Chapter Text
A funeral goer, however, he was not.
And yet here he was, at the ripe age of 17, attending his 9th.
Looking around, he was sure lavender would have hated this. It was a joint funeral, the bodies of classmates and friends lined up for the crowd of mourners to see one by one. Everything draped in ministry purple and gauzy black that reminded him of the muggle “witch” costumes Hermione had showed him.
Lavender’s casket was closed, Greyback maiming her beyond recognition. A picture of her, smiling and hugging pavarti, hung just above. She looked happy, and he had to grit his teeth in order to not look away.
No, lavender would have done better he decided.
She’d wanted to be a fashion designer, something she’d said absently while they’d cuddled, when she thought he wasn’t listening. He had been, he’d always listened. A lot of people thought because she talked so much, that she was air headed. But he knew better.
No, lavender brown was brilliant at divination, an amazing friend, and a lover by fault. She was smart with people, with the emotional intelligence of ten thousand teaspoons.
Lavender would have had the best draping fabrics, would have each person’s favorite flowers and snacks on their coffin. Their favorite music playing.
She would have wanted this day to be about love, and good memories, and grief. The kind of grief where you hold each other close, bittersweetly. Tears were finally streaming down his cheeks, and he let them.
After Fred’s…he’d given up on trying to stop.
He felt something squeeze both hands. Hermione on one side, Harry the other.Hermione stared at the casket, unable to meet lavenders smiling face in the photo.
It’d been Hermione who’d found lavender, who’d managed to blast greyback off of her, and who’d tried and failed to revive her before being dragged off by Remus. Raising her wand, she summoned lilacs, hands trembling as she arranged them.
“They’re her favorite scent.” She murmured, eyes firmly glued to the ground.
“Are they?” I asked weakly.
You should know that, you dated for nearly a year!
“Yea.” A tall blonde women answered, coming up to stand with us. I inhaled sharply.
Miriam Brown looked almost identical to her daughter, the same golden wavy hair, same face. Her big doe-brown eyes rimmed red from crying.
“She used to insist we grow them in our garden, every year.” Miriam hummed sadly, gripping a white handkerchief in her fist. “Tended to them herself, without magic. Said they just wouldn’t grow the same if you did.”
“Lavender used to keep a few on her bedside table, always.” Hermione sniffed. “Under some sort of charm to keep them from wilting.”
“She was always good at s-spells like that. The little things-“ My voice cracked.
Harry wrapped a steady arm around my shoulders and I sank into him, fully crying now.
They steered me away and into the pews, hugging me between them as I sobbed.
Infront of the pews and behind the bodies, someone had erected a stage of sorts. I caught a glance at all the family members sitting there, and turned away.
Someone was speaking into a microphone (Kingsley maybe?), but it all sounded garbled in my ears.
“The sacrifice of the brave women and men before us has ushered in a new age of peace and hope. And as such, we, at the ministry, will fight to honor and remember them justly. They were friends, family, classmates, and students. They were heroic, courageous souls who layed down their lives for what they believed in. Every last one of them.”
You should have been looking out for her, for everyone! A dark little voice inside my hissed. What was the last thing you said to her hm? You knew her for 7 years, and the last thing she’ll ever hear you say is how your done and breaking up with her!
“Colin Creeve-“ a new voice spoke, one that made me grip Hermione’s arms tighter. Pavarti.
“-Vincent Crabbe, Lavender Brown.” She paused to collect herself. “And the many others who lay here today. You were all my class or house mates, and have all touched our lives in their own ways.
Lavender *sniff*-“ Pavarti’s face seemed to crack for a moment as she clutched the podium for support.
“-She was my best friend, my sister in all the ways that matter. Lav… you left the world a far better place than you found it! It has been an honor to be your-“ the flood gates opened, and padma had to drag her back to her seat.
The other mourners' speeches melted together. Words and tears and grief stewing into an awful sludge that stuck in the soul.
Harry nudged me and I raised my head a bit.
“They’re asking if anybody wants to say something.”
I looked over the crowd, locking eyes with parvati. She gestured to the podium expectantly.
You should go up there, you should say something. I gritted my teeth. You owe it to her.
But I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t stand, my feet wouldn’t guide me.
“I can’t.” I croaked weakly to the arms holding me up.
Pavarti’s glare stung like a physical blow.
“I’m sorry-“ she turned away as Dennis Creeve took the stage.
Hermione leaned over to Harry and me as Harry’s hands tightened. As hard as lavender was for me, the guilt Harry had for Creeve was worse.
“It’s time to go, we can go.” Hermione hurried us, gathering our things and guiding us to our feet. She stood between the both of us, walking us to the aperration point.
“Ginny, help me with Harry.”
Red hair filled my peripheral as my sister grabbed Harry’s upper arm.
Ginny looked tight-lipped and pale, as she’d been since the battle. Her hair hung loose and pulled over her front to hide the gruesome scars left behind by the Carrows on her neck and chest.
