus rubbed his eyes tiredly.
With the new influx of students, he needed to hire several new instructors to take on the mammoth amount of teaching that would take place, which meant that come September, Hogwarts would be fuller than it had ever been.
Much to his relief, he would not be teaching any of the classes, though he was beginning to suspect it would be easier to do so than continuing to interview chancer upon chancer attempting to secure a position here.
Only six months ago, he could not have envisioned this was where he’d find himself. Dumbledore had been irksome at times but were he still alive, Severus doubted the Dark Lord’s coup would have been successful.
He’d taken advantage of the laxity of the grieving Minerva, and maybe he had not seen eye to eye with her on many things, but he would not deny that the woman was better suited to this position than he would ever be.
Still, there was nothing Severus could do about it now.
The Dark Lord had made his mind up, and whilst he remained useless to the man who’s existence served as a reminder of his own failings, and even to the younger man he’d betrayed, he would live through this war.
When either of them discovered his deception…
Severus could only shake his head.
At best, he was living on borrowed time, and he suspected that sooner or later, it would run out entirely.
(Break)
“It’s not much, but it is our home for as long as we are here.”
“Not much?” Albus chuckled.
“Well, it’s not what we will one day have.”
A penthouse in Manhattan was certainly not to be scoffed at, and it wasn’t as though Gellert had needed to pay for it. With only a few memory and compulsion charms, the previous owner had been more than willing to sign it over to him.
Not that he would tell Albus that. He would morally object, of course, and that was why Gellert had chosen a humbler abode for them to live in. As tempting as it was to secure a brownstone for them, he could not explain away such a lavish place of residence.
“This must’ve cost a fortune.”
“Not as much as you might think, Albie,” Gellert assured him. “It has been unoccupied for years, and the owner was keen to be rid of it. Something about unscrupulous tenants and the rise in crime. Not that we need to be concerned with that.”
Albus nodded as he continued to look around, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m still undecided what I should do for work,” he sighed. “If I submit my thesis in Transfiguration, I could likely find a teaching job.”
“Is that what you would like to do?”
“I’ve considered it.”
Gellert gave the man’s hand a squeeze.
“Then that’s exactly what you should do, Albie. You will be a wonderful teacher.”
He positively preened under the praise.
“I think I might just do that when I am finished up with Nicholas. You’ll have your work at MACUSA and I can maybe get a job at Ilvermorny, or any other school.”
“It’s a good way to prepare for what is to come,” Gellert mused aloud. “I expect we will be here for a while, so, why not pursue the things we are passionate about.”
He’d not told Albus of how he’d ended up with his position, nor what he’d done to obtain it. The two of them might share a vision of what they wished to shape the world into being, but Albus was more naïve about the finer points of seeing that vision come to life.
It wasn’t as though they could simply form a group and campaign peacefully on the streets. No, they would need to force these changes, grasp opportunities that came their way, and be as relentless and resourceful as possible with whatever favour they could garner.
It would take years of work, years of sowing and nurturing their seeds before they would be truly ready, but that day would come.
Of that, Gellert had no doubt.
(Break)
The Ministry of Magic truly was in turmoil.
Those who had continued coming to work after the coup did so cautiously, walked through the atrium to their respective departments in silence, interacting with none as they did so.
She remembered seeing many of them before, pausing to share a few words with their colleagues, but now, the veil of suspicion had well and truly fallen into place.
Friends no longer trusted friends, and colleagues had become strangers overnight. Although they were not making it obvious, she knew that the Death Eaters were lurking around the Ministry from time to time, and there was undoubtedly sympathisers and even supporters of the Dark Lord among the regular workforce.
As a maintenance worker, Nymphadora could venture to most parts of the building without raising suspicion, or drawing attention to herself, but thus far, despite her best efforts, she’d been able to glean little from her time here.
Of course, she’d not been foolish enough to return to work.
Several of her colleagues had been killed, and given who her aunt was, she was not going to take such a risk.
No, until the war was resolved, she could no longer consider herself an auror.
“Wotcha, Tonks.”
She almost jumped out of her skin as the voice spoke into her ear as she left the cubicle she’d appeared in upon taking her leave of the ministry.
