Ginny yawned loudly as the bright morning sun woke her up on a warm Saturday. She glanced over toward Harry’s side of the bed and was shocked to see it empty. Under normal circumstances, her husband preferred to sleep in on the weekends due to his early weekdays. As she walked down the hall and into the kitchen, she was met by the warm smell of breakfast.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
Harry grinned and pulled her into a hug. “The memorial is gonna happen!” he exclaimed. Ginny squealed in excitement for her husband.
“We finally get to honour everyone who gave themselves for this war.”
The couple celebrated the memorial by toasting their morning pumpkin juice and munching on bacon. With all of the tension and fear from McLaggen, a memorial would be a great way to relieve their stress. If only they knew how wrong they would be.
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A month later, Harry woke his wife the dawn of the weeklong memorial to all of those lost in the war.
“Morning, love,” he whispered in her ear.
“Go 'way,” she murmured grumpily, whacking him in the face with her pillow.
He chuckled and told her, “We’re leaving in half an hour.”
“Mhmm,” she replied unenthusiastically. He laughed harder and made his way toward the shower to get warm water.
“You ready yet?” he asked ten minutes later, fully dressed and wide-awake.
“Not yet-“ she groaned. Harry rolled his eyes when he spotted her still in bed.
“Fifteen minutes, dear,” he reminded her. Her hand flashed for the clock on her bedside table.
“Oh Merlin!” she shouted. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”
He rolled his eyes and laughed at his wife as she stumbled into the shower.
“I told you to wake me a half an hour before we were supposed to leave,” she huffed twenty minutes later, lugging her suitcase behind her. Harry grabbed it from her, failing to conceal his laughter. She slapped his arm, but when she saw him wince she screeched, “Oh sorry, dear. Stupid mood swings.”
Harry groaned.
“Oh shut up. Only four and a half more months.”
They both grinned in anticipation. “You know you really should be getting some bed rest,” he told her.
“I know, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
They both grinned and he kissed her gently. “I love you, Ginny.”
“You’d better,” she retorted before kissing him again. “I love you, too.”
They Disapparated arm in arm and landed in the once thriving village of Hogsmeade. Now it stood in shambles. Buildings were dilapidated and barely standing on their foundations. There were people grouped around tents. Harry grinned as he saw his two best friends making their way toward him through the crowd, which had already gathered excitedly.
“It’s quite a good turnout,” Hermione commented, beaming at Harry.
“I’d have to agree,” Ginny replied, grinning and wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist.
“Excuse me, Ginevra Potter?” young teen asked.
“Yeah?” Ginny turned around to see her and her friend grinning sheepishly up at her.
“Err- the Daily Prophet says that you and Harry are destined to be together. Is it true?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say so,” she responded, smiling at the timid girls, remembering herself years ago. “I love him, very much. Fate introduced us, but we chose to be together. We fell in love.”
“How did you know it was love?” the girl’s friend asked.
“I never knew,” she said, thinking hard. She felt Harry’s hand grip hers. The girls looked rather crestfallen. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I always had this urge to be with him and I knew that I would always be safe with him, no matter what.”
The two girls nodded, smiling widely. They then took off, shouting thanks and giggling madly.
“I think you’ve just brought more love into the world, Gin,” Ron remarked light-heartedly.
“I’d say you’re not much short of a celebrity,” Hermione chimed in, giggling a little.
Just then, a bell chimed loudly over the heads of the crowds of people. The mood immediately changed to one of solemn remembrance.
Harry pecked his wife on the lips and walked up to a podium magically erected on a stage. He waited patiently as hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards sat in chairs before him. Ginny give him a thumbs up as he gulped nervously.
“Many of you,” he began, his voice magically magnified, “know me as the Chosen One or the Minister of Magic. However, this week I want to be thought of as Harry. We are here together because we’ve all been affected by the war. We’ve lost those who matter to us. They never truly leave us, so we should never forget what they’ve done. I, along with many others, have been working tirelessly for a long time and invited those who wish to share some final words with us to honour our loved ones. First off, I think now is a good time to tell you something that everyone has been dying to know for years- why I am the Boy-Who-Lived.
