Aftermath

Harry just held Hermione in his arms for the longest time. He couldn't let go, he wouldn't let go...ever. Tears silently streamed down his already soaked face and he wondered if someone could ever run out. He seemed to have shed them quite a bit in these last few years, but it would now all stop. Voldemort was gone, the world was safe once again.

The air around the Ministry was cold, freezing even. The sky above was painted with light gray clouds. It was Christmas day. Harry had just realized it. The irony of it all was absolutely sickening. Long ago, it was the day a savior was born. Today, it was the day a savior triumphed. Harry continued to hold Hermione in his arms, afraid that he would lose her if he ever let go again. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and lay there contentedly. His hot breath was pouring onto her face in staggered breaths. Occasionally a tear would fall from his face onto hers, mingling and mixing with her own. She was crying silently as well. She didn't know why, she should be so happy that Harry was safe and Voldermort was gone, but here she was, crying in the arms of the man she loved. After about ten minutes, Hermione found her voice.

"Harry?" she whispered. His tears had slowed, but he was still breathing slow, ragged breaths. He nodded in acknowledgement of her voice.

"Harry, it's all right. I'm here, we're here, he's gone Harry, he's gone," she said. Harry's tears subdued a bit and he found his voice.

"I know, I know, I just don't want to wake up," he said thickly. She gave him a puzzled look.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

"What if this is all a dream?" he asked through his tears. "What if this is just some sick joke that whatever God there is in heaven is playing on me? What if I wake up on this street and you're dead, and Voldermort's dead, and Ron's dead, and...and..." he couldn't finished. More tears silently spilled down his cheeks. Hermione moved her finger up to his cheek to brush them away and smiled weakly at him, peering into his puffy red eyes.

"Kiss me," she said softly. Harry gulped and spoke again.

"What if I wake up?" he whispered back.

"It'll be worth it," she said. And with that, Harry's lips met hers in a moment of passion. His tongue softly caressed hers as it swam throughout her mouth. Harry tightened his grip, as did Hermione. The broke apart and Harry peered into her amazing brown eyes, the eyes he once thought forever lifeless.

"This isn't a dream," he breathed in wonder.

"How do you know?" she asked back.

"Because I've never had a dream that felt like that," he said. She smiled and blushed ever so slightly, feeling a bit foolish under the current circumstances.

"Once a charmer, always a charmer," she whispered. Harry smiled the first real smile in so long it almost hurt. After what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally got up and looked around wondering what to do next. Then it hit Harry like a ton of bricks.

"Dumbeldore!" he said frantically. His eyes grew wide with Hermione's as they rushed into the alley that Dumbledore was thrown into. There was a pile of rocks and a pale, wrinkled hand turned upwards lay out of the pile. Hermione did a few levitating spells and tossed the rocks off the top of the old man's body. His body lay sprawled out into an X. His glasses were cracked and he was sporting several bruises across his face. His purple robes were torn and his skin appeared very pale. The eyes that Harry had seen twinkle so many times were closed, either in sleep or in...Harry didn't want to think about what.

Harry kneeled down at the old man's side and hesitantly, as if afraid of what he'd feel, placed his hand on Dumbledore's neck. Harry went cold. There didn't appear to be a pulse. Seeing his frantic expression, Hermione leaned down next to him and did the same thing. Her face went even more pale than Harry's.

"No, no, no!" mumbled Harry frantically. "Accio!" he mumbled for his wand, and it shot into his hand. He pointed it at Dumbledore's chest.

"Enervate," he said loudly and clearly. No, this couldn't be happening. "Enervate," he said even louder, despite the fact that if it didn't work once, it wouldn't work twice. Harry was in a panic.

"Enervate, enervate, enervate," he shouted frantically. He shouted it at least four more times until Hermione pulled him back and tackled him onto the ground. Harry continued to shout the incantation despite the fact that he no longer had his wand and that Hermione was holding him down. He wouldn't let Dumbledore go, he couldn't. Harry was blinded by his grief that it took him several seconds to hear what Hermione was saying and stop resisting.

"No, Harry! Don't! Stop! Harry! He's gone! Harry, he's gone!" she shouted through tears. It hit Harry like a ton of bricks. It was impossible, not Dumbledore, no, God no. The only thing close to a parent Harry had ever had besides Sirius (who had already left him) was gone. Not him, please.... Harry felt his own tears welling up in his eyelids until he heard an all too familiar voice.

