Alexandra Dursley {Golden Trio}

Chapter 167 - Sacrifices to the War

honestly dracotok is so fire :)

People clapped Al on the back, embraced her, shook her hand for longer than she cared for. They had won the battle. She had won the war. But at what cost? People - students, teachers, friends, and allies, sat down eating together, the house tables disgarded. She'd wanted that for longer than she could say. Theo and Zabini were chatting with Ernie and Justin Finch-Fletchey at the Gryffindor table. Al smiled as she saw Neville, Daphne, Luna, Ginny, Anne and Marlene all sat together at the Ravenclaw table and surrounded by people, waving her over. But she shook her head with a weak smile and headed over to the centre of the room, where the fallen lay down in a line.

There were faces she recognised, but most that she didn't. She looked up and down the row, paying her respects. Hannah Abbot was sat with Pavarti Patil, crying over the bodies of Susan Bones and Lavender Brown. Anthony Goldstein lay near the almost unrecognisable body of Professor Vector, who had been crushed by a giant. Millie, Brandon and two other Slytherin sixth years stood over Doherty, the girl whose birthday it was today. Two more bodies of Order members and then there was the feeble mass of Colin Creevey, looking tinier in his death than ever before. Al had only spoken to him on one occasion, during the Triwizard Tournament.

And then there was George, laying peacefully next to his brother, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping.  Al dropped to her knees beside him and took his hand in hers, tears pouring silently as she shook with sobs. It was cold, and heavy, but as soft as it had been in life. She wasn't sure how long she knelt there, but she only stopped when a warm and motherly hand placed itself on her shoulder.

Al continued to cry and dab at her eyes, looking over to see Molly, with Arthur, McGonagall and Kingsley stood a little way behind her. Al placed George's hand gently over his other on his chest where he held his wand, and rose, knees shaking, to face Molly.

Molly offered her a kind smile, though the grief was still visible in her eyes, and stroked her hair before embracing her warmly. It felt like a mother's embrace, like when she'd bid goodbye to her own Ma. "I'm sorry," Al whispered as she cried into Molly's shoulder.

"I don't blame you," Molly said sadly. Al stepped back, taking a breath.

"I'm pregnant," she said, offering a meek smile.

Molly's eyes shone with tears, but of pride and joy, and not sadness. Grief yes, but not pity or anger. "Really?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Al nodded and Molly pulled her into a hug once more, before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Come on," she said quietly, leading Al from the hall. They went up through the castle, the damage caused littering every corridor they walked along. They passed a gaping hole in a wall, and Al could see that the sun had fully risen by now.

They stopped at the stone gargoyle to the headmaster's office, and Al and Molly stopped as a group of three came up behind them. "Dumbledore," McGonagall said, her voice wavering. The gargoyle stepped aside and she led the way up, Molly, Arthur and Kingsley stepping to one side to allow Al to go first. She nodded silently in grateful thanks and headed up the stairs after McGonagall, who had taken up the role of headmistress.

Al took one of the four seats that had been set out in front of the desk and waited patiently for everyone else to do the same. "Kingsley has been made Minister for Magic," McGonagall explained, and Al nodded.

"I'll be awarding you and everyone else who fought the Order of Merlin," he said quietly, "First class."

Al couldn't care less. "And Harry, Mad-eye, Sirius, Cedric Diggory...?" Al began to list.

"Yes, those too," Kingsley reassured her.

"Where is Harry?" Arthur said tentatively, and Al inhaled sharply, jogging her knee to pluck up the courage to say it.

"He...he's dead," Al told them, forcing the tears away from her eyes. McGonagall gasped, Arthur went very pale and gripped the desk and Molly let out a wail of pain before putting her head in her hands. Kingsley just looked very grim. "It was just after Christmas."

"What?" McGonagall asked sharply. "You told us he was in the castle."

"I lied," Al admitted freely. "But I'm done with the lies. I want to tell all of you everything." McGonagall's eyes narrowed, but she nodded her permission. "There was a prophecy made in nineteen-eighty-one..." Al began. And she told them everything. How Harry was the chosen one, and then her. About Lily Potter's sacrificial protection. About Voldemort's horcruxes, and the soul exchanging that had happened between her, and Harry, and Voldemort. About Trelawny's prophecy to her. About how Dumbledore had told her all about his hand while he trained her up in sixth year. She told them how the notebook had contained Dumbledore's memories of Snape, and how their interactions throughout the year had proven he was working with the Order.

She recounted the tale of how she had taken the sword to Harry, how the locket had strangled him while he swam and Ron and Hermione had been hunting horcruxes alone. About the piece of soul inside her. She told them about how she'd needed to lure Voldemort into battle to kill him, how Remus's death was the sacrifice she'd needed to succeed, and how George's was what she'd needed to accept death and become its master. She told them how disarming Draco Malfoy had given her possession of the Elder Wand. Al spoke briefly about her encounter with not-Harry after she'd died, but she didn't understand it and couldn't explain it.

When she was done, everyone sat in silence for a few moments until Kingsley spoke. "So what to do about Snape?"

"He was a git," Al said, "Really bad teacher. But he wasn't a Death Eater."

"We'll publically clear his name then," Kingsley said, and McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I'll be removing the dementors from Azkaban," he informed them, "and the Ministry will aid Hogwarts with its reparations."

"Thank you, Kingsley," McGonagall said.

"Will the school be ready by September?" Al asked.

"Yes I think so," said McGonagall.

"Then I think the seventh years should be invited back," Al said, "So they can get their NEWTs. Most of us missed a lot of lessons and haven't really revised."

"I quite agree," McGonagall said.

"And I think..." Arthur said quietly, "There should be a tribute here...once Hogwarts is rebuilt...for all those who gave their lives."

Al swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded in agreement and Molly said, "That's beautiful, Arthur."

"I'll organise it," Al said quickly, "I-I want to do something ."

"You've done plenty," Molly said kindly.

"But...I-I need to keep going," Al said, "It's more for me than anyone else..."

"You can arrange the plans," McGonagall promised. "Do you wish to remain head girl-?"

"No," Al said quickly, "No, I think someone else should have the chance - one of the sixth years or the Muggle-Borns. Marlene Bennet would be a strong candidate, or Ginny-"

"No, Miss Weasley will not be head girl," McGonagall said firmly, and Molly frowned at her. "I'm making her quidditch captain. But you can't tell her yet."

"We won't say a word," Molly promised, the corners of her mouth upturned. Al mustered a faint smile. It was odd, how something so trivial could bring so much joy. She supposed it was the stark contrast between the weighted darkness looming over her.

"And head boy?" McGonagall asked.

"I mean, I'd say Neville," Al said, "But I think he wants some peace and quiet next year. I know I do."