The morning was warm, but their hearts were cold. Leaves rustled and tumbled around in the wind by their feet, little critters chirped and squawked nearby; but where they wanted to see life the most, there was only silence.
Luna's casket was lowered into the ground alongside her mother's in their family burial grounds, just outside of Godric's Hollow; the very same graveyard Harry's own parents rested within. But this day wasn't about them, or Harry himself; it was about the young witch who'd lost her life so tragically.
Her father was calm at the head of the procession, now watching his daughter be lowered into the same dirt he'd been forced to place his wife within nearly twenty years prior. The gathering was small; only Luna's family and closest friends had been allowed at her final burial, the public ceremony had been held the night before. Tens of thousands of wizards and witches had paid respects to their fallen heroine.
Hermione looked the most distraught of the bunch, tears had run freely down her cheeks throughout the entire ceremony, and only now had they ceased, as her face was buried in the shoulder of a comforting Harry, his face as somber as any had ever seen it. Dean likewise was holding a woman in his arms, Ginny's grief-stricken face heartbreaking to see, while she leaned backwards against the striker's chest. Neville stood silently alongside his pretty wife and their only child, a two year-old daughter Athena. Ron and Seamus flanked Harry on either side, their expressions grim but resolved.
All of them were on edge, wands concealed and ready to be pulled at a moment's notice; if there was ever an obvious time or place for an attack, this would have been it. Even with the assurances of the now-imprisoned pleb, who'd told them no attacks would come to them during the funeral, they were still wary of an ambush.
The man's questioning revealed close to nothing; all he'd told them was their organization was vast, and their victory inevitable. He'd even gone as far as to apologize for future deaths and destructions brought upon them by the Caesars before this all came to an end. Despite his promises of restraint, the seven friends remained cautious at all times. As bad as this menace seemed, the Caesars had still only claimed one life.
When Luna's casket was firmly underground, each of them picked up a shovel and covered her completely, magically sealing the grave so that no one or no thing could ever enter it. Luna was entirely gone to them now. Never again would they see her face in the flesh, even if it was in death. Never would they again hear her voice as it came from her lips, or gaze into her beautiful eyes, once so full of life. A part of all of them had died with her, something they could never get back.
After the burial was complete all but three of the group apparated away, the original trio with one more stop to make. It wasn't far, Harry could have found the graves with his eyes closed, he'd visited them so often. Hermione held his hand all the way as if guiding him anyways, with Ron walking close by their side.
No one spoke, as they hadn't all day, when they reached the graves of Lily and James Potter. Harry fell to his knees on the soft dirt in front of them, never before having been so ashamed of himself in the 'presence' of his parents. Hermione kneeled down beside him, wrapping her small arms around his waist, while Ron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You know," Harry said, gazing over the inscriptions etched on their tombstones. "I'm older now than they ever were; and I feel like they deserved their lives so much more than I'm deserving of mine."
"Don't say that Harry!" Hermione chided him, tightening her grip on his waist. "They would never accept that kind of thinking from you; you know that."
"But am I wrong?"
"Don't search for the rights and wrongs in situations like this one mate," Ron said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "your parents certainly deserved better than what they got, and you deserve everything you've got to live for as well. Don't think about things like who deserved what more; all of you deserved to live -- but they gave their lives to protect yours."
"Sometimes, I wish they hadn't," Harry replied, truthfully. "if I didn't have the two of you, and the rest of our friends, I don't know what about this life would be worth living."
"Well we're not going anywhere mate." Ron assured him, his voice quiet like the calm winds sweeping through the hollow. "So you're always going to have something to live for."
"Thanks Ron," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet and clapping the dirt from his palms. "it's just rough, from time to time. I mean, I've never lost someone close to me from anything but murder…I don't even know what its like for people who lose close ones in an accident, to cancer, to a heart attack, anything-"
"Merlin's beard!" Hermione exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry to interrupt you Harry, but I have to leave! I need to get to the lab right away! I'll call you later!"
And with a pop she was gone, leaving the two wizards staring at the spot where she'd been standing in an amused silence.
"I hate it when she does that." Ron commented, after a moment. "C'mon mate, I'll buy you a beer, we need to toast to Luna."
***
"Jordan!"
Sprinting into her lab, still throwing her white lab coat over her shoulders, Hermione shouted at her assistant, a young man of dark complexion who'd just wrapped up his seventh year at Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin, but Hermione didn't hold those same petty grudges as she did back in her schooling days. During the war with Voldemort, when more than half of the Slytherins at Hogwarts openly supported Harry, she'd discarded many of her past prejudices.
"Hermione? I thought you were-"
"Shut it!" She didn't have time for explanations. "Get all the bodies, all of them, prepped for another autopsy. Now!"
"Yes ma'am."