"Who's gone?" asked a raspy whisper from behind the two. Both Harry and Hermione went white for the second time in five minutes. Hermione still had her hands pinning Harry down, but that was only because she was too shocked to move. Harry heard rock crumbling and moving behind Hermione. The sound of dust being brushed off robes then sounded. Slowly, ever so slowly, Hermione removed her hands from Harry's shoulders and turned around to see Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster, standing with a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eye that Harry had grown to love so much.

Harry sat up and stared in amazement at Dumbledore. For the second time inside two hours, a person he had loved had come back to life. Dumbledore reached out a hand, which Harry noted was incredibly warm, and helped Harry to his feet. Harry stood eye level with the smiling Dumbledore and felt his jaw hanging wide open. After what seemed like forever, Harry suddenly and violently hugged Dumbledore around his waist. Dumbledore's face lit up in surprise as he hesitantly patted Harry on his back.

"Oh, dear boy, I believe that you shall strangle me," he said jovially. Harry pulled away reluctantly and appeared to be wiping a few stray tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry Professor, it's just--we thought you were--well, you know..." Harry's voice trailed off. Dumbledore's smile faded slightly and a look of both comprehension and wisdom shone on his face.

"Ah, yes, am I correct in presuming you tried to revive me?" he asked softly. Harry and Hermione nodded slowly. Dumbledore chuckled and looked down at his feet, then returning his gaze to Harry and Hermione for an explanation.

"Yes, a bit of old magic that was. You see, when Grindewald was raising up followers and waging war earlier in the century, he would often stun his enemy, take them to a secret location, and proceed to torture information from them," said Dumbledore. Harry and Hermione winced slightly at the thought of Dumbledore being tortured, but he continued.

"And so, in fear of this, I placed a charm on myself that rendered the revival spell inoperable upon my body. The enemy would presume me dead and toss me aside," he said lightly. "I never around to removing the charm, I do hope you forgive me if I've startled you," he added a bit more gravely. Harry and Hermione nodded furtively.

"Quite all right, Professor," said Harry with a laugh of relief. Dumbledore smiled at the two of them and then his eyes turned to the street at which the battle had just ended. His brow furrowed and his smile disappeared as he approached the streets. Harry and Hermione followed him into the eerily deserted street.

Dumbledore walked with a quickened pace around the battlefield, his eyes laced with fury the entire time. Harry had never seen him so angry in his life, the emotion just radiated from his body. After several minutes of this pace around the place of bloodshed, Dumbledore approached Harry and Hermione. His eyes softened and appeared almost regretful.

"Mad-Eye, Tonks, Snape, among others...all dead," he said grimly. There was a note of sorrow in the old man's voice that made Harry want to bring back all of them just to see Dumbledore happy. His eyes appeared mournful and his posture was that of a very devastated man. For the longest time, Dumbledore just stood and stared off into space, the worry and grief just shining in his eyes. Harry stared at him intently, a look of extreme concern on his face.

This old man had seen too many battles, to much devastation, to many lives emptied and too many graves filled. He had seen too much.

"I'm sorry, Professor," muttered Hermione softly behind Harry. Dumbledore's eyes did not meet Hermione's, but he spoke all the same. A note of extreme remorse reigned throughout the old man's voice.

"Feel not sorry, young Hermione, for myself. I am an old man and have been fortunate enough that I have only seen terror such as this later in my life. But you two," he said, his eyes now focusing on Harry and Hermione, "have had to endure the terror that this war as brought us at too young of an age. It is indeed an awful site when our youth must see the terror that wars like these can bring. I am sorry Hermione." He finished with a note of sincerity and grief in his voice that made Harry's heart feel like it had an iron wrench around it.

"Where was he destroyed?" Dumbledore asked Harry softly. Harry pointed to the opposite side of the street where Voldemort's only remains, a pile of ashes and a smoldered mark on the sidewalk, remained. Dumbledore walked slowly and purposely over toward Voldemort's remains, Harry and Hermione, once again, behind him. Dumbledore stopped at the remnants of what was left of Voldemort, staring with a malicious glint in his eyes.

"Good bye, Tom," he said firmly, "May the shadow of your terror never be felt nor seen upon this Earth again." With that, Dumbledore turned to the battle field with a weary yet determined look plastered upon his face.

"Well, I suppose we had better call the forces from behind the line," he sad quietly. Dumbledore had pulled out his wand and prepared to apparate until Harry had stopped him.

