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It was a clear night. Silvery moonlight reflected on the lake's surface at the grounds of Hogwarts. There was a slight cold autumn breeze rushing through the thick forest behind the massive lake. It was truly a beautiful night. And if you narrowed your eyes, you might've spotted a young man, sitting at the edge of the lake and peering into it's deep depths.
This was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived To Defeat The Dark Lord Voldemort. He was eighteen now, and had been so for the past three months. If you asked him why he was here.. Well, I don't think you would've gotten a proper response.
Perhaps he was just here to look at the grounds of the school he had attended but two years ago? Perhaps he was just enjoying the view? Just taking a relaxing walk in the moonlight, remembering the good times? No. That was not it. Harry was here simply to memorize. To remember the people who had been lost over the course of the war with the Dark Lord.
The first Harry remembered were the deaths that started all of this. The death of his parents, Lily and James Potter. He had never gotten to know them, since they were killed by Voldemort, the 31st of October. That was seventeen years ago now. Harry had been told so many amazing things about his father. A kind, brave man, who loved his son and wife with all of his heart. A true, just and loyal Gryffindor. A man, that Harry had heard more times than Harry could count, that he was very similar to. His mother, a kind, loving, intelligent woman. A fierce red head. Quite like the woman he himself had fallen in love with. His taste was like his father in that area, he guessed. But Harry had always been very proud when he heard he had his mother's eyes. For some reason, he found himself at his proudest when people talked about his mother.
Someone else's memory that Harry would always remember was Cedric Diggory. He was one of the first victims of the second war with the Dark Lord Voldemort. Cedric Diggory had been a seventh year Hufflepuff when Harry attended his fourth year at Hogwarts. Cedric had been one of the two Wizarding Champions from Hogwarts, the second being Harry himself. At the third task, Harry had suggested that they'd take the cup together, it would be a victory for Hogwarts either way, after all. And for that, Harry would forever feel guilty. The cup had been a portkey, and led them straight to a Graveyard where Cedric had been killed. Sure, Harry had brought back his body like Cedric wished for, but he would always feel at least a little guilty. Not even time could rid him of that guilt.
The death at the end of Harry's fifth year was one of the deaths Harry would hold closest to his heart. He didn't believe time would ever get rid of the feeling of loss for Sirius Black, his dear Godfather. Another death that Harry felt guilty for. At the OWL's exam in History of Magic, Harry had a vision sent to him by Voldemort. He believed that his Godfather was being tortured. So being the Gryffindor that he was, he rushed towards the Department of Mysteries, bringing Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna with him. They found a prophecy about him and Voldemort, and Harry brought it from the shelf. This caused the several Death Eater's that had been hiding to come forth to attack them. They were saved by the Order of the Phoenix. While there, Sirius and Bellatrix Lestrange fought. Of course, Sirius, always the prankster, had to start laughing in the duel. He had no way of seeing that curse coming from Bellatrix. His smile never quite left his face as he fell down behind the curtains of the veil...
Harry felt something wet run down his cheek. Was it raining? No.. There were no clouds in the sky. That meant that he was crying. He hadn't done that for a long time now. It comforted him slightly. That he was still able to do such a mundane, human thing such as crying. Harry let a small, sad smile appear on his now tear streaked face.
Albus Dumbledore. His headmaster had always been a role model, a grandfatherly figure to Harry. He'd always helped him, even beyond his death, he had helped him. Albus had brought Harry with him to find one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. This had nearly killed the man. And to discover later that it had been fake... After they had returned, Hogwarts was under attack. Albus talked to Draco, and the blond had no intentions of killing him after awhile. He didn't have it in him. So Severus Snape had uttered those tragic words, and Albus's body had fell down from the tower. Harry had been furious with Severus. Oh, how he had hated the man.. Only to later find out that Albus had been dying.
Then we had Hedwig. Killed in her own cage, while Harry was trying to leave Privet Drive, a while before he became seventeen. Hedwig's death had been a huge blow to Harry. After all, the owl had been a faithful companion since he was introduced to the Wizarding World. The snowy white owl would always hold a special place in Harry's heart.
When they had arrived at the Burrow, they had been waiting in tension. Nearly none of the people that should be there had arrived. But one after another, people had started coming. But then, they were struck with another piece of tragic news. George Weasley had lost an ear, and Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody had passed on in combat against Death Eaters. Harry might not have known the paranoid old ex-Auror very well, but he had liked the man.
Several more tears slipped down his cheeks as he remembered his mentor, owl and friend.
Then there was Dobby. Dobby, the house elf that Harry had free'd at the end of his second year, from the Malfoy's abuse. Dobby had repaid the favor by freeing Harry and his friends from the Malfoy Manor's dungeons. He could still see Dobby's tiny form lying there, with a knife that was meant for Harry in his small chest.
Fred Weasley. He still could not get the image of Fred lying there, with a smile etched into his face. Also, he would never forget the forlorn look on George during Fred's funeral. He doubted that the man would ever overcome the loss of his twin. It was rather ironic. Fred and George had always had a huge, mischievous smile on their faces, they had lived to make other people smile, they created a joke shop so that they could still manage to bring a smile on other people's faces, and Fred had died with a smile on his face. Harry had to wonder what George would do now. A year after, he had yet to re-open the shop. Harry wondered whether he would open it again. Well, only time would tell.
Two of the most tragic deaths that had occured during the second war was the death's of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. They've just gotten a son, Ted Lupin. He'd inherited his mother's gift instead of his father's curse. They'd died in the battle at Hogwarts. Harry hadn't seen them die with his own eyes, however, he saw them lying next to each other beside Fred.. He had known, he's simply known that they'd been dead. And so, a wonderful, clumsy Auror, and her husband, the last of the marauders had ceased to be.
Lastly, there was Severus Snape. Probably one of the greatest and bravest men that had fought in the war. He had allowed everyone to believe that he was on the Dark side, when he in fact, had been on the Light. How he had managed that without anyone but he and a dead man knowing, Harry could only guess. He had been killed by Nagini, Voldemort's snake, because the Dark Lord thought that he was the one that was the master of the wand. He had been killed, for no reason, since it wasn't Severus that had been the master, but Harry himself. The man had given Harry his memories with his last breath, and Harry had viewed them in a pensive. He saw some of the conversations between Severus and Albus. That was when he found out which side Severus had really been on. More shocking however was the man's memories about his mother, and his feelings for her. It was then that Harry realized another reason why Severus had always hated his father, and himself. His father got the one thing that Severus desired above all else in the world. Harry's mother. And he hated Harry for being the proof of their union. And yet, he had always protected him in honor to Lily.
Harry buried his head in his arms and for the first time really cried for the death's that had occured during the war. The names of several others crossed his mind, but it was there people that held his thoughts the most. While he was the hero of so many, they were his heroes. They were the people he looked up the, admired. All of them.
The stars twinkled down at the green eyed young man... No. At the green eyed young child beside the lake. For now, in the pale moonlight shine, Harry was reduced to the small, naive young boy he had been before he entered Hogwarts. Before he was forced to grow up. Before he was pushed into war. And there was one reason why Harry was reduced to tears this particular night.
Because today, it was exactly seventeen years since it all started.
Today was All Hallows Eve. The day to memorize those that had been lost. The day to remember those you love that had passed on. The day, where you honor the dead souls of the people you admire.
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A/N: I posted this the day after Halloween on fanfiction.net. So this is a Halloween oneshot. It's dedicated to all those that died during the Harry Potter book, and while not all of them, these were the ones I found most memorable. Please give constructive critizism. :3