“I was a year old, and Lord Voldemort wanted me dead. He wanted to kill me because of a prophecy made about he and I not long before I was born. The details are no longer important, but, in short, they said that I would be able to kill him with “power the Dark Lord knows not”. My parent decided to go into hiding, so they used the Fidelius Charm to hide the three of us. They, at first, appointed Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper, as most of you know. However, just before the spell was completed, they changed Keepers. Sirius advised that Peter Pettigrew was made the Secret Keeper because he seemed less likely to be attacked for their whereabouts. Pettigrew was working for the Dark Lord against their knowledge and immediately turned their location over to Voldemort. Thus was the belief that Sirius was guilty. Nonetheless, Voldemort came to the house that my family and I resided in. My father told my mother to take me and run. Voldemort killed him immediately before turning his wand on my mum. He told her to stand aside, but she refused. He killed her, too. However, when he did, he set a form of ancient magic in place so that when he tried to kill me, the curse rebounded and hit him. When he should have been killed, he merely used his Horcruxes-“ People in the audience, who sat spellbound by his words, gasped. “Yes, Horcruxes, plural. He had seven, which he used to recover. In our sixth year at Hogwarts, my dearest friends left with me and we destroyed them.
“We have overcome the darkest age and defeated the darkest sorcerer ever- though not without sacrifice, tears, and suffering. This war did not start with death, but with unjust suffering. I want to invite up my good friend Neville Longbottom, whose parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters.”
He walked off of the stage, giving Neville a pat on the shoulder as he left.
“I-err, never really knew my parents,” Neville stammered. He hadn’t spoken in front of such a large group of people before. “I visit them a lot, but they don’t know me anymore. I swore that I would avenge them by killing the woman who did this to them, but in the end, I knew that it wouldn’t be right. She’s where she belongs, locked up in prison. My parents left me with knowledge of what is right. I miss them a lot, but I’m grateful I still have them, even if they don’t know me.”
He finished off with his voice much stronger than it had been when he started. His eyes were misted over, but his voice was steady when he introduced the next speaker, “The next person who wishes to speak is Griselda Jorkins, on behalf of her cousin, Bertha.”
He walked steadily off of the platform and sat beside Harry, who patted his arm encouragingly. The day dragged on. Many people spoke, sometimes multiple for the same person. People came up randomly and uninvited. No one stopped them but listened gravely. Harry couldn’t stop his tears from falling as Remus talked about Sirius.
“He was a great man, always laughing and joking. My biggest regret was wasting twelve long years thinking he was a murderer. He was, and still is, my best mate. He and James gave everything for me. They were my brothers-“ He choked and walked quickly off of the stage into Tonks’s arms.
Harry bit his lower lip before he stood up and wiped his tears from his face. He walked meaningfully up towards the podium again and listened to the silence before beginning what he had to say about Sirius. “Sirius Black was my godfather. He was smart, witty, and fun. He encouraged me to be just like him. He died because I was trying to save him. Lord Voldemort managed to use a strange mind link we shared to lure me to the Department of Mysteries. He did so by giving me the impression that he had kidnapped Sirius. I wanted to save him so much that I didn’t think clearly and in the end, Sirius died in the battle.”
He paused and silence reverberated against the walls of the dilapidated shops. Harry couldn’t find the words to describe how he felt about his godfather so he left. He sat back down and allowed other people to speak about their loved ones. As scheduled, most of the people made toward their tents at sunset. The memorial would continue the next morning- starting with Dumbledore. Ginny slowly approached her husband and slipped her hand into his.
“You really did a good job today,” she whispered. “People really appreciate what you’re doing.”
He didn’t respond but sat in a patch of grass and stared at the sunset.
“It’s so beautiful here.”
“Yeah, it is. Kinda romantic, too.”
Harry chuckled. “I’d have to agree.”
He kissed her gently. They were so wrapped up in the moment that they didn’t hear someone approach them from behind.
“Well, isn’t this sweet?” the stranger sneered.
Harry jumped up in fury. “What are you doing here, McLaggen?”
A/N: Sorry that this chapter took a little longer than I expected. It’s summer, but my parents actually want me to clean my room :[ I’m also sorry about the cliffie… I’ll try my best to update soon. OH MY GOSH! We’ve hit 111 reviews and 99 reviews for Revenge of the Serpent! I love you! Thanks for the support. Oh, and yes, I do LOVE One Tree Hill (Nathan is not dead). I'm not gonna be using the mind link that much because, while reading other fanfics, it feels so cliche :[ tell me if you think otherwise please