Harry Potter and the Last Terrible Vision

In the days that followed, Hogwarts prepared to hold a mass funeral for those that had lost their lives in the Great War. Professor McGonagall granted permission to end the school term a week early. The funeral was set for Wednesday morning.

Harry woke up early Wednesday morning. He chose to spend the night at Hogwarts, in spite of Mrs. Weasley's invitation to join the rest of the Weasley clan at the Burrow. He feared that he would feel out of place. The other Weasleys must harbor some resentment against me, after everything that has happened, he thought. He crept down to the common room. It seemed that it was only yesterday when he and Ginny shared many wonderful times together. He sat on the couch and stared into the fire that was crackling in the fireplace.

Sirius woke up early as well. He had spent the night in Gryffindor staff quarters. He entered the common room to find a tearful Harry sitting on the couch, hugging a small pillow.

"Harry," Sirius whispered calmly.

Harry looked up from the pillow and moved his eyes to Sirius. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He coughed, his eyes filled with tears.

"You didn't wake me. I'm just a light sleeper," Sirius reassured.

"I couldn't sleep. I can't believe she's gone," Harry murmured, his voice quivering.

Sirius sat down on the couch next to Harry, and gently rubbed Harry's back. He waited to see if Harry was going to say anything else.

"I miss her, Sirius," Harry whispered, struggling to hold back his tears. "I miss her so much."

Sirius did not say anything; he continued to sit quietly, returning a sympathetic look.

"Dumbledore said something once, while we were traveling through his Pensieve. He said something about how Voldemort didn't understand that there were much more terrible things than physical injury. I didn't say anything, because, at the time, I didn't understand what Dumbledore meant either."

"And now you do?" Sirius asked, encouraging Harry to keep talking.

Harry shut his eyes tightly and nodded. He punched the pillow out of frustration. He was ashamed to show his feelings so openly. He felt vulnerable, lonely and lost.

"What do you want to do now?" Sirius asked, encouraging Harry to express himself.

Harry did not answer right away, so Sirius repeated the question. "Harry, what do you want to do now?"

"I want to die. It hurts so much. I just want to die. It's my fault. I should have never let her come with me. Everything happened just like I feared it would. She's gone, and it's all my fault," Harry replied, as he continued to sob.

"Harry, listen to me. This was not your fault. Ginny is dead because evil people murdered her. You did everything you could to protect her. You have no reason to feel guilty," Sirius assured, trying to keep the dialogue going.

"What does it matter now? She's gone and she's never coming back. I love her so much. I miss her so much. I've never felt pain like this in my entire life, even when I thought I had lost you or when Professor Dumbledore was murdered. I have never felt like this before. It's never gonna go away."

"Yes, it will, Harry. It'll take time, but the pain will go away. You'll be left with wonderful memories of her. It'll be those memories that will give you the strength you need to go on," Sirius assured, trying to offer Harry some hope.

"I don't want to go on. I'm done with this. I'm done with all of this!" Harry replied angrily. His jaw began to hurt.

Realizing what Harry was implying, Sirius tilted his head to look into Harry's eyes. With a wrinkled brow and calm but firm tone of voice, Sirius responded, "Do you have any idea how many people you'd hurt if you do what I think you're talking about?" Sirius questioned. "Is that what you want, Harry? You want to hurt your friends and family? You want to hurt me, Harry? Is that what you want?" Sirius waited for Harry to respond, but all Harry could do was hide his face in his hands.

"I think of you as a son. Doesn't that matter to you? Considering everything that's happened, especially my being in Azkaban for so long, I know I will never be able to have a child of my own. You're it, Harry. You're the son I'll never have. You want to hurt me?"

Harry looked up and shook his head.

Sirius continued, "How about Remus? You want to hurt him? What about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? They think of you as their own. They've already lost one child. Are you going to put them through it again?" Sirius paused momentarily. He knew he was getting through to Harry, but he did not want to rest just yet. "How about the two people closest to you -- Ron and Hermione? Do you want the two people that have stood by you through thick and thin to think that your enemies beat you? Because that's what you'd be doing. If you let yourself get this way, your enemies will have you beat!" Sirius preached.

Harry stared ahead. He looked into the fireplace momentarily then turned back to Sirius.

"What am I going to do? I can't escape this. How can I face Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? They probably blame me for what happened to Ginny, " Harry murmured, still feeling the lump in his throat.

"No, Harry. The Weasleys don't hold you accountable for this," Sirius assured. Realizing that this was the reason Harry turned down Mrs. Weasley's invitation, he asked, "So, that's why you chose to stay here, instead of going with the others to the Burrow?"

Harry nodded.

