LANDSLIDE, james potter [2]

Epilogue

Harry James Potter thought he understood pain. It seemed like he had been surrounded by it for as long as he could remember. From the age of one, he had been an orphan with the world on his shoulders. And its crushing weight seemed to break him more every day.

One might have thought that once the war he had been destined to fight in had been won, then there would nothing more to think about. The pain would disappear and the weight would be lifted. For some time, Harry had believed in that. He had clung onto the hope that not only would the world be a better place for everyone, but perhaps for himself. He hadn't lived in a good world before. It would truly be paradise. 

But just because the fear for his life was gone, didn't mean the pain was. It seemed more prominent than ever. Because, if it wasn't for him, then maybe so many people wouldn't have died. The last time they had taken a count, it looked like over fifty people who were on his side had died. All people who had taken the plunge, wanting to fight for him. But they just ended up dying. There was no happy ending in it. 

He knew every single one of their names. He made sure that he did. He didn't ever want their sacrifices to be forgotten. Colin Creevey, who had been so young and excited of being a wizard. Lavender Brown, a girl who's heart was too big for her own good, for better or worse. Fred Weasley, who had brought so much laughter and joy into the lives of everyone he knew. Severus Snape, who was flawed but had been fighting secretly for so long. Nymphadora Tonks, a strong and hilarious witch Harry had looked up to. Remus Lupin, one of his dad's best friends and one of the greatest men he had ever known. And Lyra Malfoy. Lyra Malfoy was dead, too. 

It almost hadn't seemed real when he had seen her body on the battleground, so close to Remus's. They had died so close to each other, he'd heard. She had watched him die. She must have been heartbroken. 

It still didn't seem real when a specter of her appeared from the Resurrection Stone, hand-in-hand with his father, looking much happier than he had ever known her. He knew only spirits of those lost could be brought back with the stone, but his heart had refused to admit it. 

It didn't seem real when Harry got the satisfaction of watching Rabastan Lestrange been sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban, though he hoped the lifetime wouldn't last long. That piece of scum deserved even worse in Harry's opinon. Lyra had trusted him, considered him a friend for a long time. At his trial, he had looked mad, convinced he killed because he deserved to, because she had loved him. That was the arrest that had pleased him the most. 

But as he had his godson, the orphaned young Teddy Lupin, on his lap, sitting next to the boy's grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, Lyra's sister, he understood it must have been real as he looked upon Lyra's son, Draco Malfoy. 

While he had never been Draco's biggest fan, he couldn't help but feel awful for him. His skin was paler than he had ever seen it, even now that it had become summer. He looked thin and his hair wasn't gelled back and smooth as usual. He was taking his mother's death rather hard. Harry understood that well. 

But Draco wasn't orphan. His father, Lucius, stood behind him. His face was stoic as ever as he wore his extravagant robes. On first glance, one wouldn't have thought his wife had only died a couple of weeks ago. But his hair was more matt than Harry remembered, he kept his gaze straight onto the wall in front of him, his hand gripping onto Draco's shoulder. It wasn't obvious whether he was giving his son support, or trying to get support for himself. 

His sister-in-law, Lyra's only other surviving sister, was next to him, standing behind her own son, Marcus. It was the first time Harry had seen Narcissa Flint without make-up on. She had obviously just been crying, as her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red. Her husband, Hector, stood at her side and held her hand. In front of them both sat their son, Marcus, next to his cousin.