Where I Come From

-Where I Come From-

"Some say it's a backwards place, narrow minds on narrow ways, but I make it a point to say 'That's where I come from.' "

--Kenny Chesney

Harry sat alone on a low wall in the courtyard. Snow covered the ground, the walls, but it was old and dirty, not like fresh, newly fallen snow. White snow, which had always reminded Harry of peace and of a settling, of relaxing, and of tranquility. A release. Coming back after it all, well, it was...it was...difficult. It was this day, eight years ago, that he had first set foot inside Hogwarts. This day, exactly a year ago, that he had begun Seventh Year. In those days, the school held a splendor, a sparkle, as if the memories of past students and fond friends were alive within the great stone walls...but now...now....

The war had come swiftly, brutally. It had taken the lives of many, many people, be they good, evil. The war it's self took the lives of Bill, Charlie, Mr. Weasley, Percy, and poor little Ginny. It had devoured Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and various other fighters for the good. But then, the war had, in a way, also slayed Sirius, Cedric, and Harry's own parents. Oh, there were plenty of Death Eaters dead, as well. Bellatrix Lestrange got a nice fatal injury from a Bone-Crushing Jinx thrown by Lupin, who was currently in St. Mungo's with several wounds of his own. Harry himself had, of course, slain Voldemort, and yes, that was good, but...

Harry looked around him. Hogwarts lay in ruins. The grand castle was pieces; only about a third of it still stood. The Forbidden Forest was a smouldering wreckage of what used to be a thriving, beautiful, even if a scary place. The lake showed eerily an abundance of dead corpses of Merfolk and men. Here, in the courtyard, things were still somewhat recognizable. This had been the regular hang-out during breaks and weekends for he, Ron and Hermione, when they were not in the common room. Gawd, this place held so many memories, if he could relive them he would, if only he could go back and be a third year again, wouldn't it be grand...

Harry started and looked up. He'd heard footsteps quiet in the snow, he'd been sure of it. Looking around, he saw a cloaked, hooded figure moving toward him. The figure stopped. Harry reached for his wand.

"Who are you?" he whispered audibly. The figure took two steps toward him and removed the hood. "Malfoy?" Harry asked, incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Malfoy said icily, yet with a whisper of solemness that surprised Harry, "except I bet I already know." Draco Malfoy moved to sit on the wall. Harry just stared at him. There was snow on his shoulders, standing out against the black, and a strange look in his eyes as he looked out over the grounds. "We fought on opposing sides of the war, Potter, it's true," he said quietly, "and we still detest each other very strongly. But, when your parents have actually been around your entire life, and you've had them as parents for seventeen years, and suddenly they're both slaughtered right in front of you, as mine were, you tend to...reflect."

"What...?" Harry said, not sure what to think. Malfoy got up and walked slowly across the courtyard, toward the opposite corner, where he and his Slytherin gang had stationed themselves in the days of old. He kneeled and, with a delicate gloved hand, gently brushed the snow away from the ground. He stared at the spot he had uncovered before he spoke.

"Potter. Come here."

"Wh-"

"Just do it."

Harry, reluctantly, obliged. He kneeled next to Draco, and stared at a red stain on the stone. "This is where my mother lay until she finally bled to death, Potter," Malfoy said without the slightest trace of a crack in his voice, although he spoke quietly and sadly. "But look, here, under the stain. See that? See my initials carved into the stone? This place, this castle, was home to all of us. We all have some many memories here, even a slimy Gryffindor like yourself could appreciate that." Harry opened his mouth to reply, when, yet again, he heard footsteps crunching the snow softly, this time from behind them. Apparently Malfoy had heard it too, because they turned to see in unison. Two figures, hand in hand, came toward them, cloaked, but not hooded. It was Ron and Hermione.

Harry barely had time to stand before another figure moved out from behind the trees. Pansy Parkinson. Draco moved to go to her when yet another sound of crunching snow echoed from the far left. Fred and George. They all moved in on Harry and Draco until they stood in a tight circle. Ron seemed a little squeamish about standing so near two Slytherins, but for reasons unspoken, understood, he did anyway.

"Well, well. Looks like the old crowd's nearly all here," said Fred. A split second later, who should show up but Cho Chang, tailed by Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, and Hannah Abbot. Opposite them, Seamus Finnegan and Parvati Patil brought up the rear of this parade of sad schoolmates.

They stood in silence, all twelve of them, outwardly a mass of black cloaks, inwardly, obviously, a collage of red, green, blue and yellow. They may not have liked one another that much in past lives, but now they all shared something very important. They were all standing on home turf, remembering the lives they'd had before the war, before they had to begin life again, start over. No one moved for a moment, all of them remembering. Then Harry spoke.

"Hey Ron, remember the time we had a Gryffindor Christmas party in sixth year, and you got piss-ass drunk on eggnog and we had to carry you to the lake and throw you in?" Immediately they all started laughing, even Draco and Pansy, though they seemed a bit reluctant to show any mirth for the Gryffindors.

"Yeah, I almost got hypothermia!" Ron said through his laughter.

"Hey, hey d'you remember the time in fifth year when we wrote that 'Weasley Is Our King' song and I was practicing it with the gang. I was conducting them and I fell off the risers, then Baddock caught me on his broom? That was fun!" Pansy said, smiling at Draco, who laughed.

"That song was kind of catchy..." said Ron, half-grinning. "...I guess."

"Yeah, and remember the time we won the Quidditch Cup in fifth year?" Seamus thought aloud.

"Yeah, and remember the time Marietta told about the D.A. and she got all those hideous spots on her face?" Cho shrieked through her giggles. They all carried on that way for quite sometime, reminiscing about the fun they'd had during their stay at Hogwarts, until there was a particularly drawn out bout of silence. Then, something miraculous happened. Out of the wistful memories and gloom of remembering those who had died, Padma, Malcom, Lavendar, Crabbe, Goyle, Dean, Lee and Justin, rose a song.

Fred and George started singing.

"In the town where I was raised, the clock ticked and the cattle grazed, time passed with amazing grace, back where I come from..."

Ron joined them.

"You could lie on a river bank, paint your name on a water tank, miscount all the butterbeers you drank, back where I come from..."

Now all of them, even Draco and Pansy, gave way to the warming melody of the song.

"Back where I come from, it's where I'll be when it's said and done, I'm proud as anyone, that's where I come from..." And their song continued as they linked arms, uniting them all in memory of their pasts.

It began to snow.