Til The End

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`Til The End

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In the beginning of March, with the coming of spring and the period of rebirth, Hogwarts re-opened at last.

There were many changes. Minerva McGonagall now occupied the circular office, as the new Headmistress of the school. Replacing her as Head of Gryffindor House was Harry Potter, who had now permanently taken on the position of Flying Instructor. Teaching Transfiguration was Cho Chang, and still, the students in that class would sometimes find themselves supervised by an intelligent-looking cat perched on the teacher´s desk.

Slytherin House was another issue of concern. With the death of Severus Snape, the school lacked both a Potions Master and a Head of House. For the time being, Draco Malfoy stepped in to fill both the positions.

But the former Slytherin Seeker would not be there for long. His wife, her duties in the country now completely fulfilled, wanted to return to China to live. Draco had agreed, and after a long conversation with his wife and his mother, had decided to sell draughty, grandiose Malfoy Manor in favor of a small but elegant villa for summers, and using the rest of the funds gained from the sale of Malfoy Manor to purchase an estate in China. Not too surprisingly, there had been money left over, and with a minimal amount of prodding from his wife, that had been donated to charity to help the families of those that had been most severely affected by the war.

For now, Draco would take on the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House positions until the end of the term, and then, with his family (and little Jack, whom he had formally adopted), he would move to China with Jing-Li, to visit back once a year. After Draco had finished the term as temporary Hogwarts faculty, the positions would go to current Head Boy Anthony Weston.

Quidditch had been cancelled for the rest of the year. The pitch needed to be rebuilt, and, for many of the new staff at Hogwarts, there were too many horrific experiences on that field the day of the final battle for them to wish to be there for long periods of time.

The rest of the term passed in a slow, tentative manner... each day a bit more certain than the last. It was as if the world were a butterfly breaking out from a cocoon, or a snake sloughing off its old skin for a new one. Gradually, the shadows died away, and no one rushed the process. It would take time, but there would be restoration and healing.

Everyone had to make new plans. And in this, everyone was alike. And people had each other.

* * *

The shattered, broken pieces of Roger Davies´ world were slowly but surely falling into place once again.

The bittersweet morning that Cho had taken him out of his self-inflicted purgatory, he left the Leaky Cauldron and the countless bottles of Firewhiskey behind. He had not been able to go back to Hogwarts at the time. Not yet. And so it was, that although Cho had been offered the Transfiguration post, she opted to live at a small flat in Hogsmeade rather than the faculty wing at Hogwarts, until the next school year.

They had moved into the flat, and together, they had begun the healing process.

There were nights when he would wake up, bathed in cold sweat, with a scream on his lips and the image of Orla and his bloodstained hands burned into the back of his mind. But she would be right there next to him, with a cool cloth to press to his forehead and delicate, comforting hands to hold onto him. Similarly, there would be nights, though much less frequent, when she would sit up, tears rolling down her cheeks, the memory of a pale, tattered young woman being hit with the Cruciatus curse and then murdered before her very eyes ingrained into her brain. And he would fold her in his arms, and run his callused hands through her long, loose hair. They held each other, and lent their warmth to each other. And thus, both of them were able to recover over time.

They were not alone. They were not friendless. They were not unloved. This was the most important thing. This was what truly mattered.

When it was the end of the term at Hogwarts, the words and formalities were not truly necessary. Everything was in their hearts, and they knew how it was between the two of them. Nevertheless, he went to the jewelry store during the day, as she was away at Hogwarts, supervising Transfiguration NEWTs, and bought a ring. A diamond for strength and fire, and pearls for the tears of both joy and sorrow. He presented it to her that night, and she accepted with a smile, the graceful golden band a perfect fit around her slender finger. They would always have each other, and they knew it. This just made it official.

And after the 7^th years had left Hogwarts, after the term was over, and it was summertime again, they went on a very special trip together, and though it was still poignant, it was no longer painful.

* * *

They stopped by the newest grave first. It had a simple, gray block for a headstone, and on it, the words, "Orla Desdemona Quirke, Aged 18. Died in war, rest in peace." On the simple grave, Roger dropped a handful of freshly-cut blossoms, for her youth, and for friendship and innocence.

Cho waited patiently for him, letting him to lay the past behind, and let the dead ghosts go away by their own accord. When he stood and walked back to her, his face was calm, and she knew that he was now free from the misery that had haunted him.

