Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: New chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it! And thanks so much for all the reviews for the last one --- believe there were just under 30 of them, which is AWESOME. So continue to be awesome and drop me a review for this one.

Chapter 42: Remembrance

Damn it, I am going to be SO late.

Hermione dashed from room to room, her hair still damp from an extremely hasty shower, a fistful of wrinkled papers in one hand, and a wailing infant in the other.

"It's okay, baby," she cooed, soothing the best she could with one arm. "Mummy just really needs to get these cases sent back to work, so please stop crying."

She found herself doing this quite often when she was stressed - trying to logic with her months-old child. She was disappointed to discover that it rarely worked.

This must have been the third time she circled the house. Where in Merlin's beard were those data reports? When had she had them last? When had she become so disorganized? When - ouch, please don't tug on Mummy's hair - had she ever been known to lose anything, let alone important work documents? When - wait, she remembered looking over them while she was feeding the baby…nope, not on the table. Maybe by the sink…negative. Oh bloody -

"Mummy?"

Hermione paused her frantic search and looked down at her daughter, who stood peering at her with large eyes, dressed in a pristine powder blue dress. The final few pages of her case were clutched in her tiny hands.

"Rose!" Hermione said in astonishment as she took the slips of parchment. "Where did you find those?"

She smiled and pointed over by the couch, where the diaper bag had been overturned.

Hermione sighed at her own stupidity.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said. "Just in time too."

She was just on the verge of attempting to bind the pages with a bit of string when Ron - finally - came through the door.

"Daddy!" Rose squealed, scampering towards him.

"Rosie!" he replied, grinning widely as he knelt down to hug her.

It still amazed Hermione that the simultaneous pleasure of seeing Ron with Rose could coincide so neatly with the agony of knowing what she did.

But no time to reflect on that now. Merlin knows she'd done it enough already.

"Here," she said, business-like as she handed Hugo to his father. "Could you please feed him? I have to send these files back to work and I still haven't done a thing to get ready. The bottle's already made and everything."

"Sure," Ron said. "Bottle's in the kitchen?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, already bundling up all her paperwork into her arms and moving towards the sofa to arrange them more neatly. Once this was accomplished, she rolled them into a scroll, sealed them, and cast a few privacy charms to ensure only the proper people would be able to receive them. The moment this was completed she stood up and moved to the backyard, where she hoped Marcellus would still be. At this point she wouldn't be surprised if he were off hiding somewhere with all the work she had given him lately.

Fortunately for her, the owl flew down from his perch on a branch high in trees, and alighted upon her raised arm. He ruffled his feathers in resignation at the scroll in her hand.

"I'm terribly sorry, Marcellus," she said, tying the parchment to his leg. "These need to get to the Ministry as soon as possible. But this will be the last time this week, I swear."

Marcellus blinked at her disbelievingly before nipping her finger affectionately and taking off, his snowy wings clipping her hair.

She sighed as she watched the owl disappear among the clouds. This really was beginning to be a bit much. It was her own fault, of course. She was the one who had insisted upon maintaining her still relatively new work responsibilities. But that was the price she had to pay to spend time with her children. After all, Hugo was still so young…she still needed some time before going back to work completely. She was frankly a bit surprised they hadn't replaced her yet…she had barely set up her office in Magical Law when she found out she was pregnant again. She considered it a blessing, in a way. Leaving Rose alone with Mrs. Weasley for the first time had been heart-breaking, and having an excuse to be back at home with her, even for a brief period, was wonderful. Besides, her primary job at the moment was analyzing case files and research where needed…more or less the equivalent of a Muggle paralegal. While it was more difficult to do at home, it was at least manageable.

As she continued to stare at the spot in the clouds where Marcellus had disappeared, she finally jerked herself back to reality. She still hadn't done a thing to get ready.

She spun around and stepped into the kitchen, and the moment she did she wished she hadn't. She groaned as she saw Hugo soaked thoroughly in formula and Ron holding the mostly empty bottle aloft helplessly.

"The, er, top of it kind of fell off," he said unnecessarily.

Sighing, she moved forward and scooped Hugo from his arms.

"Can you just get ready to go, please?" she said, already moving towards the nearest bathroom. "At least one of us should be on time."

She didn't hear his reply as she used her wand to instantly fill the bathtub with about three inches of warm water and quickly stripped the formula-soaked clothes off Hugo. However, the moment he came into contact with the water he began to wail, writhing as well as his two-month-old body would permit.

