Je Suis En Vie

Je Suis En Vie

By Harry and Ginny 4eva

"Always remember that the future comes one day at a time."
~ Dean Acheson

Chapter III - Funérailles

Soft wind blew through Harry's hair as he looked at his surroundings. The green, fresh meadow was almost shining with the warm May sun. The wind shifted it ever so gently and Harry could see tiny purple flowers peeking out of the grass.

He was standing right beneath a large oak tree, occasionally glancing at the big hole in the ground next to him. It seemed so out of place in such a beautiful environment that Harry grimaced at the irony.

Fred's funeral was held in the open grounds of Ottery St. Catchpole, a twenty minutes' walk from the Burrow. Not too close, but never too far from home. Charlie remembered the place from times he used to run away from home when he was younger and wanted some peace and quiet.

So there they stood around the big grave, watching Fred's casket slowly being levitated down by George. He had tears steadily streaming down his face, a sob escaping every now and then, looking empty and shocked, as if he could not understand the full meaning of what he was doing.

Mrs. Weasley was trying to break away from her husband's strong embrace, attempting to touch the coffin one last time before she never saw it again. She was weeping, groaning against Mr. Weasley, who was crying himself, trying to hold his wife upright.

"Fred!" bawled Mrs. Weasley. "Let me go! Let me get my baby!" she struggled against Mr. Weasley. "FRED!"

Bill and Charlie both sat on their knees on the edge of the grave, looking down at the gleaming wooden casket. They, too, cried and looked as if their mother's yelling was making it all too hard on them to bear. Fleur stood right behind her husband, silent tears streaming down her face.

Percy was standing next to the grave, with his arms around himself, trying to stop the tears from flooding his cheeks. He looked over at Ron, who had his arm around Hermione, his face touching her temple, silently crying.

Harry looked down at the redhead who was clutching his abdomen as if holding to her lifeline. He felt hollow, finding it incredibly hard to look at any of the Weasleys and even more difficult to hear Mrs. Weasley crying out for Fred to come back. He struggled to breathe in. Maybe because of Ginny, maybe because of the situation, but he felt as if he could not escape the gaping, black hole in his heart.

It was too overwhelming. Too harsh. He couldn't say anything that would make them feel better. A wave of his wand would not cheer them up. Harry remembered that feeling, that giant hole in his heart that tore open the minute Sirius fell through the veil.

He felt that hole open up again as he looked down at the grave that was now slowly filling up with the soil levitated by George, Bill and Charlie. In a second, they wouldn't be able to see the casket ever again. Fred would really be gone, and nothing could bring him back.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny cried harder. Even Hermione no longer seemed stable under Ron's weight and her sobs.

The casket disappeared. Harry heard some heavy sniffs from behind him and turned to look at the people who came to give the family their condolences. Aunt Muriel was there, blowing into her handkerchief and patting Bill's back with her chubby hand. Luna, Neville, Seamus and Dean were all there too, looking gravely at the slowly growing mound of soil.

Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and at least twenty other students from Hogwarts were there, all bowing their heads in respect of the notorious prankster. Angelina Johnson, who had been dating Fred up until his death, looked like she hadn't slept in a while - her eyes were red and puffy and she had dark circles around them.

But Harry's eyes drew to someone else. As he stared at the figure, his mind reeled with sadness and sympathy. Andromeda Tonks stood a little distanced from the crowd. She held a bundle of clothing on her arms, which Harry presumed held baby Teddy, sleeping soundly, unaware that his parents were dead.

Harry turned to the girl in his arms. Her hair glowed in the slowly setting sun as people shook her hand, now offering their condolences.

And then, it was over.

The walk back to the Burrow was poignant. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were leading the group, holding each other in silence. George walked behind them with his hands shoved deep inside his robes. Percy, Bill, Fleur, and Charlie marched after him, whispering to each other silently, yet vigorously. And at the end of the group, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione supported each other quietly.

Harry and Hermione occasionally looked at each other, not knowing what to do or what to say to their grieving friends. Harry stroked Ginny's back so often he started feeling a slight tingling in the tip of his fingers. He never stopped, though.