Together, the two women managed to haul us over the line, appearing us to Grimmauld place with a bang.
We all plopped onto the ratty sofa, still made up from our stay here in the beginning. It felt like a lifetime ago. Holding Hermione’s hand as we fell asleep, Harry finding R.A.B., learning about the locket.
I shivered, the snake-like drawl still echoing in the back of my mind.
“We have to stop doing this to ourselves.” Ginny sighed, running her fingers through her hair.
“We can’t just, not go.” Harry argued horsley, head bent into his hands.
“Kingsley could at least change his speech a bit each time.” I hissed, standing and beginning to pace.
“Or stop insisting that the ministry speak ‘on their behalf’.”Hermione griped.
I nodded, the weight of the day seeming to strain on my bones.
“I hate it.” Ginny spat. “I hate it! All of this shit! I can’t-“
Harry went to wrap an arm around her, but she pulled away.
"Can I talk to you harry? In private?"
Harry, face looking drawn, nodded. Standing, he led the both of them into the kitchen.
"You applied where?!"
Harry paused, mid way through filling the kettle for tea (Making it the muggle way just tasted better in his opinion).
"It's this training program, in America, Quidditch professionals and experts come from all across the world to teach."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "But it's so.. far away?"
Ginny puffed up a bit, brows furrowed. "I know that! But it's such a good opportunity and-"
"What did Molly and Aurthor say? Are they okay with you moving all the way out there?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm practically an adult harry, i don't need their permission."
Harry softened a bit, sheepish. "I know that." he admonished."I just... I thought you wanted to stay near the family? I thought you were going to train locally."
Ginny's eyes began to tear up. "I was going to, but I can't now. I can't stay at the burrow anymore, what with how mum's practically smothering all of us and fred..." Her voice cracked, and Harry resisted the urge to try hugging her again.
Taking a deep breath through her nose, Ginny took my hands. "The truth is, I'm drowning. It's too much; the funerals, being at home, the press." Ginny stared down at her feet miserably.
"Us?" I asked, ignoring the overflowing kettle in my hands.
Ginny's eyes widened. "No-I! why would you think that!?"
Because the press hounds us every chance they get, because Molly keeps talking about our wedding when we're not even officially back together yet. Because all of these deaths and funerals are my-
“Because I understand."
Ginny shook her head furiously. "No, you do not get to do that! Give an out or some bullshit!Giving up on me again!"
"I never gave up on you!" Harry argued, turning the water taps off a tad harsher than necessary. "And it's not bullshit!"
"You dumped me, Harry! You left me, at the mercy of the Carrows, for months! I didn't know if you were alive or dead or injured!"
"And I'm sorry! Truly ginny i can't even imagine." Harry deflated a bit. "You deserve the chance to get away from all of this crap. Deserve to find some peace, and we both need to figure our shit out before we even attempt to start dating again."
I slipped off my glasses, rubbing my hand over tired and stinging eyes. When I opened them again, Ginny was looking at me.
"I haven't told mum and dad yet."
"I figured."
"Mum's going to have a conniption."
I chuckled wetly.
"I'll stay, if you want me to." Ginny's voice grew softer. "I don't want to abandon you." The again part was left unspoken.
I squeezed her hand between both of mine.
"You need to do this. You should and I want you to."
"What about us?"
Harry gave her a pained smile. "I don't think there can be an 'us' until we're both a bit more whole."
Ginny nodded and squeezed my hand back. A small smile peaked up the corner of her mouth, tears now freely falling down her face. Smiling and crying, Ginny Weasley looked beautiful.
"So this is..."
"Not goodbye." I said firmly. "I've said too many goodbyes for a lifetime. This is a 'see you on the other side'."
Ginny leaned forward, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug. "Then here's to seeing you on the other side harry."
I smiled, burying my face in her sweet-smelling hair and kissing her crown. "See you on the other side gin."
Harry trudged back into the room with the sound of the floo flaring to accompany him. He slumped back down on the cushion next to me.
Ginny did not follow.
I spared a glance towards hermione, who shared my look of concern. we hadn't talked much in harry and ginny's absence, the time spent getting myself back under control.
She sat with me, gripping my hand like devil's snare as she periodically swiped at tears of her own.
"Harry? Are you alright mate?"
Harry turned to the side, exhaustion and great grief soaking each word.
"I think I just broke up with your sister. again." Before letting his head fall back into his hands.
I shared another glance with hermione. She didn't look surprised either. I'd known their relationship (Situationship? Romance?) had been rocky for weeks now.
With a great sigh, I grabbed Harry around the waist. Despite his squake of disapproval, I lifted him, heaving him closer to mione who enveloped him in a hug of her own. He seemed to melt between us, shaky tears of heartbreak and regret pouring out asmelt between us, shaky tears of heartbreak and regret pouring out as he regaled their conversation.
