Juniper stared at her reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the person who stared back at her. An image of stranger, dressed in clothes that she should never have had to buy. Not yet, anyways.

But here she was, head to toe in black. A simply cut dress, long sleeve with an open back. It wasn't ugly by any means. It just felt wrong. It all did. Her hair straightened and held back with a simple black ribbon that disappeared in her raven locks. Her black ballet flats, stiff around her toes. She'd never worn them before. Even her black stockings, they were itchy, and far less sheer than what she usually preferred.

Then again, maybe it wasn't the clothes making Juniper comfortable, but the occasion. What it meant. The finality of it all. Time to move on, her black dress was saying. It's really over after today, the itchy stockings echoed.

Juniper peered out her old bedroom window, there was a shimmering gold tent set up out back, interwoven with pansies. Her mother's favourite flower. Underneath it sat rows of chairs.

It was a stunning day, fresh snow glittering like a jewel below. That was no accident. Her mum loved the snow. Had loved the snow.

"You ready?" Teddy rapped his knuckles softly on her open door, leaning against the frame.

Juniper bit her lip, "Not really," She shoved her hand in the pocket of her dress, rubbing her thumb over the cool metal chain. It had been the one thing of her mum's that Juniper had wanted. The necklace her grandmother had given to Miranda. It had been passed through the family for decades. Juniper kept it on her person at all times.

"That's okay," Teddy laced his fingers through hers. "I'll be with you the whole time."

"Promise?"

Teddy tilted her chin up for a kiss, "Always."

"Oh, perfect," Rory beckoned the couple over when she saw them walking down the hall. "Hermione wanted us to get linens for the tables, can you help?"

"Sure," Juniper obliged, grateful for a distraction.

Rory and James stood beneath a patch of ceiling, a door that led to the attic. Juniper hadn't been in the attic in ages. The Potters rarely used it. But that must be where the nice linens were. The one that went untouched due to the relative messy nature of her family.

Juniper pulled down the rickety stepladder with a huff, coughing as a huge cloud of dust was released. She looked at her other three friends expectantly, "So who wants to go up? We probably need at least two people to carry everything."

"In the attic?" James asked, eyeing the dark space above.

"Yes," Juniper's forehead furrowed. "Why?"

James shuffled his feet nervously, "Just— there's like spiders and shit up there."

"And you know," Teddy added, scratching his head, "er— I have a really severe allergy to— to dust. So you know for my safety..."

Rory and Juniper glanced at each other lips twitching.

"No, we understand," Juniper nodded, smirking. "We get it. You guys are scared. That's alright."

James and Teddy began to protest, "No— no— I'm not scared."

"It's the dust thing—"

"—cobwebs."

"It's kind of cute actually," Rory teased, her and Juniper actually enjoying themselves as they watched the boys squirm.

"We're not scared!"

"You should have just led with that," Juniper grinned.

Rory rolled her eyes, already following Juniper up the ladder, "Babies."

"I think they're in that box over there," she pointed at a pile of junk and things Juniper knew hadn't seen the light of day in years, hidden in a corner.

Juniper's gaze fell on a a pair of dingy, white ice skates, her breath hitching. Her irises grew glossy with tears, the rest of the world falling away.

Come skate with me, Junebug

What happens if I fall down?

You get up again.

But it'll hurt.

Maybe for a second, but you're my brave little Junebug. I know you can do it.

James cried.

Yes, he did. And that's okay.

If I fall down, I won't cry.

Is that so?

I'll just try again.

That's my girl.

"Junie?" Rory's soft voice brought her back to reality. Her best friend put a hand on her arm, peering at her, "Are you okay?"

Juniper nodded, sniffing. She blinked her eyes rapidly, "Those skates— they— they were my mum's."

"Oh— Junie— I'm so sorry," Rory apologized, squeezing her hand. "I shouldn't have brought you up here— I didn't relaize—"

"It's fine," Juniper reassured her, shaking her head. "Did you find the linens?"

"Yeah," Rory hefted a pile of them in her arms, passing Juniper an identical set. "This should be enough, I reckon." The cloth had a delicate floral print a bit faded, now Juniper understood why her Aunt Mione had wanted them. These had been used at her parents' wedding. She remembered from the pictures.

"Look at you," James remarked, as the descended from the attic. "Back all safe and unharmed."

"It's almost like there was never anything to be scared about in the first place," Rory arched a pointed brow, mouth tilting up on one side.

"For the hundredth time I was not scared!" James retorted sullenly, pouting. He crossed his arms, "I swear Teddy and I saw a spider the size of my face up there once."

Teddy leaned down to kiss Juniper, but she held up a stern finger, "Ah ah, I've just been in the attic. I wouldn't want your dust allergy to flare up."

He scowled darkly, "I'm so grateful for your concern."

"I'm a caring girlfriend," Juniper shrugged, "what can I say?"

They headed downstairs, the scent of butter and cheese hitting Juniper instantly. Grilled cheeses. Of course. The entire kitchen smelled of them, wrapping her in a warm hug. Her father stood at the stove with her Uncle Matt, flipping another piece of bread. It sizzled as it hit the pan. And there was her Aunt Mione, brewing a pot of tea. Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny at the table folding napkins.

