The next day, 2 funerals were held. Ron didn’t attend either of them. He could not bring himself to go.
The first one was held for Draco and Emily. They were husband and wife, so it was only logical that they should share a funeral.
As for Harry, he was so famous for defeating Voldemort that he needed a funeral all to himself.
They were both held on the same day. Ron spent the day locked up in Gryffindor dormitory. He considered watching from the window, but he caught one sight of them bringing Emily’s body up the isle and he turned away.
Hermione came up to visit him after the funeral. She was still in her dress robes and was looking distraught. She sat down on the floor next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.
“I know it’s been hard.” she said quietly. “But it’s all over now.”
And Ron did not have the heart to tell her that she was wrong.
True, Voldemort and his Death Eaters would never terrorize the Wizarding world again. But the mark of his actions was still there.
Ron never told anyone this, but, a couple hours after Emily drowned herself, he went back into the dormitory and repaired Slytherin’s locket. He made a habit of carrying it around with him in his pocket. It seemed to him that, whenever he carried the locket with him, Harry was still there. Just out of sight, that’s all. Perhaps he was at an Occlumency lesson with Snape, or a private lesson with Dumbledore. Or maybe he was on a date with Ginny, or taking out his Firebolt to savor the freedom from studying. Whenever Ron carried the locket with him, it seemed to him that Harry was still there. Just out of sight, that’s all.
“Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out that it was all a dream.” Ron thought to himself just as Hermione started to cry again. But he knew that it wasn’t. He still could not forget the look on Ginny’s face as Harry dropped dead. It was real, as so was the funeral that was finishing outside. And so was the sorrow that had the castle in its iron grip. It was all real, and there was no denying it.
“Ron?”
Ginny poked her head into the dormitory. She, like Hermione, it seemed, had left the funeral early.
“You dropped this.” she said, holding out her hand. And in it was Slytherin’s locket.
Ron stared back and forth from the locket to Ginny, before he finally spoke.
“No,” he said. “It’s not mine. It’s yours. You should have it.”
Ginny looked for a moment as though she was about to cry. Finally, she bent down and gave her older brother a hug.
“Thank you.” she whispered in his ear. And he knew she meant it.


Now, was that sad or was that sad?
Clicky!

