Harry Potter and the Heart of Regenesis

Chapter Twenty-three

Nocensformida

Harry woke with a start and not a little confusion. A wailing, high-pitched sound like a million screaming banshees filled his ears. At first he had thought it must be a fire alarm but shortly after that thought struggled across his sleep-addled mind he had managed to regain enough of his senses to realise Hogwarts Castle neither had - nor ever would have - need of a fire alarm.

Quickly, he became aware of a strange light in the room. In his haste to go to sleep after the party Harry had not drawn his curtains either at the windows or around the bed. It was warmer in the summer, even in Scotland, and the bed-drapes tended to add to the stuffiness - so he rarely bothered these days with the curtains, anyway. As he swung his body around, landed his feet on the Axminster and reached out for his glasses on the bedside cabinet he suddenly felt an awful lurch in his stomach, which threatened to make him bring up what was still not digested of the chocolate cake he'd eaten at the party. The sky was orange. He'd only woken in the middle of the night to an orange sky once before and that had been the night Hogsmeade was in flames.

He peered out of the window in the direction of the nearby village but what he saw there turned his blood cold. Yes, there were flames - although it was hard for him to tell if they were coming directly from Hogsmeade or the very edge of the Forbidden Forest - but there were not only flames. Hogsmeade seemed the more likely victim for just one other reason.

High in the sky for all to see was a bright green shape. Even from the castle Harry could make out the shape of a dragon with wings unfurled. In the place of the dragon's head, however, was a human skull. Harry knew straightaway, however, that the shape of this mark in the sky was largely unimportant - what gave away what the dragon meant was its colour. Harry had only ever seen that colour before in one context: it was the very colour of Voldemort's Dark Mark - Morsmordre.

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In the Staff Quarters corridor professors were running around like Muggles in Harrods on 'sale' day. Some were dressed; others were in nightshirts and dressing gowns. All were aware that something terrible had happened but no-one seemed willing or able to make either a useful suggestion or take the lead in the panic situation. Then, a candidate threw himself forward and Harry's brother-in-law strode out into the corridor with a very authoritative stride.

"I strongly suggest that you stay here, Harry," he heard the familiar voice of Severus Snape intone. "There's nothing you can do!"

"No way!" Harry shouted back at him. Nothing was going to keep him away from might spell danger for many of his friends and family in Hogsmeade.

Snape then smiled at Harry and said, "You never were any good at taking advice that was good for you, were you? Alright...if you're absolutely sure then stay with me!"

Snape, like Harry, had thrown on whatever clothes had been close at hand. The potions master was in black shirt, trousers and wizard robes; Harry was in jeans and sweatshirt - but they both ran down the staircase and through the large wooden castle doors, across the fields to the gates and out onto the road to Hogsmeade.

Harry was surprised at the athleticism of the older man. Harry was running flat out but Severus not only kept up with him but he seemed to be breathing more easily than he was - and sweating less. They made it to the village in less than ten minutes and were somewhat relieved to find Dumbledore there already, as if waiting for them. His face was pale and lined and his gait drooped slightly as if he were old and his heart heavy with grim news. His expression seemed to telegraph this to them and Harry was, by now, rather adept at reading the emotion behind the great wizard's eyes.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"It's over now," he began. Harry looked up and the Dragon sign had all but faded away from above the wreckage of the Hog's Head Inn. Flames still leapt from place to place but most of the wreckage was by now ash and glowing embers. Wooden-framed buildings with thatched roofs didn't last long in a fire like this one had been. "There will be casualties, I'm afraid, there were guests in four of the eight rooms at the Inn." Dumbledore shook his head.

"Do we know who? What about the staff, Albus?" Snape asked hurriedly.

Dumbledore sighed gently - never had Harry heard a single sigh say so much. It seemed to tell Harry in an instant that Dumbledore felt, at long last, that he had had enough. That he was too old for this. If another war was on the horizon then a younger, even if less wise and magnificent, wizard could - and would have to - deal with it. Harry felt an awful sense of resigned desperation, an abdication of the old wizard's enthusiasm, a hopeless realisation that, after all he had done and given for so long, there was still darkness in the world. All his efforts, it said, had been in vain - the inflection in his voice pronounced it clearly.

There was no twinkle at all left in the old man's eyes - those special, magical eyes that could say so much on their own with absolutely no need of utterance.

Harry walked forward and simply threw his arms around the old professor. From the corner of his eye he could see Severus looking astonished - even more so when loud, cracked sobs could still be heard despite being muffled by Harry's clothing. While the old man and, perhaps, his greatest student embraced Snape looked up once more into the Hogsmeade sky.

Above what was left of The Hog's Head Inn the sky was returning to a normal, black colour although the ash and smoke was still in evidence enough to add a grey mist between the ground and the stars. The faint outlined and greenish hue of the new Dark Mark hung in the sky like a bright image burned onto the retina of the eye. He closed his eyes and still saw it, but more vividly, the shape now restored to its glorious brightness and detail. The skull was the same as Morsmordre but without the snake protruding from the mouth - the dragon, even he could recognise, was a Norwegian Ridgeback.

Severus Snape averted his eyes from the sky and thought about asking once more about the casualties but, although he was by no means the most naturally sensitive man, he could sense that this was not the right time. After what for him was a very embarrassing and long few minutes Harry and the old headmaster released each other from the embrace and, almost instantly Albus Dumbledore crumpled to the ground. Harry stood; his eyes running with tears, his glasses once more useless as he watched the old wizard lie on the ground before the ashen remains of the Inn. Snape gasped and made to run forward to the old man's assistance but Harry this time raised his hand and shook his head. Snape stopped and his eyes did a frightened and rapid back and forth movement between the younger man and the ancient wizard.

