All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed. Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple of days, the Patil twins were gone before breakfast on the morning following Dumbledore's death and Zacharias Smith was escorted from the castle by his haughty-looking father. Seamus Finnigan, on the other hand, refused point-blank to accompany his mother home, they had a shouting match in the Entrance Hall which was resolved when she agreed that he could remain behind for the funeral. She had difficulty in finding a bed in Hogsmeade, Seamus told Harry, Y/n and Ron, for wizards and witches were pouring into the village, preparing to pay their last respects to Dumbledore.
Some excitement was caused among the younger students, who had never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, came soaring out of the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge of the Forest. Harry watched from a window as a gigantic and handsome olive-skinned, black-haired woman descended the carriage steps and threw herself into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation of Ministry officials, including the Minister for Magic himself, was being accommodated within the castle. Harry was diligently avoiding contact with any of them, he was sure that, sooner or later, he would be asked again to account for Dumbledore's last excursion from Hogwarts.
Harry, Ron, Y/n, Hermione and Ginny were spending all of their time together. The beautiful weather seemed to mock them, Harry could imagine how it would have been if Dumbledore had not died, and they had had this time together at the very end of the year, Ginny's examinations finished, the pressure of homework lifted... and hour by hour, he put off saying the thing that he knew he must say, doing what he knew it was right to do, because it was too hard to forgo his best source of comfort.
They visited the hospital wing twice a day, Neville had been discharged, but Bill remained under Madam Pomfrey's care. His scars were as bad as ever, in truth, he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody, though thankfully with both eyes and legs, but in personality he seemed just the same as ever. All that appeared to have changed was that he now had a great liking for very rare steaks.
"...so eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me." said Fleur happily, plumping up Bill's pillows. "Because ze British overcook their meat, I 'ave always said this."
"Very lucky indeed Miss Delacour." Y/n said humouring her.
"I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is going to marry her." sighed Ginny later that evening, as she, Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione sat beside the open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking out over the twilit grounds.
"She's not that bad." said Harry. "Ugly, though." he added hastily, as Ginny raised her eyebrows, and she let out a reluctant giggle.
"Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, I can."
"Anyone else we know died?" Ron asked Hermione, who was perusing the Evening Prophet.
Hermione was sat back on Y/n in the same chair winced at the forced toughness in Ron's voice.
"No." she said reprovingly, folding up the newspaper. "They're still looking for Snape, but no sign..."
"Of course there isn't." said Harry, who became angry every time this subject cropped up. "They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they've never managed to do that in all this time..."
Y/n just mused on Dumbledore's death. He was unsure why but something about his death greatly bothered him. It seemed all too easy and perfect to achieve. But he soon understood that this was probably just his biased view of the greatest wizard he had ever known...
"I'm going to go to bed." yawned Ginny. "I haven't been sleeping that well since...well...I could do with some sleep."
She kissed Harry as Ron looked away pointedly, waved at the other two and departed for the girls' dormitories.
The moment the door had closed behind her, Hermione leaned forward towards Harry with a most Hermione-ish look on her face. "Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library..."
"R. A. B. ?" said Harry, sitting up straight.
Ever since Harry had shown them the note in inside the locket Hermione and Y/n had been rushing off to the library a little more often than was strictly necessary for somebody who had no homework to do.
"No." she said sadly. "Y/n and I have been trying, Harry, but we haven't found anything... there are a couple of reasonably well-known wizards with those initials. Rosalind Antigone Bungs... Rupert "Axebanger" Brookstanton ...but they don't seem to fit at all. Judging by that note, the person who stole the Horcrux knew Voldemort, and I can't find a shred of evidence that Bungs or Axebanger ever had anything to do with him ...no, actually, it's about ...well, Snape."
She looked nervous even saying the name again.
"What about him?" asked Harry heavily, slumping back in his chair.
"Well, it's just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince business." she said tentatively.
"D'you have to rub it in, Hermione? How do you think I feel about that now?"
"No...no...Harry, I didn't mean that!" she said hastily, looking around to check that they were not being overheard. "It's just that I was right about Eileen Prince once owning the book. You see ... she was Snape's mother!"
"I thought she wasn't much of a looker." said Ron. Hermione ignored him.
"I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she'd given birth to a..."