"I can't take this. This is a pain like nothing I've ever felt. I'm not gonna make it, Sirius," Harry murmured.

"Harry, you're not alone. Take the strength and comfort that your friends and family want so much to give you," Sirius replied softly. He placed his hand gently on Harry's shoulder.

Harry thought for a moment. He swallowed, and the pain from swallowing caused a tear to fall from his eye. He quickly tried to recover it before Sirius noticed, but his efforts were in vain. His thoughts moved to Professor Albright.

Sirius pulled his hand back and folded his hands, allowing them to rest in front of him. He continued to watch Harry, knowing that Harry had more on his mind than the loss of Ginny.

"Sirius, how long did you know that Professor Albright was my great-grandmother?" Harry asked, glaring somewhat accusingly at Sirius.

"Since I knew your mother," Sirius replied with a tone of guilt in his voice.

"And all this time you never once thought of telling me?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked into Sirius' face.

"Harry, your great-grandmother asked all of us to keep it a secret from you because she felt, if you knew, you would not regard her as a mentor. You would love her only out of desperation, because of your need for a blood relative other than your aunt and cousin."

"That's ...that's rubbish!" Harry grumbled, gritting his teeth.

"Is it? Would you have regarded her with the same respect and awe? Would you have been as receptive to her mentoring?"

"Of course," Harry stammered, knowing that his answer did not reflect the complete truth.

"Harry, she kept it a secret from you, because she felt that if you had known, she would have developed a relationship with you that would have been emotionally charged. She feared that she would not be able to keep her wits about her enough to properly prepare you for what you had to do."

"So, she did this so that I could do what I was destined, according to the prophecy?" Harry inquired angrily. "Do you know if it was her plan to ever tell me, and not just before she was going to die? Do you think that maybe it occurred to her that I might want to know her as my great-grandmother, who cared about me, who loved me? I mean, she did love me, didn't she?" Harry asked, looking directly into Sirius' eyes and hoping to find the answer he so desperately needed.

"Yes, Harry." Sirius smiled. "She loved you more than you could imagine. She always said you were her one last hope for happiness. To see you grow up strong and proud and defeat the Dark Lord was her greatest wish. She used to say to Remus and me that it pained her to see you come and go and know that all she could do was watch you the way a professor watched her pupil. She wanted so much to just hug you the way a grandparent would hug their grandchild. She did love you, Harry. Knowing that should give you some comfort."

Harry turned away from Sirius. "It would have been nice to have heard her say it...just once." Harry remained silent momentarily then asked, "How is it that my Mum was Muggleborn, if my great-grandmother was a witch?"

"Well, it's rather complicated to explain," Sirius began. "Rose tried to explain it to Remus and me like this." He thought for a moment then resumed his lesson. "Your maternal great-grandmother was what Alchemists, who study genetics, call a heterozygous witch. In other words, she carried both the dominant, strong form of the magical gene, and the recessive, weak form of it. That's what makes the magical gene so special. It exists in two forms," Sirius explained.

Harry diligently concentrated on what Sirius was trying to explain. The lesson was alleviating some of the hurt he was feeling before. "Wait. I thought the magical gene is resilient," he pointed out.

"Oh, it is, indeed, but there are other things that can make it appear like it is not. I'll get to that in a moment. Let's finish with your family first. Now, as I was saying, Rose was heterozygous. She had both forms of the magical gene. Your great-grandfather, on the other hand, was a homozygous Muggle. He had both forms of the Muggle gene. When they had your grandmother, Daisy, she was born with the weak form of the magical gene and a Muggle gene. In addition to that, she inherited the chemical that suppresses the weak form of the gene from her father. Rose found out all of this during her research. Your grandfather, Johnny Evans also had the same weak form of the gene and suppressing chemical. The suppressing chemical, or enzyme, I think was what Rose called it, is somewhat common amongst Muggle genes," Sirius was quick to add.

Harry stared at his godfather in awe. He was amazed that Sirius was able to explain all of this. He continued to stare then a thought popped into his head. "Okay, I understand now how a witch can be Muggleborn, but what about Squibs?"

"Oh, that's easy to explain actually, although it took your great-grandmother years to prove it. Squibs could have either the weak form of the gene and a Muggle gene or the strong form of the magical gene and a Muggle gene. What happens is, through some unexplained phenomenon, the magical gene experiences an unexpected change or mutation, causing the magical gene to become dysfunctional. The person is born a Squib. He or she can see and touch magical people and things, but they can't perform any magic of their own. Did you know that your great-grandmother was a telekinetic?"

"Yes, Hermione found out and told Ron and me," Harry replied.

