It wasn't the first time that everyone present had made the trip, considering how the last few months that had agonizingly gone by, but it was certainly the most reverent that any of them had ever been.
The sign reading "Funeral Hall" swung ominously in the wind. It seemed to mock Harry, Hermione, and Ron as they trudged up the long, black stairs that lead to the building. Harry glanced towards it and could almost feel Voldemort's cruel laugh and twisted grip on his neck once again. Shivering despite the warmth around him, Harry tore his eyes away, determined to not think about it.
Mr. Weasley held the door open for them as they walked through the gates, past the hall, and into the field where they could already see the gravestones glistening in the evening light. Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione and saw that they were clasping hands and comforting each other in small undertones. He looked to his side but of course found no one there. He didn't know what would have happened if Ginny had lived, but he figured they would at least still be holding hands, still laughing together, still comforting one another about the war that had finally ended.
He pushed the thoughts away and managed to make it over to the gravesite. Only ten of them were there, another fact to show how much had truly been lost. Along with him, Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley, they had managed to convince the doctors to let Remus come along, though he was still severely damaged from his confrontation with Peter.
That was one gravesite that Harry wouldn't even spit on.
Fred and George were there as well; their normally spunky and chipper moods that had kept everyone going had been melted down. Bill and Charlie were both still too weak to make the journey. But they had bought flowers and, with crying eyes, told their father to take them to their mother and baby sister.
Harry's throat stopped up as he saw Mr. Weasley silently kneel and place the flowers upon the graves of his wife and daughter, side by side. Tragedy, it seemed, was an infectious disease that hit the best of people.
Harry risked a look back at the remaining members of their small group: Neville, Tonks and, surprisingly, Snape. Though Harry was still grateful for the assistance Snape had given during the final battle, the thoughts of what he had almost done to Remus would not be driven out of his conscious.
Neville had agreed to come, paying respects to the man who had saved his life. Albus Dumbledore's marker lay a little to the side of the two Weasley's. Even standing next to it, Harry could still feel the power and authority that Dumbledore had wheedled on the earth. Only one man could have taken him down. And only one man could have taken that man down.
Harry's eye burned as he thought of the deaths, the sacrifices, and the losses on both sides. If only...
Those seemed to be the two words that constantly replayed in Harry's head as he watched the silent mourners gaze on the graves. He, Harry, could have prevented these deaths.
But he stopped himself before he dug himself any deeper, and he remembered Remus' earlier words.
Guilt for your actions could be the worst road to take; in honoring your loved ones memories, or in striving to continue your own life...
Gone were the days when he accepted the blame for everything. There was only one person to blame, and he was as dead as he would ever be. Harry might not have been able to prevent these Wizards and Witches deaths, but he had prevented countless others by finally destroying Voldemort.
Nymphadora Tonks had come on behalf of Remus, something Harry found rather amusing in these dark times. Though the two never admitted to anything more than friendship, Harry was grateful that Remus had at least that much.
He gazed over at his father's old friend, noticing the lines in his face and the firm jaw he seemed to have set. It was almost pitiful. This man had probably gone through more than anyone else in this war. It was almost as if he didn't have any more sadness to give out. And now, the one man who had stood by Remus through everything, who had given him a chance at life, at school, at friendships...was gone.
Tonks slid and arm around Remus' waist and leaned her head against his shoulder.
Not wanting to intrude on the moment, Harry walked over to Mr. Weasley who was still transfixed on the two graves of his family.
"If it's any consolation, sir," Harry said quietly, "I believe we both lost the women we loved."
Mr. Weasley didn't move but Harry saw him smile a bit as teardrops silently fell down his face. "Yes...I had suspicions on that subject."
Harry gazed down at Ginny's grave and felt his own tears burning at his eyes, but was determined not to let them fall.
"I loved your daughter very much, Mr. Weasley."
"Yes, Harry, I know."
Harry managed a bit of a smile and looked towards the older man. "And if it's any consolation, I know for a fact that she loved you very much..."