“You stupid, bloody prat!” she hissed, swinging a fist towards Harry, who stepped out of the path of the blow, chuckling amusedly to himself. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to speak with you,” he replied, looking around before dragging her underneath an invisibility cloak and apparating them away.
They appeared in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, and with a flick of his wand, the door closed and locked.
“Hermione will be sleeping, and I don’t want anyone else knowing about this.”
“Well, if you wanted to get me alone, you just had to say.”
He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head.
“Maybe later,” he said dismissively, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “For now, I have something else I need you to do. I know you’ve been at the ministry, but I need you to apply for a job at Hogwarts.”
“Hogwarts?”
Harry nodded.
“Undercover. No one can know who you are. As far as everyone knows, Snape is the headmaster. Even he thinks he is.”
“But he isn’t?”
“He isn’t,” Harry confirmed. “Officially, he is, but I’m the one in control of the castle. As much as I like to think he is on our side, I can’t trust Snape. Dumbledore may have, but I don’t.”
“So, you’re the headmaster?” Tonks snorted. “Well, I can’t say that I trust him either, especially with everything that is happening. The ministry is…well, it’s buggered.”
“And it is only going to get worse with the compulsory education thing and magical registration act.”
Tonks nodded.
It was a real worry for her, especially with her father. Even her mother would not be safe from persecution for marrying a muggleborn, and with her being a disgraced half-blood, she would not fare any better under such scrutiny. Still, she’d already discussed it with her parents, and they had assured her hey would be careful.
“So, why do you need me at Hogwarts?”
“To keep an eye on the place and make sure the students are safe. Snape needs to hire several professors and for that, Voldemort will want at east a few of his own in there.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Tonks murmured. “You don’t think..”
“That’s exactly what I think, especially with the muggleborn and half-bloods.”
“Snape wouldn’t…”
“What choice would he have? If he is told to make life miserable for them, it doesn’t matter what Snape wants to do, and he won’t be able to stop the others either.”
Tonks nodded and released a deep breath.
Her efforts at the ministry were proving to be fruitless, and it wasn’t as though she could o much with what little information she might be able to gather.
Being at Hogwarts, however, she could really make a difference in the war effort by ensuring the children within the castle are kept safe.
“I’ll do it, but how will you get me a job there? I will need qualifications…”
She broke off as Harry placed a stack of parchment on the table.
“You just need to fill these in with your information. They have already been signed by Madam Marchbanks. It wasn’t so difficult to convince her to help me out.”
“Bloody hell,” Tonks whispered as she rifled through the various official documents. “You could sell these on the black market for thousands of galleons. Marchbanks’ signature is worth its weight in gold.”
“Well, these are more use to us,” Harry said dismissively as he removed another piece of parchment from within is robes that was much older than any in the stack. “This will be the most useful thing for you.”
He was eyeing it almost reverently, as though it was the most precious thing in the world to him.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he murmured, tapping it with his wand.
Tonks looked on in amazement as trails of ink began spreading across the length and breadth of it, forming into a map.
“That’s Hogwarts,” she whispered. “Is that…?”
“Everyone within the castle and grounds,” Harry clarified, “well, all the parts of it my father and the rest of them could find. There are places that you won’t find on here, but I will personally be keeping an eye on them. One place you should be aware of is the seventh floor.”
“There’s nothing on the seventh floor.”
“There is, you just can’t find it on the map. Just watch out for anyone spending a little too much time up there.”
She nodded as she continued to observe the marvellous map, wondering just how much trouble she could’ve caused during her years at school if she’d possessed this.
“It belonged to your father.”
“And I would like it back.”
“I will take care of it, Harry,” Tonks promised.
“I know.”
The last thing she’d expected to be doing was interviewing for a job at Hogwarts, and as she read the letter offering her employment, she could not help but think just how surreal the entire situation was, but then again, everything had become rather surreal these past few years.
With Voldemort returning, the mass breakout from Azkaban, Dumbledore’s death, and everything else that had happened since, Britain was in dire straits, and nothing short of a miracle would pull it from the darkness that had engulfed the entire country.
Harry.
He would be the one to lead them against the Dark Lord now, and Nymphadora could not help but think that somehow, he would find a way to win.