"Professor, sir, wait!" he said suddenly. Dumbledore looked to him and smiled.

"I shall be back soon, Harry, don't worry," he said softly. Harry smiled and shook his head.

"No, Professor, exactly what happened here? I mean, I know it had to be a spell out of love that killed Voldemort, but Hermione...." Harry's voice trailed off at his last words. A curtain of thoughtfulness swept over Dumbledore's face as.

"We shall talk when I return," he said smiling reassuringly. With that, Dumbledore disappeared with a loud pop. Harry and Hermione were left there to stare at the scene of horror before them. The smell of decay and death lingered in the air as the bodies lay sprawled on the street at different angles. Some had their eyes open in horror, others had their own closed and appeared to be sleeping. Harry unconsciously found Hermnione's hand and began to walk through space between the bodies.

So many people gone, so many good people, too many good people. Dead, forever. Harry walked past Mad-Eye and Tonks, waves of memories flooding into his mind. How could they be gone? So quickly, they left him just like that. They'd never come back, ever. Harry's jade eyes darkened with sadness as he thought about this. Hermione's hand tightened on his own as they passed the two fallen members of the order. She looked into his eyes with pity and hurt. Harry simply nodded and the two of them moved on. Harry and Hermione just walked through the street for what seemed like hours, staring at all of the death that had been the result of such malice and hate. Such a shame, so many dead. And then, the two of them came upon Percy Weasley. There he was, his eyes closed, appearing to be sleeping. His face had an unusual amount of color on it and his arms lay sprawled to his sides. He had a trail of blood leading from his ear and a large, sickeningly red bruise in his rib cage. Mrs. Weasley had one less son.

Harry could hardly bear the thought of going to Mrs. Weasley and telling her one of her own wouldn't be coming home. She loved her children so much, this would kill her. Harry remembered his fifth year when she attempted to get rid of the boggart and it had shown different members of her family, plus Harry and Hermione, dead. Harry's heart fell so much he thought it might drop into his feet. Such a shame.

Harry knelt down and brushed the young man's cheek. Hermione knelt down beside him and rested her hands on his shoulders for comfort. Wiping away several spots of dirt and blood. For the third time inside at least two and a half hours, Harry went pale white.

Percy had just inhaled a breath as if he hadn't breathed correctly in years. Harry's heart might have well stopped, for he was as pale as the bodies that surrounded him. Hermione appeared to be holding her breath and her hands clutched over Harry's shoulders painfully, but he was in too much shock to notice. Percy opened one eye blearily and blinked several times, looking up towards Harry. He attempted to bring his arms in, but winced in pain and decided to leave them where they lay. He looked to Harry and Hermione. Percy had a look of such pain and weariness in his eyes, Harry wanted to die on the spot. Tears welled up in the corners of Harry's eyes as he looked at Percy. Will I ever run out of these damned things? Harry thought to himself.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione. Good to see you both," he said hoarsely with the ghost of a smile floating across his face. Harry was so choked up, if he spoke he was sure the tears would run freely from his eyes. Percy was a gentlemen and acted proper, even on the verge of death. Hermione spoke for Harry, her voice higher and more strained than usual.

"Yea, same here Perc," said Hermione. His smile widened at the two of them and he continued to speak.

"I hope you two are well?" he asked with a note of distant politeness. Harry smiled and felt a tear fall from his eyes to the cold, dark pavement.

"We're--" Harry had to stop himself to keep from breaking down.

"We're excellent, Percy. You?" he whispered in a strained voice to Percy. Percy chuckled slightly.

"I've been better," he croaked out. A note of concern swept over his face and he looked to Harry and Hermione seriously.

"Is he--" but he couldn't get the question out because Harry knew it even before he spoke.

"He's gone, Perc," said Harry firmly. Percy relaxed and his smile returned.

"Oh, good. That dirty, filthy rotten bugger. With all he's done, caused a right bit of hell at the ministry. Mr. Fudge was absolutely sick with worry when all the evidence pointed to him showing up here, he had me doing a lot of the coordination of our men's positions in the streets." Percy spoke hoarsely with that amount of dignity that Harry loved and hated about him. It was so beautifully sad. Percy was still his same old self, even an inch from death, and Harry loved him for it.