"No!" he shouted but, again, Harry raised his hand in reproach. Now Snape whispered, "Harry! What..." He couldn't find the words.

"Is he...is he...d...dying?"

Harry looked hopelessly at the man he had both hated and loved with equal passions in the past and for now he could only feel the utmost pity.

"I don't know, Severus," he replied through his tears. "I don't think there's anything we can do, is there?" he continued rhetorically.

Snape stood, a look of the deepest concern etched onto his chiselled features. Then he stepped forward and knelt down beside the stricken wizard. Dumbledore feebly tried to raise a hand in defiance but Severus took the old man's hand in his and stroked it gently.

"He's cold, Harry. This doesn't look good."

Harry's first thought was for Aberforth, the headmaster's brother. Should he be brought? Summoned somehow? Aberforth lived in the Muggle World as Dick Abernathy, a landscape gardener, and was a good friend of Harry's. Then his brain seemed to grasp the reality of the situation - to become twitched by a series of electric currents - all of which were scorching through it at the same time screaming the meaning of what he could see in front of him.

Dumbledore was dying!

The old man had simply lain down on the floor and seemed to have given up. It was so unlike anything Harry had ever known of Dumbledore or might have expected of him.

Snape took from his belt a small vial. Harry wondered if it contained a nip of Ogden's Firewhiskey or something rather stronger, even, than that. He raised the vial to the old man's lips with an encouragement for him to drink it. A few drops passed onto the wizard's lips and his tongue came through his teeth to lick off the residue. In the moonlight every part of Albus Dumbledore's face and skin looked brown and leathery, almost as though he were already dead. His body gave a small shudder and Harry helped the potions master to place the apparently dying headmaster into a more comfortable position. It was clear that both men's hearts were breaking - tears streamed down both men's faces. If Dumbledore were really to 'lay down his wand' tonight it would be the end of a very, very great era. The man who had devoted the better part of his life to educating young witches and wizards in the best and most noble way appeared to be ebbing away - his own body's ancient defence mechanism seemed to be doing to him what countless dark wizards - including both Grindelwald and Voldemort - could not. The one crumb of comfort Harry felt was in the knowledge that, if this were indeed the end for one of the Wizarding World's greatest heroes, then it had come on his own terms and not at the hands, at least directly, of a foe.

"Can you hear me, headmaster?" Harry asked, kneeling over his prostrate mentor. But there was no reply.

Harry took Dumbledore's other hand - Snape still held the other firmly and affectionately. It was indeed cold. He felt totally and utterly helpless.

"I strongly suggest that you stay here, Harry. There's nothing you can do," he heard again. If Snape had only known how right those words had been...

Both men knelt, as though in fervent prayer beside the stricken wizard. Both men had eyes red and wet, cheeks with clean lines tracing down them through the ash of a fire-dirtied night. Their heads were bowed and they said nothing.

In the distance, Harry heard a noise; a sweet, high-pitched sound like a thousand summer flowers in full bloom. It filled the air with a fragrance that, in an instant, lifted the gloom and Harry could not resist a grateful smile when he recognised it for what it was. For Harry could hear that most wonderful, wonderful sound approaching from the distance. The sound of phoenix song.

Severus and Harry lifted their heads together as Fawkes glided in from the direction of the castle. He landed gently on Dumbledore's robes and nuzzled his head into the old wizard's neck, ceasing the birdsong. Then, tears welled in the bird's eyes and Fawkes dripped one from each into Dumbledore's open mouth.

Harry thought he saw the headmaster's chest start moving slightly again - was he breathing, he wondered? Fawkes then shifted his own position and began to tug at Dumbledore's robes. In an instant he lifted the old man off the ground - Harry had managed to forget how strong phoenixes were somehow and he gasped at the tour de force performed by such a comparatively small creature. Fawkes flew with the body over to the remains of the inn then laid the body down again in the glowing embers. Harry had seen Fawkes regenerate through embers before - but he was a phoenix. Neither he nor Snape understood quite what the bird was trying to achieve through its efforts - nevertheless it was wonderful to watch...and hear.

For the song had started again and another strange light coloured the night. The moon had previously been casting its cold, blue light on the scene all around them but now, a warmer, softer - almost golden red - glow lit the night. The glow was coming from an aura around Dumbledore's body. The music of the birdsong became broader and louder - a wonderful, magical crescendo that sounded like Fawkes had been joined by a choir of angels. Harry stood mesmerised throughout as the glow around the body grew in intensity with the music then flames began to leap from the previously glowing embers.

The stars in the sky seemed to glow more brightly and even the moon appeared to be smiling down on the Earth. Small animals such as rabbits, foxes, weasels, stoats and badgers came to watch from the outskirts of the forest and all the while the music continued, never growing tiresome or irritating but eternally fresh and inspiring, filling all who listened to it with its warmth, bestowing upon the listener an almost religious absolution. Snape put his arm around Harry's shoulder; an act that surprised the younger man in one way yet, on the other hand, seemed very natural given the atmosphere they found themselves in. Harry and Severus looked into each other's faces and smiled broadly - something about the situation they were in was filling them with joy...

Then, with a final, almost fanfare-like burst of song two phoenixes rose into the air together and flew beside each other over the Forbidden Forest - and Harry and Severus stood beside each other, watching where they had been just moments before with a reverent awe.

