As We Survivie: Part 1 - The Evolution of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 3 - Mourning

(Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Stories or any of the main characters, only the plot and a few momentary characters are mine. I've tried to stick as close to Rowling's stories as possible, but as the story progresses, I will deviate from it. Apologies for the swearing, tried to keep it at a minimum but the story didn't feel authentic without it.)

Chapter 3: Mourning

Draco rose from the table at six in the morning. There was a pile of folded parchment in front of him, and his eyes were clear and bright despite his sleepless and tortured night. The meal that Winky had provided had been more than excessive, and the half that he had eaten had revived his spirits and given him renewed energy. Even though he had spent the night feeling the wrongs he had done to others, really feeling them for the first time in his life, he now had a sensation of being strangely cleansed and purposeful. Because he could now understand the cruelties he had been guilty of, the deep but confusing guilt he had been crippled by the night before had given way to a graver and more tangible remorse that drove him forward and motivated him. He changed into fresh robes and strode from his room, his jaw set in grim determination, as he thought of what might wait for him overhead. But he was done running, done hiding and being a coward. He would face whatever came, and do what he could to set things right.

He left the dungeons and made his way to the Great Hall, where Minerva McGonagal greeted him almost immediately. "Mr. Malfoy, are you quite well?" She asked him. "We were very...concerned when you disappeared yesterday morning."

"Yes, thank you, Headmistress." He said respectfully. Then smirked slightly when she gave a start and glared at him over her spectacles.

"Are you quite sure, young man? You do not seem to be yourself..." She asked, looking at him with the air of a hospital matron examining a patient.

"Quite sure, Headmistress, I had a...unique set of experiences yesterday and during the battle. My life was saved three times by Harry Potter. It…changes you, having your life saved by someone you were once...less than friendly with." Draco did not care to mention what had happened the night before, although he realized that it might become necessary in the future. 

"Indeed. I imagine it would." She said, giving him the kind but severe glance that students now recognized as her signature stare. "The Bloody Baron said you had chosen an unusual path...Well. Right this way, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter and I have some things to discuss with you."

Draco followed her, his hands in his pockets. He could feel the eyes of the other people in the room, and wondered if they reflected curiosity or hatred. There was so much work to do, to repair the wrongs he'd done, and some, he knew, could never be fully mended. He felt despair wavering on the edges of his consciousness, and then he looked up and saw McGonagal gesturing to a place at a table, where Potter was already seated. He turned the despair off and shoved it into a dark room at the back of his mind, as he sat down.

"Now, eat first, then we will cover the logistics." McGonagal said briskly.

They ate in silence, each of them immersed in their own thoughts and reflections. Sometimes Draco glanced at the other two, and he saw darkness and a sorrow on their faces, and their pain shot through him like a physical wound. This startled him, it was a new experience to really see another person's pain, and it highlighted, in his mind, the selfishness of his own despair.

They ate quickly, and as she finished, McGonagal wiped her mouth with a white cloth napkin and said, "Now then, gentlemen, down to business." They both nodded looked up at their Headmistress.

"Mr. Malfoy, much of yesterday was spent renewing the protective spells around the school, and renewing the charms that prevent muggles from seeing the grounds as they truly appear. As you were not present yesterday, you missed the announcement about the funeral for those who died fighting against Voldemort, which will be held today by the lake. They will be buried next to Albus Dumbledore's tomb." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. Draco nodded, it was fitting, it was good, but his heart was uneasy.

"And…and what of the...the others?" He asked, his mouth dry.

"The bodies of the others were sent to their families." She said, her face hard and cold.

"And those that had none?"

"They were buried elsewhere."

He nodded numbly. It was sad, but it was more than he could have expected. “What about my aunt’s body?” He asked.

She gave him a measuring look, and said, “Your parents have already overseen her interment in the Black family vault, which you are welcome to visit if you so desire.” He could see the battle against hostility behind her eyes, and he shook his head.

“No.” He said, “I don’t care to see the body. I probably should, she was my aunt after all…but…” He trailed off; unsure of what to say to express what he was thinking, feeling. She nodded at him, a more friendly expression on her face. 

Potter took up the explanations, "The funeral will be at 10 am this morning. We will leave any work that needs to be done till after then."

"What needs to be done?"

"We have a list, here." She handed him a sheet of parchment, with neat, small writing on it, which he recognized as Granger's.