Harry's eyes threatened to explode with tears as Percy spoke, he never abandoned his ambitious and proud attitude. Voldemort had ruined the life of a perfectly happy man that lay an inch from death before Harry. Percy loved his job, loved his wife, loved his rigid guidance of rules, loved the certainties in life. He might now have all of that robbed from him, laying an inch from death here on the cold streets of London.

"...glad he's gone, things will be much easier at the Ministry. Mr. Fudge will take a long deserved break," finished Percy wearily, but with a determined smile on his face. Harry and Hermione just smiled through tears at Percy as he lay there. There was silence for a long while until Percy spoke.

"I'm glad he's gone, Harry," said Percy sincerely. Harry nodded, it was all he could manage.

"We are too," said Hermione in that high-pitched voice Harry hated to hear from her. She clamped her hand tighter on Harry's shoulder and the three of them just looked at each other for minutes on end. There mindless staring was interrupted when a series of 'pops' sounded all around them. Harry and Hermione's heads shot up. At least a hundred wizards had to apparate onto the spot, maybe more. They all looked around in horror, some shouting it terror, others crying, others just staring at the terror that had been wrought. Harry stood up, and slowly everyone's head turned towards him. An eerie silence lurked over the place. Sure, the battleground had been creepy before, but now everyone's eyes were focused on Harry, who could only manage two words.

"He's gone," Harry whispered. But the whisper appeared to echo throughout the street, off the buildings, and even up to the cloud covered sky. For what seemed like hours everyone's eyes just fixed on Harry with a look of marvel. Then the street broke into an explosion of applause and cheers, people swarming to Harry patting him on the back and thanking him. Harry offered weak smiles to all of them. It was bittersweet. As the cheerers around him swarmed off to search the battlefield, Harry heard several familiar voices coming toward him.

"Harry, Harry!" came the voice of George Weasley. Holy Shit, thought Harry. The twins, Ron, Bill, and Charlie were rushing towards Harry.

"Harry, Harry, you beat him! I can't believe you beat him! He's gone Harry, he's really--" Ron began to cheer on Harry until he noticed his brother lying on the ground, inches from death. Fred and George were already leaning down at his side, checking his pulse and such. Ron and Bill were staring down at him in disbelief and Charlie had just knelt down with Fred and George.

"What happened?" asked the frantic voice of Fred.

"Is he alive?" asked George. Harry looked down at them with an appearance of utter sadness and shame.

"He's alive," Harry squeaked out, "but just barely."

"How did it happen?" asked Bill. Harry shook his head.

"We thought he d-died in the beginning, Bellatrix had gotten him," said Harry in a quavering voice, "After I-I finished off Voldemort," it was becoming harder and harder to speak, "we went and walked amongst the bodies and we f-found him. He just sort of sprung to life and has b-been in and out since we found him," Harry finished croakily. The five brothers looked down upon the now unconscious Percy with looks of such sadness in their eyes, it made Harry want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"We should get him back into camp," whispered Charlie. The rest of them nodded as Charlie held Percy in his arms and apparated back to camp. Fred and George were gone in the blink of an eye. Ron clasped his hand over Harry's shoulder and look determinedly into his eyes.

"This was not your fault," he said firmly, "do you hear me? It wasn't your fault," he added, practically shouting through his tears. Harry simply nodded and Ron was gone with a soft 'pop.' Harry and Hermione were left, their hands clasped together with looks of despair in their eyes. Harry turned to look and saw Hermione with a few tears streaming down her face. He pulled her closer as she looked down nervously, almost with shame. Harry lifted her chin up and looked into her deep, chocolate eyes. In and instant, he claimed her mouth in a kiss. It was short, but sweet and refreshing, and it seemed to give him newfound strength.

They apparated back to the camp set up just outside of London and found the medi-tents. He was ready to walk into one when Hermione tugged at his sleeve to hold him back. She pointed to her left where the five Weasley brothers and Mr. Weasley sat surrounding Percy. Harry felt a lead weight fall on his heart. He heard the voice of a stranger, probably a medi-wizard or Healer, talking to the Weasley's.

"...sorry to say he probably won't make it. This was one of Bellatrix's homemade curses, we've seen it a lot in these past months, but can't find the countercurse. It slowly but surely renders the recipient's heart inoperable. By the looks of it, this one's been on him a few hours, three maybe. He'll have another half hour if he's lucky. I'm truly sorry," came the husky voice of the medi-wizard/healer. He left the Weasley family without a backward glance, giving them their last moments with their dying son.