It was odd seeing them there together, all in the kitchen. Exactly how Juniper remembered her childhood, except there was a face missing. A strange feeling washed over her, because Juniper half expected her mother to magically appear.

She didn't.

All five heads turned when the four of them entered the room.

Harry's eyes grew wet, words choked with emotion, "Junebug— you look beautiful."

"Thanks, Dad." Juniper hugged him, and he ruffled her hair like he used to when she was little. She knew it must hurt Harry to look at them sometimes.

Her and her mother's freckles. James, whose eyes matched Miranda's exactly, rosy cheeks and dimples. Vanessa who looked so much like their mum, that McGonagall often slipped and called her Miranda. Even Cali, who had always been the perfect combination of Harry and Miranda, had her upturned nose. Their mum was reflected in all of them, tiny pieces of her left behind.

They were her legacy.

In more ways than one...

The funeral itself was a quiet affair, surprising for how many people had attended. Her mother had touched so many lives. More than Juniper had known. She recognized most faces, Luna, Neville, Evelyn and Sirius, Professor McGonagall, Dean and Seamus, every Weasley in existence, Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Henry, Susan Bones, Isabel and Alex. The list went on.

Everyone had lost someone. A wife, a mother, a sister, a best friend, a soulmate, twin flame, niece, savior. Miranda had been everything. Everything. And now everything had become nothing.

The service was beautiful, Juniper thought her mother would have enjoyed it quite a bit. As she raised her wand, she wondered if her mother was watching right now. Maybe she was with Juniper's grandparents, finally reunited with her own mother. Juniper liked that idea. It was nice to imagine her mother sipping a mug of coffee, protecting all of them even after she was gone.

Juniper walked across the snow covered grass, her toes were numb, but she didn't care. She pulled her coat tighter around her, staring at the moving wall of images before her. It was her Mum, snapshots of her life.

Some she'd seen before, like the one of Miranda with blue hair, or the one of them all in the common room when they were teenagers. Others dated far back as to when Miranda was a baby. One of her sitting in her mum's lap playing with a stuffed bunny. Another of her and Juniper's uncle in a sandbox.

Mostly though the pictures were of her when she was a teenager at Hogwarts. Laughing, dancing, kissing Harry. A candid photo caught Juniper's attention. It was her mum at around fifteen or so, sitting by the Black Lake, feet dangling in the water making ripples. She was smiling slightly, afternoon light washing her face in a golden glow. She was stunning, even when she didn't know her picture was being taken.

But that wasn't what Juniper noticed. Harry was in the photo too, off to the side a little bit, skipping rocks with Ron and Ginny. However, his eyes were locked on Miranda. In fact, in almost every photo of Harry and Miranda, even the silly ones, her father couldn't tear his gaze away from her mum. And the look in his eyes, well, it was pure, unadulterated love.

Her parents had had true love, showed her what that word really meant. Juniper hoped she could follow in their footsteps.

The hardest photos to look at were the ones after her and James had been born. They looked so happy, whole. It hurt to remember how that felt, pictures provoking emotions that made Juniper's heart shrivel.

One day that would be all that was left. Pictures.

One day Juniper would forget what her mum smelled like, how her laugh sounded, the chastising tone of her voice when she wanted Juniper to take her hair out of a ponytail. She'd know of course. She'd know that her mom smelled like lavender and freshly baked cookies. But there would come a day when her nose would not be able to smell it. When she couldn't feel the touch of her mother's fingertips on her cheek, hear the joy behind her laughter.

And maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad.

Maybe one day she could look through these photographs, these captured moments in time, and not want to cry. She could walk through her childhood home without everything reminding her of her loss. One day she would see a grilled cheese and she wouldn't automatically think of her mum.

Over time, she suspected, the gaping hole in her life would fill. Patch itself up. That was what healing was, right? Closure. Acceptance. Juniper hoped she wouldn't have to sacrifice her memories along the way.

"She'd be so proud of you, Junebug," her dad sidled up next to her. "But you know— she would want you to be happy. Are you sure—?"

Juniper closed her eyes, inhaling, "Never been more sure of anything in my life."

"You'd be giving up— a lot. I know that it was your dream..."

Juniper had resigned from the Falmouth Falcons. A temporary break had turned into a permanent one. Why? Because she was becoming an Auror. Her and James, the legacy twins. Mateo had retired, he said it didn't feel right without his sister. They'd always been a team. And with Ginny stepping down and becoming a sports writer, it just made sense. They were settling down, and there were two Auror slots to fill.

Juniper hadn't come to the decision lightly, but really how could she say no? Dreams changed. And this was what she wanted. Not for her mum, but for herself.

"This is my destiny," Juniper replied. She nudged her father lightly, "We're Potters right? Saving the world is kinda our thing."

Be strong, Juniper.

Be strong.

short funeral chap

we are almost to the end

scary

fun fact! i had the ideas for this chapter layed out in timeline under the title:

*funeral depression everyone's gonna hate me*

descriptive, i know

anyways, i love you all

thoughts------------------------>

xoxo,

colleen