EPILOUGE

2 years later

“Ron! Hermione! Come downstairs for the Thanksgiving Dinner, please! Everyone’s here!”
Ronald Weasley awoke with a start. He blinked at the ceiling a couple times to bring himself to reality.
“Hurry up, you two!” Molly Weasley yelled up the stairs. “We haven’t got all day!”
Ron’s eyes widened in horror and he grabbed the alarm clock off the bed. Broken!
“Hermione!” Ron said, shaking awake his girlfriend, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. “Hermione, we overslept! Wake up!”
Hermione Granger, Ron’s girlfriend, opened her eyes and blinked at him. “What?”
“We overslept! Mum’s downstairs yelling at us to get down there!”
Hermione’s eyes widened, and she leapt out of the bed.
“What happened to our alarm clock?” Hermione asked, pulling on a pair of jeans.
“Broke during the night.” Ron said, yanking a shirt over his head.
“Hurry up, you guys!” Mrs. Weasley yelled up the stairs.
“Coming Mum!” Ron yelled, finishing getting dressed, while Hermione ran a comb through her bushy hair.
“Good enough, let’s go!” Ron said, pulling Hermione out the door.
How Molly Weasley managed to find a table to seat nearly 24 people (not including small children), no one had any idea. But the meal looked as delicious as ever, and no one could wait to start eating.
Near the front of the table was Arthur Weasley, who had been promoted several times during his career in the Ministry. He now made rather steady pay, and now had enough gold to patch up his house and host the weddings for all of his children.
Next to him was Molly Weasley, who was looking a great deal more cheerful now that everything had been perfectly normal for the past 2 years.
Next to Molly was Mrs. Figg, who was attending the annual Weasley Thanksgiving Meal for the first time in history. Of course, that wasn’t saying much, since this was only the 2nd time they had done it. She at least had the decency to change out of her carpet slippers, and was trying to feed stewed tomatoes to Mr. Tibbles under the table.
Next to Mrs. Figg was Mundungus Fletcher, once more looking like a pile of rags. He was smoking his pipe, much to the disgust of those around him, and was trying to talk Mrs. Figg into buying one of his ‘products’ (most presumably something stolen).
Next to Mundungus was Hagrid, who was taking up most of the table. He had not changed in the slightest since Harry had known him. And, next to him, was Madame Maxime, whom Hagrid had invited along. Together, they took up a great majority of the space, and those around them looked rather crowded. Hagrid was entertaining his date with stories about the illegal trade of Chimera eggs.
Next to Madame Maxime (and looking a little squished), was Remus Lupin. He was looking relatively less shabby, now that he had finally found a well-paying job (at the Ministry! Is that ironic or what?) and he was also looking a little healthier, now that a potion had been discovered that made werewolf transformations slightly less painful.
Next to Lupin was Nymphadora Lupin, who still went as ‘Tonks’. They had been married last year, and Tonks was now perfectly happy again. Her hair had been returned to its vividest shade of spiky pink, and she kept knocking over her glass and dropping her silverware (typical Tonks, I tell you…).
Next to Tonks was Minerva McGonagall, who had dropped by on her way back from a meeting with Scrimgeour. She was deep in discussion with Alastor Moody, who was next to her.
Next to Moody was Bill Weasley, whose scars had not yet faded. Clinging to his arm was Fleur Weasley, who was extremely clingy to her husband ever since they were married. She was attempting vainly to feed squash to her newborn son, Fiorello Weasley, who was about 6 months old. (Can you expect a name less flourish-y from Fleur?)
Next to Fleur and her baby was Charlie Weasley, who was chatting animatedly with his wife, Azra Weasley. Azra was pregnant with their first child, a girl.
Next to Azra was Percy Weasley, who had been mercifully reunited with the family ever since Voldemort’s death. Next to him was his wife, Deena Weasley. She also worked at the Ministry, and did something with magical creatures that had such a long title that no one could remember it.
Next to Deena was Fred Weasley. The joke shop that he and George were running was going so well that they were practically following in the Malfoys’ wake. Next to Fred was his fiancée, Angelina Johnson from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They had been dating for quite a while, and he had asked her to marry him a few weeks ago, and she had accepted. They were planning on getting married sometime in the winter months.
Next to Angelina was George Weasley, who had actually dyed his eyebrows yellow so that people could tell him apart from Fred. Next to George was his girlfriend, Jory Carl. Contrary to Emily’s prediction, the two of them had stayed together for quite a while.
Next to Jory was none other than Ronald Weasley. He was now an Auror-in-Training, and was being trained by Tonks. Other than his occupation, nothing had changed much about Ron. He was still the same person he had always been.
Next to Ron was his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Aside from the fact that she was now a Healer-in-Training, nothing much had changed about Hermione, either. Sitting on Hermione’s lap was 2-year-old Sirius Allen, Draco and Emily’s son. He was babbling nonsense words and poking his fingers into Hermione’s plate. Ron and Hermione had adopted Sirius Jr. after the death of his parents.
Next to Hermione and Sirius was Ginny Weasley. Ginny, unlike Ron and Hermione, had changed dramatically since Harry’s death. She had decided to remain single, and now worked as the Keeper for the Hall of Prophecy. It was rumored that she took this job because it reminded her of Harry, but she never actually said if this was true or not. Ginny was much more sophisticated now. She was much less interested in boys and fashion as she had been.
All in all, the Wizarding world was much better off without Voldemort terrorizing them. Everyone seemed more happy and cheerful, and, as Ron looked around the table. He realized that Hermione had been right. It was all over, now.

