Warning: DH SPOILERS, Character Deaths
Summary: Thirteen coffins, thirteen gravestones, thirteen bodies. Harry only remembered three.
Author’s Notes: I had to write this.
They went to thirteen funerals in that first week. Thirteen people they had known well enough to mourn had died. Thirteen coffins, thirteen gravestones, thirteen bodies. Harry only remembered three.
Fred’s funeral was on a Tuesday, the early afternoon air was dewy and thick with humidity, as if the air itself were mourning. There were over 50 people at Fred’s funeral. George, Molly, and Arthur sat in the front row, surrounded by the rest of the immediate Weasley clan and Harry, and Hermione. Tears were prominent in almost everyone’s eyes, and the laughter that normally accompanied the presence of the Weasley twins was forever absent.
Harry and Hermione bracketed Ron the whole time; Hermione’s arm wrapped around his waist and Harry’s hand on his shoulder. Ron cried silently through the whole thing and Hermione and Harry kept him up, kept him steady.
George hadn’t spoken to anyone in days, his silent going-through-the-motions routine was heart-wrenching; he’d lost half of himself and no one quite knew what to say or do to ease his pain. Molly couldn’t stop crying, she tried to be productive, but would inevitably breakdown over something small and her sobs could be heard throughout the burrow. At the funeral Arthur didn’t know what to say to anyone other than, ‘Thank you for coming.’ He’d been trying to support his wife and family for so long, he didn’t stop, even now.
The Burrow was quiet and subdued and when Harry passed through it later that afternoon. He glanced at the old grandfather clock and Fred’s hand had either been removed or had disappeared, he wasn’t sure which. Mrs. Weasley’s sobs were low and coming from one of the bedrooms upstairs. They grew louder as Harry passed a door on his way to the third floor. Before he made it to the second floor stairwell he passed an open door and inside he saw George sitting on his bed clutching an old Weasley sweater. Harry knew, without looking, that it was Fred’s.
Harry traversed the stairs quietly, ignoring Ginny’s closed bedroom door and the quiet sniffles that came from within. When he reached the top Harry saw Bill emerge from Percy’s room. He closed the door quietly and nodded mutely to Harry. Harry nodded back and made his way to Ron’s door. The door was shut but Harry entered anyway and found Hermione and Ron on Ron’s bed. Ron was lying with his back to the door, Hermione wrapped around him, snug between Ron and the wall.
Harry shut the door silently and approached the bed; after a moment he sat on the edge. Ron didn’t move and Hermione only turned her sad, red eyes to him. Harry kept quiet and gently lay down beside them, curling around Ron, protecting him and surrounding him, linking hands with Hermione atop his still form.
On Wednesday evening Harry found himself cradling a small baby in his lap. The baby was quiet and calm and Harry felt tears slide down his face as he gazed into such forgiving, trusting eyes. Teddy Lupin was a little over three months old and Harry held him tightly during his parent’s funeral.
Tonks and Remus had died nearly together, a peaceful knowledge that the other would be with them always. While only married a short time, they had seemed happy together, at least from what Harry could tell.
Teddy’s hair changed suddenly from the butterscotch gold color it had been to bright blue. Harry stared down at this small baby, this small person who would never know his parents and wondered if he had looked the same when his parents had died. A part of him thought that he had been noisier, but he didn’t really know when babies did certain things, like talk or walk or all that, so Harry wasn’t sure if he was able to speak yet.
Harry had very briefly contemplated adopting Teddy, but he still had a year of schooling to get through, not to mention his young age and also the fact that Tonks’s mum wasn’t a little old biddy-she had even explained to Harry that she needed some company in her life to keep the silences at bay. Tonks’s mum, Andromeda, had lost everyone, her husband a few months prior and now her daughter. Harry wasn’t sure what to say to the woman other than to apologize. She had scoffed at him and explained that it wasn’t his fault.
Teddy gurgled suddenly and clutched at Ron’s finger. Ron had an arm wrapped around Harry and Hermione’s shoulders, his hand resting beside Harry’s, where it was holding the baby. Hermione was quietly sobbing into Ron’s robes while Ron patted her shoulder awkwardly.
Every order member was at the funeral, several of Tonk’s muggle family, a few of Lupin’s previous students, including Neville, and a few ministry friends had even showed. Harry only knew the few who were in the order, as well as the few students. It was a decent turnout, Harry was only sad that there weren’t more people there for Remus’s side. Harry pretty much stood alone in that fact.
After the eulogy and the greetings and goodbyes Harry stood with Teddy staring at his parent’s graves. Teddy would never know how kind his father was, or how clumsy his mum was. He would never play nighttime morphing games over dinner with her or get read to each night by his dad. This tiny turquoise-haired baby would never know his parents just as Harry had not known his own.
As Harry said a silent goodbye to his old friend, he clutched the little boy to him and agreed to tell Teddy everything he knew about his father, just as Remus had told him everything about his.
The last funeral they had gone to, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were among the only ones there. Professor McGonagall was there along with Professors Flitwick, Slughorn, and Madame Pomfrey. Hagrid was there as well as Draco and Narcissa Malfoy.
It was raining and the small procession stood silently as the Ministry Official spoke quietly. Umbrellas dripped water onto the soggy ground and Harry’s tired red eyes watched water silently drip down the sides of the coffin. Hermione’s hand was warm in his and Harry looked to her, only to see her biting her lip, trying not to cry. She had cried a lot in the past week. Ron, on his other side was staring stonily at the coffin, no tears or sadness present. He looked more remorseful and angry than sad.
Harry wasn’t sure what to feel. This man, who had seemed so large and intimidating was gone. The most feared Professor Hogwarts had seen in a long while, perhaps forever, was dead. Severus Snape was dead.
Harry’s eyes prickled and tears began to flood from him. Emotions he had been holding back for the past week, as well as emotions he didn’t know he’d had for Snape came flooding out. Seven years of anger, of sadness, of bitter resentment and of sorrow came flooding out of him. Severus Snape had taught him and angered him and pushed him for Seven years and how he was gone.
Severus Snape, the bravest man Harry had ever known, had willingly faced death again and again and again. He had saved Harry a number of times, and had gone against the worst dark wizard in history. Severus Snape, the bravest person Harry had ever known, one of the most important people who had fought in this war only had a handful of people at his funeral.
This man would get no memorials or parades, no badges of courage or orders of Merlin. Severus Snape, a man, Harry hadn’t really known at all, was dead.
As the rain came down harder, Harry clutched Hermione’s hand and cried. Severus Snape was dead.