He glanced down the list. "There are still...still blood stains in places that need to be cleaned up?" He asked. The other two nodded.

"The other teachers and I will take care of that before the families and friends arrive for the funeral." The Headmistres said rigidly.

"I'll take care of it." Draco said coldly, because he did not know how else to say it. Then, by way of explanation, "I didn't lose any loved ones, not really, it won't be as painful for me."

He saw Potter look up, startled.

"It will take some time." The Headmistress said, uncertainly.

"Then I'd better get started now." Draco said firmly. "Unless there was anything else?"

"Just a few quick things." Said Harry, his eyes guarded but interested behind his round glasses. Draco nodded to him. "Kingsley would like to meet with you and Ron and Hermione and I briefly after the meal which will follow the funeral. The inquiries have been scheduled in preparation for the trials, and he would like to inform us of the arrangements."

"Very well," Said Draco, feeling as though he was discussing his own execution, which he very well could be, if word got out…but he bit back the fear that rose up within him.

"Also," McGonagal interjected, "there is the question of where you will be staying for the rest of the summer. We know you have quarters in the Dungeons, which you are more than welcome to continue to use, however, all the other students, as well as the Weasely family, who will be staying here for the Summer to help with rebuilding the school; will now be housed in Gryffindor together. If you wish to join the rest of them, there is more than enough room in Gryffindor to allow you a comfortable bed."

Draco stared at the two people sitting across the table from him wondering vaguely if they had both taken leave of their senses, "Wouldn't...aren't there people who will object?" He asked dryly. "I mean…I know I'm not the most popular person currently, and for good reason. I've been a right git to most of them." He said the last sentence reflectively, speaking towards the table, so he failed to observe the expressions on the faces of the other two, who were gazing at him as quizzically as if he were a newly discovered species of unicorn.

"They have...accepted the idea that you might be joining our living quarters for the summer. Actually, I was under the impression that some of them rather enjoyed the idea of being able to keep an eye on you." Potter said, giving him a measuring look, waiting to see his response.

"I'll...think about it." Draco said hesitantly. He did not relish the idea of being in close living quarters with a large group of people with whom he had shared a mutual hatred, realizing that most of them probably still hated him. However, did he did not savor the idea of being the solitary resident of the dungeons for several months. It was a difficult choice. Draco remained resolute to pursue the path of seeking to reconcile and provide reparation for the wrongs he had done, but he was beginning to realize that the path that he was choosing was going to be a painful one.

Harry nodded, as though this was more than he had hoped for, but said nothing. Instead, he silently handed Draco back his wand.

'Thank you." Draco said, staring at, "I've missed this."

"I know. Mine was broken for a long time this past year...after a run in with Nagini...anyway, I know what it's like to be without your own wand. It's bloody miserable. Sorry I couldn't give it back to you sooner." Harry said.

"You had a run-in with Nagini?" Draco asked, shocked, but seeing that Harry had no intention of explaining further, he said, "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you had it. The Dark Lord wouldn't have been defeated if you hadn't, would he? Or at least, he might not have been defeated as quickly... And, well, I'm glad he's gone. So, thank you." He and Harry shook hands again, and he was embarrassed to see that the Headmistress was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

“One more question, Potter.” Draco said quickly, “The Weasely family, are they staying because their home was damaged?”

Harry nodded slowly, “It was a strange house, mostly held together with magic. We think that the magic holding it together was broken a some point after the family had to abandon it, it’s just a pile of rubble and building pieces now.”

“Bloody war.” Said Draco, bitterly, he’d never really liked the Weaselys, but that didn’t mean he wanted their home destroyed. Harry nodded, and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, while the Headmistress gave a particularly audible sniff before marching off towards the hospital wing.

A short time later Draco headed out into the hallway, while everyone else was still eating. He cast a spell to detect blood in the corridor near the Great Hall. Much of it had already been cleared away, but he found a few places that had been missed. He used a scouring charm on it, trying not to wonder whose blood it was that he was clearing away. He did the same on all the floors, until he reached the left corridor of the seventh floor, which had suffered a devastating blow during the battle. As he rounded the corner, he instantly stepped back. Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the floor in front of a large hole that had been blasted in the wall. There was a patch of blood on it, in front of them, and Hermione had her arms around the other girl, patting her back soothingly.