Harry looked upon the Weasley men, who would soon be the Weasley men minus one. Each and everyone of their eyes shone with tears and sorrow. Then Percy stirred, for perhaps the last time.

His eyes opened blearily and he peered around at his family, for the last time. All of them had forced smiles on their faces.

"He-hey, Percy," came Ron's strained voice. Percy's head turned to look at Ron.

"Oh, hello Ron," whispered Percy cheerily. His head continued to swivel around to look at his family members.

"P-Percy you stupid git, stop it will you?" came the half-hearted cheery voice of Fred. Percy turned to look at Fred with a stupid smile on his face.

"I'm not a git, Fred," he began in his familiar dignant voice, "Mr. Fudge happens to think very highly of me," he finished. George chuckled softly.

"Once a bighead boy, always a bighead boy," he said with a smile that quickly evaporated. Percy's stupid smile was replaced by a look of seriousness as he spoke to Fred and George.

"You two are incredible, you know," he began dreamily. Both Fred and George were on the verge of tears. "Your joke shop is really brilliant, the things you come up with, it's a wonder you only got three OWL's. Don't ever stop being funny," he finished.

"Aw, come on, Percy. It's not all that brilliant. And there are things more important than OWL's, you know," said George in an unusually high voice. Percy chuckled.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you," whispered Ron, a lone tear falling down his face. Percy turned to look at Ron and put a sincere look on his face.

"Ron, you know when we always bickered, I never meant anything I said, I really love you," he said softly. "You know that right?" Ron simply nodded, unable to speak

"You just go and find a nice girl, Ron, who can control that temper of yours and you'll be fine."

Once again, Ron simply nodded and put his head in his hands. Those would be the last words Percy ever spoke to Ron. Percy looked at his father.

"And Father, you know I never meant what I said two years ago, I never meant it," he said with and urgency. Mr. Weasley smiled.

"I-I know Perc," he whispered.

"I didn't, you've always been amazing Dad, always. I'd rather be your son than some ministry puppet," he added softly. Mr. Weasley just half-heartedly smiled and nodded.

"And Bill and Charlie, you guys," his breath was getting shorter and shorter, "you guys were the best older brothers a guy could ask for," he said between staggered breathes. He's eyes were closing now.

"And Dad?" he said distantly.

"Yea, Perc?" said Mr. Weasley softly.

"Do me a favor and tell Ginny to shoot for the moon. And tell," he seemed to be losing consciousness, "tell mom I'll take care and keep warm, I'm sure they feed you well up there," he said shakily, "in heaven, that is. I'll..." his eyes were shut, "I'll see you all..." and with that, he was gone. And he wasn't coming back. Harry's tears weren't going to bring him back. Dumbledore's charms weren't going to bring him back. Nothing was, he was gone. He wasn't coming back.

Harry stood there in disbelief: he was gone. And slowly, each Weasley man filed out, a look of pain in their eyes and a slump in their shoulders. Harry merely stood there, still in shock, staring at the lifeless body of Percy Weasley.

Harry felt a shot of warmth spread through his body and turned to see Hermione holding his hand. She offered a weak smile and he did the same back.

"What tent are Molly and Ginny in?" he asked softly.

"Medi-Tent three, just down the left there," she whispered back. Harry nodded, knowing what he would have to do. He kissed Hermione softly and exited, making his way down the line of tents. Molly and Ginny had wanted to help out with the battle, and being that Mr. Weasley forbid them in battle, they helped with the healers and medi-wizards. Harry spotted Mr. Weasley about to enter tent three and hurried behind him. Harry waited at the entrance of the tent while Arthur delivered the news.

"Molly, you might want to have a seat," he said with a certain flatness in his voice.

"What's wrong Arthur," she said as she sat down. She had a concerned look on her face as her eyes bore into Mr. Weasley.

"It's Percy," began Mr. Weasley in an unusually high pitched tone, "he was fighting and Bellatrix hit him and..." he could hardly finish.

"And what, Arthur," Mrs. Wealsey asked breathlessly.

"He's gone," whispered. Those were the two most awful words that Molly Weasley had never wanted to hear about any of her sons, and she had just heard them. Her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with a hand, unable to believe what she had just heard.

