Who Will Stop the Rain

Epilogue

Two Years Later

It was a beautiful day, Harry thought. He stood atop a hill overlooking the quiet village of Ottery St. Catchpole, surrounded by a sea of sun-yellow daffodils that swayed lazily in the wind. Far away in a distant field he could make out small figures tumbling through the air on broomsticks - Albus and James (he couldn't tell which from this far away, they were so similar in appearance) were chasing a small boy with white-blonde hair. Scorpius had definitely taken after his father, he was a skilled flyer. Since starting Hogwarts two years ago, it had come as a surprise to everyone when Draco and Harry's sons had become the best of friends. Harry wasn't that surprised - he'd gotten to know the boy a little better since Hermione and Draco had become an item, and Scorpius shared a lot of the same interests as his youngest son.

Harry saw Hermione come into view, arm in arm with a tall platinum-haired man that could only be Draco. Hermione and Draco - that had come as a bit more of a shock to him and Ron, especially given their tumultuous relationship at school. But then the extraordinary events that had thrust them together had forged a friendship that couldn't be broken. She was a vocal supporter of Draco during his trial, arguing that the Origami Killer was ultimately responsible for Goyle's death and that Draco was as much a victim as his friend was. Harry had also spoken in defence of Draco's actions that the trial, and for the first time in his life things turned in Draco's favour. Along with Hermione's testimony and the memories recovered from Scorpius and Draco, he won the sympathy of the Wizengamot and the sentencing was as lenient as it possibly could be - one year's house arrest and a sizable fine was a small price to pay for his freedom.

Of course, not every loose end could be tied up so neatly. This was after all, real life - more often than not, it was messy and unjust. The Aurors were quick to recover Theo Nott's body from Azkaban and Pansy was able to give him a proper burial, laying him to rest alongside his son. The whereabouts of Zabini and Flint remained a mystery, but they were believed to have died trying to save their sons. It was frustrating for Harry to have no real closure for the families. Amos may have died, but he took many secrets to the grave - where the other bodies were, and a real explanation as to why he had committed these heinous crimes in the first place. Nobody was sorry that the man was dead, but whether justice had been served was another matter entirely.

The Origami Case was the final nail in the proverbial coffin for Harry's career at the Ministry. He might have a knack for getting into the mindset of a killer, but he had had enough of immersing himself in the murky depths of their minds - Harry handed in his resignation soon after the case had concluded. He fancied walking in the sunlight for a while instead.

Harry watched as Draco kicked off the ground and flew into the air, chasing the boys on broomsticks. Hermione's shouts warning them to be careful carried in the wind towards him and he smiled - it was funny how Hermione would follow Harry into all manner of dangerous situations without hesitation, but she drew the line at riding a broomstick. More figures were coming into view, all with red hair - Ron, George, Ginny - everyone was taking advantage of the fine weather to play while Hermione remained firmly rooted to the ground. Flying had never been her thing, but she insisted she was happy to watch proceedings from the edge of the field with a book to keep her occupied. Harry was keen to join the game, but he had a matter of importance to attend to first.

Turning his back on the pleasant scene unfolding before him, he turned his attention to the three small white granite headstones in front of him. Amos, Abigail and Cedric Diggory were laid to rest not far from where the family had lived in happier times. Harry found it easy to imagine a young Cedric running through these fields with his father, perhaps they had even stood on this very spot and looked down towards the village - it was as peaceful as it was beautiful in its solitude. Maybe that's why Amos had buried his son here some twenty years ago.

Not many people had attended Amos' funeral, fewer still were sorry to see him gone. Harry had attended of course. Despite everything, he felt he owed it to Cedric to see his father off. He spared little thought for the man who had cast misery on others for his own selfish reasons. He was here for Cedric. Harry pulled out the pressed flower and photograph of Cedric from his breast pocket. They fluttered in Harry's hand as the wind whipped up around his face, a pleasant breeze cooling him from the harsh heat of the sun.

"I've been meaning to return these to you," he said, addressing Cedric's gravestone. "I'm not sure why I held onto them for so long - I suppose I hoped they would help me make sense of everything that happened, but they didn't really. You know, I thought as I got older, life would make more sense. If anything it's just gotten more confusing. I try not to let my son's know that I'm completely terrified and clueless most of the time. I think sometimes they suspect me of knowing as much now as when I was fourteen. You'd like them, you know. James especially, he's a keen flyer like we were. More popular than I was mind, he's more like you in that regard."

Harry stood silent for a few moments, listening to the cries of laughter of his family in the distance. It was difficult not to let his feelings of guilt overwhelm, even after all these years. If Harry hadn't convinced Cedric to share in the victory and hold that cup with him, he would have lived. He could easily have joined Harry's family down the field to play a game of Quidditch with them today, perhaps with his own sons and daughters. But it was not to be. Instead Cedric lay here in the ground, surrounded by a sea of beautiful flowers, silent, still, unseeing. Harry roughly wiped tears away from his eyes, annoyed that he still got so upset when he came to visit, however briefly.

"I've come here every year since you died to tell you how sorry I am for what happened that night. That I know it wasn't fair. You know if I could change the past, I would. But I can't. I'm so sorry, Cedric..."

"Harry!"

Harry snapped out of his morbid reverie and turned to see Ginny hovering in midair on a broomstick, beckoning him to join them. He waved back at her then turned back to Cedric's grave. He had lost so many people in his short life, it was all too easy for him to become lost in a spiral of mourning. Thank Merlin Ginny was always there to pull him back into the land of the living. It was something that Draco had spoken candidly about with him - losing his son had nearly destroyed him, but his love for Scorpius gave him the will to carry on. Harry thought of his family and felt his spirits lift a little - the pain of loss never left him, but thinking of those the love of those still with him eased it a little.

"Your father was wrong, you know," said Harry. "He thought that everyone had forgotten you, but I'm still here. I never forgot you and I never will. I know it probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but I just wanted you to know that. I'll never forget you, Cedric, and I'll keep coming back. Every year. And I'll tell my kids about you, so that way they'll remember you, too."

Harry knelt before Cedric's grave and dug a small hole in the soil with his bare hands. He carefully placed the photograph and the flower in the hole before filling it in again. Rising back to his feet he closed his eyes and sighed.

"I wish you were here to see it, Cedric," he said quietly. "It really is a beautiful day."