"...murderer." spat Harry.
"Well...yes." said Hermione. "So...I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being "half a Prince", you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it said in the Prophet."
"Yeah, that fits." said Harry. "He'd play up the pure-blood side so he could get in with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them...he's just like Voldemort. Pure-blood mother, Muggle father... ashamed of his parentage, trying to make himself feared using the Dark Arts, gave himself an impressive new name...Lord Voldemort...the Half-Blood Prince...how could Dumbledore have misse..."
He broke off, looking out of the window.
"I still don't get why he didn't turn you in for using that book." said Ron. "He must've known where you were getting it all from."
"He would have known Ron." said Y/n.
"When I used Sectumsempra. He didn't really need Legilimency...he might even have known before then, with Slughom talking about how brilliant I was at Potions...shouldn't have left his old book in the bottom of that cupboard, should he?" Harry said bitterly.
"But why didn't he turn you in?" Ron said still not understanding.
"Because he did not want to associate himself with that book." Y/n said.
Hermione nodded. "I don't think Dumbledore would have liked it very much if he'd known. And even if Snape pretended it hadn't been his, Slughorn would have recognized his writing at once. Anyway, the book was left in Snape's old classroom, and I'll bet Dumbledore knew his mother was called 'Prince'."
"I should've shown the book to Dumbledore." said Harry. "All that time he was showing me how Voldemort was evil even when he was at school, and I had proof Snape was, too..."
"'Evil' is a strong word." said Hermione quietly.
"You were the one who kept telling me the book was dangerous!"
"I'm trying to say, Harry, that you're pulling too much blame on yourself. I thought the Prince seemed to have a nasty sense of humour, but I would never have guessed he was a potential killer..."
"None of us could've guessed Snape would...you know." said Ron.
"That is because we viewed him as Professor Snape of the Order...not Snape the Death Eater." Y/n said grimly.
Silence fell between them, each of them lost in their own thoughts, but Y/n was sure that they, like him, were thinking about the following morning, when Dumbledore's body would be laid to rest. It had only been a year since he had attended his grandmother's funeral, but he had been too grief-stricken to even register what was going on around him. Harry had no funeral to attend to with Sirius as there had been no body to bury when he had died.
Y/n rose early the next day, As he sat up in bed he saw that he was not the only one to be awake at this hour, the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral and many of the students needed to pack. When he had gone to bed the night before he had packed his trunk.
Y/n just sat in his bed and looked around the dorm room that had been his and Noctis's home the past six years. She was sat in his lap curled up larger than ever before but purring happily away as he gently stroked her fur. As Y/n looked around he thought back on the many memories that had been made in this room. Christmas's spent with Hermione, Harry and Ron, The many arguments that had taken place too of course but no matter what, Y/n always felt sad to leave Gryffindor tower.
After a few moments of reflecting, he slowly climbed out of his bed, much to Noctis's annoyance. He pulled his trunk out from under his bed and opened it taking out the suit he had worn earlier in the school year. When he bought it he had no idea it would be worn for an occasion such as today.
Once dressed he turned to see Harry and Ron had done the same, Not one of them said a word as they left to the dorm room to meet Hermione who inevitably was waiting for them in the common room.
Hermione was indeed waiting for the three in the common room in dress robes as were all the other students who lingered in here. She didn't say a word as they approached, no one needed to today. Y/n simply slipped his hand into hers to let her know he was here with her.
The mood in the Great Hall was subdued. Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry. Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table empty. Hagrid's chair was deserted too, Y/n wondered if perhaps the giant had not been able to face breakfast, but Snape's place had been unceremoniously filled by Rufus Scrimgeour whose yellowish eyes scanned the Hall undoubtedly for Harry. Among Scrimgeour's entourage Y/n spotted the red hair and horn-rimmed glasses of Percy Weasley. Ron gave no sign that he was aware of Percy, apart from stabbing pieces of kipper with unwonted venom.
Over at the Slytherin table Crabbe and Goyle were muttering together. Hulking boys though they were, they looked oddly lonely without the figures of Malfoy and Atticus between them, bossing them around. Y/n's thoughts turned to Atticus now. He had seen for himself Atticus's nature and he knew that with time it would only grow worse. Atticus had always been ambitious, desperate to make himself known. Having seen the young Tom Riddle and how he had wanted to stand out worried Y/n if Atticus would turn out the same way. But Y/n knew the answer. Atticus would do anything to be recognized. Y/n had no choice regarding his future with Atticus. He had to put an end to him before it was too late.
