Forty five minutes later, Harry was laughing with the last seven stragglers at the Weasley kitchen table. He was uncomfortably full, having just been force fed all together too many sausages by Mrs. Weasley, who seemed convinced that he, Ron, and Hermione were starving themselves at 12 Grimmauld Place, where they had been living now since the beginning of the year
.
He glanced around at the smiling faces: Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and George were gathered at the end of the table. They were laughing at Bill, who had enchanted the remaining bacon, and was halfway through a noteworthy dancing rendition of Rita Skeeter’s new book, Living With Death Eaters: My Decade of Insanity, starring the last sausage as Rita Skeeter. At the other end of the table, Mr. Weasley and Hagrid were engaged in quiet conversation, both occasionally applauding an impressive move by Rita the sausage.
Mrs. Weasley and Fleur had retired to the sitting room to laugh over baby pictures of the Weasley clan. Fleur had become suddenly interested in baby pictures since she had discovered that she was soon to increase the size of the family album. Andromeda and Teddy had been the first to excuse themselves. Neville and Luna had returned to Hogwarts by way of floo powder after a quick breakfast. Percy had escaped even a quick breakfast by insisting that it was his obligation as the personal assistant to the new minister of magic to put the needs of the ministry first.
“Better run, Perce!” George had chided as Percy had slipped into the fireplace. “Kingsley might not be able to govern the wizarding world without his morning tea!”
“Tell Kingsley that we missed him at the celebration!” Mrs. Weasley had called just before Percy had disappeared into a green flame.
Harry looked around him once again and couldn’t help but mourn the empty spaces. He remembered back to the last time that they were all gathered together around the Weasley table. It had been his seventeenth birthday, and there had been so many people that they had decided to celebrate outside. Remus and Tonks had been happy newlyweds, and Fred and George together had been wreaking their usual havoc at every turn. Looking around the table now, Harry realized how young everyone was. These were the people that he had started school with”the children who had learned to fight the Dark Lord by his side, and had suddenly become the adults before his eyes. Nearly all of the figures who had taught them to fight and who had earned their unconditional admiration--Dumbledore, Sirius, Moody, Lupin, Tonks…even Snape”all were now absent from the table and, as with his parents before him, the next generation had been left to carry on the legacy.
These grave thoughts must have reflected in his expression, because Arthur grabbed his shoulder and brought him back to reality.
“Harry!” he said cheerfully. “Have some more bacon. I’m sure that Bill can spare a back-up dancer for a good cause!”
“Thanks, Mr. Weasley,” replied Harry politely, “but if I have any more for breakfast, I’m afraid my stomach will have to apparate back to Sirius’s house separately.”
Harry never referred to 12 Grimmauld Place as his home, though Sirius’s will had confirmed that, in every legal sense, the house was his. He never used the term “home” to refer the morbidly mysterious house that had once been the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. To him, it would always belong to the Black family, and only truly earned by the loyalty and bravery of the last two heirs”Regulus, who had seen the error of his ways and had given his life to correct them; and Sirius. Oh, but it still hurt after so many years to think about Sirius.
“You’re not going today, are you?”
Ginny had momentarily redirected her attention to Harry and was in the process of employing her most effective weapon against him”her eyes. She gazed at him, innocent and imploring, and said in a clever, charming tone, “You promised that you were going to stay and help me with my
Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T.”
Just looking at her, Harry felt a weak smile creeping over his face. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was excellent at it, but he couldn’t let her win this time. He, Ron, and Hermione really did have to go today. They had things to discuss that only seemed appropriate to speak of in the security of the house at Grimmauld Place. Harry wanted to tell Ron and Hermione about his nightmare and the aftereffects without having to dodge Mrs. Weasley every few minutes. There was also the subject of their N.E.W.T.s, which Hermione had been drilling them over since they had both agreed to take them this year. Hermione had taken them only one month after the battle. Harry, who had spent his seventh school year wandering around the whole of England looking for horcruxes, had never imagined that he would have lived long enough to take his N.E.W.T.s, let alone that he would be taking them alongside Ginny. It was already proving to be a somewhat unmanageable distraction.
Harry noticed Mr. Weasley smirking beside him. After enduring nearly seventeen years of the same cunning treatment from his only daughter, Harry imagined that he was experiencing some relief that this particular torch had been passed. Harry felt his willpower faltering. What would be the harm in staying one more day in very pleasant company? He did the only thing that he knew might work.
“Ron!” he said a little too loudly, pulling Ron from a spectacular finale in which Rita the sausage was preparing to perform a perfect pirouette directly into Bill’s mouth. “Tell your sister why we have to go today!”
“Of course we have to leave today!” responded Hermione quickly. “You both still have loads of work to do for Potions and History of Magic. Ron, you haven’t even started on your Draught of Distraction, and you both still need to finish your parchment on the Ghost Decree of 1642! I promised professors Binns and Slughorn that you would be able to turn it all in before the end of next week!”
Ron groaned. He and Harry had only escaped repeating their seventh year with the majority of their classmates by agreeing to enter into the auror training program”a condition that they did not hesitate to accept”and adhering to a strict study schedule that would catch them up on missing materials and require them to take their N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year with everyone else. This condition was not accepted as lightly, as Headmaster MacGonagal had appointed Hermione their official "tutor".