"Well, Rose found out that telekinetics are a lot like Squibs except that, instead of losing their magical abilities, they gain additional abilities. The mutation works in their favor, not against it. She also found out that this mutation also gives one the appearance that they have emerald, green eyes," Sirius concluded with a smile.

"Wow! That's amazing," Harry responded. "And my great-grandmother discovered all of this?"

"Yes, she did. Your great-grandmother was extraordinarily brilliant." Sirius smiled.

"Wait," Harry retorted, registering what Sirius had just said. "Emerald, green eyes and telekinetic powers are inherited together?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, knowing what Harry was about to say next.

"Then, I'm a telekinetic, too?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Well, that explains why I was able to do to Goyle what I did to him," Harry responded bitterly. There was another moment of silence, then Harry had a nagging thought come into his head that left him feeling more pain in his heart. "If I'm a telekinetic, then that means I could have saved Ginny."

"No, Harry," Sirius replied firmly.

"Why not?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Because you're not a Healer," Sirius replied.

"But, I'm a telekinetic!"

"Harry, in order to perform the Re-Vitalinque Charm, one must be a Healer. The charm is a carefully guarded secret. Only Healers, who are telekinetics, are trained to use it," Sirius explained.

Harry turned away from Sirius to reflect on what he had just been told. "I guess, you're right. My great-grandmother was very special."

"She was, indeed. I admired her greatly."

Harry became quiet again. He thought about what Sirius had just told him. How he admired his great-grandmother. Harry had a hard time with this, because he was experiencing some resentment toward her. He felt, by her keeping it a secret that she was his great-grandmother, she cheated him out of some pleasure in his life. He chuckled insincerely to himself.

Recalling the time he found the locket, Harry spoke as he gazed directly into Sirius' eyes, "You know what she said to me when I first found the locket, and tried to hide it from her?"

Sirius shook his head; a smile formed in the corner of his mouth.

"She said, 'if I'm going to be your mentor, we have to trust one another. We can't have any secrets'," Harry replied, with a voice that mocked the old professor's. "That was some secret she was keeping from me."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over at the Burrow, Ginny's death had taken its toll on two other men in her life.

Mr. Weasley woke up early to a barely lit sky. Ever since that fateful Sunday evening, he had not come to terms with Ginny's death. He walked upstairs to her bedroom. He had not entered her room since the day she had left for Hogwarts that last term. It was difficult sending Ginny to Hogwarts every year. He missed her smiling face every morning, like the ones she'd greet him with during the summer breaks. He missed her running down stairs in her bathrobe and fluffy, bunny rabbit bed slippers. He missed seeing her face at the breakfast table.

He knew, though, that while she was at Hogwarts, he could still visit her. This situation, however, was different. Ginny did not just go back to school. She was murdered. She was dead and he would never see her in this world again. Mr. Weasley suffered the worst kind of broken heart. He suffered the loss of a child.

Slowly, he approached the door to her bedroom. He opened the door and for the first time in over six months, he walked into Ginny's room. It was exactly how she had left it. Her bed still had the hand-made quilt that Mrs. Weasley had worked on so diligently. Her dresser draws were empty. Her closet was half full. Only a few trinkets, toys, and stuffed animals remained on top of her dresser, dressing table, and bed. On the walls were some posters of her favorite Quidditch team, musical band, and some other people Mr. Weasley did not recognize.

A closer look at her dressing table's mirror revealed some pictures she had wedged between the frame and the mirror. One picture was of Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Another picture was of Ginny and Harry sitting atop a hill, overlooking the body of water at Hogwarts. Harry looked so happy, he thought. They were so happy, so young and so in love. How could this have been allowed to happen?

Everything Mr. Weasley ever believed in was no longer worth believing in. He sat down on Ginny's bed. With every creek or crack he heard coming from the house, he could not help but think Ginny was going to walk into her room any moment. Then he quickly reminded himself that she was gone. Sixteen years had come and gone so quickly. He knew that he should be glad that he had those sixteen years. Ginny had been the first female child born in quite a few generations of Weasleys. Mr. Weasley was lucky enough to have had all those years with her. Still, he could not help feeling the painful void in his heart. He looked over at the pillows on her bed. Finding her favorite teddy bear, he picked it up and looked at it for a moment. Then the tears began to flow.

Mrs. Weasley heard the sounds coming from Ginny's bedroom. She quietly walked in to see Mr. Weasley weeping. Mrs. Weasley felt a sudden lump develop in her throat. She quickly walked over to the bed, sat down next to Mr. Weasley, put her arms around him, and let him cry on her shoulder.

"Hold me," he wept. "Don't let go. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind." His shoulders shook as he grieved into Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. Still, clinging to the teddy bear, Mr. Weasley allowed the rest of his body to go limp in his wife's arms. Mrs. Weasley began to cry too.

