And In Your Loving Memory

Once, silence would have unnerved her. Now, she wished for nothing more than for the entire school to just shut up.

The sorting had just finished, and Hermione was staring glumly at her plate. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the scar that raced a path on her collarbone; it still twinged from time to time.

Harry pushed his food across his plate; Ron didn't even try to create a semblance of an appetite. Neville and Ginny sat hip to hip, staring at some unknown speck in the distance. Hermione raised her head, and locked eyes with Luna. The same thought was in their heads.

They just don't understand.

Some part of her wanted to burn the entire Great Hall to the ground. How could they sit and idly chat as the world around them came crashing down? People were dying, people were hurting. Loved ones were being lost. Yet because it didn't affect them, people simply did not care.

What did it matter that Harry had lost his Godfather, that Remus had lost his last friend? What concern was it that Broderick Bode had been killed, so painfully, and left behind a grieving widow and their two small children? Who remembered the Prewetts? The Bones'? The Longbottoms were locked in a world of insanity! Caradoc Dearheart's family still waited for his body to surface. People were suffering.

A few other long faces decorated the Hall. Susan Bones was blank-faced, blatantly ignoring the prattle of Hannah Abbott. Dean, strangely enough, seemed morose, as if he had been forced a bitter pill. But for the most part, life went on. People willfully ignored the ripples of each life lost, each precious memory torn away forever. The Great Hall was loud and boisterous, but the silence of the memories was more than she could bear.

Hermione stood up abruptly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She winced when a hand gripped her arm.

"Where are you going?" croaked out Harry, the first words he had said since he had embraced Ron and Hermione and told them that he missed them.

"I... I can't stand the noise, and the silence," she whispered back. Harry nodded and dropped his hand. On impulse, Hermione swooped down and kissed his forehead, leaning over to do the same to Ron. Both boys smiled gratefully. She squeezed Neville and Ginny's arms and proceeded to rush out of the Great Hall.

Soft, even footsteps behind her alerted Hermione to Luna's presence.

"I know," said Luna simply, and Hermione knew she did. She slid down onto the floor, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"How can they forget?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"Did they even remember?" came a bitter voice from above her. Dean sat down next to her, his face more angry than before.

"I found my father," he said abruptly.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"My real father," explained Dean. "He was a Wizard. Pure-blooded. Left me mum and myself when I was still an infant. He left to protect us." Dean laughed bitterly. "And then he went and got himself blown up by Death Eaters. Sixteen years to this day."

Hermione patted his arm and pulled him into an awkward hug. Dean shook, but did not cry.

"It makes me so mad," he said slowly. "It's like he died in vain, you know? They don't care at all. They just laugh and smile, as if tomorrow is going to be as sunny as today."

"Bloody fools," growled another voice. Susan sat at Dean's feet, fists gripped in undeniable rage. "I just want to hex them into next week, sometimes."

"How often those who gave their blood for ours," mused Luna, "are left to wither away in the shadows of time. It's not right."

"No, it's not," said Hermione. She grimaced as her scar began to throb slightly. "And we need to make them remember."

"How?" asked Dean brusquely. "Not to be mean, Hermione, but we can't exactly smash their faces in the truth. No matter how satisfying it might be to try."

"We'll find a way," said Luna evenly. "Don't we always?"

"What do you have in mind?" asked Susan. A small hope flickered in her eyes.

Luna turned and placed her hands upon the rough stones of Hogwarts. "We need your help."

++++++++

Harry sat at breakfast. Ron and Ginny flanked him, with Neville again sitting next to Ginny. Hermione was no where in sight. Harry didn't altogether blame her; he didn't particularly want to be here either. But McGonagall came swooping in earlier that day, forcing him out of bed. Ron, Neville, and Ginny had gone down with him for support. He wished desperately that Hermione and Luna was with them as well. More than ever, the group needed Luna's pacifying demeanor and Hermione's strength.

He felt as if he were slowly falling apart, a hair at a time. He had gotten no sleep before; he had sat up with Ron and Neville, Ginny nestled at their feet. Hermione was off, probably drowning her sorrows in another thick book. Harry didn't blame her at all; on the contrary, he hoped that she, at least, was able to find solace somewhere.

Ron patted his back bracingly before returning to his plate of uneaten food. He stabbed the bacon with his fork repeatedly, as if he could somehow mangle his pain the same way his food fell apart.

The room was filled with noise, but it seemed too silent to Harry. He could hear no laughter, nor feel any joy. He felt drained. He couldn't even muster anger, or even irritation, only apathy at Draco's open sneers.

He started when a weight suddenly dropped on his shoulder. Hedwig dropped a note into his lap, rubbed her head against Harry's, and flew out a window. Harry recognised Hermione's flowing script on the note. He opened it.

Meet me outside the Great Doors. Bring Ginny, Neville, and Ron. We have something for you.
-Hermione, Luna, Dean, Susan

Harry wasted no time. Not even bothering to grab his bag, he motioned for the others to follow him and raced out the doors, unheeding to Dumbledore's cries and the surprised murmurs of his fellow students.

Harry skidded to a halt, causing the others to run into him. He had never seen anything like this before.

It was a large, smooth stone, shot through with gold and silver lines. It seemed to grow from the ground, a few hundred metres from the staircase leading to the doors. Harry could feel the magic emanating from it. But that was not what took his breath away. The words engraved on it did.

Many before our time hath willingly shed their blood for life and land. Much has been given, and taken, in the pursuit of freedom, and justice, but most importantly, love. People have dedicated their minds and souls for a cause, and taken up the torch when others fell or could not carry on themselves. And in your Loving Memory, we dedicate this, so that no one else will be forgotten. We remember, and honour. And we will break the silence.

Harry stood dumbfounded. His nose began to burn when he read the first two names.

Lily Evans Potter
James Potter

Ron and Ginny's heart seized as their eyes went down the list.

Gideon Prewett
Fabian Prewett

Dean was crying openly, his hand firm against one name in particular.

Patrick Dean Thomas

Susan traced names a little lower than Dean's father.

Edgar Bones
Mathilda Bones
Terra Bones

Luna led Harry forward to touch a name near the middle.

Sirius Black

"But Hermione," said Harry lowly. "No one knows that Sirius didn't-"

"We won't let him be forgotten, Harry," she said quietly. "I carved that name myself."

Hermione and Luna opened their arms, and the remaining students rushed into them, sobbing softly into their shoulder. The entire staff and student body ran into the courtyard. They stood, slack-jawed, at the imposing tower of stone. Every single name carved in their glowed slightly, a reminder of the past. And a direction for the future.

"Miss Granger, what on Earth-" began Dumbledore. Susan turned to face him, ash faced and red eyed.

"No more," she choked out. "No more silence."

And they screamed.

The earth began to shake beneath their feet as the small group of students wailed. Within their screams, an infant shrieked for his mother, lying dead by his crib. A young girl shouted for her mother, lying motionless at her feet. A small boy and girl wailed, moaning uncles they would never know. A young man screamed in anger for the father he never had the chance to meet. A child-woman sobbed for an uncle, an aunt, a cousin, ripped away before their time. A man bellowed for his parents, bellowed in righteous indignation and sorrow. They screamed for every single soul imprinted on that rock.

A monstrous roar answered their cries. Hogwarts was mourning its lost children, lives taken away before their time. It wept endlessly, shaking its very foundations as it tried to find the ones it had lost over the years.

And then it was over.

"No more silence," whispered Harry. The small group of students fled into the school. Everyone else stared at the imposing figure left before them. Below the names was a last, small incription.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

And they would never forget.

Fin.