Ginny gave Harry a look of mock defeat that was somehow not convincing in the least. Her shoulders sagged slightly, but the sparkle did not leave her eyes as she smiled coyly back at Hermione. “Well, if it’s coming from his tutor, I suppose you win…” She rounded on Harry again with a smirk that nearly melted him. “For now.”
The play ended. Hagrid’s voice rang through the final applause and the cries for an encore.
“Great ceremony last night, wasn’t it, ‘arry?” he asked. “Poor ole Grawpy had a bit too much t’ drink. He was asleep afore the fireworks even started.”
Harry imagined a sixteen foot drunken giant stumbling around the Hogwarts grounds and grinned. The night before had been one of tragedy and celebration. It had marked one full year since Voldemort’s downfall, and the fight that would live forever in infamy as the Battle of Hogwarts. For one day, all classes had been cancelled, and for one night, students were allowed to forget about their upcoming exams. The night had been reserved as a tribute to those who could not celebrate Lord Voldemort’s demise”the 54 who had died right there in the Great Hall as well as the countless others who had met their final fate at the hands of The Dark Lord during his nearly two decade reign of terror.
All those who had fought side by side in the battle had been invited back to Hogwarts to celebrate the victory, as well as the changes that it had brought about. Many had returned. It had been a rather exhausting night for Harry. Most of those who had returned had wanted to thank him personally, or had wanted to ask him about his role. Some had brought their families, who were dying for the chance to see the "Great Harry Potter" in person. There had been a wonderful feast, and an impressive fireworks display featuring Weasley’s Wild Firewhizzbangs by none other than George Weasley himself in honor of his brother.
Fred’s real memorial had come after the feast, however. Those that were allowed were invited back to the Burrow where Fleur and Mrs. Weasley had spent the entire week making enough dessert to feed an army. That is exactly what they got”Dumbledore’s Army to be specific. All those who had shown up at the Burrow had been part of the original Dumbledore’s Army and all had come bearing brilliant memories of Fred, Professor Dumbledore, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevy, Katie Bell, Lupin during his year as a professor, and all those who had fought and died so young only one year earlier.
Harry had spoken to Headmaster MacGonagal, and he had persuaded her to allow him the use of Dumbledore’s Pensieve, which was still kept in the headmaster’s office, even though the job of headmaster had changed hands several times since Dumbledore had last occupied the office. They had all taken turns placing their memories into the Pensieve, and Fleur had used an Augmentus Charm to project the images into the sky. They had fallen asleep laughing along to the pleasant memories of some very impressive Quidditch moves, horrifyingly witty pranks, awkward first moments, and stoic acts of heroism. Harry hadn’t truly understood how great a loss was actually suffered until he saw the fallen remembered through the eyes of those who loved them most.
He especially enjoyed Bill and Ginny’s memories of their brother. Only George had been closer to him, and he had refrained from sharing anything. Harry suspected that the memories he had shared with his brother were still so deeply a part of him that he could not share them with others who would never understand. Harry felt the same about his memories of Sirius. He had glanced over at George several times during the night, and had imagined once that he had seen tears reflecting off his cheeks, though Percy had moved quickly to block his brother from view. The last memory Harry had of the night was falling asleep hand in hand with Ginny, and a brief glance at an army of remembered red heads battling on brooms overhead.
Hagrid and Mr. Weasley were still staring at him, waiting for an answer.
“I think that it was brilliant,” he responded with a smile that he hoped seemed authentic. “But I'm sure that Fred and Sirius would have liked what happened afterwards more.”
A look of melancholy reflection appeared on Mr. Weasley’s face, and he gave a stifled snort that could almost have been a laugh. “Fred and George together! Imagine the chaos they would have caused! His voice took on a sarcastic tone. “Probably would have made a fortune selling some candy that turned teachers into toadstools. We’d be getting Howlers for a week!”
The sarcasm hadn’t reached his eyes, and Harry knew that Mr. Weasley loved to speculate about what Fred would be up to if he had not died such an untimely death. He had been so very proud of the success of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and one of his greatest regrets had been that he hadn’t had the time to let Fred know this before the final battle. Mr. Weasley’s gaze shifted to his surviving twin, who was now fighting with his older brother over the last piece of bacon. Bill had George’s head in a vice grip, and was tickling his Goblin ear as George laughed hysterically and threw random unaimed punches at anything within hitting distance.
“George,” Mr. Weasley called across the table. “Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?”
“Only once or twice an hour this entire year,” George answered, He grinned and tapped his Goblin ear, which was bent at a rather odd angle. “Don’t worry, though. I can only hear you half the time.” Harry and Ginny snickered as George continued. “You reckon you’ll still be proud of me tonight when the Howlers start rolling in from all the Toadstool Truffles I sold yesterday?"
Bill made a second attempt at the bacon. George cut him off with a swift punch to the arm, and Bill’s scathing retort was cut off by Fleur’s musical laughter as she and Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen. A familiar sigh echoed as Mrs. Weasley surveyed the damage.
“Alright,” she said. “Who’s going to help clean up this mess?”
Harry and Ron agreed suddenly that now was the perfect time to start on the homework that awaited them at Sirius’s house.
The Legacy of Four by spaniard
Chapter Notes: A celebration to remember those who died exactly one year ago.
Chapter Endnotes: Up Next: Homecoming