Ron and Hermione were awake now. They were sitting at the top of the stairs, one floor up from Ginny's bedroom.

"I keep thinking about what Professor Albright said -- I mean, Harry's great-grandma said. You know, how children are like parts of their parents," Ron whimpered.

Hermione said nothing. She put her arm around Ron to offer her support.

"I can't help but think, now that Ginny's gone, Mum and Dad will feel like a part of them is missing. This family will never be whole again." Ron's head dropped down on his arms, which were resting on his knees and sobbed.

"I can't remember the last nice thing I said to her. All I can remember is yelling at her during Quidditch practice, and the time we all went to Professor Albright's to talk about her problem, and I called her a prat," Ron sniffed, choking on tears and gurgling his words.

Hermione's eyes started to form tears, but she remained strong for Ron. She kept one arm around him, while using the other to hold his head. She kissed him lovingly on the forehead.

Later that morning, Mrs. Weasley did her best to prepare a breakfast for the Weasley clan. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione sat quietly together. They would leave later that morning for the funeral at Hogwarts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at Hogwarts, Harry returned to his dorm room. He knew the end of the term would be filled with bittersweet memories, but nothing had prepared him for this. To end one's schooling with a funeral was the last thing anyone wanted. Harry began to pack. He figured it would help take his mind off of things while waiting to attend the mass funeral in the Great Hall.

As Harry attempted to use his magic to open his trunk, he noticed that he was struggling. Every spell that he tried to cast needed to be cast more than once to get the right result. It was as if he had been drained of all his powers. Harry began to panic. Oh great! What's happening to me? I start my Auror apprenticeship next month! What do I do now? No, I'm just upset. I'm not concentrating. Just as Harry completed this last thought, Neville and Dean walked into the dorm room. They, too, needed to pack. Neville's arm was still in a sling, from an injury he received battling one of the mountain trolls.

"Neville, we'll help you pack in a moment," Harry assured.

"Yeah, thanks," Neville replied. "It's going to feel awkward seeing Ron and his family. What do you say to him?"

Harry and Dean just looked at one another. Dean felt a twinge of guilt, remembering how jealous he had been that Harry had been dating Ginny. The room suddenly grew uncomfortably quiet as the boys continued to pack.

"It sure is going to be weird not coming back here next September," Neville admitted, breaking the tension in the room.

Harry and Dean looked at Neville then at each other. All three glanced over at Seamus' bed. It became quiet again.

The boys finished packing and helped Neville get ready to go. Dean and Neville exited the room, dragging their trunks behind them. Harry stayed behind for a few minutes. He turned to give the room one last look. He remembered all the wonderful times he, Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean had shared. He knew the time had come for him to leave. Just before he turned around, he noticed something strange sticking out from underneath one of the pillows, on his bed. It was an envelope. He wondered why he had not noticed it before.

Harry walked over to the bed and picked up the envelope. On it was written, 'To My Dearest Harry'. He opened the envelope, pulled out the note and read it. It was from Professor Albright. His heart began to beat quickly. He could not believe that this letter was lying underneath the pillows all this time.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this letter, it could only mean one thing. I did not survive the Great War. I hope this letter tells you all the things that I never got a chance to tell you while I was alive. Before I even get started, let me get the record straight. It was you that kept me alive and going through all those years after I lost everything. It was your beautiful smile, your undying spirit, and ability to love in spite of everything you had to endure in your youth that gave me the strength to keep going.

I fear my time is limited so I will tell you all that I have been keeping from you. I am your great-grandmother on your mother's side of the family. Daisy, my daughter and Johnny Evans were your mother's parents. They were Muggles who carried the magical gene. I wanted so much to tell you all of this, but I feared that if you had known, we would have developed a closeness that would not have allowed me to remain objective while mentoring you. Please know that I love you and, at times, it was challenging for me to keep my emotional distance from you. I would have loved nothing more than to have been able to hug you and kiss you lovingly on the cheek just before I sent you off to bed or when I greeted you every morning.

Next thing I would like to share with you is some of the wisest advice that I believe exists. I know your heart holds anger and a strong desire to get vengence on your enemies. Please, Harry, I beg you not to fall into the trap that so many others fall into. Revenge will only lead to violence. This could lead to others taking pity on your enemies and making them into martyrs. Your mentor and my dear friend, Albus Dumbledore once said, 'There are much more terrible things than physical injury.' He was correct in saying so. The loss of a loved one is one example of this, but the other is to live one's life in complete humiliation. If you want to get even with your enemies, all you have to do is live well. This serves a dual purpose. First, it pleases the ones who love you and second, it angers the ones who do not. Health is a man's greatest riches. I wish you an abundance of it.

