{Epilogue II}

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The Sad One...

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to say to anyone at the funeral, and she had a terrible suspicion that Harry was in the same boat. James was his father, yes, but he'd been his father for a total of one year when he was small, and this most recent month that they felt like they'd stolen.

Despite the sheer amount of people who would have actually showed up to the funeral, they had been forced to cap it at just below two-hundred, all of whom were faces and people James himself could have named if he were there.

Harry managed to escape to Hermione where he confirmed her suspicions, grabbing onto her hand and leaning on her shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hey, Harry."

"Merlin, you'd think I'd be able to handle myself a little better than this, but I either feel like I'm faking it or I'm not feeling nearly enough grief as I should."

Hermione sighed, looking around the room in the ministry unmoving, her eyes glossy.

"You already mourned your father once, Harry, it's no wonder you'd be able to get on faster than everyone here."

"I reckon you're right. I barely had him back for a few weeks, and he didn't even tell me he was going-"

"You couldn't have stopped him from doing the same thing to you as he did to all the other aurors who went with him. This isn't your fault, either. Come on, don't do that to yourself, you've still got you mum and your sister."

"Speaking of," he said, removing himself from her hold and looking her dead in the eye, "How are your parents?"

"Harry-"

"No," he waved her off and nodded to someone who tried to talk to him, "Tell me, please, if one more person tells me they're sorry I might bloody cry again, and since I'm fine, they're content with bothering Draco."

Hermione only laughed.

"You're terrible, Harry."

"Come on, I know you and Severus went last night."

"We did," she said lowly, "And they were actually very nice to us both. I explained what happened, they sent their regards to you, and I've never seen them take such interest in anyone I've brought 'round as they did Severus. Circe, Dad actually liked him once they got past all the awkwardness, and Severus has never been more happy for me. It was... lovely, thank you, Harry."

He smiled and kissed her cheek, thankful there was no press allowed into his dad's funeral lest they take that the wrong way. Not that Draco wasn't looking at him with helpless eyes from across the room.

"Harry-" Iris was beside him, looking completely uncomfortable in the black dress robes she was in, "Merlin, mum's really done it this time, can't you morph this thing into something but make it look like I'm still wearing it?"

"Can't you?"

Iris glared at him.

"I failed transfiguration, you git. Hermione, please," she tried, turning to the smartest of them all.

She only softly chuckled before doing as the youngest Potter asked.

The garment was now a much more comfortable set of feminine robes with pants and a looser top, as opposed to the previous dress.

"Bloody hell, thank you."

Hermione nodded sadly, and an aching silence fell over them as opposed to the murmurs surrounding them.

"Everything is different now, and I know you two aren't quite even acclimated to, you know, everything as it usually it, but dad was so-"

Iris wasn't much of a crier, even during this moment of James Potter's funeral, there wasn't much in the way of tears from her. She did seem slightly angry, an easier way for her to show the heartbreak.

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