Harry awoke from a long sleep, a long year, to find himself stretched out in the bed that once belonged to him in Gryffindor Tower. Though his eyes were closed, Harry knew exactly where he was and supposed it was late in the afternoon; the sunlight coming through the windows was weak. He selfishly wondered if anyone else had been using this bed during what would have been his last year at Hogwarts. And then, for the first time, wondered what home would like from this day forward. He pushed that difficult thought aside, there would be time to think about such things. For now, how wonderful it was to rest! How wonderful not to fear!
Without warning, the silent rejoicing of The Boy Who Lived was interrupted.
Someone else was in the room: two someones. Harry heard the familiar whisperings of his two best friends. He quickly realized not all of the secret conversations Ron and Hermione had back when they were tent-dwellers had been about the failings of their friend as a leader.
Before he overheard more than he wanted, Harry sat up on his bed and teased, "Oi, could you two give it a rest! Some of us are trying to sleep after saving the world!"
Hermione sat with her legs dangling off the side of Ron's bed, her head close to Ron's. They looked as if they had been keeping watch over him, but got distracted.
"Blimey! You've been asleep for twenty-four hours!" exclaimed Ron. "We thought Voldemort had killed you after all." Just hearing Ron say Voldemort again made Harry realize it was over, forever.
"Harry, you've never looked more peaceful sleeping," said Hermione kindly, glaring at Ron. "Guess you won't be having anymore of those visions."
Harry thought about this for a moment as he stretched and yawned and put on his glasses. "It's morning? Twenty-four hours, huh? What'd I miss?"
"Oh not much," Ron began. "Minister Shacklebolt restored Azkaban with the help of most of the Order. All the Unforgivable Curses are unforgivable again and punishable by law. Kingsley's also been giving notices of upcoming trials to the remaining Death Eaters including Malfoy Sr. as well as Ministry goons like Thicknesse, Umbridge, and Runcorn, so that should be some good entertainment. The Aurors are reinstated, and they've been capturing Dementors. And Professor McGonagall has been named Headmistress of Hogwarts."
"Oh, 's that all?" Harry asked beaming.
"Well, Hermione snogged me a few more times. Does that count?"
"Ronald Weasley!" she yelled, hitting him out of necessity and blushing.
"Well, you did." Ron said plainly, "and it's just Harry."
"I'm going back to bed," moaned Harry, already under the covers.
"Actually Harry," said Hermione, "that's why we're here. We've been sent to make sure you don't miss the, uh, event today."
No matter how delicately Hermione tried to say it, Harry knew what the 'event' would entail. He thought of Ginny. As Harry eased back out of the covers and stood onto the floor, he looked at Ron. Ron was now concentrating intensely on the tips of his shoes hanging off the bed. The grin that had covered his face seconds ago had been wiped clean with the remembrance of all they had lost.
Harry stepped forward and hugged him, "I loved Fred like a brother, too. I'm so sorry." Stunned, Ron hesitated, but then embraced his best friend, and hard. Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
After a moment Hermione said, "We'll leave you to clean up, Harry. Everyone will be out by the lake in about an hour." With tears in her eyes, she took Ron's hand and led him out of the room.
Harry washed quickly and found clean dress robes laid out on the dresser. They reminded him of the robes that appeared from nowhere in the whiteness, and he thought of Dumbledore. Next to the robes was a plate of breakfast and a glass of pumpkin juice. Harry silently thanked Kreacher as he devoured the food. Kreacher made him think of Dobby...
Harry threw himself onto the bed in frustration. Was the rest of the day, the rest of his life, going to be like this? Memory after memory forcing him to recall just how many brave and innocent people had died, how many people he loved had died. Is this how Voldemort would win in the end: by causing so much sorrow people could not enjoy the freedom they had just won? Tears would not come yet, but his body felt weighty and beaten though moments ago he woke up refreshed.
With great effort, Harry lumbered to the stairs. He looked back and was thankful for his first real home, but his heart was heavy.
He tried to steady himself as he walked down the staircase. He knew people would want to speak to him, to discuss the battle, to talk about the adventures of the past year, to be encouraging to others. He could not let his grief win. Harry Potter had to be strong.
Then he saw her, and all was lost. Beautiful Ginny was sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room.
"Hermione told me you were awake," she said looking up, tear stains on her face.
There was so much he wanted to tell her. How many times he had thought of her, worried for her safety, watched her dot, that she had comforted him before he surrendered. But now was not the time.
"I'm here," was all he could muster as he kissed the top of her head.
Silence passed between them. They both stared at the ground deep in thought. Harry, at a loss for what to do next, sat beside her on the couch. His presence was all it took to evoke gut wrenching sobs from Ginny, the strongest girl he knew. This surprised him, and Harry could no longer contain himself; he was weeping too. Weeping for all who had died: Dumbledore, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Lupin, Dobby, Hedwig, Colin, Cedric, Fred, Snape, and his parents. And weeping for all of those who were left behind, including orphaned Teddy and the Weasleys. Neither could guess how many wretched minutes passed between them. Harry felt as though he lived the entirety of the previous day in those sad moments in the common room.
He put his arm around Ginny, and she buried her face in her hands. Her crying became louder, and the sound of her suffering hurt him worse than his own.
"When Fred died," she said between sobs, "I thought my heart was broken."
"I know, I know," he said shushing her and rubbing her back.
"No listen, Harry," Ginny said pulling away from him and looking at him with swollen eyes. "When Fred died, I thought my heart was broken. My brother, my big brother..." she trailed off.
Harry waited.
"And then there were more, Lupin and Tonks, and I thought I had nothing left. Everyone who was alive was hurt. I was so angry at Voldemort, at evil, that's the only way I managed to get through the night, becoming fiery mad—so scared someone else would get hurt—or worse—if I slowed down. I had to fight, but I was numb." Ginny paused and gathered strength, "But when I saw Hagrid..." and her sobs resumed.
He knew. Harry understood the source of her misery.
"I thought...I thought," she began, gasping for breath between words. "There you were, limp in his arms, and Voldemort was saying horrible things... Harry, I died."
An explosion of pain went off in Harry's stomach and he pulled her close. "Ginny, we're okay...I'm here...We made it...It's over now. I don't know what I would have done if you—that's why I had to leave you behind—we're together now, all right?"
After a few moments, she straightened. "I just feel guilty. Guilty I'm here and Fred's not. Even guilty you're here and others aren't."
The weight of these words hung in the air for several seconds. Harry knew from the deaths of both Sirius and Dumbledore how poisonous guilt could be. "I think we should feel honored," Harry said quietly as he met her gaze. "Honored that our friends and family loved us enough to sacrifice themselves for us, for a cause, and for people they didn't even know. Honored, not guilty, okay?"
Wiping her eyes, Ginny nodded. They both knew he was right, but it was hard to ignore the injustice of death.
After a few more minutes of just holding her, Harry stood, pulled Ginny to her feet and said "Well, I don't know about you, but this puts me in the mood for the largest, grandest funeral the Wizarding world has ever seen." They both laughed, and it felt good to laugh.
They crawled through the doorway from their beloved common room, hand in hand, and bid goodbye to the Fat Lady for the last time.