Finally, I feel the need to share with you this most important concept. While I was studying to become a Healer, I thought that cancer was the worst sickness in the world. As I continued to learn more about the world, I realized it was not cancer, but ignorance that ailed it, and its only cure was a library. It was at the library where I received my daily vaccine of knowledge. I tell you this with the hope that you make regular visits there as well. Between the unconditional love that your mother and Ginny have given you and the daily doses of knowledge offered to you, you will have an impenetrable shield that will protect you against all evil.

Harry, I'm sorry our time together was so brief, but it was at this time that I was the happiest since that terrible night so many years ago. Remember, Harry, if you need me, you will not have to look farther than your own heart to find me. I love you so much, dear great-grandchild of mine.

With all my love, (W.A.M.L.)

Rose

Harry quickly folded up the letter, returned it to its envelope, and stuffed it in his back pocket, then he sat down on the bed. His head hung. As he thought, he stared at his shoes. The sinking feeling returned. He thought of how much he missed his great-grandmother. Then his thoughts turned to Ginny. He needed her now more than ever. He wished Ginny could be here to comfort him over the loss of his great-grandmother. He wondered if losing all the important women in his life was a mere coincidence or was it meant to be that he never knew the love of a woman for any length of time.

Eventually Harry stood up from the bed. He dragged his trunk out of the room and joined the others.

Everyone gathered in the Gryffindor common room. Mr. Filch and some elves began bringing the trunks down to where they would be picked up for delivery to the train station. Harry felt a terrible ache in his stomach as he looked around the common room. He realized that he might never see many of these people again. It did not help to know that the time for the funeral was drawing near. This year was going to end with a haunting familiarity to last year. The only difference that Harry could see was, this time, he was not going to pay his respects to a beloved professor and mentor, but to a great-grandmother and to a girl that would have literally laid her life down for him, if she had had to.

The time had come for everyone to gather in the Great Hall. Harry, Sirius, Remus and Tonks met up with the Weasleys. The Great Hall was filled with fold-up chairs for all the students, parents, and friends of those who had lost their lives during the Great War. Mourners also attended from the Ministry of Magic. Many members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement attended as well, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, Savage, Dawlish, and Proudfoot.

Not all of the members of the Ministry were able to attend. Some were at the Wizengamot, attending the trial of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy for Ginny's murder. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley chose to attend their daughter's funeral. Just knowing that justice was somewhere being served was enough for them. They did not feel it necessary to attend the trial of the two Death Eaters. Both Professor Snape and Draco were found guilty of murder later that afternoon and sentenced to life imprisonment.

The Weasleys and Harry sat close to the front, where those who had lost loved ones were directed to sit. Harry sat between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Ron sat on the other side of Hermione. Sirius, Remus, and Tonks sat with the Aurors in the next row.

Harry stared at the numerous caskets lined up in front where the professors normally sat. Pictures of the victims were placed on their designated caskets, which were draped by the flag of the house from which they hailed. Harry looked at the pictures of his great-grandmother and Ginny. He suddenly felt a wave of intense grief come over him. He felt as if he was going to burst into uncontrollable tears. Hermione sensed his anxiety and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Just beyond the caskets was a podium from which Professor McGonagall stood. Her face held the expression of one drained by recent events. She was dressed in black. Her face looked drawn and withered. She cleared her voice in a gesture to get everyone's attention as she prepared to read her sermon. Knowing that Draco and Severus' trial would re-open many wounds of those present, Professor McGonagall geared her sermon to address the impending implications of Ginny's death during the Great War. She feared that, with everything that had happened, it would not be a mountain troll, basilisk, Dementor, escaped murderer, or evil wizard that would close the doors of Hogwarts forever, but the unceasing feuds that might erupt amongst the four houses over the students that lost their lives. Professor McGonagall rose from her seat, approached the podium, and began her speech.

"Family and friends, we are gathered here today to pay our respects to these brave students and staff members of Hogwarts, who unselfishly gave their lives so that we, the living, may live in peace, free of the reign of intolerance that threatened our very existence. To talk so generally about each of the students and professors, who lie before us, would take hours, maybe even days, to justly express their contributions and attributes that made them so special.

"Some of you who sit here may find it objectionable that I pay proper homage to the likes of Victor Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, but as a headmistress of a school, it is not only my desire, it is my obligation to treat each and every student equally. Professor Albus Dumbledore would have done the same, if he were here today.

