The funeral had not taken long to arrange, mostly because Luna had experience in such matters since she had helped arrange her mother's funeral when she was just nine years old. That did not make the experience any easier.
There were no large ceremonies or processions. Just a quiet gathering of friends and given Xeno's somewhat original view of the world, he had precious few of those barring the part-time employees of The Quibbler.
There were, not counting Harry and the others, only a dozen or so witches and wizards who came to pay their last respects to Xenophillius Lovegood. Harry cursed, quietly to himself. He should have foreseen this possibility. Alarm charms were one thing, but Xeno, like Colin's family, should have been so unprotected. The war was heating up, and the ministry continued to deny anything was wrong and the Order was as reactive as ever. Harry could not help but feel a measure of pride in what he and his brothers and sisters had accomplished.
What he could not understand were two things: The first was what exactly the Protectorate Laws were and more worryingly, from under what rock were all the Death Eaters crawling from? Fortunately, he had some help with the former, courtesy of Griphook, who had requested a meeting with Harry, Luna, and Colin later for the following morning to address a number of outstanding issues. Help was on its way with the latter. However, none of them had any idea of that.
The weather seemed to cooperate, granting them a cold, windless winter day. The sun shone weakly through the trees and some could have sworn that they heard a few songbirds twittering in the skeletally bare trees.
"We are gathered here today, to honor the memory of a man, who was more than just a wizard, but also… my father, Xenophillius Lovegood," said Luna haltingly. She had lost much of her dreamy, otherworldliness, and since it was a wizarding custom to have the funerals within three days of their passing, Luna had had little time to mourn.
For Harry, it was heartbreaking to sit in the front row, not because he bore part of the responsibility for this, but also because Dumbledore was seating a little to the left behind him, which had him on edge.
The eulogy was short but it seemed to go on forever as more than one of the guests had asked to say a few words. All of it seemed to float over Harry until Fleur squeezed his hand. He met her gaze with a smile and shook his head. No, he was not going to speak. This was not his time, nor his place to speak. This was Luna's time.
Griphook had handled the arrangements masterfully, and it was not lost on the Legionnaires, that not only Griphook and Marinaska were present, but also two dozen other Goblins, surprising the gathered witches and wizards. Griphook had of course, explained their presence to Luna, "He did Harry a great service, last year, and you have been a loyal friend to him. His loyalty to Harry, to his beliefs however untraditional they may have been, his loyalty to you, his daughter, is the reason that we honor him."
It was exactly that. An honor guard of six goblins in full war gear bearing the colors of the Axe Masters escorted the pallbearers. More Goblins, equally well-armed, lined the short route to Xeno's final resting place. The Axe Masters and Swordwind Blades stood at attention as his coffin was lowered into the ground. Whether they had called him friend, "Xeno," "Boss," or "Mr. Lovegood," everyone took a turn with the shovel to help lay a good friend to rest.
The ceremony concluded, Griphook smoothly stepped in as master of ceremonies, directing the guests towards the raised tent where drinks and snacks would be served. At a nod, the Honor Guard vanished from view, taking up defensive positions, in case the worst should happen, leaving Luna standing by her father's grave.
Perhaps a half-hour later, she managed to bring herself to step inside and conversations stuttered and ground to a halt as Luna looked around the gathered guests, "My father," she said softly, "would not want you all here, sad and depressed. He was not like that, he would not want people to be sad at his passing. He would want people to celebrate his life, his accomplishments, and achievements."
She paused, "I remember when my father founded the Quibbler. I was only three years old, but it was something he loved, something he was passionate about, and he devoted his time and energy to see it succeed. He was my father, and he left me something to always remember and cherish him by: The Quibbler."
"I was a friend of Xeno," somebody said, "And I'm sure all of you who know him, remember his Christmas party from two years ago!"
A few voices echoed solemnly, "Never again with the Hippogriff Hammer!"There were a few chuckles and giggles. It became a much more lively event after that, the laughter breaking the ice as everyone shared their memories, the good times, the laughter and happiness that the man's somewhat odd, yet original and refreshing outlook on life had spread amongst his friends.