9 years after the Thanksgiving meal

“It came! It came!”
Sirius Allen came tumbling down the stairs, skipping the last seven and landing in a heap at Hermione Weasley’s feet.
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked skeptically, hosting her laundry basket to her other hip so she could look at her foster son.
“It came!” Sirius Jr. said, bounding to his feet and waving the piece of parchment in Hermione’s face.
Hermione took the parchment from him and scanned it. She only had to read the first few lines to see what it was about:

Dear Mr. Allen,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

“It’s about time!” Hermione said, putting down her basket of laundry. “If it hadn’t come by next week, I was going to write and ask if there had been a mistake! Well, we can’t skive off school shopping now. We’ll go next week, okay?”
Sirius nodded eagerly, took the parchment back from his foster mother, and scampered up the stairs again.
Hermione sighed, watching him go. He knew all about his parents, of course. Hermione had put off telling him until he was eight years old. He had followed her all around the house, begging to know about his parents. She had not, of course, pretended that she and Ron were his real parents. That would be an insult to Emily’s memory. So, she had sat the eight-year-old boy down on the couch and told him. She told him about the war against Voldemort, and about his Death Eaters. She told him about how his father had come from a very rich family, and had been a Death Eater for a little while. She told him how his mother used to be a Death Eater when she was a few years older than he was. She told him how they met in the pub and had fallen in love and gotten married at the age of 17. She told him about Harry, as well. She had told him about how they went in search for the Horcruxes. She told him about the final battle, in which Harry and Voldemort were both killed. She told him about how his father had died to save his mother’s life. She told him how, the day he was born, she lost hope and drowned herself in the Black Lake. She showed him photographs of his father, and photographs of his mother. She showed him photographs of Harry, and photographs about her time at Hogwarts. But Hermione didn’t feel at liberty to stop there. So she told him about his grandparents as well. She told him about his namesake, Sirius Black. She told him the little bit of information that she knew about Emily’s mother, Pamela Allen. She told them about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, the rich Death Eaters. She told him everything.
A stunned silence had followed the story, in which the eight-year-old boy was still trying to work out the finer details. He had questions, and Hermione answered them. And that was that.
Hermione had the distinct feeling that Sirius had felt separated from the rest of the Weasley family ever since Hermione had told him this story 3 years ago. Before she told him the story, he used to call her and Ron ‘Mom and Dad’, no matter how many times they told him not to. Ever since she told him about his parents, he calling them ‘Ron and Hermy’. Hermione knew this was because, before she told him the story, Sirius had never really known anything about his parents. They were just random people without names or faces, and that Ron and Hermione were good enough as his parents. However, after the story, he knew that his parents were actually real people, who, in some way or another, died because of their love for one another.
Hermione couldn’t decide whether she liked this new change in names or not. She had always told him not to call her ‘Mom’, because it was an insult to Emily’s memory. However, when he started calling her ‘Hermy’, it felt quite less personal. She half-missed it, but she decided that this change in names was all for the best.
“Now, behave yourself!” Hermione said several weeks later, holding her foster son out at length to view him. “Don’t get into trouble, and don’t go wandering around at night. Don’t get on the wrong side of the teachers…”
“I know, Hermy, don’t nag!” Sirius said crossly, one hand hanging onto his trunk and the other hand holding his new wand.
Sirius was standing with Hermione and his two foster sisters, Ramona and Pilar (who were Ron and Hermione’s daughters). Ramona Weasley was 5 years old, and was hugging goodbye her foster brother. Pilar was 3 years old, and Hermione was trying to balance the toddler on her hip as she hugged Sirius goodbye.
“Now, send me an owl when you get there.” she said, as her foster son climbed onto the train. “Take care. I love you.”
“I love you too, Hermy.” Sirius said, hauling his trunk onto the train.
Hermione stood back and watched him as he looked for a compartment. He finally found one, where a boy his age was sitting there, alone. He was small and skinny, with green eyes framed by black spectacles and with untidy black hair…
“I’m Sirius Allen.” Sirius said proudly, stowing his trunk into the luggage rack.
The black-haired boy with the glasses looked up.
“I’m James. James Kendle.”
Hermione dissolved into laughter at the irony of it all. Sirius had made friends with a boy named James, in a typical Harry-Ron method! It was going to be very interesting to see how this friendship developed, that was for sure!