"In order to illustrate to all of you here, my concerns for the future of Hogwarts, while preserving time, I will focus on one student. I wish to address all of you at this time, because I fear that the war we fought three days ago, and the death of this student, in particular, might hinder any chances of healing for this staff and student body.

"Ginny Weasley's death was terrible, not because she was young and had her whole life ahead of her, or because she was engaged to be married. Her death was terrible, because Ginny was beautiful. She was beautiful in spirit. She was vivacious and humorous. She understood what unconditional love was at a very young age. She had moxie, perseverance and determination. She was a loyal friend and a loving daughter and sister.

"The senseless death of such a beautiful, young person makes you ask why. Why Ginny? Why any of these students? Why take away someone who represents so much life and hope? I asked myself this question, but could not find an answer. I searched deep into my soul, but the only conclusion I could come to, offered no closure.

"She died along with the others because of what all of us failed to do. We failed to accept one another. We failed to learn how to tolerate each other's differences, our creeds, our races and our blood status. Her death, as well as all the others, was senseless, because it could have easily been prevented if all of us had just pledged to learn to co-exist in peace.

"Unfortunately, as humans, it is our tendency to cut down those who stand out among the crowd, who seem to shine just a little brighter, or catch onto things just a little more quickly. We want so much to cut them down, because we feel that, some how, they may be a threat to us. But to cut them down makes as much sense as cutting down a field of wild flowers, simply because some fear that their petals may cast shadows on the blades of grass.

"Rose Malfoy Albright, one of my dear friends, fought in the Great War. She insisted on taking charge of the battle over the Death Eaters, because she did not want the houses of Hogwarts to be split forever. She felt that, because she was a Slytherin fighting another Slytherin, she would be setting an example of how there is good and evil in everything -- in every group, every house and every family name. And she did just that! She showed the Wizarding world how it was not your gifts or talents that determined your character, but how you chose to use them. It was not the events in your life that determined your destiny, but how you chose to deal with the events in your life that determined it.

"My friend, Rose, went on to say how studying history made no sense, because we seemed to manage to repeat it. We wage battles for reasons fueled by bigotry, hatred, jealousy, and intolerance, but we do not fight the battles ourselves. Instead, we send the one thing that would offer us eternal hope and maybe a little immortality. We send our children. And when I consider the loss that this student body has suffered, I see she was right.

"We don't seem to do enough to protect our children from the mistakes of the past. And because of our failure to do so, beautiful young souls like Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and even Cedric Diggory die senselessly.

"It is my greatest hope that this year marks the year at Hogwarts when the students of each of the four houses learn to embrace tolerance. It is my greatest hope that this dream shall never die. For if it does then I know my heart has died too...But I continue to believe because of what my friend, Rose, once said. She said, "Love is magic. All you have to do is believe."

After Professor McGonagall's speech, other students and faculty were invited to say a few words about the departed. Then came the moment Harry was dreading the most. It was time to bury the dead. The thought of burying Ginny was a thought that Harry could not bring himself to terms with.

The mourners were led out of the Great Hall by the precession of caskets. Each group of mourners was directed to walk behind the casket of the one they lost. To make things less confusing, Ginny and Professor Albright's caskets were placed side by side. The Weasley and Potter party walked solemnly behind the two caskets.

The dead were prepared for burial, in a field on Hogwarts grounds, reserved for distinguished, departed members of the school. It was only fitting that these students and staff be given the same honors for their sacrifices. The precession of the caskets stopped at their designated final resting places. The mourners gathered in their groups, as Professor McGonagall presided over the service.

In the Weasley and Potter group, Hagrid stood behind Harry. In front, by Ginny and Professor Albright's coffins, were Sirius, Harry, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione. The remaining Weasleys, Remus, Tonks, Neville Longbottom, Lavender Browne, Luna Lovegood, Fleur, and Angelina stood behind the front row. Ginny and Professor Albright would be buried next to one another at Harry's and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's request.

On Ginny's coffin was the flag with Gryffindor's crest, and on Professor Albright's coffin was draped the flag of Slytherin. The juxtaposition was striking.

Several Aurors attended the burial as well, including Kingsley, Proudfoot, Savage, and two other unknown Aurors. The two unfamiliar Aurors walked to either end of Ginny's coffin and proceeded to fold the Gryffindor flag. They continued to fold it until it formed a tight triangle. One of the Aurors presented it to Mrs. Weasley. Then the two Aurors went over to Professor Albright's coffin and did the same, presenting Harry with the folded flag of Slytherin.

Then came the most harrowing moment when Ginny's and Professor Albright's coffins were to be lowered into their respective graves. Just before this final step Mr. Weasley spoke up and asked that Ginny's coffin be opened once more. Everyone watched in awe as one of the Aurors granted Mr. Weasley's request. Mr. Weasley carefully placed Ginny's favorite teddy bear that he brought with him to the funeral in one of Ginny's folded arms, then the Auror closed the lid of the coffin for the last time.