"Oh, Hugo, please, not today!" she said, cradling him in one hand as she used her other to rinse his tuft of red hair.

He continued to bawl, and suddenly the lights began to flicker on and off, plunging her in darkness continuously. She turned her head sharply, anxious to see if something was wrong with Rose. However, Ron appeared each time the lights came back on, grinning as he flipped the switch by the door incessantly.

"Will you stop that!" she hissed. "It's not helping!"

"Sorry," Ron said, "thought it added some drama."

"Why aren't you getting ready?" Hermione replied, ignoring his statement as she lifted the still crying Hugo from the tub.

"Oh, right," Ron said. "Harry's here. Just let him in a second ago."

Hermione wrapped Hugo in a fluffy blue towel and nodded. "Alright. I take it he has Rose, then?"

"Of course. Since Daddy becomes old news when `Uncle Hawwy' is around," Ron said, imitating Rose's pronunciation as he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

She smiled tightly at his statement. "Well, tell him I'll be out in a minute. And you'd better get ready in the meantime."

"Fine, fine, I'm off," he said, and disappeared into the next room.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the tub, slowly and methodically drying Hugo until he quieted down, which only took a few moments. He was generally a very good baby…both he and Rose were. The primary difference had been the length of their fits. Hugo tended to get upset more frequently, but he was just as quick to settle down. Rose, on the other hand, had rarely cried, but the times that she did could go on for hours. Not unlike their fathers in that respect.

She stood up after a few minutes and exited the bathroom, keeping Hugo wrapped in the towel until she could dress him. As she entered the living room, she instantly spotted Harry standing by the couch, Rose squealing happily as he tossed her into the air. As he caught her again, Hermione couldn't help but admire his attire.

He was dressed in official Auror uniform, the type only worn to the most special of occasions. Although the uniform was still technically a set of robes just as any other Ministry-sanctioned attire, it was only obvious from the waist down, where the back billowed out like a cloak. The top half of the robes could have been mistaken for military dress, double-breasted and featuring a raised collar. It fit more closely to Harry's torso, and was as black as his hair, allowing the silver trim and buttons to stand out brilliantly. To complete the look, three different badges were pinned to his chest: a small blue emblem featuring interlocking M's for the Ministry of Magic, a golden medal that Hermione recognized as the Order of Merlin, First Class, and a small silver triangular badge, proudly declaring Harry as the Head of the Auror Department (the youngest ever appointed at the age of twenty-seven).

Needless to say, he cut a very impressive figure.

"I must say," she began, causing Harry to whirl around with Rose, "you clean up quite well, Mr. Potter."

He grinned at her statement, if possible making him look even more dashing.

"Oh, this old thing?" he said, wiping at the crisp shoulder of his robes with his free hand as though wiping away imaginary dust. Rose promptly swept at his other shoulder with her tiny palm, eliciting an even larger smile from Harry.

Hermione always loved seeing them like this. Harry was always in his element around his children, and seeing him share that bond with Rose was a source of immense gratification to Hermione. She would be lying if she said the past two years had been painless. Especially in the first month after Rose had been born…in that first month it was like she had ceased to exist in Harry's eyes. After he had stepped out of the hospital room, she hadn't seen or heard from him for weeks. She had been left agonizing over her decision, clinging desperately to the hope that this would not be permanent, that Harry wouldn't become a virtual stranger to her, only to be seen on the occasional family holiday. But then one day in the beginning of June, he had shown up alone at her house and wordlessly taken Rose from her arms, cradling the infant against himself fervently, looking as though he would never set her down again. After that day, it was a rare occurrence for more than two days to go by without Harry appearing on the doorstep. Sometimes he had the kids, sometimes Ginny accompanied him, and sometimes it was just him alone. It seemed she and Harry had made a silent decision to never let whatever feelings, good or bad, that lay between them to interfere with their relationship or the relationship, however limited, that Harry could have with Rose.