From a corner, Harry drained his second butterbeer and realized something important about Xeno, and perhaps about Luna as well: He, like his daughter, did not care what the world thought. He had his friends, he had people who loved him, accepted him for who he was, and that was enough for him. He looked at Luna, who was explaining something about a Crumple Horned Snorkack to the twins, or maybe it was something to do with Nargles. He was not sure. But he didn't need to be, "With friends like these, who cares what the rest of the world thinks?" he thought.
He plucked another bottle of butterbeer from a passing house elf's tray and rejoined his friends, and it was only towards dusk that the group made their way via Portkey, back to Potter Manor. They arrived, to find both house-elves waiting to greet them and to take their coats and boots.
The "travel room" was the only way in and out of the Manor magically. Harry had willing paid for some of the most powerful ward schemes imaginable after hiding the Manor beneath a Fidilius Charm with himself as the secret keeper. By design, only Harry knew of the property's actual physical location. Everyone else had to rely on portkeys, Floo, and apparation to access.
Bill Weasely would one day study the wards around the manor complex and admit that the Goblins who had done the ward work had created a passive screen that made the manor as secure as Gringotts. When the time came, and he saw the Manor's War Wards activated, he would say, "Gringotts has got nothing on this!" The travel room was exactly what is sounded like and had only one exit to the rest of the Manor. Colin and Luna had chosen their own rooms, unsurprising that the couple had opted for rooms with an adjoining door. Blake and Remus had at first protested, but Harry had intervened, "A witch and a wizard, well trained. We take away the connecting door and they'll just use charms to find time to be alone," Harry shook his head, "Better that they do… that sort of thing here, and do it all… safely, than have to sneak around."
"Harry, Harry," said Blake. "Just because a Veela has you wrapped around her thumb…" began Blake.
"Does not mean that every man is the same," finished Remus.
Harry looked at Blake and said nothing, but rounded on Moony with a smile on his face. He said nothing, but gave a wolf-like howl and then panted like a puppy, "Should I get Tonks and lend her my whip?"
Remus blushed and Blake rushed to the floundering marauder's aid, "Harry, that's too much information about what you and Fleur get up to."
"What do we get up to?" interrupted Fleur, "Whips is it Harry?" she asked coyly, "Cat o' nine tail tonight?"
Harry went bright red but went back on the offensive almost immediately. "Sure," he drew his wand, "with or without the leather handcuffs this time?" Fleur blushed. The three men and one woman looked at each other and promptly began arguing about what they were going to have for dinner. That moment was when Hedwig swooped in through the open window and landed on the dining table next to Harry. The note was from Griphook.
"Harry,
The reading of Xenophilius Lovegood's will is scheduled for tomorrow morning at 11:00. Also, a word of caution: Albus Dumbledore is invited, per the instructions in the will. If you could be at Gringotts at 11:30.Marinaskha and I have much to discuss with Luna, Colin, and yourself regarding the Protectorate Laws that you mentioned in passing.
Regards,
Griphook."
That put a damper on the rest of the evening, but Luna was able to keep her demeanor relatively neutral through dinner before vanishing back to her room. Colin hesitated after the meal until Harry sent the magical equivalent of tap to the back of the head, and Fleur actually reached across the table to headslap him. "Go after her," she said quietly, "She won't say it, she won't ask, but she needs you."
There was no laughter, and the gloomy mood seemed effervescent, permeating not only the atmosphere but in the very air of the manor house. It was under such gloom when they turned in that night, or at least, most of them pretended to. None of them could sleep.
Although Colin and Luna had been dating for over a year now and given that they were teenagers, they had discovered several of Hogwart's broom closets and shadowy alcoves of equal distance from their respective common rooms. Things had progressed but, not too far, and what scared Colin more than anything else was the possibility of losing his Luna.
Luna was lost in her own world of pain, and all Colin could do was hold her, the way she had held him, a few months before. He had said nothing, but could not help but wonder what was going to happen. Not just to Luna but to him as well. All those months ago, Luna had told him that her father had volunteered to be his legal guardian and he had accepted. Now, neither of them had any direct family left. The future held no answers and he wisely spoke nothing of his fears to Luna or to anyone else. Even after his girlfriend had fallen asleep in his arms that night, he had lain awake.