They arrived at the Burrow, still engulfed in a shocked sort of silence, as if they don't really know what just happened.

George, Ron and Ginny immediately went up to their rooms. Harry felt it was time to let them have some time on their own to grieve. He remembered after Sirius's death, all he really wanted to do is be alone with his thoughts and numbness.

Mr. Weasley, Bill, Percy, and Charlie all sat down heavily at the dining room table, looking grave and tired.

"I'll make some tea," croaked Mrs. Weasley.

"No!" cried Harry, Hermione and Fleur in unison, making Mr. Weasley jump a little.

"Non!" repeated Fleur. "You will do no zuch zing! Zeet down and relax, I'll make ze tea."

Molly smiled weakly and sat on a chair, not bothering to argue with her. "Thanks, dear," She said gratefully.

"Zat eez no problem at all," smiled Fleur.

Harry and Hermione followed Fleur to the kitchen, desperate for the opportunity to talk and leave the family alone for a little while. As soon as they closed the kitchen's door behind them, Hermione burst into tears.

"Oh Harry! It's so awful to watch them hurt so much!" she whispered painfully. "What are we supposed to do? How do we act?" she panicked.

Harry frowned. He did not know himself how to react. Should he tell them it'd never go away? That the pain would always be there? Or should he reassure them that it would be alright someday, that even he forgot Sirius every now and then...

Harry opened his mouth to answer her, but Fleur beat him. "Give zem support, let zem get zeir tearz out," she said. "And don't pressure zem."

Hermione turned to look at her tearfully. "But...What do I say? How can I help him?"

"Don't say anything," said Harry, not exactly aware of the words coming out of his mouth. "Just be there, and let him do the talking."

Indeed, in the next couple of hours Harry found it was better to let the others do the talking and reminisce; it felt like the air was getting lighter with every memory of Fred. Maybe it was because Fred did so many humorous things, or maybe because they just let it out of their chests, but Harry sensed that the Weasleys were feeling a little better.

Fred wouldn't have wanted them to be sad, he thought.

Before any of them noticed, it was already very late into the night, and the Weasleys slowly scattered to their respective bedrooms, leaving Harry and Hermione staring tiredly at the kitchen table.

"Hermione," started Harry.

"Don't," retorted Hermione before Harry could utter another word. "I know what you're going to say...that it'll be alright, that everything will work out at the end...but you know what? It's not. Fred's dead and-"

"Hermione," cut in Harry. "That's not what I meant to say at all," he scowled.

"Oh," said Hermione, her face relaxing. "Oh."

"I meant to say thank you for handling the press the other day...I don't know if I want to talk to any of them right now."

"Oh," repeated Hermione, her face turning slightly pink. "I-Well, that's fine. I wouldn't let you deal with them even if you asked for it, not yet anyway."

Harry smiled a little. "Thanks, I guess," he said.

"Sleep?" she asked, noticing him stifling a yawn.

"Yes please," muttered Harry.

The day after the funeral was gloomy and cloudy even though it was the middle of May and seemed to reflect the mood inside the Burrow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked drawn and tired, and the rest of the Weasley children stayed in their rooms for most of the day, coming out only for bathroom breaks and meals.

Fleur, Harry, and Hermione did everything they could to help Mrs. Weasley keep the household running, all the while letting her rest and catch some sleep. Hermione was concerned about George, who had hardly spoken and barely eaten since the funeral, but Fleur silently reassured her that he'd come around soon.

Harry was sitting quite alone in the kitchen, three days after the funeral, chewing on a piece of toast he made himself. The past two days had been filled with funerals and sadness within the Weasley household. Tonks and Remus were buried next to each other in the Hogwarts grounds, just behind the Whomping Willow. Harry thought it was only fitting for Remus to be buried where he had the most wonderful and painful experiences of his life, and for Tonks to be buried next to the forest, a tribute to her wild and unexpected nature.

"Morning," came a voice behind him. Harry turned, choking on a bit of toast, immediately recognizing Ginny's voice.

