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It Was Worth It | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 4 Summary: In the war, everybody lost something. Now, ten years later, does that something still mean the same thing? Hitcount: Story Total: 3979 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: This was originally written for decafest over at LiveJournal. There were a series of prompts that we had to consider, picking one or more for the actual stories. The prompt I chose is below. Thanks to Lell and Rhyadra for the encouragement. |
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-Rick Blaine, Casablanca --- The day had not yet begun. The distant sky hinted at the approaching dawn, but still the stars held sway, even as those in the east began the inevitable process of fading into the morning. In the Forbidden Forest, a gathering of centaurs looked up. Their gaze unerringly went first to the sliver of the crescent moon, still rising from the horizon, and then shifted to the lower southern sky. “Jupiter burns bright.” The centaurs nodded gravely at the speaker, shouldered their bows and left the clearing, setting off through the forest in solemn procession towards the lake. In the lake, it wasn't the subtle changes to the sky that alerted the merfolk. Nuances in the currents as the water warmed fractionally and the paths altered following the age old pattern dictated by the changing seasons told them what day it was. They adorned themselves with drowned gold and weeds, and headed up and towards the shoreline. “G et off, you great lump.” There wasn't a hint of annoyance or anger in Hagrid's voice, just a trace of good-natured annoyance, still — rather than complying — the big dog barked his pleasure and proceeded to wash Hagrid's face vigorously until he was forcibly removed so the half-giant could get up. “You're no pup anymore,” Hagrid admonished him without rancour, “for all that seems to have escaped you as yet.” He moved around the hut, preparing for the day before a glance out the window told him that the false dawn was strengthening. “I'd best be off,” he told Fang. “I expect folks might already be waiting — and I can't leave them waiting too long. Not today of all days.” A fog hid the ground and anything further away than twenty feet, but that didn't seem to have discouraged the crowd huddled around the gates to Hogwarts. “Dementors?” someone asked, timidly. “Hardly,”a tall red-headed man said. “Scotland just needs a reminder that it's almost summer. Again.” He shook his head, mostly in amusement before hoisting up a small girl to perch at his hip and pulling a heavily pregnant, bushy-haired woman closer. “Hagrid hasn't opened the gates yet?” the crowd made way — although it was hardly without a murmur — as the Potters arrived and made their way through. “Ah, there you are, Ron.” Harry gave the gate a cursory look of annoyance but joined in the rounds of greetings that had gotten more involved with the extras added to their families over the past few years. “Sorry we're a bit late, not that it seems to have mattered.” He was distracted from the locked gate and his friends by someone coming up to shake his hand but even the process of declining to do so, with the excellent excuse of not having a free hand, meant leaving it up to his wife to explain why they were late. “James insisted on having his pigmy puff come along,” she complied, looking at her firstborn with exasperation. James, oblivious, plunked down on the path and proceeded to poke and prod the tightly held pigmy puff and giggle at its attempts to escape. Harry sighed, but his hands were full with Albus, who, in a great show of interest in all that was going on, had fallen asleep. Ginny was left to deal with him, and Harry moved closer to his friends. “Kids!” Ron said. Rose, picking up on his tone, looked affronted and even more so when he followed up by poking his tongue out at her. Hermione elbowed him sharply. “You're worse than all of them, Ron, and you know it.” He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “And yet you love me anyway.” “True. Though sometimes I really wonder why.” The tone was light, and the smile removed any sting left by the words themselves. “It's because you're both mad,” Harry said, trying not to laugh too much and disturb Albus. It was a wasted effort, as Albus woke, tipped his head back to look at his father quizzically and then snuggled up closer before drifting off again. Harry smoothed the boy's unruly thatch of black hair, so like his own. “Just try and keep the peace for today at least,” he said to his friends. Turning sober, his gaze rose above their heads, trying to make out movement in the fog-hazed direction of Hogwarts and then, hearing the muffled sounds of more people arriving behind him, turned and tried to make them out. The silhouettes became clearer, and he freed a hand, waving to get attention from the newcomers. “Andromeda,” he called. “Teddy. Come and join us.” In the kitchens, something different was taking place. There was the usual hustle and bustle as breakfast was prepared — in fact, there was more than usual being prepared as there were more than the usual amount of mouths expecting to be fed this morning — but there was also an odd stillness to the chaos. Amongst the house elves, attired in togas fashioned of pillowcases and other random pieces of linen there were some being treated with what amongst house elves passed for great respect for an otherwise equal. Some of these were usual sights in the Hogwarts kitchens, but others were far more infrequent visitors. Elves from other abodes. An elderly elf with a silver locket on a chain around his neck was one such. Around him there was always a little extra space as the elves attempted not to crowd him and whenever he said something, there was an extra hush to the air, as those around strove to hear what he had to say. They would nod gravely and comment on his words amongst themselves. Younger elves who made the mistake of not realising that he was the object of such respect were pulled aside and instructed