Y/n's thoughts were interrupted as he felt Hermione take his hand and gently squeeze it. He looked to see Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at once.
"It is nearly time." she said. "Please follow your Heads of House out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."
They filed out from behind their benches in near silence. Y/n glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing magnificent long emerald-green robes embroidered with silver. He had never seen Professor Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean, there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached the Entrance Hall, they found Madam Pince standing beside Filch, she in a thick black veil that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie reeking of mothballs.
They were heading, as Y/n saw when he stepped out onto the stone steps from the front doors, towards the lake. The warmth of the sun caressed his face as they followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran down the centre of them, there was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It was the most beautiful summer's day.
An extraordinary assortment of people had already settled into half of the chairs, shabby and smart, old and young. Most Y/n did not recognize, but there were a few that he did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, her hair miraculously returned to vividest pink, Remus Lupin, with whom she seemed to be holding hands much to Y/n small delight on this day, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragonskin. Then there was Madame Maxime, who took up two-and-a-half chairs on her own, Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, the hairy bass player from the wizarding group the Weird bisters, Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight Bus, Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in Diagon Alley, and some people whom Y/n merely knew by sight, such as the barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley on the Hogwarts Express. The castle ghosts were there too, barely visible in the bright sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering insubstantially in the gleaming air.
Harry, Ron, Y/n, Hermione and Ginny filed into seats at the end of a row beside the lake. People were whispering to each other, it sounded like a breeze in the grass, but the birdsong was louder by far. The crowd continued to swell, with a great rush of appreciation for both of them, Y/n saw Neville being helped into a seat by Luna. They alone of all the DA had responded to Hermione's summons the night that Dumbledore had died, and Y/n knew why, they were the ones who had missed the DA most...probably the ones who had checked their coins regularly in the hope that there would be another meeting.
Cornelius Fudge walked past them towards the front rows, his expression miserable, twirling his green bowler hat as usual, Y/n next recognised Rita Skeeter, who, he was infuriated to see, had a notebook clutched in her red-taloned hand, and then, with a worse jolt of fury, Dolores Umbridge, an unconvincing expression of grief upon her toadlike face, a black velvet bow set atop her iron-coloured curls. At the sight of the centaur Firenze, who was standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she gave a start and scurried hastily into a seat a good distance away.
The staff were seated at last. Y/n could see the Minister looking grave and dignified in the front row with Professor McGonagall. He wondered whether Scrimgeour or any of these important people were really sorry that Dumbledore was dead. But then he heard music, strange otherworldly music and he looked around for the source of it. He was not the only one, many heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed.
And then he saw them, in the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, a chorus of merpeople singing in a strange language he did not understand, their pallid faces rippling, their purplish hair flowing all around them. The music made the hair on Y/n's neck stand up and yet it was not unpleasant. It spoke very clearly of loss and of despair. As he looked down into the wild faces of the singers he had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for Dumbledore's passing.
He turned his head back now and could see Hagrid was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars, was what he knew to be Dumbledore's body. A sharp stinging pain rose in his eye's at this sight, for a moment, the strange music and the knowledge that Dumbledore's body was so close seemed to take all warmth from the day. Harry looked just as stricken while Ron looked white and shocked. Tears were falling thick and fast into both Ginny and Hermione's laps. Y/n put his hand on Hermione's knee to give her support and she put her hand on top of his intertwining their fingers.
They could not see clearly what was happening at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises that drew scandalised looks from some, including, Y/n saw, Dolores Umbridge...but Y/n knew that Dumbledore well enough to know he would not have cared. Harry tried to make a friendly gesture to Hagrid as he passed, but Hagrid's eyes were so swollen it was a wonder he could see where he was going. Y/n glanced at the back row to which Hagrid was heading and realized what was guiding him, for there, dressed in a jacket and trousers each the size of a small marquee, was the giant Grawp, his great ugly boulder-like head bowed, docile, almost human. Hagrid sat down next to his half-brother and Grawp patted Hagrid hard on the head, so that his chair legs sank into the ground. It almost made Y/n want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But then the music stopped and he turned to face the front again.
