Happiness Remembered

Harry was panting with sweat. All his adventures over the years, all the basilisks, dementors, dragons, Death Eaters did not come close to what he had just accomplished. Lord Voldemort, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, was finally vanquished. The bane of the wizarding world was gone. No more living under the fear or the constant feeling that lives were in danger. Harry had waited for this moment for seventeen years.

But what Harry felt at this moment was not what he had waited for. Tears, falling fast and furious, climbed down his face onto his blood-soaked robes. His left leg throbbing painfully, the effect of the many curses thrown his way tonight, Harry managed to crawl over to one of the many heaps of bodies laid around the Great Hall. On the way, he glimpsed Snape, now living the afterlife he deserved. Professor McGonagall lay stirring, barely conscious after the battle. Hagrid, buried in what used to be the doors to the Great Hall, was moaning out of pain, but still clinging to life.

The same could not be said for those found when Harry reached his destination. The faces of Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were full of courage and protest, the same they had been when Voldemort gave the orders.

"Wake up, guys. The battle's over," said Harry, knowing the response he would get before he had spoken. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!!!!!!"

Sobbing horribly, Harry tried to hold all three of them at the same time, a task he failed miserably. He gave out a cry so full of grief and anger, Harry thought his heart might explode. It is immeasurable the sadness one feels when they lose the people they love most. Harry wouldn't wish the feeling on anyone, even on those he had just destroyed.

"Harry..." a voice said in his ear. "You should get up."

"No."

"Harry...It would be best if you didn't see them"

"I don't care."

"Harry...please..." said another voice.

Harry raised his head and saw the badly scarred face of Remus Lupin. Lupin had sustained injuries too. There was a nasty cut on his arm and claw marks all over his body, probably from Greyback. Tonks, leaning on Lupin's shoulder, was just as badly hurt.

"I'm not leaving them, Remus."

"Harry, you are just hurting yourself right now."

"They made a promise to me, Remus. I'm doing the same."

"Harry...please..." pleaded Tonks.

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OUT! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Both Lupin and Tonks were neither surprised nor frightened by Harry's outburst. They, unfortunately, seemed to expect it and obeying Harry's wishes, they went to check on the others. Tonks softly placed a hand on his shoulder as she left. It gave Harry no comfort.

Harry closed his best friends' eyes and mouths to give them a peaceful look. Doing so didn't ease any of the pain. They had died because of him. Because he had survived at the age of one, here they had sacrificed their lives. He wished it would all go away. He wished he had died when he was one... he wished he had never been born...

On Ginny's neck, he saw the necklace he had given to her. She had worn it for barely nine months...

He noticed Ron and Hermione were together, holding hands, even in death.

He could feel so much love, yet death was all he could find. No more tears fell from his eyes. It seemed he had no more tears left. Or perhaps his sadness was beyond crying. Ginny looked so beautiful...

With this image, Harry knew what he had to do. To save his soul he had to. He would never feel peace until it was done. And then he passed out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I dunno what happened, Professor. The last thing I saw was the rubble fallin' down towars' me. I woke up after the battle."

"That is quite alright, Hagrid. You can just rest now."

It never ceased to amaze Harry the calming presence of Dumbledore's voice. Despite all he was feeling, Dumbledore brought back a little of the comfort he had once felt. His return from death had barely changed him at all. Dumbledore was wearing the gravest black robes, yet still magnificent with silver stars adorned all around them. His face bore a look of utmost weariness.

Harry was in the familiar sight of the hospital wing. For how long, he did not know.

"You've been here for three days, Harry," said Dumbledore, once again as though reading his thoughts.

Harry said nothing. He didn't have the slightest idea what he could say anymore.

"Harry, I will say what I want to say but if at any time it is your wish for me to stop, please say so, or demand or scream so, and I will stop," said Dumbledore. "I daresay I could even summon some instruments from my office for you to destroy."

Harry let the shallowest glimpse of a smile escape him.

"No, not the time for brief humor, I see," said Dumbledore wanly. "Harry I know you have been down this path all too often for common words of comfort and I am not here to give them to you. I know what you are thinking of doing. Do not let Ginny, Ron, and Hermione die in vain, Harry."

"Professor," said Harry fiercely, "don't even pretend to know what I am feeling. Don't even."

These words didn't seem to deter Dumbledore one bit, as Harry knew they wouldn't. He was not in the mood for words but he knew Dumbledore was not going to back down.

"Harry, as I have known your three friends for as long as you have, I know that they weren't the type to want you to feel the way you do. They would not want you to do what you are thinking of doing. They, like you, went on this mission for the sake of the wizarding world. They knew the risks and they went forward with you, heads held high. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione wanted to restore our lives back to normal. They wanted, most of all, for you to be happy. Think about it, Harry. You are free."