Mr. Weasley sighed miserably and still did not look at Harry.
"She never meant those things she said," Harry continued. "She told me not two weeks ago that she wanted more than anything to make up with you again."
Harry finally felt a few tears drop as Mr. Weasley finally looked up. "She was so excited about the war almost being over, that maybe she would be able to find you and her mother soon and...and set things right..."
"I wish it could have happened that way, Harry," Mr. Weasley finally said.
Harry didn't bother to wipe away the offending tears trailing down his cheeks. "So do I..."
Harry turned as he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked into the kind eyes of Remus Lupin who was managing to smile at him through the bitter cloud of depression that seemed to have sunk in on the gravesite.
"Harry, could I have a word?"
Nodding, Harry followed Remus who led him just over a small hill next to the graves and then stopped and turned to him.
"I would say 'How are you feeling', but I can tell by the look on your face," Remus told him.
Harry heaved a sigh. "Guess I'm not much good at hiding my feelings anymore."
Remus seemed to study him for a moment before speaking again.
"Harry, I know you probably don't want to hear me say this, but I'm going to anyway: I'm very proud of you."
The words hung in the air and Harry felt the slight bitterness of them penetrate it.
"And I'm sure that Sirius and your parents are very proud of you, too."
Harry shook his head. "What's there to be proud about? I mean, sure I defeated Voldemort, but the cost, Remus! The cost was so dear to me, to everyone! You know that more than anyone."
Those words seemed to sting Remus a bit and he hesitated before continuing.
"I thought we had been through the guilt trip Harry. The last thing I would want right now would be for you to swing down into that depression stage that you went into after Sirius died." He reached forward and grabbed Harry's shoulders forcefully. "That is NOT what he would have wanted. That is NOT what your parents would have wanted either."
There was a small bout of silence while Harry tried to keep a controlled face. But a tear still managed to sneak down his cheek.
"And that is NOT what I want." Remus relaxed his grip, but kept holding on. "I know I'm not your parents and I know I'm not Sirius. But Harry, I still love you...I still want you to be happy...I still want you to find peace within yourself...I still want you to live your life, JUST-" he raised his voice as Harry tried to struggled out of his grip. "Just as much as all three of them."
Harry's eyes burned with hot tears, a strange realization dawning on his as he stopped struggling. They had had this conversation many times before, but in the aftermath of this war, it seemed very different in Harry's eyes.
Remus was right. He was still there. He was the closest thing that Harry had to a father. The closest thing that Harry had to a mentor, to a guardian. He had been there for Harry longer than anyone, except for maybe Ron and Hermione.
Choking back a sob, Harry reached forward and fell into Remus' embrace, hugging him tightly as Remus hugged back.
"Thanks," he said weakly, pulling back and wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry it took so long."
Remus managed a smile and just nodded.
"Harry, I want to show you one last thing before we leave," he said suddenly as they both noticed that the others were heading out. "Follow me."
Harry and Remus wound through the graveyard till they came to a small patch that was cornered off, separate from the others. Harry hesitated before approaching as he saw two small gravestones sitting in the middle of it. He had a feeling he knew whose gravestones they were.
"Remember Harry, no guilt," Remus said in all seriousness. "I've put off bringing you here for a long time just for that very reason, but I think that after what you've just been through, you deserve at least this much."
Harry cautiously stepped over the dividing rope that ran around the graves and squinted as he read the two gravestones:
Lily Potter
Beloved Mother, Caring Wife and True Friend.
Forever in our hearts.
James Potter
Dedicated Husband, Loving Father and Faithful friend.
Marauder till the end.
Harry fell to his knees, his whole body shaking with emotion as he read the gravestones of his parents. He heard Remus come up behind him and stand there.
"They'll always be remembered..." he said with fervor. "Just like you."
"Is that better than them being here with me now?" Harry said through watery eyes.
"No...but it does give you a sense of peace that they died doing the right thing."
"But I didn't die," Harry said, almost bitter. "I'm still here."
Remus laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Yes, Harry. You're the boy who lived."