Both Ginny's and Professor Albright's coffins were slowly lowered into the deeply dug ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As their coffins descended, the timing of the harrowing event seemed to parallel to the moment that Draco and Professor Snape began their journey into the walls of Azkaban.

Only Draco's mother and Pansy were there to say their goodbyes, as they watched Draco helplessly walk into the entrance. Guards, dressed in dark brown robes and wearing hoods over their heads, stood on either side of the long, dark path into the part of the prison that led to the holding cells.

For the first time, Draco realized the immense doom he was about to face. He began to feel his heart beat irregularly, as he continued to approach closer to the bottomless darkness of Azkaban.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By this time, both Ginny and Professor Albright rested on the bottom of the cold ground. The gravediggers began to shovel small piles of dirt on top of their coffins. Harry and the others had already begun the sad return back to the castle. Mrs. Weasley and Harry walked arm-in-arm with one another. Mr. Weasley walked a little ahead, appearing as if he no longer knew where he was or comprehended the pain in his own heart.

Draco and Professor Snape walked the last few steps into the cold, heartless, darkness of the prison. Behind them the guards fell behind, one-by-one, closing off any view of Draco that his mother or Pansy had. As the last guard followed behind the prison procession, an enormous, metal, lattice gate was lowered down by large, heavy, metal chains and closed off the entrance. Narcissa and Pansy clung tightly to one another for support as they grieved over Draco's fate.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once Harry, Mrs. Weasley and the others arrived at the castle, Harry's thoughts turned to his memories. He remembered what Sirius had told him. He remembered that it would be these memories that would provide him the strength and courage to go on. For now, though, this thought offered little comfort. Harry's heart was so thoroughly broken; he found it hard to believe that any length of time could perform such magic to heal it.

Harry dreaded the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place. The light that Ginny brought to it was snuffed out forever. Though Sirius and Remus would be there to help him the next few days, he knew, eventually, they would leave. He and Dobby would be left in the healing hands of time. Kreacher would not be affected one way or the other.

Harry thought of all the things he would no longer share or experience with Ginny. He thought about how much he'd miss getting lost in her brown eyes or stroking her beautiful, red hair that matched the colors of the sunset. He missed the soft, warm touch of her hand on his cheek just before her lips would meet his. He would miss her smile, her giggles, her stubbornness, and her affection. He would miss how she would throw her arms lovingly around his neck just before tickling him with kisses under his chin.

He would miss the chance to be intimate with her. In the simplest terms, he would miss the unconditional love she had for him. He was certain Ginny was his last hope of ever having anyone special to love him so much. His heart began to harden, but only for a moment.

Dumbledore was right, he thought. There are much more terrible things than physical injury. No greater pain, than the pain caused by the loss of a loved one, could possibly exist. His heart softened again, simply because, deep inside, Harry knew that the last thing he wanted to do was become as hateful as his enemies. Somehow he knew he needed to rise above and allow himself to feel pain, so that he could eventually feel love again.

As Professor Dumbledore and his great-grandmother pointed out, it was his ability to love and choose the good way to use his gifts, in spite of his loveless childhood that separated him from Voldemort, and discredited any similarities between the two of them. This fact alone made all the difference.

After the graveside ceremony came to an end, Professor McGonagall requested that Harry meet her in her chambers. She invited Sirius to come along. By the look on Professor McGonagall's face, Harry sensed that something was terribly wrong. All three entered the headmistress' chambers. Harry and Sirius sat down next to each other by Professor McGonagall's desk.

Professor McGonagall settled into her seat and took a deep breath. What she needed to tell Harry would not be easy.

"Harry, this letter came for you from the Ministry," Professor McGonagall said nervously as she handed the letter to Harry.

Harry opened the envelope and read the letter.

Dear Mr.Potter,

We regret to inform you that, due to your recent loss of magical powers, your invitation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Auror Apprenticeship has been revoked. This condition is not uncommon and with proper treatment can be corrected over time. Once you have regained your magical powers you can resubmit your application to the program. We look forward to your resubmission. Until such time, we wish you the best of luck in whatever it is you choose to do.

Sincerely,

Gawain Robards

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Harry hung his head. He handed the letter to Sirius. Sirius read the letter.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Sirius calmly consoled.

"Yeah, me too. Perfect end to a perfect day." Harry choked back the urge to cry.

"Harry, I believe the letter mentions that your condition is only temporary. Probably related to You-Know-Who's destruction. You can always apply next year," Professor McGonagall was quick to point out.