Then, they went to an old and worn but not forgotten grave. There was a white cross, and the name carved on it was Cedric Diggory. Cho smiled somewhat nostalgically, and placed a spray of white lilies on the grave. Cedric... he had always wanted her to be happy. And she was. She hoped that he, too, was happy now.

She turned back to Roger, who was standing one step behind her, and took his hand. "I´m glad we came today," she said softly, "Together."

He nodded, "So am I. Charisse´s, then?"

She nodded, and they walked deeper and further into the cemetery. And they found that they were not alone.

* * *

As they had resumed Hogwarts, Anthony Weston finally told Una Markham the most painful thoughts that he carried in his head. The memories surrounding his sister´s death, and how that had occurred. They had been walking in Hogsmeade together, and he had recounted the horror to her, as they had stared up at the cloudless midnight sky. She had wept with him, and they had kissed each other´s tears away.

A few months later, after they´d left school, she had invited him to her home, to meet her parents. He had been nervous, of course. Whatever thousands of wonderful things Una was, he did not feel quite at home in her world. But her parents had been kind. Despite the lack of charms and spells going about their home like he would be used to, they had made him feel welcome with their kind, if somewhat garrulous nature. The Markham family, though certainly non-Magical, was fairly well-off, and by the end of the day, he had been armed with a veritable arsenal of Muggle paraphernalia to show Arthur the next time he saw him.

And then, Una had beckoned him to see `a surprise´, and he had followed her outside to a small greenhouse that they´d had on their estate. She led him past the bright, exotic orchids and bird-of-paradise flowers, past the tuberoses and calla lilies, and finally, they reached a sunny corner, and a familiar, heavenly scent hit his nostrils, and his eyes had widened.

There, looking somewhat out-of-place amongst the other, bigger, flashier specimens, was a single damask rosebush. A cloak of dark green leaves dotted with sweet, cream-colored flowers. She had smiled a somewhat shy, embarrassed smile, as he had stared, dumbfounded.

"I liked Charisse my first year," she had said softly, "And... you mentioned that she liked white damask roses. When mum asked what I wanted for my birthday this year, I told her to order that rosebush for her greenhouse. I planted it after we had gotten out of school, and it started blooming two days ago. I thought you might want them for her grave."

And he realized once again, the thousand reasons that he loved her.

And so, the next weekend, holding a bouquet of the roses, they Apparated to the graveyard, to pay respects to the girl who had died years ago, so that they and countless others like them could have their lives today.

Una had seen the others first. "Cho!"

Cho had looked up from where she had set a small bunch of lilies-of-the-valley at the foot of the marble statue that marked Charisse´s grave, and had seen the younger Ravenclaw girl, hand-in-hand with Anthony Weston, approaching.

"Hello, Una, Anthony," Cho greeted both of them with a small smile. Una had smiled chummily back at her, and Anthony, somewhat less at ease around her than his girlfriend, had nodded quietly.

"Hello, Professor... Belladonna," he had addressed her, and grinned somewhat. Cho had grinned back, and informed him that he should call her by her given name. They were to be colleagues the next term, and they were no longer Quidditch rivals or anything else of the sort.

Neither Una nor Anthony had met Roger before, and after introductions had taken place, Anthony had knelt to place the roses at the foot of the now-eroded, gentler-looking marble girl. And something slightly tarnished with time but still bright had sparkled up at him from the grass by the foot of the grave.

A curious look in his blue eyes, he picked it up. A small badge, silver, engraved with the words "Head Girl", dated the year that he had started Hogwarts. Charisse´s Head Girl badge. And it had been there for quite a while, from the looks of it.

"How´d this get here?" Anthony asked, his voice full of wonder, and not really expecting an answer.

But he got one. A slight, bittersweet smile on her pretty face, Cho spoke softly, "It was put there by..." she paused, unsure of how exactly to describe the baffling enigma of a man who had placed it there as a final gesture of regard and admiration, "Someone who had respected and esteemed your sister when she was alive. A... friend-of-sorts, I guess."

Anthony turned to her, a strange, pensive look on his face, "Must have been, I suppose. My sister didn´t have many friends, though."

Cho nodded, "But more people cared about her, I think, than she realized," she said quietly. "Charisse was a great lady... to the very end."