"I...I just can't believe he's gone." Ginny said quietly, hiccupping through her tears. "I m-miss him so m-m-much."

"I know, I know," Hermione said, soothingly.

"A-are you sure he didn't...didn't..." Ginny couldn't get the words out.

"He didn't suffer at all." Hermione said soothingly, "He was laughing at a joke Percy made, and then he was gone. Just like that. I don't think he felt a thing."

There was a strangled sigh, and then Ginny said, "He...he would have liked that. Laughing at Percy's joke, he...he would have thought it really fitting. He always used to say that when he did go, he hoped he would die of laughter. Used to make mum so upset." And then she started sobbing again, quietly.

"Come on Ginny." Hermione said gently, after a while. "The funeral will be starting soon. Let's go get cleaned up." She rose and dusted herself off, and held out a hand to the younger girl who took it and rose stiffly.

Draco, who had sunk down against the wall next to the corner, took this as his cue to stand up and continue the job he had volunteered for. He took a deep breath and rounded the corner.

Hermione and Ginny looked up as they saw him, and he saw a glare of anger in Ginny's eyes. But he couldn't help himself. He stopped, and looked them in the eye.

"I'm really sorry." He said hoarsely, but trailed off when he couldn't think of what else to say.

"Thank you, Malfoy." Said Hermione, her brown eyes wide and quizzical. But Ginny just buried her face in her friend's shoulder and did not speak as they continued down the hall.

He watched them walk away, and felt a tight painful wrenching in his heart, that was beginning to become strangely familiar. He turned to the spot where the girls had been sitting, and saw the dried blood on the stones and wreckage of the wall. With swift, precise movements of his wand he cleaned the stones and then looked at the wall, hesitantly, before he waved his wand and sent the stones back to the places they had occupied before the battle. Whispering what he hoped was the proper incantation; he conjured a plaque over the spot where the hole had been. On this spot, 2 May 1998, during the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred Weasely bravely met his end. A sudden strange self-consciousness overtook him, as he turned and walked away feeling strangely guilty.

Draco finished what he was doing only a short time before the funeral was about to start, and made his way out towards the lake. There were seats set up near the tomb and the coffins that held the bodies of the dead stood in a line along the edge of the lake, each wearing a gleaming silver inscription on the surface. The sun gleamed in the sky, reflected on the water, which lapped quietly against the shore. He could see the giant squid far out in the lake, and what looked like the heads of mer-people staring across at the group of witches, wizards, muggles and squibs seated on the shore. Despite the beauty of the morning, the air was heavy and weighty with grief, and here and there a faint sob could be heard, carried by the quiet breeze.

He stopped at a tree nearby and sat down under it, watching but not entering into a scene where he felt certain he would be likely to cause pain and anger. He stayed partially hidden around the side of the tree, listening to the solemn voice of the elderly wizard who was speaking in a kind and sorrowful voice.

"Never," the man said, his voice echoing gloomily off of the stone walls of the school, "Never have I had to preside over the funeral of so many at one time. Never with so many young and innocent at once. Even during the first war against Voldemort, it was not like this, though many suffered and died tragically never before, in my lifetime, had there ever been a successful attack made on Hogwarts. Those lying here gave their lives bravely and without reservation to the cause of freedom for the wizarding world. They did not hesitate to join a battle that they knew could be their last, and the tales of bravery and strength are too many to adequately recount here. Our world will always remember them as those who fought bravely for the cause of justice and freedom, for the downfall of Lord Voldemort. And now proudly, but with a heavy heart, I would like to turn the podium over to those who have been chosen to speak on behalf of the dead, Mr. Harry Potter..."

Draco stood hurriedly, and moved around the tree to face the figure on the platform. Harry paused in front of the podium, before speaking. He removed his glasses, and wiped them on a handkerchief, clearing his throat before speaking. "I did not know all of those we are burying here today, but I know that they were brave and strong and that they were willing to die to see our world take hold of freedom once again. I can tell you that five of the bravest and most admirable people I have ever known died the second of May.

"Severous Snape." There was a stirring in the crowd, and Draco wondered how far the story of Snape's love for Potter's mother had gone. Harry continued, silencing the crowd, "Severous Snape, a man greatly misunderstood by many including myself, a man who loved deeply and whose bravery, intellect, cunning, and loyalty made it possible for us to destroy Lord Voldemort in the end. His life was one of remorse, which he spent deeply tormented by his betrayal of my mother, the only woman he ever loved, a betrayal, which eventually led to her death.

