Title: Flying Home
Summary: A short fiction based around the song 'Flying Home' by Chantel Kreviazuk.
Authors Notes: This is pretty much a song fic, but not in the usual style of song fic. You see, I find it hard to put the bits of the song in throughout a fic, so I generally just post the lyrics at the very beginning. I hope you enjoy!!!
~*~
It's hard to let you go
You've always let me in
And helped with all the endings
And you know where to begin
I need you here for me
Cause you always know my heart
I can't believe we'd change
Or have to be apart
But if you've seen the love that's in her eyes
Then everything is good
And if you know the way she felt inside
She's flying where she should
I never believed we'd ever live to see
An angel being born
And flying home
Its good to know your laugh
And you'll always hold my hand
And watch from up in heaven
And always understand
We'll take you down the road
And in everything we do
We'll know how much you love us
A soul that's kind and true.
And if you've seen the love that's in her eyes
Then everything is good
And if you know the way she felt inside
She's flying where she should
I never believed we'd ever live to see
An angel being born
And flying home
And if you've seen the love that's in her eyes
Then everything is good
And if you know the way she felt inside
She's flying where she should
I never believed we'd ever live to see
An angel being born
And flying home
Flying Home: Chantal Kreviazuk
It was a beautiful spring day. If there really was someone controlling the weather, Harry had to hand it to them- they had created the perfect day, even if the circumstances weren't perfect. The creeping plant around the balcony, the one he had never bothered to learn the name of, was in full bloom, sending a heavenly scent into the bedroom on the spring breeze.
It smelt like her. The entire room was filled with her scent, making Harry feel closer to her than he had since the accident. The last week had flown by in such a blur that he still felt he had to pinch himself to see that he wasn't dreaming. It was too hard to believe that today he would be burying the love of his life…
'Harry?'
Harry shook his head clear of his thoughts and looked up at Ron, his first ever friend, who Harry knew would be feeling about the same as him right now, if not worse. Things would never be the same again. They had always been such a balanced act. Hermione was the brains, the one who kept the two boys sane. Ron was the joker, always there to brighten up a bad situation. And Harry was the quick thinker, the one who usually got them out of tricky situations (even though it was usually his fault that they were in the situation).
'Everybody's waiting for you.'
'I'll be down in a second.'
Ron nodded and left the room, leaving Harry to sigh heavily and run his fingers through his hair, making it stand up twice more than usual. The sunlight streaming in the window caught on one of the silver photo frames, making Harry chuckle as he watched his photographic self crash-tackle Ron whilst Hermione stood aside and watched, her lips pursed, but shaking from repressed laughter.
That was Hermione.
He sighed again and left the bedroom and headed down the stairs as quickly as he could. Gathered in the lounge room were all the people Harry could think of that Hermione had been close to and they were waiting on him.
He cleared his throat as he entered the room and everyone stopped dead still and watched him.
'Er, hi everyone, um, thank you all for coming. I imagine that you have spent the last week in much the same way as I have; pinching yourself to make sure you aren't dreaming. The sad reality is that we're not dreaming and that this really happened.
'If Hermione were here right now, she'd be telling me to hurry up and quit stalling. Actually, if Hermione was here right now we'd all be studying or something.'
Several people gave an appreciative chuckle and Harry ploughed on.
'That's one thing I always admired about Hermione- her dedication to her studies and, well, her dedication to everything. She gave everything two hundred and twenty percent dedication. That was the sort of person she was.
'When I- when I first realised I had to plan a service for her, I started to think about the person she was on the inside and tried to plan something that I knew she would have liked. That- that's why I decided to have just a simple remembrance day here, the house we have shared for over twenty years.
'I knew Hermione for over thirty years and I know that if she saw us being sad that she was gone she would get angry at all of us. She wouldn't want us to be sad that she's gone; she'd want us to be happy and remember her as she was. And- and especially the way she died. She wouldn't want us to remember her for that.
'In order for us to remember her properly, I am going to show you a spell she had created a long time ago, but didn't tell anyone about because she wanted to see if it would work. She was a brilliant witch, Hermione, and probably one of the only ones who could create a spell like this. I hope this works, and knowing her dedication and attention to detail, I'm sure it will.'
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a muggle video cassette and walked into the centre of the room and placed it on the coffee table. He pulled his wand out as well and pointed it at the middle of the cassette and murmured the incantation that was inscribed on the very top.
A shimmering golden light filled the room and the crowd gasped. The light slowly faded, until the room was completely dark. And rising from the middle of the cassette was a life size image of Hermione, smiling broadly.
'Hello, everyone. If you're seeing this, it means that Harry got it right and managed to get it to work, which I knew he would. And it also means that I am no longer around.
'I guess you are all probably wondering what this is exactly. This is my finest creation to date, if it works that is. This is my Pendularious, a magical device for recording just like a muggle video camera. I hope this is working fine, because I have a few things I have to say. I wish I could think of things to say to everyone, but I don't know who Harry will show this to, so I won't take too long.
'Ron, I'm sorry I'm not around to annoy anymore-'
Ron chuckled slightly.
'Which I am sure you are disappointed about. But this doesn't mean you can be twice as awful to Ginny either. Stay the same, Ron. You're a wonderful person.
'Ginny- keep an eye on him, ok? You've been the best girlfriend a girl could ask for and I can't think of any words to say how much you mean to me.
Ginny sobbed, wiping her eyes.
'To my darling children- I love you. Please don't get too upset that I'm gone- I will always be with you as long as you have breath in your bodies. Work hard, study even harder and rewards will come. I promise you that now.'
A sniffle was heard from the far back corner where Harry knew the twins, Kath and Lily, were hiding.
'And Harry. I saved the best until last. You- you're incredible. You have done so much for me and I love you so much. I don't want you getting to depressed either, alright? I want you to keep your head held high like you have always done. Take care of the girls. They are the most important thing in my life, aside from you.
'Remember all the fun we've had, alright? Don't be too sad- I am sure that I am perfectly happy wherever I am and that I died happy. Remember I will always love all of you. You know that. I don't really need to say it.'
The image flickered and Harry found himself wiping his own eyes. The Pendularious only worked for one viewing, she had remembered to tell him that much. He slipped silently out of the lounge room door, to be joined a few minutes later by his daughters.
'Mum didn't really mean that about the study, did she?' Kath asked in a small voice. Harry smiled at her, shaking his head.
'It is your mother.'
Both girls gave him a brief hug and headed back into the lounge room and Harry headed back upstairs, wanting time alone to think about things. His mind was running over what she had said in the Pendularious.
That I died happy.
She had died doing what she loved most- working. They still hadn't found out how the spell she had cast backfired, but to Harry it didn't really matter.
She was gone. She was never coming back.
She had flown home.