Ah, loyal reviewers and readers. I love you! you guys make my day every time. Thank you so so so so so so much for everything you've said, I really appreciate the encouragement. I was so afraid this would be bad (being my first fic and all), but it took on a life of its own, and I kind of like it now. However, it told me the other day that it's over, so here's the end...please tell me if you like it, or what you thought of the story overall - I'm writing another soon, so not only do I hope you come back, but anything you say can only help me out. Please and Thank You! hugs and kisses
The Wizarding World lost many great people that night, and five long years later, no one was bound to forget it. Harry Potter had not been able to hold on, his wounds too deep and too serious to heal. The most the experienced Healers at St. Mungo's could do was make his passing more comfortable, and allow his friends in to see him one last time.
A statue was erected in his honor, at the corner of the street where it happened. With many of the houses burnt down, a part of the block was turned into a park, where kids could go and play, and adults could go and remember.
Auror training had gotten an excess number of applicants those two years, as did positions at Hogwarts. Arthur Weasley and Minerva McGonagall were thrilled to have their students and friends join them at work. Minerva had gone back to be Headmistress, while Arthur had been elected emergency Minister. He may not have been the most qualified choice, but the vote was nearly unanimous, and no one had won against him since.
Almost everyone who'd had a buddy that night survived. The care and constant watch had kept them alive, and Ginny Weasley was not about to let them forget that. Even Katie Bell survived, despite a head of stark white hair. Later on it came out that Neville Longbottom was the one who took down the infamous Bellatrix LeStrange. Those who knew him weren't surprised at Colin Creevey's story (Neville never spoke of the incident). They knew that he'd done it for his parents, who were still alive and staying at St. Mungo's.
Yes, that fateful night cost them many friends. But they survived. They chose their paths, and built new lives, built a whole new world for themselves and their children.
However, every year, on New Year's Eve, at midnight, the survivors get together, and go to the park, and sit in a silent vigil. Some bring candles, others prayers. Everyone brings a different memory of the fallen angels - happy ones, sad ones, funny ones, and they sit outside in the cold December night and remember.
There were a few houses that survived on that block, one of which contained a hedge. Draco and Ginny Malfoy lived there now, deciding it was too special a place for them to give up, they had moved in as soon as Ginny graduated from Hogwarts. Draco and Ginny were surprised at each other. Neither of them expected to grow so close to the other, but they had. Their relationship - one between a Weasley and a Malfoy - marked for the whole world, the dawn of a new day. One of acceptance, love, care and comfort. One of protection and loyalty. And every night, when Ginny took her beautiful children out to the playground, she sat on a bench, and stared at the statue of her fallen friend and remembered that year. The year that started it all...the moment she knew nothing would ever be the same. The moment her husband made a choice...a choice to be with her.