“Snape lived his life tragically, separated by a wall of grief and bitterness from the people who he helped and served the most. When he killed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore last year, he did so at the Headmaster's own orders, and I believe this tortured him for the whole of his final year, the password to the Headmaster's office the day he died was Albus Dumbledore. And yet he made every moment of his life count as much as he could. With his final breath he left me vital information that allowed me to survive facing Lord Voldemort, and defeat him in a final confrontation. Severous Snape must always be remembered for his bravery, his skill, his cunning, and most of all the love with which he served even those who despised him. He will forever be known as one of the noblest of his house.

"Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, whose marriage this past year was greatly celebrated by those who loved them, had far too little time together." Potter stopped, breathing deeply, gripping the podium with white knuckles, when he continued his voice was broken, "Remus was afflicted with a condition that caused him to become a werewolf once a month, something that caused many to fear and hate him. But he was one of the best men, one of the kindest and bravest, that I have ever known. He was the last remaining close friend of my father's, and he cared for me as an uncle.

“Nymphadora, who her friends will always remember as Tonks, was a woman whose bravery and kindness and love will never be forgotten. She delighted and cheered her friends, even in the darkest times, with her abilities as metamorphmagus, a trait that has been inherited by their son, Teddy Lupin. Remus and Nymphadora died together, fighting for the cause to which they had devoted their lives. Together in life, together in death, they will live forever in the hearts of those who knew them." Draco bowed his head, and felt tears of remorse prickling in his eyes, as he recalled the callousness with which Voldemort had spoken of his cousin, telling his family that they needed to "trim the tree", he found himself bitterly regretting that she was now dead, leaving her child an orphan.

But he did not have much time to reflect, as Harry was still speaking. "Fred Weasley," with each name that he spoke Harry's voice became more and more rough and strained, "I saw Fred die, and he died the same way that he lived, laughing. Fred was a man whose tenacity and bravery and love for his friends and family were incredible. At even the darkest moments during the war he brought us laughter and hope. Only his twin brother George who sits here with us today matches his skill as a prankster and a wizard. He is greatly missed, not only by those who knew him, but also by everyone who has enjoyed patronage of the shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred Weasley will live on in our hearts and in our laughter.

"Colin Creevey." Harry said, and here he paused for a long time and the struggle on his face was painful to those watching, "Colin was a member of Dumbledore's army. He was brave and true and good, devoted to those he admired and proud to be a wizard. He was never to be seen without his trusty camera, and loved to record every moment through that lens. Colin believed so strongly in standing up for what he knew was right, that he snuck back into the school and fought in the battle after being asked to leave by the staff. He bravely fought against those who were much older than him. He is one of the greatest tragedies and one of the great heroes of the war. We are thankful to have his brother, Dennis, still among us. Colin and his bravery will never be forgotten." At this, Harry finally broke down, tears streaming down his face, and he left the podium abruptly, wiping tears from his eyes, and was engulfed by a sea of red hair, that filled the front two rows.

Harry was followed by several others, including a tall man with a long beard and hair, who closely resembled Dumbledore, but whose manner and turn of phrase was much less refined than the Headmaster's had been. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood and spoke of the bravery that had been evidenced in the battle, and awarded posthumous Order of Merlin 3rd class to those who had died. He also awarded an Order of Merlin First Class to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who received their rewards with expressions of reluctant sorrow on their faces.

As the crowd of people filed over to the already prepared graves, Draco sat back down, and stared out across the water. He could hear more words of memorial being spoken, but they barely seemed to touch his consciousness as he gazed out across the water. He could hear the sounds of weeping, and the thuds of dirt falling gently onto coffin after coffin. Far in the distance there was a haunting, musical sound, that reminded him vaguely of a phoenix song, and he wondered if Dumbledore's bird was somewhere nearby, mourning the dead. And somehow, the thought comforted him.