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With a series of loud cracks, rather like a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes 'Multicracking Crackerjack' firework the two Hogwarts professors were no longer alone. Percy, Katie and a middle-aged, mousey-looking man called Sykes (all aurors, of course) along with Hermione had Apparated into Hogsmeade and immediately began examining the ruins of the inn, searching for whatever might have happened and checking lists on clipboards (that was Percy's job, of course).

Hermione, who was very obviously in charge (even if, as an Unspeakable, she had not had seniority over the others they would hardly have dared argue the point with her) pointed her wand at the wreckage and incanted,

"Revelatio!"

Harry remembered the shimmering, pink afterglow of magic that had always appeared when he'd heard or used that particular spell before. 'Revelatio' was a revealing charm that would show where (and exactly what) magic had been used in this place in the near past.

A small and beautiful pink glow appeared on Snape's belt and also on his fingertips - that would be where he had touched and used the potion, which had - momentarily at least -revived the ailing Dumbledore; a larger pink area filled the spot where Fawkes had deposited the dying (or dead) Dumbledore and a pink trail - rather as if a jet plane had magically trailed candy floss behind it rather than exhaust fumes - led from that spot towards the forest.

But in greater number, and far more intensity were the shimmering green revelations. The new Dark Mark shone brightly again beaming down with a sick pride on the devastation caused by its perpetrators and the whole outline of what had been The Hog's Head. Hermione was obviously able to interpret the shapes within the green outline expertly and she immediately shouted across to Percy,

"Six deaths - five caused by the fire. One body - which was already dead - consumed by the fire." This last piece of news obviously worried Hermione and caused her considerable extra concern. So too the others - they all left what they were doing and joined her, Percy busily ticking and crossing names on his list with a small quill.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears just at the moment Percy and Katie threw their arms around her. 'One body - which was already dead - consumed by the fire'

"Oh God! Not Ron? No!" Harry thought, interpreting these actions in the only way that struck him as being possible. Fire couldn't kill Ron, of course - he and all assembled knew that - but it was beginning to look at least a possibility that he may have been killed and the inn then burned down - perhaps to try to hide the evidence? Katie was the Forensic Magic specialist, best able to interpret magical signatures. Her face and her glance towards Hermione at the same time filled Harry with the worst kind of dread.

Hermione had Apparated back home to Stratford after the party to get the place ready for her summer guests; Ron, being a werewolf, was - obviously - unable to Apparate (like Harry) and they were to be driven down by Maggie Snape the next day. But had Ron stayed at the Hog's Head or with George and Angelina? Harry turned to run towards the big old house at the other end of the main Hogsmeade street but Snape was ahead of him, already half way to Hog's End.

As Harry stepped forward briskly to approach Hermione, however, Katie left her, turned and ran over to him.

"Ron was definitely booked in here as a guest for the night," she informed him quietly. "The inn's register was magically linked with the Ministry - as soon as a guest checks in or out Ministry records are instantly updated. Percy has the list of who was staying here and in which rooms. You see, George and Angelina weren't sure if they had room for him as well as Percy and me, Nita and my dad, Molly and Arthur and the children. If anyone Apparated straight home after the party then we have to pray Ron stayed there instead - or maybe he slept on the floor - otherwise..."

Once again Harry's heart lurched.

"No...Please? Not again!" he pleaded out loud, turning his head in time to see Severus bounding up the steps of Hog's End in the distance and he banged the front door so hard he could hear it although he was two hundred yards away.

Now Katie threw her arms around Harry and held him very tightly.

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Chapter Twenty-four

Four Funerals...

Ron himself came running up the village street wearing only pyjama bottoms, his face flushed and his hair flowing behind him in the moonlight. When he reached the area where the aurors and Harry stood he picked up Hermione and her tears of worry and despair turned to ones of utmost relief. Harry, too, felt his heart lurch again and he cried once more - this time with joy - because his friend was alive.

Ron put Hermione down and he stooped, lowering his mighty frame so his head could reach down and kiss her. Ron had ended up being well over a foot taller than his wife, whose physical stature had peaked at sixteen. He had continued to grow taller until he was nineteen-and-a half, ending at six feet five inches. Their mouths consumed each other for some time, the kiss far deeper and passionate than would usually have been appropriate or comfortable in public. When George arrived at the scene a few minutes later with Snape even he did not have the insensitivity to tell them to 'get a room' - that would have been his instinctive reaction to just about any other public kiss like theirs and in just about any other situation.

The relief that Ron was alive was felt by all present. Even Sykes, who had never met Ron so far as anyone else knew, had whitened when he thought Hermione's husband may not have survived and all had shared her intense fear and horror over the last ten minutes. By now, quite a small crowd had arrived on the scene. Snape's banging had obviously woken other Hogsmeade residents and there were about twenty people in all now standing in front of the fire-devastated building.

Finally becoming aware others were watching their relieved kissing, Hermione showed her professionalism once more and pushed her husband aside gently, brushed down her robes demurely and smoothed her hair.

"Nocensformida," she announced with perfect clarity and decorum. "A new Dark Mark. It means 'wicked - evil - and the dread of all bad things'. We have been aware of this mark being practiced in several places over the last few months but it has never been used to accompany an act of terror - until tonight.

"A dark mark invariably accompanies not just terrorist acts but usually signifies the presence of a particular type of perpetrator - a Dark Lord. That would explain why this is the first dark mark to be seen since the demise of the Dark Lord Voldemort some years ago," she continued. Harry thought once again how she always tended to sound as though she were reading from a textbook - her little speech here sounded like so many of her many lectures to him when still at school - in those days the 'textbook' had almost invariably been 'Hogwarts: A History', of course.