Who else could claim to have survived Voldemort so many times, or even achieve half of the things Harry had?
It was strange to think that he was sonly on the cusp of turning seventeen himself, and already, the weight of magical Britain was already very much on his shoulders.
Of course, Nymphadora and the others who refused to bow to the Dark Lord would play their part, but when it came down to it, it would indeed be Harry Potter who decided the fate of what was to come.
Releasing a deep breath, she folded away the letter she’d received before placing it into her trunk which was already packed with her new identity, a new wardrobe, and everything else she might need before placing her auror card and everything else into another, sealing it shut with a tap of her wand when she was done.
“Will that be all, Miss Tonks?” the goblin asked as she stepped out of her vault.
“It will,” Nymphadora confirmed, readying herself to take on an entirely new existence as a Hogwarts professor, but most importantly, as a protector of the students who would inevitably be returning in September.
Someone had to watch over them, after all, and ensure they did not come to harm at the hands of those that wished it upon them.
(Break)
It was a very odd numbness that overcame him as he watched Lavender’s coffin being carried into the muggle churchyard. He certainly did not dislike the girl, he had simply not held as much affection for her as she had him, and although he could not see through the grief of losing his mother, Bill, and Ginny, Ron did feel a sense of guilt.
Had he just been honest with Lavender about his feelings, she would not have been at the wedding in the first place, and he would not be here now watching her being laid to rest.
Not that this was about him in any way, but he could not pretend that this meant as much to him as it should.
Still, he had not come here for himself, but for Lavender and her parents who’d reached out to him.
Ron, however, wasn’t heartless, and even wrapped an arm around the sobbing Parvati’s shoulders as she wept next to him whilst the coffin was lowered into the ground as the reverend presided over her.
Perhaps there was a part within him that was truly saddened by the loss of the girl, and maybe one day he’d be able to feel that, to grieve for her, but that day wasn’t today.
“She really liked you,” Parvati whispered as the ceremony came to an end. “You know, we actually flipped a coin to see who got to ask you out,” she added with a watery chuckle.
“You did?”
The girl nodded.
“Padma said that you were a prat during Yule Ball, but…”
She broke off with a shrug.
“Lavender won the coin flip.”
Ron could only shake his head in response.
Despite having been in a relationship with the girl for more than a year, he was no closer to understanding girls and doubted he ever would be. They were odd, and nothing like boys.
“Well, look where that ended up for her,” he murmured.
Parvati took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“The only people to blame for this are the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. They killed her, Ron, and too many others. I’m so sorry about your losses. I can’t imagine what you and your family are going through.”
Ron nodded as he swallowed deeply.
“It’s not easy. I keep thinking that I’ll go downstairs and find my mum waiting with breakfast, or Ginny will burst into my room to shout at me for something. Bill, well, he’s not been around much since I was a kid, but he was my favourite brother.”
“You still have four of them, Ron. I know that doesn’t take any of it away, but, well, you have people who love you who you can turn to.”
“I know.”
Parvati gave his hand another squeeze.
“You can write to me, if you like. It will take a while to reach me, but I’ll write back. My parents are taking us to India to get away from all of this.”
“I don’t blame them,” Ron replied. “If people can get out of here, they should. It’s only going to get worse.”
“What about you?”
Ron shook his head.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said defiantly.
Parvati nodded her understanding.
“I didn’t expect anything less. Be careful, Ron. Like you said, it’s only going to get worse, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t say that he was plagued by the same numbness today.
They’d buried his mother first next to her twin brothers, Fabien and Gideon before arriving back not so far away from the Burrow where Ron was watching the remains of his own siblings being put to rest by a magical minister of sorts.
He had one arm wrapped around Hermione, and Harry’s hand was resting in his shoulder, squeezing it almost uncomfortably.
Neither of them really knew Bill at all, but both had come to know his mother and Ginny over the years. Harry had even saved the girl’s life during her first year at Hogwarts, and his mother saw his friend as much as one of them as though he too had been born with red hair and freckles.
Fred and George were just as sombre as he’d become accustomed to seeing them, each flanking their father almost protectively with a red-eyed Charlie nearby.
