Harry and Amelia Potter

6.29

Ron, Hermione and Ginny stand with the staff. They turn and watch the throng of students part for Harry, Hagrid, and I.

Hagrid stops short, shattered by what he sees. Harry and I push on, kneeling. Dumbledore's eyes are closed, his face peaceful. Harry straightens his half-moon spectacles, wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth. Runs the back of his hand, gently, over the weathered cheek.

Then I notice something lying beside Dumbledore's ashen hand: the locket. I take it, consider it numbly. Then begin to cry, great shudders of grief wracking my body. Harry is doing the same. Hermione gives Ginny a nudge and she steps forward, drops beside him. At her touch, his head falls on her shoulder and she begins to stroke him. Ron looks on. Understands all.

McGonagall lifts a trembling wand to the sky and slowly the tip glows to life. One after another, students and staff do the same, lifting their wands in salute. The pinpricks coalesce into one blazing fire. The sky, briefly emerald, turns black once more. The Dark Mark vanishes.

The castle sits silent. Black banners fly on the parapets.

Silent. Desolate.

Dumbledore's chair, empty. The House tables, empty.

A tapestry tosses lightly in the breeze. The perch in the empty birdcage sways, squeaking gently.

Quiet. Still. Empty.

The door to Dumbledores office eases open and Harry and I enter. For a moment, we simply stand, staring. Taking inventory. Spying something, we cross to the great desk opposite. Looking down.

Dumbledore's wand.

Reaching out, Harry takes it in hand. Old, oft-used and bearing the impression of its owner's fingers, it is a strangely beautiful object. Harry traces his thumb lightly over the wood, transfixed.

McGonagall enters.

"Potters."

We don't  respond, lost in the wand. McGonagall's eyes drift to it, briefly, then study our faces. She frowns, trying to call forth some words.

"Potters, in light of what's happened... should you feel the need to talk to someone..." She falters. Harry gently sets the wand back upon the desk, retraces his steps to the door, pauses for one last look.

"You should know..." She pauses. "Professor Dumbledore..."

We turn then, studying her drawn face, no words necessary. At a loss, she finishes quietly.

"You both meant a great deal to him."

My eyes rise. High upon the wall, the past Headmasters snooze in their frames. The last looks remarkably peaceful, the trace of a smile on his lips as he sleeps. Dumbledore. We both nod, lingering one last moment, and exit.

I stand at the window, alone in the empty dormitory. At the doorway, I look back. As if committing it to memory.

Starting down the stairs, I stop. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry sit talking quietly. Hermione looks up. Smiles softly.

Later, Hermione and I stand by the ramparts while Ron, Ginny, and Harry stand further along, just out of earshot. I stare into the distance at the ashes of Hagrid's Hut. Hermione toys with the locket before us.

"Do you think he would've done it. Draco?"

"No. I could tell he didn't want to." I say quietly. "Besides, he was lowering his wand. In the end, it was Snape. It was always Snape. And I did nothing..."

Hermione studies me, then takes the locket from the rampart.

"Strange. Thinking this is a piece of Voldemort's soul..."

"Yeah, strange. Only... it's not. It's a fake." As Hermione reacts, I nod. "Go on. Open it."

Hermione pries open the locket and removes a piece of parchment folded in a tight square. She reads it aloud.

"'To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.'" She looks up. "R.A.B.?"

"Dunno. But whoever they are, they have the real Horcrux. Which means, it was a waste. All of it."  Hermione studies my troubled face, then Ginny, Harry, and Ron. "We're not coming back, Hermione."

Hermione nods. "We reckoned. Ron and me."

"We have to finish what Dumbledore started. I'm not sure where that will lead us... but I'll let you and Ron know where we are, when I can."

"I've always admired your courage, Mia, but sometimes..." she pauses for a moment. "you're really thick."

I glance at her with a raised eyebrow. "Excuse me, we're tied for first in our year."

"Yes, but..." she smirks at me. "You and Harry don't honestly think you can find all those Horcruxes by yourselves, do you?" She leans in to whisper, "You both need us, Mia."

I just stare at her. She cocks her head, smiling,
doing her best to coax one out of me. Finally, I do, briefly.

"Yeah. We do. But do me a favor." I tell her. She nods her head. "When I'm around? Keep the snogging to a minimum."

Hermione looks stunned. Reddens. "Like that's going to happen." She glances at Ron, shakes her head. "Besides, he's barking."

"Funny, he says the same about you."

"Yes, but I'm exceptionally perceptive."

"You're brilliant. You both are." I look off again and Hermione follows my gaze. She looks out over the grounds. Slowly losing herself. I can tell. She's taking inventory. Pressing it into a scrapbook.

"Do you think we'll ever come back?" She stops. Her eyes glisten briefly. Then she fights it back. She's a tough one.

I fight back my own emotion, reaching over, I give her hand a brief squeeze. Then release her. No one says a word. Until I break the silence.

"I don't know."

Hermione nods and my eyes shift, I consider Ron, Harry, and Ginny. As if sensing my gaze, Ron turns and we exchange a look, something unspoken but true passing between us. Ginny finds my eyes and I send her a quick smirk, glancing between her and my brother. Then my eyes fall on him. Harry. The one person I've spent my whole life with.

We know what we have to do now, but we don't know if we have the strength to carry it out. But we will try our hardest until the end. Together.

Seconds later a bird soars out from beyond the tallest turret and begins to stitch its way across the sky.

Ron, Ginny, and Harry cross to Hermione and I, and lean against the rampart. We all look to the horizon, watching the bird grow smaller while its song magically endures.

End of Year 6.