Harry remained stone-faced while Dumbledore talked. At the mention of their names, however, he broke. Happiness would be the last thing he ever would feel again.

Harry paused for a moment, trying to remember what it was like to be happy, and said, "I can't take it anymore, Professor. There is too much death. First my parents, then Cedric, then Sirius, you, Charlie, and now this? How can I be happy when we have lost so much?"

"Do you think Ginny stopped a dozen Death Eaters for the world to be cheerless? Did Hermione sacrifice her arm for a Horcrux for that? Ron defeated Lucius Malfoy to no avail, did he? You can't give up, Harry. It would be unfair to them."

Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his temples. He looked exhausted, the most Harry had ever seen him.

"I am old, Harry," said Dumbledore, in a voice that indicated quite the contrary. There was something about Dumbldore that could never be diminished. His spirit seemed stronger than ever. "I will not be around forever. Do you remember what I told you once about the Dark Arts?"

Memory flowed through Harry. The words had come to him just last year. It was important to keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated...

"You will need to be strong," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort will not be the last Dark Wizard of our time. Our world, Muggles included, will need you."

Harry considered this for a moment. At the moment, he could not fathom the idea of another Voldemort. Too much death, too much pain. It had to stop...

"Don't give up, Harry," said Dumbledore. He finished with that. The words echoed in Harry's mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Before he knew it, he was standing at the podium for the funeral. The past few days had passed by in a blur. Harry spent most of his time alone, looking at photos and reminiscing about the days when all he cared about was a Potions essay. He would be with Ron, struggling viciously while Hermione sat nearby, smirking and knitting hats. Seamus and Dean seemed to understand, and they slept in the common room during nights. Harry, if he did leave his poster, was with only Neville and Luna. He would never forget what they had done for him. He spoke rarely and instead watched the two interact, reminding him of other friends... friends that were gone.

His mood ranged from quiet to angry. He swore to Romilda Vane so loudly one day, she dropped the box of Chocolate Cauldrons and gillyweed water she was about to offer him. He hated being out in the halls. People often stared at him with a grateful or heartfelt look on their faces. He could not bear being admired or being felt sorry for. Refusing to enter the repaired Great Hall, Harry did not eat at all until one morning a worried Dobby brought him an entire trunk full of éclairs.

In the common room one day, McGonagall had asked him to speak at the funeral. Harry accepted with some difficulty and then ran up to his room, tears streaming as he went.

Almost all of Hogwarts attended. Three, open marble tombs lied next to the lake. It was the most beautiful summer's day. Harry felt nature was playing a cruel joke, since Dumbledore's funeral had been the same. It was ironic, that Dumbledore himself was attending a service nearly identical to the one for him a year earlier.

Harry looked around. He saw countless people, most of whom he didn't even know. Everyone he had ever seen at Hogwarts, past and present, was there. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna, Parvati, Padma, Lavender. McLaggen, Ernie MacMillan, Hannah Abbot, Katie Bell, Demelza Robins, Peakes, Coote. The Creevey brothers, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Michael Corner, Zacharias Smith, Susan Bones, Lee Jordan, Oliver Wood, Cho. Even Marietta Hedgecombe. The Weasleys were to his right, Percy included. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing into Mr. Weasley's shoulder. Hermione's parents were to the Weasleys' left, quiet tears rolling down their proud faces. Hagrid and Grawp were in the back, bawling into handkerchiefs the size of blankets. The entire faculty had their own row, each wearing the same robes Dumbledore had worn in the hospital wing. McGonagall, her uncharacteristic self, struggled and lost in keeping the tears back. The whole Order of the Phoenix was there as well. And in the farthest row back, alone, was Draco Malfoy, the only Slytherin Harry could see in attendance.

All these faces were looking up at him, solemnly expecting words he knew he didn't have. He stayed in silence for a long time, just staring back. Even then, no one made a move, not even a sound.

Harry turned around and looked at the faces of the three best friends he ever had. Doing so was nearly unbearable. They looked so peaceful, and at that moment, Harry would give anything to feel that peace. He would give anything to be with them for maybe a day, even an hour, only a minute, just a few seconds. A single tear fell down his cheek. Harry watched it fall to the ground. Ginny looked so beautiful...

Harry turned back to the crowd. He gave them a small smile, his first real one in many months.

The crowd gasped. Hagrid looked stunned and leaping from his seat, charged toward the front. Dumbledore, however, rose from his chair and put up his arm to stop Hagrid. A look of understanding had flashed between them when Harry raised his wand. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Dumbledore had nodded and gave him a sad smile back.

"Go to them, Harry," he said.

With one final look at his entire world for the last seventeen years, along with everyone he had ever loved save three, Harry aimed his wand right below his scar.