"It is by no means easy to become as powerful as one needs to be to be able to conjure a new dark mark nor to elevate oneself (if elevate is the right word) to the status of Dark Lord. Such secrets are kept securely within the most magical places of the Department of Mysteries and are rarely divulged, even to Unspeakables.

"Professor Dumbledore became suspicious in the Autumn Term, however, that dark magic was once again being practised within the confines of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That was one of the reasons Harry Potter here was brought back to the school but, despite his efforts so far it would appear the activities have not ceased - but remember, please, that Harry has only been back at Hogwarts for a couple of months or so - and the efforts of other Hogwarts staff" (at this point she threw an accusatory look towards Severus Snape - a look Harry thought - and perhaps more importantly, hoped - was distinctly unfair) have not been any more successful.

"Charlie Weasley has been trying to discover for some time why almost fifty dead animals were found burned in the Forbidden Forest last year. We believe now that these animals were killed deliberately by using various - curses - inappropriate for students and adult wizards alike. In the last few days a 5^th Year pupil has reported to us, via his parents, that he saw another pupil suffer Cruciatus..."

"Utter nonsense," shouted Snape suddenly, sounding and looking exactly the same as he had been in what Harry might have preferred to call 'the bad old days'. "Your snide insulations that Slytherins are behind this are completely unfounded..."

"I have made no such insinuations, Severus," Hermione responded with enormous reserves of authority. She managed to stop him mid-rant with

one short sentence. Then she gave him the chance to continue.

"I have worked very hard this year to find evidence of such dark goings on. With the valuable assistance of both Argus Filch and my own trusted prefect Grendel Chambers we have discovered naught untoward." He spoke as if he expected everyone present to totally accept his justification as a result of this given evidence. Instead, Hermione looked at him squarely and asked,

"Did you ever consider whether your - trust - might have been misplaced at all?"

"Chambers should have been Head Boy," he pronounced matter-of-factly. "Only Dumbledore disagreed and..." he seemed to be struggling a little to find acknowledging faces before delivering his coup-de-grace.

"And even he," he sneered now, "had to agree with me in the end. He acknowledged this, of course, by appointing him as the new Hogwarts Librarian at the end of term!"

There was an uneasy silence for some moments. Then Hermione stepped forward and arrived directly in front of her old Potions Master.

"You really don't get it, do you?" she almost shouted at him. "Your pet pupil was put exactly where Albus wanted him! Where he could keep an eye on him!" She paused for a moment then continued more calmly, "You have a great number of talents, Professor Snape..." then she lowered her voice so only he and Harry, who was standing alongside him, could hear her.

"...Not to mention a rather chequered past when it comes to making...certain very important decisions!" As if to press her point Hermione rubbed her forearm - an action that made Snape wince - his forearm would always bear the scar of Morsmordre - Voldemort's Dark Mark - from his misguided days as one of his Death Eaters. "You habitually decide far too quickly which pupils to trust and favour and which to...to do your very best to humiliate and destroy." She was clearly referring here to own experiences, Harry thought correctly. Snape had made Hermione cry on several occasions when she had been the only one in the room knowing the answer to one of his questions and he had refused to ask her. Whenever she had ventured the answer without his permission he had put her down as an 'insufferable know-it-all' and hurt her even more. He was a different man since marrying Maggie, they all knew, but the Chambers situation, at least in Hermione's opinion, showed that some aspects of Severus Snape's methods still needed considerable improvement.

"That is not right. And nor is your evaluation of the former prefect Chambers." Her next, and final, sentence to him almost knocked him over with shock. "IT WOULD NOT SURPRISE ME IN THE LEAST IF GRENDEL CHAMBERS WAS AT THE VERY LEAST INVOLVED IN TONIGHT'S ATROCITIES - AND AT WORST IF HE - YES, DESPITE HIS TENDER AGE - IF HE WERE THE NEW DARK LORD HIMSELF!"

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'Dumbledore,' Harry thought suddenly. 'Does she even know about Dumbledore?' Then he wondered what he knew about Dumbledore! Was he dead or alive? Had he witnessed some 'higher' magic earlier - god magic even? - or was the old wizard a phoenix animagus? Had he 'died' and been reborn from the ashes?

Harry had no idea. He had experienced so much in his life as a wizard but he realised there was always still something new to discover. He realised he had now reached the true point where there was nothing more he could do and walked, often very slowly, back to the castle.

Once there he packed the rest of the things he would need for the summer - including some items he'd bought for Dai on the present-buying shopping trip with Maggie and almost forced himself to take another couple of hours of sleep before waking for his run and breakfast. Later he would try to enjoy the car ride down to Stratford.

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Both Harry and Ron had asked that Maggie drive slowly through the countryside rather than use the motorways so they could stop in the lovely country towns of Alnwick - which they'd heard several times was home to the Muggle castle closest in external design to Hogwarts - Holmfirth - where one of Harry's favourite TV comedy programmes was made and the Derbyshire town of Bakewell - where they made Harry's favourite Muggle cakes. He couldn't wait for Ron to try the tarts made from pastry filled with raspberry jam, almond sponge and thick, cherry-topped icing.

The twins had been wonderful company in the car, playing peek-a-boo with Ron for over an hour at one stage. Stu was also rather taken by Harry's CD Walkman and had familiarised himself with Coldplay, although Nirvana had been a bit noisy for him and he had grimaced at the loud guitars and pulled the headphones out of his ears.