"Morning," he mumbled, returning to his toast. "How did you sleep?"

"I've slept better," she said tiredly, sitting heavily on one of the chairs and rubbing her eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all?" she asked, noting the bags under his eyes and the robes from yesterday.

"Only a little, I had a lot to think about," he said, thinking about his night of tossing and turning endlessly in his bed. Ginny poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped.

"Wanna share?" she said, blowing on the steamy cup.

Harry looked at her, measuring her, taking in her dishevelled look and her slightly red eyes, probably from all the crying. Returning his gaze to the toast in his hands, he frowned.

"I can't believe it's really over," he said, still frowning. "It doesn't feel like it...it feels like the situation just got worse."

"He's really gone, Harry," said Ginny.

"I know he is," he mumbled. "But no one is feeling happy, I'm not feeling happy, I feel lousy...I never meant for Neville to call you all, if he hadn't called you -"

"Bellatrix would still be alive, so would a dozen other Death Eaters! The students and teachers of Hogwarts alone weren't capable of winning that battle, Harry! There were just too many of them, and too few of us."

Harry looked at Ginny with a new appreciation. It was not as if he hadn't known all that already, but still he felt partially guilty for Fred's death.

As if reading his mind, she put her hand on his. "It's not your fault he died, Harry," Ginny said, tears in her eyes. "You didn't kill him, Rookwood fired that spell," her voice broke and Harry found himself turning his hand so her hand was now resting in hers. "Rookwood did it," she repeated. "And he'll pay, even if it'll costs me my life, he'll pay for it."

Harry sat in silence, letting her calm down, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand while she took several calming breaths and continued drinking her coffee.

"We'll be alright," he said, not aware of the actual words coming out of his mouth. "We'll be alright..."

"Hermione's going after her parents today," said Ginny after a few seconds of silence.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, slightly shocked that nobody had told him about it. "She never mentioned it."

"She didn't tell anyone but me and Ron...she never meant to tell me, either, except I accidently heard them talking about it yesterday."

"Accidently, huh?" asked Harry with a slightly amused tone, knowing his girlfriend rarely stumbled upon something accidently.

"Are you questioning my integrity, Mr. Potter?" she asked quirked eyebrow, a ghost of a smile hovering on the edges of her lips.

"Not at all, Miss Weasley," he said vaguely, waving his hand absentmindedly. "Not at all."

The banter seemed to last for only a few seconds until they returned to silence, this time less heavy and a bit happier.

"So...when is she going?" asked Harry in a desperate attempt to perk the conversation up again. "Aren't her parents in Australia?"

"They are, as far as I know," said Ginny, wrinkling her brow and taking another sip from her coffee. "She planned to leave right after breakfast with Ron, I think."

As Harry pondered about this new information, Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs, sighing. She looked up at Harry and Ginny and smiled weakly.

"Morning dears, why are you awake so early?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Couldn't sleep," said Ginny, shrugging. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, you must be hungry, let me ma-"

"No!" cut Harry. "I'll make breakfast; just sit down, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes. "Harry Potter, I am not a cripple, I am perfectly capable of making breakfast, so you sit down and gulp down your coffee."

"But -"

"No buts, Harry, and that's final," said Mrs. Weasley with an air of self-defiance.

Harry, feeling much like a boy being told off by his mother, sat down in semi-shock, much to Ginny's amusement and raised eyebrow.

"Merlin knows I need to do something with myself," she muttered so quietly Harry had to lean in to hear her. Wisely, he chose not to comment, fearing for his eardrums and some other body parts he cherished.

"Do I smell bacon?"

Ron trudged down the stairs and entered the kitchen with the gracefulness of a Hippogriff. He gave Harry and Ginny a shrug of hello and wolfed down the plate of bacon and eggs served by his mother.

"Got anything planned for today?" asked Harry innocently, trying to conceal his disappointment while Ginny gave him a disapproving glance.

Ron turned a little pink. "Yeah, I'm going out with Hermione."

"On a date?" pressed Harry, determined not to let him get away without telling him.

"No," blushed Ron. "Hermione just wanted...she thought it's time to..."

