Hermione's Grief

Lilith stood under the weeping willow, the willows tendrils swaying back and forth, sweeping the cold graveyard ground. The wooden coffin was slowly lowered into the grave between those of her mother's two best friends. Oh, her mother had loved her friends Harry and Ron. Not that Hermione Potter, Headmistress of Hogwarts until her death, had ever forgotten anything, but she could remember in vivid and striking detail every moment of her life with Harry and Ron.

Lilith looked around at the graveyard as the coffin slowly sunk into the grave, carrying with it one of the most heroic witches of all time, matchless in her devotion to her friends and students. Next to her mother's grave were Harry and Ron's, of course. The other nearby headstones listed all those whom Hermione, and later Lilith, had looked up to in her life. Remus Lupin. Sirius Black. Albus Dumbledore. Molly Weasely. Arthur Weasely. James Potter. Lily Potter.

Even though Lilith had never known her paternal grandparents, she still admired them, James for his courage and bravery and Lily for her devotion, sacrificing her own life so that her son could live and thrive, though his own life was rudely cut short somehow. Hermione had died without telling anyone the story.

The only one of her parents' generation who was still alive was Ginny Weasely, and even she was fading. Leaning on Lilith's shoulder, Lilith could feel Ginny trembling as she wiped her eyes.

The coffin was in the grave now; people were starting to throw dirt on top of it. All of her mother's students had shown up, regardless of what house they had been in. Hogwarts was closed for a week so that all of the students could attend the funeral. Though it wasn't mandatory, every student, even the Slytherins, had come.

Lilith and Ginny stepped forward once everyone had thrown in their dirt. They each threw in a handful and then jointly performed a charm so that the rest of the grave would be filled. A light wind whistled through the willow; its branches rose into the air like so many green streamers. Dead leaves fell off the tree, and, like tears, they floated to the ground, coming to a rest on top of the grave.

Lilith's daughter, Ariadne, pulled on her mother's robes. Lilith hushed her daughter, trying to focus on the Minister's eulogy. Ariadne kept tugging, pointing to the sky. Lilith picked up her daughter, hugging her tightly and wiping Ariadne's eyes with the side of her hand. Ariadne leaned in to whisper to her mother.

"Look Mommy, there are people flying in the sky," Ariadne jabbed her finger towards the sky above Hermione's grave.

Sure enough, there were people flying. Not people, Lilith realized with a start, but spirits. Ginny turned to look where Lilith was looking and gasped slightly when she saw them.

Floating by the top of the willow tree were three spirits, all teenagers. On the left was a tall lanky boy with freckles; on the right was a slender boy with messy hair and a scar on his forehead. In the middle was Hermione, as Lilith recognized her from old Hogwarts' photos. All three of the spirits were made of silver mist, the type that lines the insides of every cloud. They were watching the assembled crowd, each holding onto each other tightly, as if they were afraid that the other would fly away.

When they saw that Lilith and Ginny had seen them, Hermione and Harry winked in their direction, and then the three spirits clasped hands in a circle, causing the branches to blow like a curtain, though the wind had died down. Holding hands tightly, the three spirits floated upwards into the bright, cloudless, blue sky.