"That's called good taste, young Stu!" laughed his Uncle Ron, who had also never managed to understand Harry's oft-hidden passion for Muggle rock music. Ron was sat on the back seat of the car in-between the twins' car seats and Harry could reach back and punch him in a friendly way on the leg from where he sat on Maggie's left in the front.

Ron yelped loudly and rubbed his knee as if it had been whacked with a sledgehammer making Savannah squeal with laughter (and making Ron carry on the charade for another full two minutes). Stu sat in a far more dignified way (like father like son) and looking out of the corner of his eye at Ron with the best approximation of mild disdain a toddler of his age could muster. He was obviously all 'giggled-out' by the marathon peek-a-boo session and going through a 'serious' phase between Holmfirth and Bakewell!

True to form, Ron ate at least a dozen Bakewell Tarts and took a box full home with him as well - making Harry glad he'd changed a few golden galleons into Muggle money before the trip. Maggie did this for him by Apparating to London and back during breakfast - she needed Muggle money for petrol, of course, as well as snacks and drinks for Savvy and Stu.

When the journey to Stratford ended Harry and Ron got out with their luggage and said their goodbyes. Considering the horrors, stress and relief of the night before they had managed to enjoy the journey as best they could and it was only when they entered the old manor house that they were reminded again of the events they had been part of in Hogsmeade. Maggie had been very quiet and subdued throughout, however and so had Harry, if truth be told. Ron was best at hiding his true feelings - no surprises there - and he had entertained the children tirelessly for most of the time they were awake (about 5 hours in all).

Hermione would usually have been at home on a Sunday evening but was not there tonight, obviously still at work. Ron got drinks and Harry helped him cook some sausages and chips (no house-elves in this wizard home!) then Ron showed Harry to his room and they slept very soundly throughout the night.

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Some three hundred or so mourners were assembled in the large, dimly lit Gothic church for the fourth funeral of the victims of the attack nearly two weeks later. Two of the victims had been a honeymooning witch and wizard from Australia, their funeral had been in Melbourne and the funeral of the landlord of The Hog's Head had been a gloomy affair in Hogsmeade Church. Two more funerals were yet to take place as the victims had only just been found out to be Della Topley (an American model who was working at the Ministry as a secretary in Arthur's Department); she was the brown-eyed brunette Harry had wanted to dance with - and Daniele di Napoli, an Italian wizard and the blond Quidditch writer Charlie had wanted to dance with...

This church was almost large enough to be a cathedral, Harry thought as he sat waiting for the service to begin. The air was cold, partly because of the thick, stone walls and the bizarre fact the funeral service was taking place at 11p.m. but also because of the overwhelming air of depression, which always dominated proceedings such as this one.

Doleful organ music played slowly, filling the air with that special amalgam of reverence, worship and awe that only it could when played in that particular way. The blend of soft flutes and reeds sang quietly, joined at times by the massive depth of the pedals. When the music made a crescendo the resonance of these pedal notes caused the whole ambience of the church to reverberate. Harry felt his whole body tremor and a tingle went right down his arms. At the same time something touched his heart and his eyes began to well with tears once more.

Behind him someone sobbed, trying her best to stifle her anguish and clearly failing, as the sob dissolved into a series of loud sniffs. Somewhere else to Harry's left he heard a man openly crying. His own anguish at the loss of yet another good and close friend hurt him deeply and, because this was the first church funeral he had attended since that of his cousin Dudley (not including those in his 'alternate life'), all those memories flashed forward in his head and made them feel as real to him on this dull Tuesday as they had eleven years before.

The lengthy piece of baroque organ music faded away with an extended series of decorated minor chords and sounds of shuffling feet at the back of the church announced the arrival of the funeral party.

His parents, sombrely dressed in black and brown, shuffled slowly down the centre aisle and sat in the front pew with six spaces reserved alongside them for the pallbearers. His only living relatives, Harry thought sadly. Harry sat behind these empty seats alongside Hermione, while Neville and Karyn were next to her. The rest of the Hogwarts staff, with the notable exception of Dumbledore, filled the rows behind them but there were several other faces Harry knew in the congregation as well as many more he did not recognise. Eustace and Glenda Bean were at the front of the left half of the church with, presumably, fifty or so Ministry workers alongside and behind them.

Harry turned his head to see the pallbearers carrying the coffin through the open church doors. The first two bearers he recognised immediately, of course. His own godfather, Sirius Black and Alex Wood wore faces of grey grief as they carried out their solemn task.

Another piece of music started playing. The organ was now reduced to playing the accompaniment this time as a saxophonist stood and notes began to emanate from the gleaming brass-lacquered instrument. At first it sounded like a slow blues, the 6/8 lilt of the introduction sounding slightly out of place being played on a church organ. Then the soloist began playing the melody and the bearers started bringing the coffin to the front of the church.

All of a sudden Harry couldn't help smiling. He turned to Hermione who was trying her best not to laugh, although it was equally clear her lips were trembling with emotion and her eyes were red. She looked like a little girl, he thought - like she had done when she was eleven or twelve. His heart leapt for her, unable on this day of the month of all days, to even have her husband by her side for comfort. Harry put his arm around her back, pulling her head into his neck. He rested his hand on her bare shoulder, stroking it gently. She lifted her head again as the laughter she had managed to stifle a few moments before began to openly ripple around the chasm of a church as the words associated with the bluesy melody began to become apparent.

"...without a dream in my heart,

without a love of my own..."