And things had become easier then. Not easy by any means, but easier. She still fretted almost daily about her choices, but Rose served as a life-raft that kept her from drowning in her emotions. In Rose, something of her former life remained, her last link to the person she had been for such a brief period of time two years ago. In her daughter - in the shapes of her eyes and her nose, the set of her jaw when she was upset - she could see Harry. In fact, against reason, she had almost been upset when it became obvious that Rose's hair and eyes would both be brown, not black and green. She knew that what she was doing was dishonorable. Dishonorable, deceitful, and shameful on so many levels it sickened her. And of course spectacularly unfair to both Ron and Harry. But already Hermione saw the sacrifices a mother had to make, and if virtue was one of them, then so be it.

Hermione was dragged from her thoughts as Harry moved to set Rose down.

"Off you go, Rosie," he said as she tottered off to her pile of toys in the center of the living room. Harry gave Hermione a quick up-down as she shifted Hugo into a more comfortable position in her arms. "I dunno, Hermione, I don't think my robes stand up to your outfit."

She rolled her eyes, as she was clad in khakis and a formula-stained shirt. "Right, I'll be the belle of the ball," she said sarcastically. "I haven't had time to get dressed yet."

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

"Well, it'll only take a moment if -"

She stopped as she heard the bedroom door open and close.

"Ready," Ron said, entering clothed in dark blue dress robes. He also had a Ministry pin attached to his chest, as well as a silver Order of the Merlin, Second Class. Hermione herself had one of these stashed somewhere around the house. He looked quite dashing as well, although not quite to Harry's degree.

"Excellent," Hermione said crisply, and deposited the towel-wrapped Hugo into his arms. "Get him dressed while I get ready. His clothes are already laid out in his room."

"Er, yeah, sure," Ron said. He and Hugo looked quite the pair with their matching sets of red hair. Ron walked off in the direction of Hugo's room - the room that had so recently been her study - and Hermione turned back towards Harry.

"Would you mind keeping an eye on Rose for a moment?" she asked, for propriety's sake more so than actually seeking an answer.

"Of course," Harry replied. His eyes searched the room and he let out a bark of laughter as his eyes turned towards the kitchen.

Hermione turned her eyes toward the kitchen as well. At first she didn't see anything, but then her eyes lowered to the ground. Their daughter sat on the floor with a cookie pot wedged between her knees, munching contentedly on a fistful of ginger snaps.

"Oh, Rose," she groaned. "I thought you hadn't seen me put that on the upper shelf."

******************

As soon as Ron had emerged from Hugo's room, Harry had reluctantly left the house, knowing he was purposefully procrastinating showing up. He knew Ginny would be there with James and Al already, and he had simply felt the need to see Hermione and Rose beforehand.

But now he couldn't put it off any longer, and it was with a heavy heart and an exhausted sigh that he entered the Great Hall.

The sound that bombarded him the moment he pushed open the doors was almost enough to make him turn and high-tail it all the way to Hogsmeade. The Great Hall was more packed than he'd ever seen it, including during the Yule Ball. The only tables present were pressed against the wall and held a small array of hors d'oeurvres and punch bowls. Immediately Harry moved towards the nearest of these tables, hoping his entrance hadn't been noticed and intent on soothing his suddenly parched throat. He noted that one of the punches was spiked with firewhiskey, and promptly filled a glass with the red liquid. The first sip burned his throat satisfactorily, and he downed the rest of it in two quick gulps.

"Seems a little early to be hitting the booze, don't you think?"

Harry quickly turned, empty glass clutched in his hand, to find Mitch standing behind him with a grin. His blonde hair was slicked back over his head in a good imitation of Draco Malfoy, and he wore deep red dress robes.

"Yeah, a bit early," Harry conceded, relieved that it was only his partner.

"Nervous, I take it?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Among other things."

Mitch clapped him on the shoulder as he moved to get himself some punch as well.

"It's just a speech, mate. It'll be over before you know it."

Harry nodded tersely, scanning the people around him.

Mitch followed his example and inspected the crowd, and frowned after a moment.

"You're not still worried about Dolohov, are you?"

Harry glanced sideways to meet Mitch's gaze. He would be lying if the thought wasn't still nagging him. He had been over the security for this event time and time again, and Mitch knew more than anyone how anxious he had been about it.

When Harry didn't reply, Mitch pressed the fresh cup of punch into his hand. "Just relax, will you? There's no way Dolohov or any of his goons are getting anywhere near here. Trust me, forget about him for once."

The certainty in his voice surprisingly eased his mind somewhat. He took a drink of the punch to ease it a bit more.

Mitch suddenly waved at someone behind him. "Family unit approaching from twelve o'clock," he said with a grin.