by their elders. And yet he worked as hard as any other, participating in the work of preparing breakfast for hundreds. There were whispers. “Such loyalty...” “Such obedience...” “Such bravery...” “...he led us, you know...” “...Harry Potter's elf.” Catching the last comment, Kreacher turned and fixed the elf who had spoken with an unblinking eye. “Yes,” he agreed, “but also Regulus Black's elf. Two better masters an elf could not hope for. This is Master Regulus's locket.” He held the locket out like a religious token to be admired and properly appreciated. There were other elves treated with similar regard, and there were those who were watched for other reasons. Winky, in a neatly starched, conservative gingham dress was watched carefully, and not just because of the eye-catchingly garish odd socks she wore — or even because of how horribly they clashed with her dress. Whenever she was not watched carefully she would unerringly head straight for the butterbeer supplies. Some things changed, but others remained the same. With encouragement she was absorbed into the work, joining the harmonious chaos that filled the room. Sitting next to Harry Potter at the ceremony was a ten year old boy with hair a rather stupendous shade of turquoise. He squirmed throughout the Headmistress' welcoming speech to the crowd who had come to mark the event — far more than the two small boys who more clearly belonged to Potter and his wife. Albus barely got a moment of his attention — the toddler was snoring quietly on Harry's lap — and James was still far too interested in torturing the hapless pigmy puff held captive in his arms, despite his mother's warnings that if he didn't stop right that instant he would lose the pet and not be given another. No, there were far more interesting things to be seen. Or there would, he frowned as he twisted around in his chair, trying to see more than the vague shape of Hogwarts Castle. The sun was almost up, and his grandmother — seated on his other side — had whispered to him that it would burn off the rest of the fog quickly enough, but that wasn't nearly soon enough for Teddy. “Turn around. Sit straight,” his grandmother admonished him, and he turned around but didn't sit straight as he craned his neck this way and that. There were plenty of red-heads around, thanks to the Weasley clan. Lots of people to recognise. There was Victoire with her sister Dominique and their parents Bill and Fleur. Teddy pulled a face at the girls and then laughed as Fleur stopped a red-faced Victoire from leaving her chair. She would get over it soon enough, he knew. It was her birthday today, after all, and birthdays always made it easy to get over irritation. His grandmother cleared her throat, and Teddy turned back around, watching the Headmistress as she finished up her speech to a polite round of applause. Teddy's attention wandered again. Behind and slightly to the right were Percy and his new wife. Teddy stared at her for a moment, trying to imagine anyone wanting to marry boring old Percy before others caught his eye. Neville was sitting in the same row, further along past Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione. Teddy waved at him when he caught Neville's eye and was rewarded with a smile and a wave back, but the older man's attention was clearly more focused on the front, as the Minister for Magic took the podium. With a sigh, Teddy listened for a couple of minutes, but there was only so much talk about honour and heroics that could keep his attention when it didn't involve sound effects, visuals and tones of voice that brought the stories to life. The Minister's slow, deep voice might have been capable of such things, but definitely not when making speeches for important occasions. Idly, Teddy wondered what surprise George would have waiting for them when Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opened up in the afternoon. The store was never open in the morning on May second, but in the afternoon it was another matter and without fail there was always something amazing and new. Perhaps if he cornered Fred at breakfast he might have a chance at finding out what it was early. The younger boy always seemed to know what his dad had up his sleeve, or gave a good impression of it at the very least. The first rays of true sunlight heralded the day, and with it came the centaurs. They left the spring-leafed forest and approached the witches and wizards gathered near the water's edge. The Minister of Magic held up a hand in greeting, and turned to offer the same welcome to the merfolk, clustering in their finery near the shore. “We are here to honour the alliance and the truce,” one centaur stepped forth. “As are we,” the Minister said. “And to remember. To remember the sacrifices made by those who died, and to remember those who lived.” For those who understood Merish, a similar sentiment was expressed, and, as the Minister had done, it was expanded upon. An interpreter stood to translate for the crowd. “We too come to honour the truce. To honour and remember those who fought and died. And to remember those whose actions led to the war. To stand together against another Voldemort.” There was a murmur amongst the crowd and random applause broke out before being taken up by all as they stood to face the lake. Despite the thick walls and the fact that the kitchens were underground at the very moment the sun crossed the horizon the house elves all knew it and stopped work. Winky licked her lips nervously, but still stepped forward into the circle that the elves all formed to the side of the room. “Dobby.” “Clothes,” a second elf stepped forth. “Odd socks” another elf moved forward and said, pointing at the socks that Winky had worn in honour of the fallen elf. “Loyalty.” “Freedom.” “Pay .” There was a titter of laughter amongst the elves, as the word had been said in exactly the same way the word 'insane' might have been. Winky frowned down at her mismatched socks, but stepped back to take her place in the circle. “Dumbledore.” Another elf stepped forward with the name. “Lemon sherbets.” “Hot