Harry turned around again and saw that a big, white, helium filled balloon on a single string rose above the coffin where, more usually, a bouquet of flowers would sit.

"Blue moon..."

Sirius was smiling despite the gloomy load on his shoulders; Alex, too was trying to see the bright side but finding it more difficult. Finally, they reached the front of the church and respectfully bowed to the coffin before taking their allotted seats beside Mr and Mrs Lupin.

The vicar made his way to the pulpit and began to speak:

"Dear friends, thank you so much for coming to the church this evening for this rather unusual, I have to say, service in memory of our dear friend Remus Lupin - or Moony as he was better known to some of us here - and particularly to the youngsters he had worked with for several years teaching basketball in the Youth Club. It was his encouragement and inspiration that was, largely, behind the success of the Puddlemere Parish Church Basketball Team and the trophies they have won over the last few seasons.

"Moony was one of life's great characters and, the notes he left with his parents concerning arrangements for this service are the reason we are all here at this unearthly time of night! In his own words, and I quote:

'I wanted you all there knowing full well that, were I still alive, I could not have been! And if I were - you, sure as heck, wouldn't be!'"

About seventy percent of the congregation laughed (showing the proportion of wizards and Muggles present) and, as coincidence would have it (were there such a thing, of course!), the dim lights of the church were, at that very moment, augmented by a new light shining through the large side window as a cloud shifted from in front of the night's full moon, allowing its lustrous glow to enter and cast a shadow across the altar.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand, obviously thinking of Ron as well as his great friend. A Ministry menial somewhere in the church was recording the service on omnioculars for Ron to watch later. For what it was worth he thought Remus's idea of having his own funeral in the middle of the night - especially a night with a full moon - was utterly hilarious and had helped him cope with the loss of his great friend and colleague. He had wondered who he would have the blazing rows with now he was gone but tried his best to banish selfish thoughts like that from his mind. Tonight he was spending alone in the suites set-aside for werewolf accommodation in the Ministry - suites that were infinitely more salubrious surroundings than the dirty, damp dungeons used before Remus and Ron had engineered such great advances in werewolf relations over the last few years.

"Remus - Moony, as most of you knew him, chose the wholly appropriate music that accompanied his grand entrance tonight, as many of you will have guessed. And he also chose the rest of the music we shall...ahem...enjoy throughout the service. In fact, his parents assure me he has had the preparations for a service such as this ready for well over twenty years, kept in a sealed envelope inside the family bible at home.

"While it is always a sad time when someone we love passes on he asked, in his notes, that we - specifically today - try to remember him with a smile. I don't think I've ever had a balloon adorn a coffin before in my church, for instance and I'm sure it would have brought a broad smile to Remus's face to have heard the laughter it, and his music, gave us. He asks us not to be embarrassed to smile or laugh, even on an occasion like this. Again, to quote from his own words - 'there is enough sadness and pomposity in the world already. If your heart feels like smiling, tell your face about it!'"

The vicar continued for a while then introduced the first hymn and the congregation rose to sing as the organ played the opening lines.

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my father,

There is no shadow of turning with thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;

As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Hermione had never come across these words before and found them very moving; most of the rest of the congregation raised their voices and sang them with gusto, the sounds of massed voices ringing and echoing around the walls of the church bringing warmth and comfort to those gathered.

Harry wondered, as he sang, why Remus had chosen this particular hymn. He hadn't known his old DADA teacher to be particularly religious - he was very aware that at least his sexual morals were light years away from St Paul's stated ideals! Then he nodded to himself as he remembered being told about how Remus's parents were avid churchgoers. He looked at Mrs Lupin now, her quivering mouth trying to join in the hymn while her little right hand clutched a small black bible tightly.

Summer and winter, and spring-time and harvest,

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Harry smiled again, although he felt his eyes wetten once more. There was the obligatory 'moon' reference. He guessed that would be the common theme throughout this entire event.

Between the second and third verses the organist improvised a linking passage which both showed his skills and allowed the singers to 'gather themselves' in preparation for the last verse. Toward the end of his impromptu voluntary he modulated and raised the key by a semitone before they sang:

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

As the congregation sat again Harry breathed out deeply. There was a real sense of comfort in singing words like that, he thought. He had a new favourite hymn; that was for sure! Rather irreverently, he wondered if the Hogwarts school song might fit that tune and tried working it out in his head, thus completely missing the vicar's prayer. Towards the end of it Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and he gasped, startled.

"Stop humming!" she hissed at him. He pulled a face, pretending to be embarrassed but almost bursting into laughter.

There then followed a very boring and stuffy eulogy from Eustace Bean, who was introduced to the congregation as 'a high-ranking political official' (anyone who was magical knew who he was anyway but the Muggles seemed to be impressed by this), in which he referred to Lupin's 'exemplary attitude to his work' and thanked him for the 'tremendous work he had done for minority groups'. After this Hermione again stood and walked with three other very attractive ladies over to their instruments, forming a string quartet. The first violinist announced that they were to play a new arrangement for string quartet of Beethoven's Sonata in C# Minor - Sonata Quasi Una Fantasia.

The title meant little to Harry, or anyone else in the church for that matter. He wondered why it had been chosen, let alone a special arrangement of it made. 'Probably one of his favourites,' Harry thought but he could not recall Remus ever being a big classical music aficionado. Then, as the piece began, he and many others realized the link, once again very obvious.