He stood and turned back towards what was now the Hogwarts graveyard, he could see Dumbledore's tomb, now standing like a sentinel over the graves of those who had fallen in the battle. His grey eyes were observant and alert, but they hid a heart in turmoil and pain. That so many should have died...that so many should have suffered in this way...and he felt the knife of regret twist in his heart, and sorrow poured from him like blood, but invisible. A figure broke away from the sobbing masses by the graves, and came towards him. It was a woman, a woman with curly brown hair that was beginning to turn to gray. She was tall and stately, and her face was so much like that of his aunt Bellatrix, that Draco took an unconscious step back as she approached. But her dark eyes, though proud, were kind and sad, and she was carrying a small bundle in her arms.

"Draco Malfoy?" She asked as she approached him.

"Yes, Madame." he said respectfully, "Would I be right in thinking that you are my aunt, Andromeda?"

She nodded, and he could hear the unshed tears in her voice as she said, "And you are my nephew, Draco."

"Your daughter, my cousin, she was Nymphadora...she married Professor Lupin..." He asked hesitantly.

"Yes." She said, gently.

And suddenly, his mouth was dry, and it was difficult to speak around the choking sensation in his throat. "This..." He gestured to the bundle, "Is this..."

"Their baby boy, Teddy Lupin." She said, and softly folded back the blanket that was covering the tiny boy's face. His hair was a brilliant shade of dark blue.

"His hair? Is it...how?"

"He's a metamorphmagus, just like my daughter."

Draco nodded, and then said, "I'm sorry. It's not fair that all of us survived when you have lost so many."

She smiled sadly, "They died bravely, and they died to make the world a better place for little Teddy. I wish they were here, but I am proud of what they did."

"Teddy, is that, was he named after..."

"After Nymphadora's father, my husband."

"He was a muggle-born. The one who gave the snatchers so much trouble?"

"One of many." She said, and there was a fierce, proud, anguished look in her eyes, that startled him and wounded him. "He would have been so proud to see his grandson. Remus always thought that we were horrified that Nymphadora married him, but we were proud. He was a brave and good man, and he loved her, though he was a little bit old for her."

"I'm sorry that he can't know them." Draco said quietly.

"It's not your fault." Andromeda said, almost sharply.

"But I'm still sorry, they didn't deserve this."

"No. But their memory will live on, and Teddy will grow up knowing that they died so that he could live in a better world than the one they grew up in."

"I wish I'd done more, been brave like they were." He said. "Maybe if I had been things would have turned out better."

"Or they could have turned out much worse. You can't live in the past, Draco." She said kindly. "You can only move forward, if you look too long at the past it will spoil the future for you, and taint the memory of the loved ones who died."

"I don't think I loved anyone who died." He said starkly, "I was friends with...with one person, but I'm not sure I really loved anyone but my parents until recently. I didn't know you could."

"Then love now. And keep loving, even when it hurts." She replied.

"I'm afraid." He said, and he was surprised at his own honesty. "I'm trying to be brave, but it's hellishly hard...sorry...I..."

But she surprised him by laughing slightly, "It gets better...easier with time. Ted, my husband, taught me that. I was so afraid when I first realized that I was falling in love with him, I tried to stop, but I just couldn't. Loving him, letting go of family prejudices, it brought out what was best in me."

"Can I do anything?" He asked suddenly, pushing aside the growing tremor that rose in his mind.

She looked at him thoughtfully, and then said, "Harry is Teddy's godfather. He's going to be visiting regularly, to get to know him and talk to him about his mum and dad. Come, be family, get to know Teddy."

"I will." He said. "I wish I'd known your family, growing up. Things might have been...different."

"It must have been hard, growing up in that great big house all alone."

"It was lonely, but mother was always there and my father, well, he tried. They loved me, in their way."

"Your mother was always an easier person to love than Bellatrix, much more caring. Much more kind, in her own cold way."

He flinched at Bellatrix name, and she noticed.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Was she...was Bellatrix very hard to be around at the end?"

"Azkaban...it changed her, mother said, she was more than a little insane by the time she came to live with us. But she can't have been that amazing to begin with. I've...I've heard her talking about what she and Rodolfus and the others did to the Longbottoms...And I've seen what she was capable of..." He trailed off, interrupted by a cold, clammy wrench in the pit of his stomach as the image of an unconscious figure being shoved into Greyback’s arms rose in front of his eyes and he felt bile at the back of his throat.

"Bellatrix always was a little lacking in the finer emotions. I think she got the worst of the...that is to say, strange things happen when bloodlines are mixed too often...but, no need to get into that now." And, as if on cue, the baby began to cry heartily. Andromeda smiled down at him, making small, shushing noises, "He misses his mummy, poor lamb." She said. "I'd better take him up to the castle and feed him. It was...good to finally meet you, Draco."