A little tufty-haired man in plain black robes had got to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body. Y/n could not hear what he was saying. Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of beads. "Nobility of spirit"..."intellectual contribution"..."greatness of heart" ...it did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Y/n had come to known him. He soon remembered Dumbledore's words on his first night at Hogwarts. "Nitwit", "oddment", "blubber" and "tweak", and again, he had to suppress a grin that would surely come with tears.
There was a soft splashing noise to their left and Y/n saw that the merpeople had broken the surface to listen, too. He remembered Dumbledore crouching at the water's edge two years ago, very close to where they now sat, and conversing in Mermish with the Merchieftainess. Y/n wondered where Dumbledore had learned Mermish. There was so much he had never asked him, so much he should have asked...
Hot tears began spilling from his eyes now as he looked towards the Forest, as the little man in black droned on... there was movement among the trees. The centaurs had come to pay their respects, too. They did not move into the open but Y/n saw them standing quite still, half-hidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their bows hanging at their sides.
The little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Y/n waited for somebody else to get to their feet, he expected speeches, probably from the Minister, but nobody moved.
Then several people screamed. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it lay, higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes, Y/n thought, for one heart-stopping moment, that he saw a phoenix fly joyfully into the blue, but next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's body and the table on which he had rested.
There were a few more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they fell far short of the crowd. It was, Y/n knew, the centaurs' tribute, he saw them turn tail and disappear back into the cool trees. Likewise the merpeople sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view.
Y/n looked at Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Ron's face was screwed up as though the sunlight was blinding him. Ginny was no longer crying, she and Harry just looked at one another. Hermione's face however was glazed with tears and he took her head into his hand now gently stroking her hair, she rested her head upon his shoulder and continued to sob onto it.
He saw Harry get up, turning his back on Ginny and on Dumbledore's tomb and walk away around the lake. He decided not to follow but to instead give Harry a moment as he put his focus on Hermione.
Y/n just looked at Dumbledore's coffin for a moment as his tears dried up now.
"Can't he just leave Harry alone today..." He soon heard Ron say and Y/n heard Hermione sniffle and raise her head. The three of them turned to see Scrimgeour was talking to Harry who did not look to be in the mood.
"Come on." Hermione said getting up first.
Y/n got up next putting his arm around her waist as they slowly ebbed towards Harry with Ron until finally Scrimgeour turned and walked away from Harry. Harry turned and walked slowly on so they increased their pace to catch up him, which they finally did in the shade of a beech tree under which they had sat in happier times.
"What did Scrimgeour want?" Hermione whispered.
"Same as he wanted at Christmas." shrugged Harry. "Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy."
Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly, "Look, let me go back and hit Percy!"
"No, Ron." Y/n said calmly.
"It'll make me feel better!" Ron said.
Harry and Y/n laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though her smile faded as she looked up at the castle.
"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back." she said softly. "How can Hogwarts close?"
"Maybe it won't." said Ron. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"
"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen." said Harry.
Ron gaped at him, but Hermione said sadly. "I knew you were going to say that.
"What will you do?" Y/n asked him.
"I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to." said Harry. "But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."
"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?" Hermione asked.
"I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow." Harry muttered. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."
"That would be nice for you..." Y/n said understanding why Harry would want to go there.
"And then what?" said Ron.
"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?" said Harry, his eyes upon Dumbledore's white tomb, reflected in the water on the other side of the lake. "That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right...and I'm sure he was...there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape along the way," he added. "So much the better for me, so much the worse for him."
There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of grief were still echoing across the water.
"We'll be there, Harry." said Ron.
"What?" Harry said.
"At your aunt and uncle's house." said Ron. "And then we'll go with you, wherever you're going."
Y/n nodded in agreement.
"No..." said Harry quickly, he had not counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone.
"You said to us once before." said Hermione quietly. "That there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"
"I have already told McGonagall I am postponing my application as a teaching assistant. You are not getting rid of us that easily Harry." Y/n said.
"We're with you whatever happens." said Ron. "But, mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?" Ron told him.
Harry looked at him, startled, the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.
"Yeah, we shouldn't miss that." he said finally.
His hand closed automatically around the fake Horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron, Y/n and Hermione.