The solo violin played the slow, haunting melody - so familiar to most ears - while Hermione used a wide vibrato to enhance the beautiful, descending bass lines. Between them the 2^nd violin and viola traded rows of triplets, bringing out the depth of the harmonies. Later, the viola player, a stunning girl with fair, almost blonde hair and wearing an ankle-length strapless dress which appeared to be black velvet yet shimmered deep purple under the lights, took over the melody before passing it gently to Hermione. Back and forth the tune went, rising to high-pitched climaxes before the reintroduction of the main melody drew the piece towards its, almost painfully slow conclusion, the last echoes of Hermione's deep C sharp resounding in the air: seemingly unwilling to finally end. When it did the performers sat unmoved in the pale, white light shining through the window. A Moonlight Sonata in all senses.

The sound of the congregation being physically able to breathe once more only added to the sensation of a marvellous performance. There was no applause but a standing ovation in each listener's soul.

As Hermione sat Harry whispered,

"Did you do that arrangement? It was wonderful!"

Hermione beamed with pride, her smile of deserved pride lighting her face. Harry shook his head. He still found it hard to believe he had known Hermione for over five years before he even found out she could play the cello - let alone make it speak!

Sirius rose to give the second eulogy, or 'tribute by lifelong friend Newf Lyon', as the vicar announced it:

"Remus and I went to school together and were, therefore, friends for more than thirty years. There were, in fact, four of us in our little gang - we were known as 'The Marauders'. It pains me more than I can say to you today that...that I am the last 'marauder' still walking this earth. My three best friends from school are now dead. It makes me feel old to tell you that - but even worse is the fact that, of the three of them not one died what you would call a 'natural death'.

"Throughout all the years I knew Remus I could not have wished for a better friend. He found ways of communicating with me and encouraging me even in the darkest moments of my life, dark moments I cannot even begin to make you understand here in Puddlemere tonight." Sirius paused, reflecting as he always did on the indescribable horrors of twelve years undeserved incarceration in the very worst kind of prison - his own private hell.

"Yet this encouragement came from a man who carried himself a most unfair and unwarranted affliction, one which affected just about every part of his life. An affliction that saw him persecuted, discriminated against and even hated by many who really ought to have known better. He was not universally liked - in fact there were those who despised him!" Sirius looked at the rows of Hogwarts staff and let his eyes rest on Severus Snape, who was looking down at his feet. "And I am sure there were many things he did in his own life of which he was not particularly proud - but how many of you here today can say that is not the case in their own life?

"I, for one, am eternally grateful that Remus Lupin touched my life. He and I started sharing a dormitory when we were eleven. The four 'marauders' developed our nicknames over the next few years- he was, of course - as we have heard several times already tonight - Moony, I was Padfoot the dog and our two other 'comrades in arms' were Wormtail and Prongs.

"I would hate to be forced to look back through the school records at the number of offences we committed, the detentions we accrued, the House Points we lost for our team. Mischief seemed to be our watchword and I, like Remus, have never lost that quirky - some might say 'warped' - sense of humour throughout the rest of my life. Why else would I, a proud Briton with a family castle in Scotland - and a man who couldn't previously sail a hundred yards without getting seasick - choose to take my wife, my son and my pet 12 foot flying monster to live on a tiny island off the East Coast of the USA?

"Because of the spirit of adventure I learned from my friends, that's why!

"Remus had an adventurous spirit, alright! The kind of spirit that saw him try to swim right round the Isle of Bute when we were teenagers, in November...and in the nude! The same sense of adventure that saw him try to date both halves of a set of twins at the same time and hope not to get caught out!

"But he had the heart of gold we all wish we had. A heart that made him care intensely for his friends and to always put their needs above his own. A heart that made him stop what he was doing if an animal was in pain and help it be more comfortable. A heart that let him fall in love far too easily and far too often for him to avoid the pain that so often goes with it.

"Remus did not have the happiest of 'love lives'. Not for him the opportunity to settle down with the 'girl next door'. Remus certainly had an eye for the ladies - but, dare I say - ahem - he was also a man's man! He had a lot of love to give and, if truth be told, he probably did not get back as much as he deserved. Probably the greatest love of his life was stolen from him by a terrorist attack and now we know, of course, that Remus himself died as the result of yet another cowardly attack on innocent people.

"He worked in several fields, giving each of them his dedication and commitment. He was a very fine classroom teacher - and there are ex-pupils of his here today, including my own godson - the son of my fellow 'marauder' Prongs - who could tell you better than I can just how inspirational he was in that profession. He was, for a time, a night watchman - a million miles away from the sort of profession he merited - I say that with all due respect to his former colleagues who have travelled from Manchester to be with us here today.

"You have heard already this evening about his work with young people - running the basketball team here at the church. I know nothing about basketball, I'm afraid - the hoops go in the wrong direction compared to the sort of games I'm used to playing - but I am told he gave to that voluntary task the same devotion he gave his 'day job', working for the benefit of others - the theme of Remus Lupin's life.

"Remus was, despite his love for mischief, essentially a peace-maker - a man who could calm an unruly classroom with a flash of his luminous hazel eyes. A man I loved. A man I will miss with all my heart.

!I salute my old mate - so long, Moony."

As Sirius saluted and said this last line his voice cracked for the first time during his speech. He stood silently and with bowed head over the coffin in silence before returning to the seat in front of Harry.

Oliver and Alex Wood then showed hidden talents by singing a duet accompanying themselves with acoustic guitars. With their thick Scottish accents they reminded Harry of 'The Proclaimers'. They performed a medley of popular songs and it didn't take long before the themes that linked the songs together became apparent:

"Hold me close, don't let me go - oh, no..."

they sang, strumming the guitars in unison.