"Nooooo, noooo, not Percy!" she shouted with her muffled mouth. Arthur leant over to comfort her and hug her. Just then a blur of red hair and tears whizzed past Harry, nearly knocking him over. Harry heard Mr. Weasley comforting Molly as he turned around to see Ginny rushing off to the east of camp. He rushed after her as she sprinted to an empty field, plopping down at the top of the hill. Harry was about twenty or thirty yards behind her, and slowed to a walk. He could hear her sobs echoing throughout the place.

Harry finally reached the top of the hill and sat down beside Ginny, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Her cries became louder and louder as she laid her head down on his shoulder. Harry just sat and held her, whispering comforting words into her ear. The whole while, a painful, guilty feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Harry couldn't help but think if it hadn't been for him, Percy might be alive and Ginny might not be crying.

When her tears finally subsided and her breath stopped coming in ragged gasps, she lifted her head and wiped the remnants of the tears she had shed from her cheeks. After a moment, she finally spoke.

"How did he die?" she asked through a congested nose. Harry had trouble finding his voice, but spoke anyway.

"One of Bellatrix's curses hit him. It was a curse that slowly stopped his heart, but he brought her down with him, he died like a warrior," whispered Harry.

"He shouldn't have died at all," said Ginny angrily.

"I know Ginny, I know," said Harry softly. For several minutes, the two of them simply sat there, staring at the clouds on the horizon.

"He got to say his good-byes though," said Harry suddenly. Ginny's head shot up and her eyes locked with his.

"Did he mention me?" she whispered urgently. Harry nodded.

"Shoot for the moon," Harry whispered. Ginny's face turned back to the horizon.

"If I miss, at least I'll land among the stars," she said distantly, more to herself than anyone else.

"Hmm?" Harry inquired.

"It's a silly muggle saying Percy and I used to say to each other to keep ourselves motivated for one thing or another, just something special we had," she said quietly. And so Harry and Ginny sat in silence for the next few moments until something peculiar happened. It began to snow.

It wasn't a blizzard, but it wasn't just flurries. It was a pleasant kind of snow, a calm snow, snow you might see in a Robert Frost poem. Harry looked up into the clouds as the snow decorated the landscape. It was a peaceful snow, a reassuring snow. A gorgeous snow. A kind of snow that said everything was going to be alright. A laugh from Harry's side brought him out of his daze.

"What? What's funny?" inquired Harry. Ginny smiled and laughed again.

"Percy always loved snow," she said softly. "I bet he's doing this, he absolutely loved it," she added cheerfully. Harry smiled.

"Come on, Gin, we should get back," he said softly.

"Yes, yes, your right," she said in a daze. Harry helped her up and walked back to the camp. The mood seemed much lighter. Whether it was the constant cheers Harry got from his surroundings, the pats on the back, the praise Potter chants, or just the snow, Harry would never know. With so much despair and death, people actually had smiles on their faces. They were embracing Harry as a savior, a hero. Then Harry remembered.

It was Christmas.

Harry and Ginny walked into the Weasley tent to find a shocking scene. Fred and George were engaged in a game of chess while Ron watched. Hermione sat absentmindedly staring out a window with a charms book open idle in her lap. Bill and Charlie were engaging in Quidditch debate and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were fixing dinner. Harry looked around his eyes wide, his minded shocked, and mouth open agape at the scene before him. He looked down towards Ginny, expecting for her to have the same puzzled expression as him, but she was smiling ear to ear, her eyes filled with delight just like all the rest of them.

Harry walked over to where Hermione was sitting and absentmindedly sat down, still staring at the scene before him.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously. He was still examining the situation in the room. Surely they would crack at any moment. The third eldest brother of the Weasley clan had just died, shouldn't there be...well...mourning?

Hermione smiled a knowing smile at him, a true smile.

"Percy always loved the snow," she said simply. Harry looked back at her his eyes still in shock and gave a shaky laugh.

"Yea, so I hear," said Harry smiling. With that the two of them burst into a fit of giggles. They just went on laughing for now reason for a good five minutes. It was insane. One of the people Harry loved most had just died, and he was laughing. He understood.

When their laughs had finally died down, Mrs. Weasley came in from the kitchen. Her eyes found Harry and a look of relief swam over her.

"Oh, Harry dear, thank God you're all right!" she cooed at him, immediately sweeping to his side and embracing him in a motherly hug. Harry could be rest assured that now Mrs. Weasley had lost one of her sons, she would certainly embrace Harry even more so as her own. Harry returned the hug, a bit hesitantly, but understood: she hadn't seen Harry since he left for battle. He smiled and embraced her.