"You as well." He said, and bowed to her, as she turned and headed towards the castle.

Draco followed her with his eyes as she walked away, and could hear the baby's cries, hearty and determined, inexplicably seeming to grow louder as she got farther from him. Then, the procession of mourners passed, coming away from the graves, led by a tearful Headmistress, who held her head high and proud, despite the tears that were visibly coursing down the soft wrinkles of her face and the small handful of black lace and linen clutched tightly in her hand. Flitwick walked behind her, wiping his eyes with a white handkerchief that was almost as big as he was. Then Hagrid, bawling into what appeared to be a large black tablecloth, with Professor Slughorn walking alongside him, patting Hagrid's back and dabbing at his own eyes with a large square of green silk. Pomona Sprout had her arm around a trembling Trelawny, who, in her grief, seemed to have confused one of her crystal balls with her handkerchief/ Firenze, the centaur, followed, looking dignified and noble, staring around with an abstract and interested air, as though the grief were something he could not quite understand.

And behind Firenze came Harry Potter, grim-faced, half-carrying Ginny Weasley, who appeared to have completely succumbed to grief, weak and white-faced and silent, her eyes closed and streaming. Arthur Weasley supporting his sobbing wife, his own face gray and wet. Percy Weasely, also crying openly, supported by Ron and Hermione who looked worn but stoic in their grief. Bill Weasely, the marks left by Greyback standing out harshly in his haggard face, holding his half-veela wife by the hand, his arm slung around another red-headed man, whose face was grim and hard.

Then came a muggle man and woman, holding hands and crying quietly, while a boy in wizard robes walked alongside them, his face blank and dazed. And Draco recognized him as Colin Creevey's brother, Dennis. And on and on the procession went, and Draco stood and watched, and felt the curious and sometimes hate-filled stares of the people who walked past, and he wondered if he should be there, and if he was only causing more pain. But he was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the anguished scene before him and twisting knife of remorse and regret that sent agonies through him.

As the procession disappeared into the school, Draco looked down at his watch. It was half past eleven; 30 minutes till the meal would take place. He looked around, and then headed over towards the new graves, reading as he went:

Colin Creevey, died bravely for his friends and for his school, still alive in love. 

Alavera McCreedy, gave her life defending the school she loved. Bravely she lived, bravely she loved, and bravely she died. Dead but not forgotten.

Remus Lupin: A dear friend, a loyal friend, a man who loved deeply, afflicted but not defeated, a man who loved well and was well loved by many.  And, on the same stone but farther down. Nymphadora Lupin-Tonks: A brave woman, kind and loyal, a good friend, treasured and beloved of many. In life they loved, not to be parted in death. 

Draco rounded the next set of stones but stopped, and hurried back towards Dumbledore's tomb instead. He had almost stumbled over George Weasely, sitting in front of his brother's grave, his face buried in his hands, unconscious of Draco’s presence.

Draco stood in the shadow of Dumbledore's tomb, wondering what to do. He knew that he was one of the last people the remaining twin would want to see right at that moment, but he wondered if anyone should be told, and if there was anything he could do. But the whole time, his mind screamed at him that this was not a situation that he was equipped for, and that comforting another bloke whose friends and family he had taken pleasure in tormenting was not something that was really going to work. And, besides that, comforting anyone was not really something that Draco, favored son of the houses of Black and Malfoy, had ever really been trained for. He was relieved, therefore, when he saw Harry hurry from the castle, and head directly towards where George Weasley sat. 

As Harry sat down next to George, the older man looked up and gave him a weak attempt at a smile. "Was it mum or dad sent you out here?" He asked, with unconvincing bravado.

"Ginny." Said Harry, simply, "She wanted to come check on you herself, but she's a bit ill at the moment, Hermione's looking after her."

"She's a sweet little terror." George said ruefully, "I don't think any of us really deserve having her as a sister."

"Nonsense." Said Harry, with a weak attempt at humor. "Bill's a great brother to her." George let out a hollow laugh, and shoved Harry half-heartedly in the shoulder.

They sat in silence for a while, the laugh had died too quickly and it left an empty wall between them. Then George nodded towards his brother's gravestone, which bore the inscription: Fred Weasely: Lived for laughter, and died with laughter on his lips. Fighting bravely for freedom and for right. 