"With your love light shining

Every cloud has a silver lining..."

Then the rhythm changed and they launched into George Harrison's 'Here Comes the Moon'. Next was 'Silver Lady' and then they mellowed the mood with softer, picked chords and the saxophonist played Glenn Miller's 'Moonlight Serenade. Finally the tempo was picked up again and the medley ended with Duran Duran's 'Hungry Like a Wolf' and 'Hi! Ho! Silver Lining' and the congregation applauded, whooped and cheered the duo as they took a bow and replaced their instruments on their stands.

The vicar then read from the bible a passage about eternal life in Heaven and paid a final tribute, ending by quoting directly once more from Remus's funeral notes:

"I wondered how best to end this service. Another of my favourite hymns was always 'Nearer My God To Thee' - I used to sing it when I was a boy treble in the church choir back at home - I bet most of you didn't know I used to do that, did you? I loved the lines:

Or, if on joyful wing,

Cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon and stars forgot,

Upward I fly,

Still all my song shall be

Nearer, my God, to Thee

"Well, if you're listening to this it would seem I've already flown, I suppose. I don't think I'll get you to sing that one, though - you'd all be thinking of Kate and Leo going down with the Titanic if you did! Plus, it's a bit miserable to send you all on your way at midnight!

So, I'm going to ask Sirius and Alex to lead you all in a bit of 'Morecambe and Wise'. You know, for years I was afraid of the night. Then someone made me realise that, instead of fearing it I should really be looking forward to the next day - when the dawn brings new hope and we can feel the warmth of the sun once more.

"And I hope I'm now in a better place- where, hopefully, the sun shines a bit more than in England! So, I thought about saying, like a postcard, 'Wish You Were Here'...but there's always the chance I've gone the 'other way' I suppose - and I don't think it would be fair for me to wish that on you, would it?

"So I'll sign off with the song instead. Padfoot, take it away!"

Sirius stood again, as did Alex and they linked arms and tripped their way to the centre once more. The organ played a brief intro and they started singing the 'signature tune' of the popular comedy duo:

Bring me sunshine

In your smile.

Bring me laughter

All the while.

In this world where we live

There should be more happiness

So much joy you could give,

To each brand new bright tomorrow.

Make me happy

Through the years

Never bring me any tears

Let your arms be as warm

As the sun from up above

Bring me fun - bring me sunshine,

Bring me love!

When they reached the end of their duet verse Sirius took out his wand and started conducting with it like a baton. Alex grabbed Harry and Hermione and made them hold a large scroll Sirius actually conjured with his 'baton' (Eustace Bean's mouth dropped open wondering if the Muggles present would need memory charms) and, when it unrolled itself the letters on the parchment shone and twinkled for the congregation to join in.

Everyone stood and many of them joined Sirius and Alex in the silly dance movements, crossing their arms behind their backs and in front of their foreheads and kicking their legs behind them. One senior Ministry official managed to fall over sideways knocking over three others like a set of toppling dominoes and the vicar was at first rather astonished to see dancing in his aisle then, after having each arm grabbed by the grinning Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout decided to join in himself. Actually, with his bald head and dark-rimmed glasses he made a pretty good Morecambe!

The song went on for nearly ten minutes and by the end big, white balloons were flying around the room, the string quartet, guitarists and saxophonist were jamming along and the singing was as loud as a football crowd! Harry hoped that someone had remembered to put a silencing charm on the church beforehand or the nearby residents would be wondering what on earth was happening!

When he left the church he, and all the other guests, for that matter were smiling and laughing. They departed into the church hall next door where food and drinks were laid out on tables - it looked as good as a Hogwarts feast and the guests mingled and chatted animatedly while they ate.

Harry finally found time to speak to Sirius although Hermione had told him already that his godfather, Alicia/Lizzie and Arne/James would be stopping with them for a few days before going back to Maine. Alicia gave Harry the most enormous hug and kiss. Neville introduced Karyn who looked remarkably like a female version of her husband. She was quite tall and dark haired with glasses and she had a very similar gormless, toothy smile. She was obviously a very well educated lady - from Macedonia, she told him - and she explained that Fern and Gemma were spending the night at Neville's grandmother's house. She and Neville were going to Apparate to St. Mungo's in the morning to see his parents and then they were picking up the girls and heading back to Glastonbury in the afternoon.

Harry asked Neville about his parents but he replied that there was still very little change in their condition. On one occasion, a few months ago, he had been visiting and had nipped out to the loo for a few minutes and when he got back a few minutes later his mum had carried on the conversation they'd been having before he went. That was the first time she had ever done that and his hopes had been raised that it might lead to more progress but he had heard no more good news since - nor even a repeat of that one glimmer of hope.

Hermione was talking to a group of workers from the factory in Manchester about their memories of Remus. Or she was trying to...they seemed more interested in attempting to chat her up, tell her how gorgeous she looked and complimenting her cello playing! When Harry sidled over one of them asked if he was her husband. He winked at her and smiled answering 'yes, lovely isn't she', whereupon one of the workmen clearly sighed 'lucky bastard' and went to get another slice of passion-fruit gateau, his hopes obviously well and truly dashed.

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

The music and lyrics used in the service are from the following acknowledged sources:

'Blue Moon' - R Rodgers/L Hart

'Great is Thy faithfulness' - T Chisholm/W Runyan

'Bring Me Sunshine' - S Dee/A Kent

'Hold Me Close' - David Essex

'Nearer My God to Thee' - S Adams/L Mason