Harry took another long gulp and shoved the almost empty glass back into Mitch's hands before turning towards Ginny.

"Merlin, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever show up!" she exclaimed. She straddled Al awkwardly on her hip and she had a tight grip on James' hand as he walked beside her, seemingly flabbergasted by the sheer number of people around him. The flowing nature of her dark green dress managed to somewhat disguise her swollen stomach. James quickly slid his hand from Ginny's when he spotted his father and darted towards him eagerly.

Harry scooped his eldest son easily into his arms and Ginny seemed relieved as she used her now-free hand to hold onto Albus as well.

"Hey, little man!" Harry said.

"Hey, Daddy!" James replied. "Are all the people here to see you?"

He seemed astounded at the idea, and Harry couldn't help but smile. At least his own son didn't know how famous he was.

"No, all the people aren't here to see me. I'm just going to talk to them for a little bit later on. Other people are going to talk too."

"Oh," James said. He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you get to talk first?"

"I don't think so," Harry said seriously. "I think the Minister gets to talk first."

"Oh," James said again, and nodded at his father. "I bet you'll talk better."

"Let's hope so, pal," Harry said.

"Speaking of the Minister, I'm pretty sure he's about to suffer from heart failure if you don't let him know you're finally here," Mitch said, jerking his thumb towards the front of the hall.

"That's probably a good idea," Harry conceded.

"Do you want me to watch James?" Ginny asked.

"No, I'll bring him with me. It'll only take a second."

The trek took longer than expected given the sheer amount of people he had to fight his way through. Luckily Kingsley's height made him tower over almost everyone else in the room, and Harry had no trouble finding him. The look of relief that crossed Kingsley's expression as Harry approached was almost enough to make him chuckle - rarely did the Minister ever exude any emotion short of calm and collected.

"Harry," he said, excusing himself from his conversation with a peaky-looking wizard with fluffy white hair. "Punctual as always, I see."

"Of course," Harry replied congenially, inwardly smirking at Kingsley's jibe.

"And I see the young James Potter is in company as well," Kingsley said with a smile. He extended his enormous hand to the three-year-old, and James only hesitated in the slightest before gamely pressing his tiny palm into the minister's and giving it a firm shake.

"Good man," Kingsley said. "I'll be expecting to see you in the department sometime in the next fifteen years."

James nodded importantly.

"I'm hoping he'll consider a less brutal job before following in his dad's footsteps," Harry countered.

Kingsley let out a booming laugh and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "We can always hope. At any rate, now that you're finally here, we'll start the proceedings shortly."

"Alright," Harry said. "In the meantime I should be getting back to my wife."

"Probably a good idea," Kingsley said.

If it was possible, the trip back to Ginny took even longer. Not only was she considerably shorter than most and consistently became lost in the crowd, but Harry was stopped frequently along the way. Hagrid had intercepted him and clapped him heartily on the back, nearly causing him to drop James, but had quickly stepped aside when he actually did knock over two innocent bystanders. Harry had barely gone another yard before Oliver Wood appeared before him, looking as though his nose had been broken a number of times over the past few years and expressing his new manager position on Puddlemere United's Quidditch team now that he was officially retired. When he was finally dragged away by Alicia Spinnet, the recently-engaged Luna Lovegood approached him with her fiancé Rolf in tow. At some point along the way he had set James down due to his aching arms and now simply clasped his hand. He was much more enthused by the next person who stopped him.

Hermione looked quite splendid in a simple pale blue dress, although she looked practically out of breath as she reached him. The delicate silver pendant he had bought her lay against her chest, and Harry was strangely pleased to see it displayed instead of hidden beneath a blouse, as it usually was. She held Rose, who was still clothed in the dress he had seen her in earlier, causing her to nearly match her mother.

"Uncle Hawwy!" she said, waving enthusiastically to Harry as though she hadn't seen him less than an hour ago.

"Hey, Rosebud," he said, grinning. "Long time no see."

"Thank Merlin we made it in time," Hermione said, pushing a few strands of hair from her face.

"Close to a photo-finish," Harry said. "Kingsley's about to start everything. You look very nice, by the way."

"Thank you," Hermione said, only the slightest tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. "As I've already said, you look quite dashing as well."

"I've always liked you in blue," Harry said. "If it wasn't for the kids, we could be at the Yule Ball right now."