"He was ready to die, you know." George said, "We both were. We tried to prepare for a scenario where only one of us would live, but we just couldn't do it. So, instead, we made a promise that whichever one survived would carry on the business...carry on laughing...but I can't seem to do it properly, the laughing. I always thought that I would be the one to go first, or that we'd go at the same time. I never imagined this..."

Harry looked at him, not knowing what to say, and he was glad he didn't because George continued speaking. "Does it ever stop hurting so badly?" He asked. "Does it ever stop feeling as though you were being ripped to pieces?" And there was blackness in his tone that struck Harry like a fist in the pit of his stomach, and Draco, who was standing frozen not far away, felt the knife thrust of sorrow and remorse that seemed to be haunting him through the day.

Harry was silent for a moment, wondering what to say to make things better, but the look in George's eyes told him that he needed to hear the truth, not platitudes, so he said, "It changes...over time. One day you feel like you are death itself, as though the world is crushing you and there is nothing you can do to carry on. But somehow you do it, because you know it's what they would want. And then, one day, you wake up and you can breath again, and you can forget for a little while and life continues. But then the grief...it just sweeps back over you like a fresh wound, and you have to live through it all over again. But you get used to it, the pain, and it gets easier to keep going. I think it's just love, you know, that makes you carry on. Your love for them, and their love for you."

"How many people have you lost Harry?" George asked quietly.

"I dunno. I can't count them, it's too hard to put it into numbers."

"I'm sorry, I never really understood before." George said, regret in his voice.

"It's okay. Your family's been brilliant really. Always made it bearable, knowing that I had you lot to come home to during the summer. I never knew what it felt like to have a family that cared before I met you..."

They were silent again, and then Harry said, "Dumbledore once told me, ages ago, back in first year, that death was just another great adventure. I keep thinking of that whenever I think of Fred. Well, for all of them, really, but Fred most of all. You two always seemed to be in one great big adventure, and it just seems fitting, somehow, thinking of this as just another one for Fred."

"I like that." George said hoarsely, "Great bloody git, heading off an adventure without me."

"I'm glad you're still here, George." Harry said, "I know it's selfish, but we couldn't bear to loose both of you."

George grimaced, "Sometimes I wish it had been me instead. I think Fred would have coped better with all of this. I...I just needed to say that to someone."

There was an awkward silence, and then Harry said, "Come on George. Let's go up to the castle. Your mum's making Fred's favorite pudding, and the house elves are having kittens over a witch doing actual work in their kitchens." 

"House elves having kittens? Now there's a thought." George said darkly, but as they walked away he threw a brotherly arm around Harry's shoulders. "You know, Harry, you really are family, and I'm really glad that Ginny has you. Mind, if you break her heart I will do unimaginably painful and horrifying things to you."

"I'm going to try and forget you said that. It's likely to give me nightmares." Harry returned, shuddering slightly. And George gave a dark, hollow laugh.

“Look at that, I laughed.” He said blankly.

“I hardly think that qualifies.” Harry said, and then they both let out a barking, mirthless chuckle.

Draco sat awkwardly on a chair in McGonagal's study, while Harry and Ron shared a sofa with Hermione. Kingsley Shacklebolt was talking in hurried, quiet tones with the Headmistress, who was peering over her glasses with a stern look that would have made anyone less brave than Kingsley shake in their boots. She appeared to be objecting to something he was saying. Draco thought he heard Ron mutter something about "Extendable Ears" and smirked slightly. Finally, after what felt like an interminable amount of time, they seemed to come to an unsatisfactory but acceptable agreement.

Kingsley turned to the four seated by the fire place, "I apologize for the delay." He said, his deep voice grim, but kind. The Headmistress and I wanted to meet with you to discuss arrangements for the inquiry that you have all agreed to be a part of."

They nodded, expectantly, and Kingsley sat down on a large armchair next to the desk. "The inquiries will begin on the first of June, and continue for the entire month, and possibly into July. The trials for known death eaters who have been captured will continue after that time. We will also be issuing warrants for those known Death Eaters who remain at large, which will mean that the three of you, but especially Draco, will be in grave danger for a period of time. It is imperative that you remain at the school for the time being, now that the protective enchantments have been restored, the castle is once again one of the safest and most secure places in Britain. Mr. Potter, once it is safe to return to number 12, you can arrange to have a new Fidalius Charm placed around the property. And I suggest that you, Mr. Malfoy, do the same with your Manor." Draco and Harry both nodded, looking strangely at each other.