Ron had been quite furious to see Percy arriving, but despite his feelings towards the man, he would’ve been even angrier had he not bothered to come. Even so, he kept a respectabl distance away from the rest of the family, undoubtedly wondering if Fred, George, or Charlie might thump him for being such a prat.
No, today was not the day to maybe resolve that particular issue, and Ron truly felt sorry for his brother as he stepped forward to lay a rose on each of the fresh graves, offering the rest of them a sad smile before he vanished with a gentle pop.
Percy had no one, and though his estrangement was of his own doing, that didn’t mean Ron wanted him to suffer.
Maybe he would write to Percy, if he stopped being such an idiot.
“Are you ready to head home or do you want to stay a while?” Harry asked.
Ron wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.
He felt something of a sense of closure now that. His mother, brother, and sister were buried, but he still felt empty except for the anger and loss that coursed through him.
Maybe this was normal after what had happened, or maybe it had truly broken him.
He’d always had something of a fiery temper, but nothing like this, not a burning rage boiling his blood beneath his skin, nor such feelings of hatred.
He’d always thought he’d despised Malfoy, but compared to the Dark Lord and his followers, that hatred paled in comparison.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
“Then we will stay here until you are ready to decide.”
He pulled Ron to the ground next to him, and Hermione joined them, none of them speaking for some time until Harry chuckled to himself.
“Do you remember when you, Fed and George came and got me from the Dursleys before we started second year, and your mum caught us sneaking into the house.”
“Bloody hell, I thought she was going to kill us. If it wasn’t for you being here, she might have done.”
“Your dad didn’t seem to mind that you used the car.”
A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of Ron’s lips as he nodded.
“He just wanted to know how well it worked,” he snorted.
“Well, it got us to Hogwarts.”
“I remember the Howler. Bloody hell, I’d give anything to get one of those from her.”
“I know, me too.”
“She never sent you one.”
“That’s true,” Harry said smugly, “but I wouldn’t have minded. We both deserved it.”
Ron nodded as he began thinking back on all of those many memories he had of the woman who’d raised him, how she’d fussed over him and the rest of his siblings, how she would constantly be chiding Fred and George for their pranks, berating Bill and Charlie for their long hair, and how she was always much gentler with Ginny, the only girl in a house full of older brothers.
He remembered just how much his mother and father had truly loved one another, and how that love had been shared with all of them.
All of that was gone now, and though those memories would always be among his very best, there would be no more made.
His gaze shifted to the young man sitting next to him, and Ron wondered how Harry had carried all he did without those memories to bring him some comfort. The only memory he had of either of his parents was that of his mother pleading for his life.
“Damn,” he murmured.
“What is it?”
Ron shook his head as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
He’d never truly understood Harry in such a way, but having experienced such a loss of his own, he felt as though he did now.
“I was just thinking of the time Mum caught Fred and George trying to make me take an unbreakable vow,” he mused aloud. “She was so angry with them, even more than the time they put stink bombs in Percy’s bed. The twins will miss being told off by her. That didn’t stop her visiting their shop.”
“She was proud of them.”
Ron nodded.
“She was proud of all of you,” Hermione broke in. “It couldn’t have been easy raising seven children.”
“No, but she did it better than anyone else could have,” Ron said sincerely, wiping away an errant tear that rolled down his cheek.
As proud of them as his mother had been, he could not find the words to say just how proud of her he was for all she’d done, how much he would miss her, and how much emptier their lives would be without Molly, Bill, and Ginny Weasley.
“What do I do, Harry?”
“That depends on what you want, Ron. You can do what you probably should and stay here with your father, or you can decide that’s not what you want and fight. Only you can make that choice, but you should do it with a clear head.”
Ron nodded.
He wanted to fight, to ensure that his mother, Bil, and Ginny got the justice they deserved, but he knew he needed to be here for his father too. The man could not possibly face losing anyone else he held dear.
As things were, he was barely holding it together now, and maybe he’d been right when he said that the war was over for the Weasleys.
Even so, it wasn’t so simple to walk away from as it perhaps should be.
No, despite his anger, Ron knew that Harry was right. He needed to carefully consider what he did next, but somehow, he already knew that he would be where he was now; at the side of his two best friends in whatever it was they were doing.