"Really Molly, I'm fine," he assured her in as steady a voice he could find. He heard her sniffle and grasp him tighter.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry," she said through threatening tears, "I was so worried when you went off like that, scared to death I'd never see you, I was," she continued. Harry sighed: he supposed this was normal. "You beat him, at last. I knew you could," she finished. Harry smiled. He was glad to know that she loved him so much.

"T-thanks, Molly," he stuttered with the weight of his emotions. She gave him a love tap and dabbed her eyes as she drew back.

"How many times have I told yourself and Hermione: call me mum," she said with a slight smile. Harry shot a grin across his face.

"Okay mum," he said jovially. She smiled and stared down at him with eyes full of love and care. Harry assumed this was the kind of look every mother gave her son, the kind of look his mother must have given him when he was a child. Tears threatened again but Arthur burst into the room, turkey in his hands.

"Dinner everyone!" he said happily. Eagerly, the eight of them rushed to the dinner table and feasted. It was a wonderful dinner.

Later that night, Harry and Ron were tucking in for sleep. Harry chuckled to himself. It seemed sickeningly ironic he had just enjoyed a perfect dinner on the day the Dark Lord was vanquished, one of his closest friends had died, and now he was doing something as normal as tucking himself into bed. He smiled to himself, but then that familiar guilty feeling floating into his stomach as he turned to say goodnight to Ron. He felt he should say something.

"Ron I--" but apparently Ron knew it was coming and put a hand up to silence Harry him as put down the book he was reading. Harry closed his mouth as Ron spoke, staring intently into Harry's eyes.

"I told you before Harry, don't blame yourself...at all. If I ever even sense that you posses one ounce of guilt for what happened today, I'll knock it out of you," he said, adding the last bit with a crooked smile. He grew more serious thereafter. "Honestly, I'm fine, Ginny's fine, we're all fine about it. We knew the consequences of what could happen and we were ready to face them, no matter what. Now sure, there was gonna be some grieving but," Ron's eyes had an excited light to them, "I mean, when it snowed today, it was like...it was like Percy was assuring us it was okay, and that he was happy. We all realized it, and knew we could move on. He's alright," Ron finished.

By the time Ron was done, Harry had his emerald eyes intently fixed upon Ron's ice blue ones. He nodded and fought back the tears threatening again.

"'Night Ron," he croaked.

"'Night, Potter," Ron sighed jokingly. Harry smiled.

It wasn't until much later he awoke. Hermione was shaking him awake at his side; her eyes alight with an eagerness that told Harry she had discovered something amazing. He blearily opened his eyes to her gorgeous smiling face and couldn't help but smile himself.

"'Sup gorgeous?" he slurred playfully. Her smile widened at this.

"Even a charmer when you're half awake," she said blushing.

"Yes, well it's lovely when one awakens to the angel that's been running through his dreams all night," he said with a crooked grin. Her face softened considerably at his amazing charm.

"Harry, you are the sweetest boy I have ever met," she said smiling even wider and leaning in to kiss him. He returned the kiss, tasting the sweetness of Hermione's lips. She pulled away and her eyes were alight again with the thrill of discovery.

"But get dressed, Mr. Charmer. I've found something!" she said as she sprung up and ran to her and Ginny's room. Harry tried to hiss her questions as she ran, but she didn't stop. Harry sighed and pull on his trousers, a pair of snow pants (Knowing the snow had to have piled up considerably by now), a sweater, and a coat.

He hurried out the door to have Hermione waiting there eagerly for him.

"Come on!" she whispered grabbing his hand and dragging through the line of tents. Harry tried to question where they were going but she merely plowed on forward through the foot of moonlight glistening snow. It was gorgeous. She dragged him to the hill Harry recognized as the one Ginny had cried on earlier. She pulled him to the top and pointed to the sky.

"Look!" she said excitedly. Harry looked skyward and saw a truly amazing sight. It was the aurora borealis. But what made it really fantastical was that it was the usual blue-green and purple, but an amazing brilliant red. A tear fell down Harry's cheek as he witnessed the amazing scene. Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder as he gazed at the Northern Lights. She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas," she said, breaking him from his thoughts. His eyes shot down and locked with hers. He brought his lips to hers and claimed her mouth in a fervent kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue, feeling warmth spread to every inch of his body.

"Merry Christmas," he said back. They stood there, snogging into the night. It truly was an amazing Christmas.