"Yes, but until then what do I do?" Harry asked with a defeated tone.

Professor McGonagall took this question as an opportunity to offer up the proposal she'd prepared to give Harry after he read the letter. She hoped this offer would raise Harry's spirits.

"Harry, you were quite a skilled teacher, when you were conducting your D.A. meetings. Ron and Hermione used to tell me on numerous occasions what a wonderful teacher you were."

"So, what's your point?" quipped a disheartened Harry.

"Harry, as you are well aware, Hogwarts has had quite a time keeping a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. We believed it had something to do with a curse You-Know-Who placed on the position. However, now that he is no longer a concern, we believe we may be able to keep one around for awhile," she explained. "That's if you're willing to accept the position."

Harry's mouth dropped open. He remembered his adventure in Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve, when Voldemort tried to attain the same position. He was disappointed about losing his dream of becoming an Auror, but, in some ways, he felt like he was getting even on Voldemort twice. Harry smiled at Professor McGonagall.

"Okay, I accept," Harry replied, surrendering to his destiny.

Professor McGonagall smiled and opened a manila folder conveniently lying on her desk. She presented some papers and a quill to Harry. Harry signed his name to accept the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professor McGonagall extended her hand to Harry. He shook it. "Welcome back, Potter," Professor McGonagall smirked, handing him a regulation-assigned wand, like the one she gave to Professor Albright, almost a year ago.

Harry accepted it. Sirius smiled and patted Harry on the back for encouragement. Harry smiled half-heartedly. All three rose from where they were sitting. Sirius shook Professor McGonagall's hand.

"Minerva, thank you again," Sirius said with deep sincerity in his voice. He was grateful for her assistance with his godson's situation.

Both Sirius and Harry left Professor McGonagall's office. They prepared to return to Grimmauld Place. Remus and Tonks would be joining them. It was a comfort to Harry to know that he would not spend all of the summer by himself. Though he had Dobby and Kreacher to entertain him, the human companionship was greatly welcomed. He felt a sense of being left out. Ron and Hermione would have each other. They would be starting their apprenticeships this summer. They would be starting their lives.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The summer passed quickly, however, and before Harry knew it, he was journeying back to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Harry brought Dobby and Kreacher with him. They would be doing their usual kitchen duty for the school year.

Sirius and Remus accompanied Harry, Dobby, and Kreacher to the train station. Along with them, Ron, Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Lavender, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Percy, Luna, Bill, Fleur and their newborn son, Arthur Phillipe, came to the station to see Harry off to Hogwarts.

Nervously, Mrs. Weasley tried in vain to straighten Harry's hair. Mr. Weasley put his hand on Harry's shoulder. He offered Harry words of comfort that only a father could provide.

"You know, wherever you are, whatever you do, you have a home at the Burrow."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied.

The time was drawing nearer for Harry to board the train. He hugged everyone goodbye, exept for Ron and Hermione. He walked over to share a special moment with them. Tears began to fill his eyes and a lump filled his throat. Ron looked away for a moment. He, too, began to get emotional. Hermione did not care and allowed her tears to roll freely down her cheeks.

"You're the two best friends a guy could ever have," Harry murmured.

Hermione threw her arms around Harry's neck. Ron gave Harry a friendly punch in the arm. For a moment the two young men looked at one another. Ron could not remain cool any longer. He embraced Harry as well. Ron and Hermione released their embrace, then Harry turned around, grabbed Dobby and Kreacher by their hands, and boarded the train.

Harry, Dobby, and Kreacher found a carriage two doors down. All three settled down in a seat. Harry sat by the window with his head leaning against it. He stared out and watched the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, Lavender, Luna, Fleur, Sirius and Remus - his entire family -- as they waved goodbye.

While the train began to pull away, Harry saw the form of a beautiful, young redheaded woman, running along side it. Harry sat up straight, his face pressed firmly against the train window. As he continued to watch the woman, her facial features became recognizable. It was Ginny! She was waving and blowing kisses to Harry. As the train picked up speed, the distance between Harry and Ginny's ghostly figure grew greater, until Ginny's form faded away.

Harry realized then, that his terrible and wonderful past was behind him. He was beginning a new life, a different one than the one he had originally planned. It would not be his first choice, as he soon learned was not uncommon for many in both the Muggle as well as Wizarding world. Perhaps this life would finally offer him peace.

With Ginny, his great-grandmother, and his dream of becoming an Auror gone, and Ron and Hermione starting their own lives together, the only thing that remained of his past rested on his forehead in the form of a lightning bolt-shaped scar.

The End

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince J.K. Rowling pg. 559