Hermione's blush deepened a bit at Harry's remembrance of what she had worn in fourth year, but she smiled nonetheless. She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as someone around them spoke.

"I agree, you have always vorn blue quite vell."

Harry and Hermione both turned their heads sharply towards the instantly recognizable voice, Hermione's jaw practically dropping open in the process.

"Viktor!" she said in delight.

"Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor Krum replied, smiling. "It is nice to see you again. Same vith you, Harry."

"Yeah, it's great to see you too," Harry replied, a bit thrown off by the Bulgarian's sudden appearance.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Hermione said.

"It vos a bit of a last minute decision," Viktor said. He paused as he surveyed James and Rose. "These are your children?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Vell, they are beautiful children."

"Thank you," Hermione said just as Harry uttered his thanks as well.

"How long have you been together?"

Both Harry and Hermione stared blankly at him a moment before understanding dawned on them.

"Oh!" Hermione said.

"No, we're not together," Harry said hastily.

"He's just Harry's," Hermione added, gesturing to James. "He's not mine."

Harry found himself grateful when she didn't describe his affiliation to Rose - or lack thereof.

"Oh, I apologize," Viktor said. He seemed mildly embarrassed. "I just assumed ven I saw you vith the children. I vondered if you and Ron had not vorked out. And you always did talk very fondly of Harry during the Tournament…"

"Right…" Hermione said, clearing her throat. "No, Ron and I are still married."

"Speaking of, I think I see him and my wife over there," Harry interrupted. "If you'll excuse us…"

"Of course," Viktor replied, looking relieved. "It vos vonderful to see you, Hermy-own-ninny. And you, Harry."

"It was wonderful to see you as well, Viktor," Hermione said for both of them, smiling.

He immediately slumped away, disappearing easily into the crowd.

"It still bugs me that he figured it out before I did," Harry muttered as soon as he was gone.
"And Rita Skeeter," Hermione pointed out. "And Cho Chang. And Ron."

"Don't remind me," Harry grumbled.

"Did you really see Ron and Ginny?" Hermione said, unable to scan the crowd with her height.

"I didn't a minute ago," Harry said, his eyes focused behind her. "But they're coming over now."

Ginny appeared a moment later with Albus, and Ron appeared holding Hugo.

"Everyone's heading outside," Ginny said without preamble. "We should go and get our seats."

Harry quickly agreed and followed her out of the hall as Hermione fell into step beside him. The cold feeling of anxiety he had momentarily forgotten settled once more in the pit of his stomach, his insides squirming unpleasantly.

******************

The chairs by the lake were set up very similarly to the way they had been set up for Dumbledore's funeral, though there were considerably more of them. Hermione was almost disappointed when Kingsley ushered her and Ron to the front - she really had no more right than anyone to deserve a place of honor. Yes, she had helped Harry, but he had done the main bit. He was the reason they were here. And as she glanced over at him, sitting straight as a rod in his seat next to her, she could tell that such a concept (however true) was mostly just sickening to him. He still looked incredibly dapper in his uniform, but his face was considerably paler than it had been just moments ago in the Great Hall.

James sat on Harry's other side, sandwiched between his father and mother, and Ginny had Albus settled in her lap much as she had Rose settled in her lap and Ron with Hugo. Hermione couldn't help but think that the four of them (five if you considered Ginny's pregnant belly) made quite an attractive display. The father, impressive in his uniform, the mother, radiant and glowing, and the two sons, practically Harry in miniature with their identical mops of jet-black hair (which happened to set off Ginny's vibrant red hair brilliantly), and Albus even more so with his bright green eyes.

Yes, quite the statement indeed.

Hermione glanced over again and saw that Harry's right hand, the one nearest her, was fidgeting, fingers tapping relentlessly against his leg. She leaned over and nudged him slightly with her shoulder. The tapping stopped instantly, although the way he fisted his fingers told her that he was having trouble keeping it that way.

"Nervous?" she whispered to him. The soft rumble of the crowd behind her, as well as Ginny and Ron's respective conversations with McGonagall and Neville, ensured they wouldn't be heard.

"Not especially," Harry said. "Do you think they'd notice if I transformed into a wolf and ran madly into the Forbidden Forest?"

"It's a possibility," Hermione admitted solemnly. "Especially because I'd have to take off after you as a fox, and that would lead to even more of a fuss."