Elsewhere in the manor, a floorboard creaked. Fleur's eyes sprang open, and her hand slid beneath her pillow, taking a grip upon her wand before she relaxed. She recognized the shape moving around. Only Harry could move around a room and make more noise on tiptoe than a bull in a china shop. "Harry, is everything alright?"
He looked over at Fleur, "Not exactly," he replied with a heavy sigh, "I keep thinking that I should have done things differently, better. That I should have seen this coming. More lives lost, more lives ruined," he breathed, "My fault." She could see the burden he was carrying. It was in the set and slump of his shoulders. He looked tired, worn down, and almost defeated.
She slid from between the sheets, and pulled on the silk robe, tying the sash with an intricate knot one-handed, "I'll never figure out how you do that," he said watching her. "Is that a woman thing?"
"Veela actually," she replied before pulling him into a hug, "And stop changing the subject." He offered no resistance as she dragged him away from the window and sat him down on the bed. She took a moment to settle herself before she began massaging his temples, "Mon amour, your doubts are about more than just Colin and Luna and what the future holds for them. What else is preying on your thoughts?"
"Trust me, you don't want to know."
Being part Veela or witch had nothing to do with it, "You're scared, having doubts, fears," she stopped massaging and leaned back, "About us."
His eyes snapped open and he swallowed, "Yeah," he said quietly, hesitantly, "I'm scared, of what's happened to Colin, to Luna, to me, will also happen to you," his eyes seemed to glaze over, tuning out the room, the softly glowing embers in the fireplace, the bed and even Fleur as he watched it all happen again. Not just Hermione, but the photos of Colin's family slain in their home, of Luna kneeling over her father, and Hagrid dead somewhere in Europe. "So many dead, because they stood by me, for believing what I believe." He whispered, not seeing her at all, "And I killed the one I loved above all others."
Those few words cut Fleur more than anything he could have said and done. It was nothing she had not long suspected, but it was something that she had hoped she would never hear him confess. She had known in her heart of hearts that there was no way he could have moved past her death so fast, so quickly. The Veela side of her had been ecstatic when he had finally come to her, after waiting for so long, but the human half of her had always known that it was too much, far too soon.
Now that she knew, she felt her own anger rising and she struggled to quash it down. 'Anger towards a dead woman does not help!' she thought, the rage within her was demanding a release, and there was only one way she could release that anger that threatened to spill over. She rose to her feet to leave, doing her best to choke back tears of pain, of anguish when he gently took her hand.
"I…maybe we… rushed things," he said, "I… rushed things, I wanted to forget, I wanted to never remember… but I can't. Merlin knows that I can't forget! A memory charm, a hundred of them would never let me un-see, undo it all." He could feel the magic, the anger within her, "I turned to you, hoping you could save me from my nightmares, save me from myself." He pulled away from her, shaking, "I don't know if…I… manipulated you…" his hands flexed, almost convulsively into fists, "I'm no better than that scheming bastard Dumbledore!" his nails had cut into his own palms, blood trickled and spattered the carpet.
Her anger warred with sadness, almost pity for what he had become. Fifteen years old with the weight of the world upon his shoulders, innocent lives, and… even the Death Eaters. When they had fought, they had fought for their lives against opponents who were willing to kill. Every one of them had lost a portion of their innocence that day, but a clinically detached part of Fleur's mind wondered: How much innocence did Harry have left?
"You saved me," he said quietly, taking her hands in his own, "I did what Hermione asked me to do. She told me to find someone else to love and to cherish. I did just that, but I may have done it… before I was ready."
"Are you ready now?" she murmured, taking a step closer to him. She could feel his breath against her skin, so close, "If you are not, let me go, Harry." The magic in her raged, demanding a release, "Whatever we shared was just… physical." Her Veela side was sated with that, even if the witch was not.
"I was not ready, for a relationship," he said, "But what we shared was… more than that. It was, it gave, it helped me understand. That understanding…" he stopped talking and pulled her close, letting his lips crash down upon hers.
She had managed to calm herself, dial back the emotions, the rage, the anger, the sadness, and pity but just as the Veela had helped enthrall him, he had the witch in exactly the same predicament. Somehow, they were together on the bed and she was pinned to the mattress, ever so lightly, "You saved me once," he whispered, kissing the side of her neck, finding that same damn spot, trailing kisses along the line of her jaw.