"You did the right thing harry. You're giving both of you the time you need to breathe." Hermione hummed, threading slight fingers through his messy back mop.
That was one of the main reasons i hated the horcrux hunt (Besides the obvious, fuck voldermort). With Slytherin's locket around my neck, Hermione's hand in his hair would have felt like a blow. But now, and here, it felt as it always did. Right, and as if we were just Harry, Ron, and Hermione again. I pulled them both closer, resting my chin against harry's shoulder.
"I know-" Harry sniffed, reaching to smooth a hand over his face though the sea of limbs. "It's just hard, Like i feel like I have to push everyone I love away in order to be a good person, you know?"
"Well, you won't have to push us away." I hummed.
Hermione smiled. "We're in this together-"
"-Til the end." We all chorused.
Harry sniffed and smiled."I feel like this day has warranted a drink."
A bottle of firewhisky floated out of its cabinet and into his outstretched hands.
"But it doesn't warrant glasses?" Hermione clucked, reaching for her own wand.
"Not tonight." I declared, covering her hands with my own. "Tonight we drink to be smashed!"
"Just as I'm sure mother magic intended!" Harry toasted, taking a large swig.
"And sirius no doubt.'' Hermione admonished, grinning despite herself as she took a larger-then-healthy drink.
"Hear!Hear!" I cheered.
We passed the bottle around, each pass equated with a familiar tingly burning and the lovely floaty feeling of being tipsy. I grinned, it'd been a good long time since I'd been properly smashed.
Mum had put a permanent alcohol ban on the house after George had almost "Tripped" out the window of his and Fred's old room after a particularly long bender.
Harry was standing now, regaling some lengthy story involving lots of arm waving and laughter.
Hermione giggled, tucking closer into my side.Snorting repeatedly at Harry's punchline, something to do with dragons and Umbridge's ungodly pink hats. Something she only did on occasions like this.
Flushed, Harry collapsed beside us, grinning ear-to-ear.
"You know what Sirius would say right now? About this whole mess with Ginny?" he chortled, polishing off the last of the bottle.
I snorted. "Nothing too awful I hope, that's still my sister we're talking about!"
He shook his head, waving me away. “No, no nothing like that! He'd say ‘a mess involving a pretty bird is the best kind!"
"and the remus would smack'em on the back of the head. "Hermione added, hiccuping lightly.
"And tonks would be laughing her head off at the lot of us." I finished.
We sat in silence again, only this one a bit less pain filled and a bit more booze-filled.
"I miss them."
"Yeah, me too."
"We don't have to.” mione chimed in with yet another hiccup. “Miss them, I mean.”
Both Harry and I turned to her.
Hermione had that dangerous look on her face. The one that always signaled something highly illegal.
"What do you mean?”
"It's like this." She leaned forward, pulling a packet of parchment out of her coat pocket. “I swiped this off of Kingsley’s desk a few days ago. *hiccup* It’s a basic quota of all the magical items the ministry detained from the raids they did on all the death eater manors.”
She riffled through, stopping at a page with ‘Most ancient and noble house of Greengrass' printed in bold.
Hermione pointed to something towards the very bottom.
“Time discus? What the hell is a time discus?”
“From what I can find, it was one of Voldemort’s unfinished ‘projects’. They found it in the Greengrass residence, under more protection spells and wards than the entire department of mysteries combined.
They think he was working on it before the prophecy, and forgot about it when he returned.”
“What do they think it does?”
“Supposedly, it’s like an ultra-mega time turner. So instead of each turn being an hour, it’s a year.”
“But why would he make something like that? He already had the horcruxes?” Harry puzzled, examining the grainy photograph that accompanied its description.
“Mate, the man was stark raving mad by that point. Must have been paranoid out of his mind!” I replied, stifling a snort.
“You think it was a backup plan?”
“Or an escape route, if things went to shit.” Hermione mused.
“Load of help that was.” I scoffed.
“The point is, if completed, the time discus has the ability to travel back years at a time.”
“We could go back and save everyone! Hermione you're a genius!” Harry yelled, bolting back up to pace.
"Always a tone of *yawn* surprised.” Hermione slurred, curling into me a bit more.
“We’d have to be smart about it.” I hummed. “When is key. If we go back to late, we can’t fix anything. Go back to early, and we might fuck things up more.”
"we'd need to make ourselves new identities too. Do research..."She trailed off, head coming to rest on Harry shoulder as he sat down again.
"Holy shit though.” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.
Soft snoring came from my left, Hermione out cold. I chuckled kindly, lightweight.
Harry stared down at the parchment in awe, almost trying to mesmerize the entire thing.
"We could actually do this mate. We could save everyone. Sirius, Remus, Fred-"
"all of them." I agreed.
He looked up at me, a fresh wave of hope washing over his features. He looked younger than he had in months, the sparkle returning to his usually dull eyes.
it ignited something in my chest far better then hope. The need for justice.