"Not to mention that Rose would probably rat us out if we somehow managed to get away undetected," Harry added.

"I think we're safe there," Hermione said, smiling down at her daughter dozing in her lap.

Before either could say anything else, a hush spread through the crowd immediately followed by a rustle of people twisting in their seats. Hermione followed suit, and saw Kingsley approaching the podium that was set in front of the seats. Sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the surface of the lake and provided a perfect backdrop for the ceremony. Hermione could also see Dumbledore's tomb, crisp against the sky, on the opposite side of the lake. She was more morose in thinking that this was appropriate as well.

When the minister reached the front of the group, he turned and surveyed them for a moment. Even the lake seemed as unmoving and silent as the vast group of people sitting beside it.

"Good evening," Kingsley finally said, his magically magnified voice reverberating over the crowd. "Today is a momentous occasion. Today we come together, after ten years, to this revered place. Today we both celebrate and mourn as we remember."

Hermione allowed the minister's deep tone to wash over her. The unseen people behind her were entirely still, the silence only broken by the occasional sniffle. She noted in the periphery of her vision that Harry had bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"Today we remember our sons, our daughters, our relatives, our friends….ordinary people with extraordinary courage," Kingsley continued. "We do this because today is May 2, 2008, the tenth commemoration of our final battle against the tyranny of Lord Voldemort."

Hermione was pleased when she heard no sharp intake of breath from the people behind her.

She watched as Kingsley waved his wand, and suddenly there was a monument that became visible in the grassy area next to the podium. It was a monolith made of the same white marble that Dumbledore's tomb was made of, and carved with names of those who had died in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"With this memorial, we commemorate those who died. We honor each of the fifty-four men and women who were killed that day, and we stand with the families who love them still."

Hermione felt a burning in her throat, a prickling feeling in her eyes as she heard a sob or two finally break the stillness. She knew one had emitted from Molly Weasley. She knew better than to think she'd hear a sound from George, sitting a row behind her with the rest of the Weasleys and staring blankly. No matter how much time passed, she knew that his pain was of the sort that simply transcended something as uncomplicated as tears.

She also thought of Teddy, surprisingly solemn, hair mousy-brown as Tonks' had been when she was feeling down. He was sitting next to his grandmother and mourning the parents he had never gotten to know, the parents who would not be able to see him off to Hogwarts next year, would not be able to see him grow into a young man. There was something so inherently Harry-like about his demeanor that it made her heart ache. Victoire sat next to him as well, holding his hand, doing her best to comfort him. Hermione suddenly remembered that it was the girl's eighth birthday, and felt sorry that it fell on such a sad day.

She thought of Katie Bell, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Parvati and Padma Patil, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Cho Chang, and her numerous other classmates who were here to honor everyone who wasn't.

She even thought of Draco Malfoy. She had seen him, knew he was here. She had a strong suspicion that he sat in the very back of the crowd, next to his wife, Astoria, holding his son, Scorpius, who Hermione knew was around Rose and Albus's age. Hermione knew that it must have taken an incredible amount of courage and humility to show up to this ceremony, and for that alone could forgive him for the horrible things he had done as a child.

So engrossed was she in her thoughts that Hermione didn't realize she had stopped listening to the minister until she registered a change in the pitch of his voice. She guiltily returned her attention to Kingsley's speech, but then realized that there really was no need to feel guilty. They were here to remember, just as Kingsley has said. And that's what she was doing - remembering.

"…and so," Kingsley was saying, "it is with great pleasure and admiration that I invite the Ministry's Head Auror, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Vanquisher-of-the-Dark-Lord, Harry James Potter, to come up and say a few words."

Hermione instantly winced at Kingsley's use of Harry's many monikers, but Harry seemed to take it in stride as he stood from his seat and straightened his robes. He was still terribly pale, but by the determined set of his jaw Hermione knew he would be all right.

When Harry reached the podium, he and Kingsley shook hands professionally as though they were not close friends, and then he and Kingsley exchanged places, Harry facing the crowd as the minister sat between Hermione and James. The minister gave Hermione a small smile and a nod as he sat, and then gave James a quick wink. The small boy blinked as he craned his head to take in the enormous wizard, and then jutted out his hand as his father had. Kingsley chuckled as he gave the hand a tiny shake. Then James turned his head to look towards his father, as if concluding his business with the minister.