"I reckoned it was time to bring my parents back from Australia."

Hermione, who obviously had been listening at the door, spoke up. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Harry, but I thought you could use the rest."

"That's fine..." said Harry, a bit reluctantly, not sure whether he was angry or not. "When are you leaving?"

"I thought we should go in an hour or so, but I'm starting to feel like it's a little too soon, I mean, there are still Death Eaters out there, aren't there? And what about my parents? I put then in a hotel, but what if they moved out? I don't know how to trace them or..."

"Hermione, relax," said Ginny, her eyebrow raised. "You'll be fine, just think about it for a day and you'll be able to do it in no time," she said.

Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. "You're right," she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

"Of course I'm right," said Ginny with a slight smirk. Ron snorted and took another egg, swallowing it in a second.

"And besides - I think we should go to Diagon Alley, I've been meaning to go to George and Fr- George's shop for ages," said Ginny, swallowing a little as she remembered it was only George's shop now.

"That's great," said Ron, chewing an egg. "Can we eat first?"

"You're already eating Ron," said Hermione and rolled her eyes.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but at this exact moment, four large owls flew through the window and landed heavily on the table, knocking the plates upside-down.

"What the-?" gasped Ginny, gazing wide-eyed at the owls.

Two owls stood in front of Harry, offering him their legs, each attached to a letter. Harry glanced at the others and noticed that Ron and Hermione each got a letter.

"Who are they from?" said Mrs. Weasley, glancing over Ron's shoulder to look at the letter. "What do they say?"

"It looks like letters from Hogwarts..." said Ron worriedly.

"It's way too early to send out letters!" exclaimed Harry. "It's three months away!"

"It's from Professor McGonagall," breathed Hermione excitedly, obviously not listening to the conversation. "She's offering all of last year seventh-years to finish our education! She said they're expecting a reply by July 30^th."

Ron groaned. "No way, I'm not coming back there again; I've had enough education for a lifetime! I want to be completely free this year!"

"But what about your education?!" asked Mrs. Weasley sharply. "You won't be able to get a job if you won't have your NEWTs, Ron! I hope you know that!"

Ron, who hadn't expected this kind of attack, blushed furiously. "I'm of age, Mum, you can't tell me what to do anymore!"

"I know that, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about some of your decisions! Like you going out on that dangerous quest last year! Do you have any idea how worried we were?! No letters, no information about you!" Mrs. Weasley was yelling now. "And then you coming back with bruises and scars all over you a few days ago! Don't tell me you're of age Ronald Weasley, because some of your decisions were completely and utterly irresponsible!"

There was silence for a few seconds while everyone looked at Molly and Ron silently, shocked at her outburst. Molly panted silently, glaring daggers at Ron, who had reached a new, shiny shade of red, and was still chewing furiously, determined not to respond to his mother.

"Harry," said Ginny, turning to Harry in attempt to break the tension. "What's in the other letter?"

Harry, quite mortified that the limelight was on him, opened the letter quickly. "It's from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he announced, making the rest of the kitchen residents turn their gaze to him. "They're summoning me for an investigation in two hours."

"What for?" spluttered Ginny. "It's not like you did anything wrong! Or would they have preferred Voldemort on the loose?" she said sarcastically, frowning at the letter.

"Of course they don't," said Hermione levelly. "They want to hear about what happened in Hogwarts."

"There were at least two hundred people there! Why Harry?" yelped Ron. "Why not me, or you, or even Ginny?"

"Even Ginny? What was I? A fly on the wall that observed the whole fight?" asked Ginny angrily.

"Because Harry was the one who killed him," said Hermione impatiently, trying to save Ron from another redhead tempered speech. "The best information is first-hand isn't it? So they want Harry to tell them how he killed him when he fired only a Disarming Charm."

Harry, not at all happy about this whole investigation, scowled and stood up. He'd better get ready if he wanted to be there on time.

"May I come with you?" blurted Ginny.

Harry contemplated Ginny. "Sure," he said, thinking he'd need someone there with him.

After all, no one deserved to know what really happened like Ginny.