The Half-Blood Princess

Eulogy

There was a celebration inside Hogwarts. People were singing. Drinking, Eating. Cheering. All praising the name Harry Potter. Harley had eaten nothing, nor had she had even a sip of water. She was running on autopilot, watching the tired, blissful revelers. But not everyone was celebrating. George was smiling distantly at what Percy was saying to him, and Molly was only pretending to be cheerful. George understood what she was going through. He had just lost his soulmate, his other half. She had lost hers.

The Trio were huddled together, near McGonagall, when Harley approached them. She had no idea what she looked like, but they all looked at her apprehensively as she stood before them.

Potter. Yet again, he had survived. Harley had lost everything, but Potter was still going. Never mind that he was now mentally scarred. Never mind that he had lost many loved ones as well. He would heal from this. Harley never would. He had friends and love. She had no one and nothing.

Hermione jumped up, tears in her eyes. "Harley, I'm so sorry. I didn't know who he was to you, but I knew you and he were always close and I couldn't figure out how to tell you--"

"Where is he?" Harley interrupted, her voice low and trying very hard to remain civil.

"What?"

"Do not play with me. Where is he?" she repeated.

Hermione looked away. "The Shrieking Shack."

Harley turned away, feeling the hurt and pity-filled eyes on her. Especially from McGonagall. Maybe you should have been kinder to him, and to me, while he was still with us, Harley thought angrily as she walked out of the castle, to the Whomping Willow. She blanked out her thoughts then as she went through the secret tunnel, the tunnel Sirius Black had used when he was an escapee, the tunnel her godfather had used to transform himself into a werewolf and not hurt anyone. Amazing how a something as simple as a tunnel can mean so much.

She pushed the trapdoor open and climbed into the Shack. She saw nothing, so he must be above her. She put one boot on the stairs, her hand gripping the railing, and allowed herself her final childlike thought: that maybe he was still alive. Voldemort had failed at killing people before. He could be Petrified, poisoned, lost too much blood...many things that could be fixed.

With that thought trying to force away her other emotions, she went slowly up the stairs, turned the corner, and felt her heart stop beating for just a moment. She wished it would stop beating forever.

Her father was leaning against the wall, blood soaking his throat and frock coat, black eyes as glassy as that of a doll's, dried tears on his face. He was not poisoned or Petrified. He was gone.

Harley's emotions came spilling forth as she dashed forward towards her father's body, falling at his side, her tears coming so hard it was hard to see, hard to breathe.

"Nonononono! Father!" She was shaking as she reached out for him, feeling his lifeless body fall into her as she held onto him, as if she could magically bring him back to life that way. "Father, please...please you can't be gone! You can't have left me, please!" She tried in vain to feel for a heartbeat. She could not feel for a pulse. Nagini's fangs had torn at his throat. The blood had congealed there after it spilled. He had not died from exsanguination, he had died from the deadly poison in Nagini's bite.

Voldemort had taken her last vestige of hope and happiness. He'd taken her mother, her fiance, her godfather. She had thought he would at least have spared her her father. She thought that after all this, at least she had him. She was alone, utterly alone. The one person who could have gotten her through this unfathomable loss was now also gone.