Hermione smiled at the exchange, then turned to look at Harry as well. When he met her eyes, she smiled more brightly and nodded in encouragement. He had managed to avoid much of this sort of thing in the days after the battle, and she knew he was anxious. But she knew he would do fine…they had practiced the speech so many times he should know it by heart.

He took in a large breath and expelled it before beginning to speak.

"Thank you, Minister Shacklebolt, for your words," he began courteously, nodding towards Kingsley, who nodded back.

Harry opened his mouth to continue, paused for a moment, and then chuckled nervously.

"As you'll probably find out in a moment, I'm absolute rubbish at giving speeches," he said, eliciting light laughter from the crowd. "In fact, if it wasn't for my friend Hermione I probably wouldn't have had anything prepared at all - still finishing my homework for me, thank Merlin."

The crowd laughed again, especially since the majority of them had been witness to Hermione's role in Harry and Ron's schoolwork. Hermione blushed slightly and smiled. A line into his speech and he had already charmed them.

As the laughter faded off, Harry turned solemn once more, though he seemed calmer than he had a moment ago.

"Despite what some of the press may have you believe, this day isn't about me. This day isn't really even about Voldemort. This day is to remember the sacrifices of everyone who faced him and his followers. That includes almost everyone sitting in this crowd, as well as those we wish were here sitting with us. It's here we feel the depth of your and their sacrifice."

He paused as he scanned the crowd, his green eyes taking in everyone before him.

"This is also a day to look forward," he continued. "The sacrifices that were made ten years ago would mean nothing if we forgot the work that was done to win, and the lessons we learned. It falls to us, and every generation afterward, to carry on that work. To keep moving forward and overcome a sometimes painful past as we continue to strive for our ideals.

"Everyone who was a part of the war - because it was a war - did so by choice. We volunteered. And we fought with as much bravery and honor as any before us. And after the battle was fought and won, we did something more - maybe more important than the war itself. We looked after one another. We cared for one another. Many of us were hurt after the war, and not all of us physically. And we understood that and helped each other."

He paused and looked downward to the people in front of him. He met her eyes again and gave a small smile, which she knew was meant not only for her, but for Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys.

"And now, ten years later," he said, looking back up, "we remember that this will forever bind us, whether you fought in the battle or were too young to be shaped by it. It is important that our children understand the sacrifices that were made here a decade ago…that for them, this battle will be more than just a name in history books.

"I know the wounds of war are slow to heal. We know better than most. But today we take another step. The task of telling our story continues. Decades from now, I hope other young Hogwarts students will see this monument and reach out and touch a name - someone she never met, who fought a war she never knew - and in that moment of understanding and gratitude, your legacy will endure. For you, and every name on that monument, are all true heroes that deserve to be remembered."

And as Harry concluded his speech, his voice catching a bit at the end, Hermione could attest to how accurate his words were. She could practically see them around her, not just those who died in the battle, but everyone who had died in defiance of Voldemort. At the very least she could certainly feel them, conspicuous in their absence…Fred sitting next to George, cutting up and whispering conspiratorially about some prank or joke product for their shop; Colin Creevey, snapping away frantically on his Muggle camera; Dobby, in his brightly colored socks and hats, chattering away to Harry; Snape, still intimidating the students who had graduated ten years ago even though they knew better now; Remus, sitting by Teddy and tousling his hair affectionately; Tonks on Teddy's other side and changing her appearance to amuse him; Sirius, making a few light-hearted jabs at Remus, his dark hair falling in his face as he grinned wolfishly; James and Lily, sitting in the front row with Hermione, proudly watching their son; Dumbledore, standing beside Harry and clapping his shoulder, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

She swallowed the lump in her throat at these thoughts, and barely registered Kingsley standing up and Harry sitting back down.

He let out an exhausted sigh and glanced over at her.

"Did I do okay?" he muttered.

She nodded, blinking away tears.

"Yes," she said. "You did great."

******************

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Slight side note: I'm aware that Lavender Brown was attacked by Fenrir Greyback in the 7^th book, and according to Harry Potter Wiki she was one of the deceased during the Battle of Hogwarts, but given that it was not explicitly stated in the book (or by JKR herself as far as I know) that she died, I'm going to assume she survived. If someone is aware of an interview or something where JKR affirmed Lavender's death, please let me know. But otherwise I'm going to be an optimist and say she's alive and well.

Aaaannnd cue reviews.

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