Hermione had an idea, and prayed that she was right, though she wasn't entirely sure what to do with the information if her hunch was correct.
***
After apparating back to his apartment, Seamus was surprised to find the young witch he'd brought home from Conviviam -- a wizarding nightclub -- the night before still in his flat, seated cross-legged on his couch with a bucket of ice cream and the remote control.
"Hi Seamus," she smiled at him warmly, and he was struck by just how sexy she looked wearing nothing but one of his oversized t-shirts. "are you doing okay?"
Knowing he'd just returned from burying one of his best friends, she gazed at him with concern, looking as cute as any girl he'd ever seen. "Not especially," he admitted, looking away from her. "I have a lot going on right now, more than just Luna, even."
Putting the ice cream down, the young girl, who's name Seamus embarrassingly could not remember, motioned him over to sit next to her. Obliging, Seamus crashed into the couch next to her and let her run her small, smooth hands over his shoulders.
"I've got you baby," she whispered, and Seamus found himself liking this girl more and more by the minute, despite how he felt at the moment. Slowly they turned so that he lay in her lap, back against her chest, while she massaged his shoulders. "talk to me, you can trust me."
"I barely even know you." Seamus said, resting back against her, unsure of whether he should open up to her.
She playfully nibbled on his earlobe, whispering, "I know you intimately, so why not let me get to know you emotionally?"
Despite all the women he'd had in his years of playing the field, he was still a sucker for seduction. And this young blonde was a master of it. Now he just needed to find some way of getting her to say her name so she wouldn't realize he'd forgotten it.
He sighed. "What do you do, for a living?"
"Oh," she said mischievously. "I'm going to be a seventh year at Hogwarts this fall."
"WHAT!?" Seamus yelped, sitting up straight and spinning around to look the young witch in the face, horrified he'd slept with a woman more than seven or eight years his junior.
Laughing hysterically, she smacked him on the back playfully, grabbing his shoulders and wrenching him back to her. "I'm kidding!" Seamus let out a deep breath of relief. "I work in accounting at Gringott's; I was a second year when you all defeated you-know-who."
"Voldemort."
To her credit, she didn't shutter like many wizards and witches still did even though the menace of Voldemort had been vanquished. She simply nodded, her lips against his neck as she continued to rub his shoulders and occasionally work down his back.
"Then I'd assume you've never killed a person before."
She paused a moment, her hands flinching on his ribs, but she quickly continued the massage, shaking her head, long blonde hair tickling his shoulders. By her posture, Seamus knew she was suddenly more serious than playful.
"Talk to me…" She whispered, lips next to his ears while she brought her hands across his chest, hugging him back into herself as she laid down with him in her arms.
"In the war with Voldemort," he began, reminiscing. "I knew there would be deaths, I knew I'd either kill or be killed; but nothing really prepares you for that first kill. I still see his face from time to time, hear his voice, the fear in his eyes, the despair on his face as he realized he couldn't be saved; its something you can't understand without watching it happen yourself."
"I won't pretend to know what it's like," she whispered, sensing his obvious vulnerability. "but I can hold you and be a good listener."
"Back then, it was them or us," he went on, finding the words difficult to come by. "and in the time since, yeah, once and a while, there was a wizard who wouldn't go quietly and I had to end a life. But I'm mainly a capture and interrogation guy; I'm not a dueler or a powerful spell user like Ron or Harry are."
Seamus liked this girl more and more by the minute, as she said nothing but tightened her grip on his waist and waited for him to continue. So many girls talked in all the wrong times, this one knew when to be quiet.
"But now; six wizards have been killed in three days by my hand." Only now did he begin choking on his words. "And there is nothing I can do -- I bound five of them together for questioning and they all hemorrhaged and died; two days later I tried to heal a wizard and it killed him."
A single tear rolled downwards from his right eye, the young girl, so warm and soft beneath him, brushed it away.
"Of course we found out later in both cases that it was my spells that killed them. I killed six people this week; more than a dozen in my life. But these past few were different, it wasn't me versus them, one of us lives and one of us dies…they were helpless. Even if I didn't know it would happen…" his voice caught in his throat, and he could feel his body shivering slightly while his newfound friend did her best to hold and console him. "I still killed them…it's just, it's so hard. Harry, Ginny, and Ron, they're brawlers, they can brush it off. Even Dean and Neville got over their kills easily enough…but I just can't do that…it haunts me."
Turning over, he gazed into the beauty's eyes before laying his head down on her chest, allowing her to run her slender fingers through his hair and sooth his pain.
"You're a hero to me, Seamus," she whispered, rubbing her gentle fingertips over his temples. "you all are…you have no idea how much the rest of us look up to you…I owe you my life. Without you guys you-know…Voldemort would have killed all of us. No matter what you think of yourself, to me, to everyone in our world, you're never going to be anything but a hero we all admire."