Then, she smiled at Anthony. The boy she´d met when he was just starting out at Hogwarts was now a young man; she had to look up to him, and he had changed.

"Your sister is watching you from Heaven, Anthony. And she is proud of you."

He smiled back at her, and at that moment, he believed it.

* * *

That meeting had turned to lunch together, and a talk for several hours afterwards. Una, ever the observant one, had noticed the ring on Cho´s finger, and had congratulated her former Quidditch captain and the former captain of her former captain. Cho and Roger had thanked her, and after exchanging a glance, the former invited the younger couple to participate in their wedding as maid of honor and best man. Una and Anthony had accepted, and later on, everyone went home, quite gratified indeed that they´d decided to make their excursions that day.

And after that day, the nightmares ceased to haunt them.

* * *

And that August, before Jing-Li and Draco left for China, before the new term at Hogwarts began, Roger Davies and Cho Chang wed in a quiet ceremony. There were no people there except their family, the Hogwarts staff, and a small group of friends.

The wedding was simple. The bride and groom did not feel the need for an extravagant, elaborate ceremony. After they had gone through so much, both apart and together, after the long, rugged paths that they had tread, frills and furbelows seemed rather... superfluous.

But if the wedding was simple in nature, it was eloquent in meaning. They had always been there for each other. As friends in school, teammates and housemates. Then, after they had both grown up and left the simplistic, utopist world of childhood behind them, though they had their own lives, and had been occupied with the multitude of difficulties that each had had to face, they had also been there for each other. Apart physically, but spiritually together. Through it all, they had both been aware, more or less, that there existed another who understood.

And Roger, as he watched his bride walk up the simple, short aisle towards him, her beautiful face beaming with love behind the misty veil, smiled. It was enough.

* * *

Harry watched her soaring lazily through the air, a splash of golden hair and white robes against the tile-blue sky. Ephemeral as a wisp of sunlit cloud, and yet eternal. Looking at bright light directly was bad, this he knew, but he found that he could not tear his eyes away.

There had to be something about women flying....he remembered his first crush...Cho Chang, that pretty Ravenclaw seeker with the big brown eyes and the sweet smile. He recalled the wistful dreams of his youth...spent wishing for the dark-haired girl's affection. Had he been his younger self, he would likely have been devastated yesterday at the wedding, watching Cho Chang, a resplendent bride with love-light gleaming in her eyes, walk down the aisle towards another man and promise to love him forever. But as it was, he felt nothing but benevolent friendship for Cho, and when he shook Roger Davies' hand and gave him and his bride all the best wishes, he felt no envy, no pain. No...no longer were his dreams filled with dark, dancing almond-shaped eyes and dimples on dusky golden skin. Now...his dreams...

Harry Potter shook himself. Yes, he freely admitted that part of the reason why he could feel no sense of loss at Cho's marriage to Roger was because of the golden angel flying overhead. She was his angel, though she often joked that HE had been the one to come from up high and save her life. And she was all that an angel should be: wise beyond her years, selfless, beautiful...so heartbreakingly beautiful. And of course, several things that angels perhaps were not, but made it all the more engaging: feisty, spirited, stubborn, childlike and mature by turns. But she was so young...so very, very young. In her last year at school, not yet licensed to Apparate, fresh and youthful as a cherry tree in spring blossom. And he...he was scarred, toughened...he shouldn't even be thinking of her that way.

A breeze by his side caused him to turn slightly. She had descended from the heights, and now glided slowly to his side, hovering barely a foot above the ground.

"'Arry, do you want to fly wis me?"

He blinked. She smiled wryly, and pointed a teak wand at the broom shed. "Accio Firebolt!"

His faithful broom came zooming through the air and straight into his hands. He caught it, then looked unsure of what to do with it.

She lowered and dismounted, to stand in front of him. Deep blue eyes gazed into green ones for a few long moments, then she put two white hands on his shoulders and said to him softly, "You will nevair know ze beauty of 'eaven eef you are afraid of falling, mon cher."

Saying so, she brushed a gentle kiss on his lips before taking off again, becoming smaller and smaller as she flew upward. And a moment later, a figure in red, a shock of black hair like a raven taking flight, followed the ascent. He would have his little bit of heaven, after all.

All of them would. To each, his own. Things were all right now.

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YAY!! It´s done!! Epilogue coming soon, and then, that´s it folks! The saga endeth! Are you sad to see it go?