"No," she whispered. Veela, witch, wizard, that she had used him, and that he had used her all ran through her mind one last time. She threw caution to the wind, she channeled the magic within her, adjusting her charm to project as something calm and soothing, "We saved each other," she whispered to him. In the aftermath of the tournament, of her own loss of Cedric, she had struggled against what her kind call the "spirale à la mort" or death spiral. Its occurrence is common amongst Veela who have lost a partner or significant other before their time.
"I used you, Fleur. I followed her last instruction, her last request of me, and it saved my life," he said sadly, looking down at her, "But it's like I saved myself, only to bleed it all out, to throw it all away because I'm going to lose you."
She smiled, "We used each other," she repeated, "I saved the Veela and saved myself through you, you gave yourself life, through me. Not the best way to start a relationship, perhaps that is true. But at least we have a choice: Start over, walk away, or go our separate ways. You and me. There is no fate, no destiny but what we make for ourselves."
She looked up into those shocking green eyes for a long moment, "What are you choosing?" he asked, rolling off her. He noticed his bloodied hands for the first time, smelled the copper in the air. His mind replayed the chaos of battle for a long moment. So many dead Death Eaters, and he, somehow instinctively, knew that he had barely scratched the surface.
She wasn't sure if it was the witch or the Veela. Perhaps for once, both sides of her could agree that they wanted the same thing, albeit for different reasons. He met her gaze and saw the hunger in her eyes. Predatory. He was not sure how that made him feel, "We have… lied to each other, Harry," she admitted, "But, mon amour," she whispered, "I can't just walk away."
He took her hand, and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently, "Neither can I." Blood stained both their hands, his blood. His life, was in her hands, "What… where do we go from here Fleur?"
She shrugged, "We go forward together. Friends, confidants… lovers… not quite all three, yet somehow, we are more than that." It all made a strange kind of sense to Harry, "I love you."
It was not the first time that Fleur had said those three words, but it was the first time that he actually said it to her, and genuinely meant it, "I love you too."
The night passed quietly and while it was only a few days away from Christmas, none of them were feeling particularly festive or jolly as they made their way to Diagon Alley's Gringotts Bank. It was rather like leading a funeral procession thought Harry. Luna and Colin lead the way with Fleur and him close behind, followed by everyone else. He was not surprised to find Dumbledore with Aurors Tonks and Moody. He made a point of nodding to both the flanking Aurors and ignoring Dumbledore as they made their way up the steps, "Blaghrast Diedom," Harry said quietly. The Goblin's eyebrow twitched in response, "I would appreciate your assistance in a small matter," he said in fluent Goblin, explaining his wishes concisely.
"Senior Accounts Manager Griphook awaits you in his office, Mr. Potter," replied the guard, "Your request shall be honored."
With a nod of thanks, the group passed through the arched doors, "Harry? Que vous dit?"
"Catching up on the local news," Harry replied as they entered and were escorted through the halls of the bank directly towards Griphook's office. It was a few minutes before 11:00 when Dumbledore was escorted in, not by a functionary, but by a pair of armed guards. Though they stayed at a respectable distance from him, it was clear that he was not in the category of "regular, half trusted wizard bank customer" or "Rhatruw-bac," not that any goblin worth his own blade would reveal that it was an acronym and not a real Goblin word.
Griphook waited patiently as they made themselves comfortable. Once they were seated, he began, "Good morning," said Griphook, without preamble, "We are gathered here for the reading of the last will and testament of Xenophillius Lovegood." Griphook hesitated for a moment and then held up the small vial that contained what was clearly a memory recording of the will. He unstopped the glass container and poured the memory into the Pensieve. It gave off a golden ripple, and then projected an image of the deceased, large and lifelike.
"Dad," whispered Luna. Colin did his best to support her and was barely able to keep Luna from crumpling to the floor in tears.
"Greetings my friends," the memory smiled genially at them all, "If you are watching this, then I assume that I have finally moved on to the next great adventure beyond life. It is very likely that my death was caused by my… beliefs… and I don't mean the Crumple Horned Snorkak. I mean my belief that Harry Potter has always stood for the truth and for what is right. My friends, if that is how I died, then do not weep for me," he smiled again; "I died doing what was right, not what was easy. I only hope that Luna can forgive me for leaving her alone."