Nodding, her words calming him even if only a little bit, Seamus snuggled his head in close to her, satisfied with the conversation, and realizing that between her undeniable beauty and kind demeanor she very well may be a keeper. As he pondered whether dropping his playboy persona for a girl he was surprised had even been in his apartment this morning, she picked up the ice cream again and began chipping away at it, feeding him every once and again with a sly smile on her face.
"Thanks for being here, for talking to me," he told her, propping himself up on his elbows and smiling at her. "I guess I needed to relieve some stress."
Smiling, she licked the last drops of ice cream off the spoon, then tapped him on the nose with it, giving him a wink.
He grinned.
***
"Athena you take those boots off before you start running through the house!"
Neville chuckled at his wife's antics as their energetic two year-old zoomed around the house, tracking leaves and dirt behind her. Sarah groaned as she followed in her tracks, casting a cleaning spell to pick up the trail left by the young girl.
Distracted as he was from all that had happened the past few days, Neville missed a few of the tell-tale signs he would have caught on a normal day; the security wards were down, but he'd not noticed. A pillow or two in the living room was not in the position it had been before they'd left, but he didn't notice. His wife and child became uncharacteristically quiet a few seconds after they'd run in the door, but he pushed that aside as nothing more than his wife catching and quieting their little sparkplug.
What he did notice, after walking into the kitchen, was the robed man sitting at his table. Young and polished, he held something in his right, gloved, hand that kept Neville from immediately pulling his wand.
"Have a seat, Mr. Longbottom."
His voice was polite, non-commanding, not something Neville would have expected from a man holding what appeared to be some kind of detonator…a muggle device.
"What have you done with my family?" Neville demanded, still on foot, clearly stating he would not sit until he was assured of their safety. Years of auror training and experience helped him stay calm and swallow his heartbeat, so furious he could feel it in his throat.
"They're fine; honestly, believe what you like, but we wish no harm on you or any of your friends."
"I just came from a funeral with a father who would certainly refute that claim." He responded, sitting down and placing his hands on the table. He was a great auror, probably capable of defeating this man in combat. But this wizard had chosen the location, the time, incapacitated his wife, and held a weapon he was not completely familiar with. His disadvantage was absolute.
"Sacrifice is a necessary evil."
"So I've heard." Neville snapped, sweat forming on his forehead, recalling that Hermione said the Caesar she'd spoken with said something similar. "So then why Luna? Why not one of the other thousands of witches or wizards out there?"
The Caesar smiled. "Come now, what grabs the attention of a populace more than the death of one of their most beloved?"
"Then again," Neville fumed, the Caesar essentially confirming they had targeted the Gryffindor Eight specifically. "why Luna? Why not me? Or Harry? Ginny? Ron? What made Luna so damned deserving of death?"
"She was…expendable."
Neville's jaw quivered with anger. "Enlighten me."
Infuriatingly, the Caesar smiled again. Had they no humanity? "It is all part of the plan; for your salvation."
"What if we don't feel the need for salvation? Things were going well before you all showed up."
"Men far greater than you or me believe differently. And it is their opinions I cherish, not yours."
"Then why are you here?"
He smiled again, pulling down the hood of his robe so that Neville might see more of his face. Nothing about him flickered even a hint of recognition. "Now we're getting somewhere."
"Go on."
"I bring you a message, one you will not want to hear, but that you will have no choice but to act against."
"You all seem to think your plans are infallible, that you have this planned to perfection."
"No," the man said, shaking his head. "there is one variable that we cannot predict; but that is not for you to know."
Their discretion irked him to no end.
"Then give me your message and get out."
Cocking his eyebrows at Neville's rudeness, the Caesar continued. "Very well; but first, I do apologize; I never offered you my name." He smiled. "It is Titus, Titus Caesar, as I'm sure you have surmised."
"I don't give a shit."
"I'm sorry to hear that. My message is simple."
Neville said nothing, choosing instead to glare at the man seated across from him.
"The Ministry elections will be postponed as none of the candidates are worthy of office."
Neville bit his tongue for fear of agreeing with the madman; none of the men and women running for office of Minister of Magic were worthy, not by a long shot. Before this crisis with the Caesars, the corruption in the government had been the main source of public attention and intrigue. But he wouldn't give the Caesars the pleasure of being right, so he simply nodded.
"Furthermore, the current system is inadequate and will be disbanded." Neville snorted. "The current heads of the major ministry departments will be shepherded into a single senate that will rule by committee until a competent Minister can be appointed."
"And if we say no?"
The matter-of-fact tone in which Titus responded lit a fury in Neville he'd scarcely felt before.
"Another of your friends will be killed."