"Miss Granger, I understand that you have some business to attend to in Australia?" The Minister asked.

Hermione looked at him, her face suddenly pale, "I...that is...yes. But if I need to wait...." She trailed off looking worn and oddly confused.

"If you wish I can arrange for the ministry in Australia to locate your family. But with Death Eaters on the loose, they will be safer if they remain anonymous for a little while longer."

Hermione nodded, her fists tightly clenched in her lap. "That's a good idea." She said hollowly, "I can go look for them at any point, whenever the Ministry thinks it will be safe. Although the help of the Ministry in Australia would be beneficial, I...I don't actually know where they are at the moment."

Draco swore suddenly, surprising everyone in the room.

"What's your problem, Malfoy?" Ron said, turning on him furiously, while the others looked at him quizzically.

"N...nothing. I'm sorry, that was inappropriate," He said, giving Hermione, a regretful look. "I...apologize."

Ron flung his arm around Hermione, who was staring at her shaking hands, giving him a vengeful stare. But Kingsley and Harry looked at him with a question in their eyes. He shook his head subtly. Kingsley pulled a collection of rolled parchment from his cloak and handed them each one. There was the official ministry seal in red wax on each roll.

"These," Said the Minister, "are your summons to appear before the Wizengamot. The four of you have the most valuable and important information for the ministry among all the witnesses of your age. Therefore you are scheduled to appear before the ministry on the same day, which is scheduled to take place on the 8th of June. You will be appearing one at a time before the Wizengamot, and then as a group at the end to answer final questions. A room and refreshments will be provided for the day, but I suggest you bring any form of entertainment that you may require for a long day. Any questions?"

"What order will we be appearing in?" Asked Draco.

"Mr. Potter first, followed by Mr. Weasely and Miss Granger, and you will come at the end." Said Kingsley.

"Is there anything we should do to prepare ourselves for the inquiry?" Hermione asked.

"It will probably be useful for you to commit to memory any events or facts that would be useful to the inquiry." He looked at Draco, "That goes for you especially, Mr. Malfoy, any persons, facts, or events that might be useful and helpful to us are vital at this time. Several high-ranking Death Eaters are still at large, and it will be imperative for us to catch them, lest one of them rise up and try to take his master's place."

Draco nodded grimly, and said, "I know that my uncle is still free, as are Travers and Yaxley, I do not know the names of all those who were captured at the end of the battle. Lists of names of those you have in custody would be helpful."

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Malfoy." Kingsley said. "Very well, then, I will see you all next week, I will be stopping in personally as often as I can to check on the progress of the school. I did receive your very interesting owl the other day, if you wish to discuss the matter further, I believe that Mr. Potter and myself can be available for a few more minutes."

He turned a quizzical eye to Harry, who replied, "Yes, of course. Not too long, though, I need to say goodbye to my godson." He blushed slightly, as though the phrase was a strange one to him.

"I would...appreciate that." Said Draco, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all." Said Kingsley, turning a firm eye towards Ron and Hermione, "Thank you very much for your valuable time, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely, I do not want to keep you from your friends and family any longer."

"What?" Ron asked. But Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, and nodded towards the door, "Oh, right." He said looking sheepish and they both rose, and said their goodbyes to the Minister, who Hermione hugged warmly leaving him looking a little taken aback. And they left the study quickly.

“Now, Mr. Malfoy.” Shacklebolt said, “Would you care to explain your rather unfortunate outburst earlier, before we get into the…other interesting business at hand?”

“Yes, of course, sir.” Draco said, feeling ashamed, “Hermione’s parents were known to the Dark Lord…Lord Voldemort, that is, and the night that he took over the Ministry the location of their home was found. He sent two Death Eaters to their house to apprehend them and use them as bait. But, when they reached the house they were gone, without a trace. I believe that they may have destroyed, or nearly destroyed the house in their anger and fear. The Dark Lord was not…kind to his followers who failed in a quest he laid out for them, even if the failure was beyond their control.” And he felt his eyes darken, as memories of torture and pain reverberated against his internal defenses.