cocoa.” “Socks.” The elves nodded, and the one who had chipped in with the final comment about Dobby popped up again. “Odd.” He was hustled back into the circle and shushed by still loyal Hogwarts elves. “Kreacher,” the old elf stiffened slightly, but gave no further indication that he had heard his name said. “Obedience.” “Leader.” “O ur leader.” “Our leader.” The words swept around the circle, taken up by most if not all. Kreacher's face twitched, and pride broke the impassive facade. “You led us against Voldemort and the evil wizards.” “The locket.” Nodding stiffly, Kreacher took a step forward. The other elves stepped back and quietened down. “Regulus Black.” He waited a beat. “Family,” it took a moment, but another elf stepped forward and volunteered the word. “Honour.” A second elf said. No others came forward; almost all of their knowledge of Regulus was from Kreacher. He hadn't been the kind of student to wander into the kitchens and make himself known to the elves. “A good Master,” Kreacher said. “A kind Master.” He stepped back. There was a moment's silence. “Harry Potter,” another elf stepped forward. “Treacle tart.” “Here we go,” Harry said with resignation. He shifted Albus over to Ginny and kissed her quickly before standing. James looked up at him, squinting slightly in the morning light. “Daddy?” “I'll be back soon. Look after your mother.” He ruffled James' hair and grinned at the words Ginny was silently mouthing at him. He paused, exchanged a look with Andromeda and then reached out a hand to Teddy. “Come with me?” James frowned, but Ginny headed him off, distracting him with the pigmy puff before he could cause a ruckus. Teddy looked at Harry's outstretched hand and nodded, reaching out to take it and be pulled to his feet. As they made their way up to the front he made sure to catch Victoire's eye. She was fuming. Teddy grinned at her. “...and that's why,” Harry addressed the crowd without the self-consciousness that had affected him in years past. Between press conferences that he'd had to deal with after some operations when he'd been a rank and file Auror and his promotion to Head Auror last year he'd had the opportunity for lots of practice. “That's why I've asked my godson up here with me today. A lot of people just think about the final battle at Hogwarts, and our victory over Tom Riddle's Deatheaters as being the most important step. I'm here today to remind you all that it wasn't. What's important is living our lives. Living them without fear. Living them with joy, with love, with appreciation.” Teddy, standing a little behind Harry wondered why he had been asked to come up, but wasn't too worried in any case. There was a much better view from here. And his grandmother had been right. Once the sun had popped up the fog had started to clear up. In fact, the nearer school buildings were now clearly visible. One more year, Teddy thought, looking at the school. One more year. “People died in that battle — and in the skirmishes before and after, and even in other less publicised events - and yeah, they fought and died to stop Voldemort, but that wasn't the most important thing. They weren't planning on dying, although they knew they ran the risk, as did everyone who chose to get involved. But they felt that the risk was worth it. They fought — they died — for this.” Harry used an arm to encompass the crowd of witches and wizards from all walks of life who had come to the dawn ceremony, the students in their uniforms, to encompass the centaurs and the merfolk and the school and the forest and the lake and the grounds. The early morning sun glinted on the lake's surface, sending a myriad of dazzling, dancing lights over those assembled. “This world. Us. I think that's what we really need to focus on. Yes, there is a time for mourning. A time for remembering our losses and our victories. And definitely we should not forget the atrocities and the horrors that we lived through. But, if you ever find yourself wondering... 'was it worth it?' I have your answer. One of my good friends told me why he fought. Why he died. He fought to change the world, so his son could grow up in a happier place. “This boy is his son. This is Teddy Lupin. He was a baby at the time of the final battle here at Hogwarts and, like far too many others, he lost people - in his case both his parents. And they are mourned. They are missed. But, because of their sacrifice, because of what we all went through, here he is. Living in a happier world. Loved.” Harry smiled at Teddy, slightly apologetic at having dropped this all on him unawares. Teddy had been frowning at the monument the podium was standing in front of - his parents names were on it, and he knew from having it pointed out to him year after year exactly where they were — but at his name he had turned to look at Harry. The smile in return wasn't feigned or false in any way. Harry's smile strengthened. “It was worth it,” Harry said, “for all that we shall ever miss them. It was worth it. Life goes on, and because we choose for it to be brighter, to be lighter than the darkness that Tom Riddle would have hurled us into - because we wanted a better world — we have it. But we must never forget what it took for us to have this world. We must never forget, and we must continue the struggle to make this world of ours a better place. We must continue the fight that they can no longer aid us in.” “Brussel sprouts.” The last elf returned to the circle and there was a moment's stillness before the circle broke entirely. A general hubbub broke out as the elves returned to their work, finishing cooking and preparing and finalising the setting up. And then, without so much as a flash to indicate magic had happened, everything was sent to the Great Hall. The elves began cleaning the dishes and utensils that had taken part in making breakfast, while above them the students and staff of Hogwarts made room for their breakfast guests. And Harry Potter found a scrumptious treacle tart sitting on the table right in front of him. |
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