They could only watch, as the projection cleared its throat, "I, Xenophilius Lovegood, being of sound mind and body, declare this to be my Final Will and Last Testament. All other wills before September 1st, 1996 are null and void." It startled Luna that the will was so recent. The last time her father had even mentioned the subject, she had been a second year at Hogwarts.
"I had little in the way of material possessions and little in the way of money, "he said, "I leave the sum of 25,000 Galleons in trust for my daughter until she is of age. From this money, funds are to be withdrawn only to pay for her education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Upon completion of her NEWTs, all remaining funds are to be deposited into her vault for her to use as she sees fit. I leave our home, The Meadows to my daughter, with the sole stipulation that it cannot be sold to anyone more than five years older until she is of legal age."
"I leave the sum of 25,000 Galleons in trust to my adopted son, Colin Creevy." It seemed as if the projection was smiling directly at Colin. "I had filed the petition with the Department of Family Services and would have told you this during Christmas this year, and updated my will yet again." The memory seemed almost disgusted with the mere thought of having to update the will yet again. "Colin, you have made my Luna the happiest witch in the world, and I will never get the chance to thank you for all that you have done, and possibly will do for her in the future. This money comes to you with the same stipulations as Luna's: once you have completed your NEWTs and of age, what is left will be yours to do with as you see fit."
"Albus Dumbledore, I do not see you in any way shape, or form to be a suitable guardian for either of my children and it is amongst my last wishes that you never be allowed within ten feet of either of them upon the conclusion of the reading of this will. I hereby place temporary custody of both my children with Harry James Potter."
"Pin drop silence" did not begin to describe the shock and awe the previous line inspire in all present. It even cracked Griphook's professional reserve: both his eyebrows had shot up and it took a long moment before he could compose himself. "Now if all of you will excuse my impertinence, there are some things that a father must try to explain to his children and Mr. Potter in private." With a wave of his hand, Griphook paused the recording and pointedly glanced towards the door.
Dumbledore looked more than a little shocked and surprised at how things had so suddenly turned against him. He realized that his sole purpose at this reading was to be told, firmly to "get lost!" The Supreme Mugwump did exactly that, leaving the bank in an absolute tiff. Fleur hesitated for a moment, "Griphook?"
The Goblin nodded and she left, and to her surprise was greeted by the same pair of Goblin guards, "Blaghrast Diedom, Mr. Potter has asked us to escort you to a waiting room where he will join you shortly."
Harry stared at the still form of Xeno Lovegood and for an instant wanted to bang his head against the wall, since he could not hex the memory without damaging the Pensieve and possibly the wall. "Harry… I had no idea…" spluttered Colin, "I didn't even know he was trying to adopt me! Let alone…" Luna looked at Harry and it was clear she was more worried about his reaction to this than anything else, "I swear, on my magic that I had no idea!"
"Let's…let's just hear him out," said Harry with a somewhat defeated shrug. 'What the hell all else can I do?' he thought gloomily to himself, 'I'm too damned young, too damned immature… too damn mature to be a father figure! Especially to people almost as old as I am!"
Now that three of them were alone, Griphook waved his hand and promptly excused himself as Xeno began talking, "Harry, I must first apologize for what I've done. I know I've put you on the spot here, and I know, I'm asking a great deal from you. But I have seen, my children and I know enough of you from both of them, and from others that you will do the right thing for them, and be there for them as best you can. It is for that reason that I made you temporary guardian - effective until they find a family or a place to call home."
The memory shook its head, "I did not know who else to turn to. Whom else does my daughter or son trust? And there is no one else that I would trust to watch out for them, for a few years of their lives, that they need someone to watch out for them? I have no doubt that your friendship will survive what is to come and grow stronger, which is why I chose you to be more than a guardian, or mentor, but to be their friend when they need you most. Now if you don't mind, I'd like a few moments alone with my daughter and son."
Still in shock, it took Harry a long few moments to grasp the last before he walked out of the room and crossed the corridor into a waiting room. He walked towards the window, gripped the rail, and rested his head against the pane of glass with a heavy sigh, "Harry? Ca va?" asked Fleur, putting a hand on his shoulder, gently.
"Fleur… I don't quite know how to tell you this," he smiled weakly, "I've just become a father…"