Author's note: All rights belong to the 'holier than thou' J.K Rowling. Follows from the end of The Deathly Hallows (not the nineteen years later epilogue though), reasonably canon but may drift. All responses are welcome, please review I beg of you.
Chapter one: isn't this nice?
After the war ended there was this brief period of, nonchalance, would be the best way to describe it.
The deaths were staggering and the ministry was corrupt, although the light had won they didn't really have a contingency plan other than defeating the bad guys, after that there was nothing but naïve hope. In this short time there was almost more fear than throughout the entire war because frankly no one had a clue. The injured were in hospitals, the dead were prepared for burial, the hidden went home, the captured opposition went to Azkaban and the others hid from their inevitable prosecution, and then everyone just kind of froze. People knew the good guys had won and most were pleased, yet the question remained, what the fuck do we do now? The Order didn't know how to deal with the ministry, were they in charge now or what? They wanted equality for everyone but were they allowed to just give the wizarding world new rules and tell them to deal with it?
Yes, the answer turned out to be. Within days Kingsley was Minister of Magic without anything resembling a democratic vote, turns out if you kill a ton of deatheaters people respect you, not that anyone thought for a second that Kingsley would have lost an election. With the brutality of the final battle and the dense period that followed even the many prejudices at the ministry were welcoming any form of leadership, a figure to follow who wasn't a teenager with a muggle haircut.
The great thing about Kingsley was that he wasn't anything if not logical, as opposed to strutting in and shouting "Hug a hufflepuff!", he set his focus to the immediate needs; mainly hiring and firing, the most favourable being the beautiful moment when the toad known as Dolores Umbridge found herself in the now dementor-free Azkaban, in a cell which the ever witty aurors had painted pink all over and covered in cat posters, fat and deformed cats.
All those left in power with issues to the Order's beliefs kept them firmly to their own consciences and were just grateful for the returning feel of normality and control. Well the new sense of normality that was…
Process was slow but met with no obligation and everyone was willing to be patient, within weeks the ministry was gradually falling back into place and the new rules were easing their way into the fundamentals of wizarding society. Hogwarts was to be rebuilt as soon as possible and even with magic that was going to take a minimum of six months, the good news however was that Minerva would be headmistress whenever the next term actually came around. The ways of the Order were being accepted everywhere in the United Kingdom with the exception of Knockturn alley, not that anyone really gave a goblin's arse about the inhabitants of that cess pit. What? Even the Golden Trio's hearts could stretch so wide.
It was the fourth month of the recovery when Harry considered himself well enough to help others, the deaths in the war all struck a personal cord with him and the guilt that consumed the young man was suffocating.
He held himself responsible for every life lost, every scar both physical and mental, every family ripped apart. He had carried the war on his shoulders and it finally took its toll, his spine began to bend with the weight and he could feel the snap of each vertebra as his muscles gave way and the boy that lived fell to grief. It was hard, not just for Harry but for those around him; the first week was the worst, his infamous anger took over and he smashed everything in sight, talking to him was suicide and he spent his days alone in the ex-Dursley residence breaking things and crying.
After the anger was gone the sadness dived on him like a predator, the Weasleys moved him into the burrow which had effectively become the grief home.
Although he was extremely distant and unstable for the first few weeks Harry learnt the benefit of shared grief, whatever he felt he could say without needing to articulate because the others got it, they just knew. The next two months were spent sharing thoughts, memories, attending funerals, and being a family. There was no question to either Harry or Hermione about who their family was, even though Mione's parents had been brought back to reality and were more than forgiving to their daughter they hadn't known the war, the Weasleys were dealing with such heavy losses but didn't hesitate for a second to bring the their un-official extra children into open arms. The funerals and memorials were agony for the survivors but they found a way to deal with each death, for example Harry dealt with Sirius's, Remus' and Tonks' demise by swearing to be an outstanding Godfather to Teddy, he also took a little joy in the death of Bellatrix. He knew that wasn't how to deal with the murder of loved ones but it was fair to say most of Europe were grateful to Molly Weasley, who was being held as one of the greatest war heroes of the second wizarding world war.
Harry had always bottled up his emotions and falling apart wasn't easy for him but there was no denying without doing so he couldn't have overcome the aftermath of, well his entire early life.
In the end he knew focusing on the good memories and all he still had no matter how clichéd was the best way to cure himself, and he did. Only by allowing himself to take all the blame could he see that the blame wasn't his, he now knew that his over reaction was nothing but an ordinary reaction to be expected of someone in such a position. Once he began to truly feel whole again he felt free of the anger that being Voldemort's horcrux had burdened him with. The world he lived in was becoming light and quickly so, Hogwarts would be opening for the new academic year in three months and the Ministry would start training plus hiring new aurors even sooner. Harry knew being an auror was meant for him, by capturing the remaining deatheaters he was finishing what he started and closure would be the beginning for him. He and Ginny were taking it steady but serious and once he had a good position in the ministry as an auror they would be married, it one of many things he was certain. The next was that their children would be named in memory of those who were gone but still so close, including they had both decided Severus Snape.
Snape was the biggest guilt for Harry even though he knew that there was no other way that any of their relationship could have been played out; to Harry Severus Snape was the true hero of this war and unarguably the bravest. The Order had seen to it everybody knew the brave sacrifices of the lost professor and spy, he was another hailed hero of the war.
After what was christened the four month asylum stage the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, along with the rest of the grieving party (Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Luna, Neville, the miraculously still alive Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and Gabrielle Delacour) decided to rehabilitate themselves with the rest of the world, a world where they're apparently all celebrities.
They'd expected fame but the tee-shirts were certainly surprise, each of them had a favourite; Ron's and George's was the popular slogan top 'Not my daughter you bitch!', Hermione Angelina Alicia and Luna all favoured the rebellious teen slogan top with the bold print of 'Mudblood and proud.', Neville liked a graphic tee that showed a moody looking cartoon Voldemort sat next to a very dead snake in what appeared to be hell, Bill adored a plain top that showed a cartoon Alistair Moody leaning over a cloud heaven glaring down at some very frightened looking animated deatheaters with writing that read 'Madeye's always watching', Lavender and Parvati were keen on a top that (correctly) stated 'A Malfoy isn't a person it's an STI', Fleur and Gabrielle took an obvious liking to vest top which read 'Veelas do it best', George and Percy modestly favoured a top which simply said 'Weasleys, making gingers sexy since Merlin', Harry and Ginny also modest preferred the top 'The boy who lived to make glasses sexy'.
The Golden Trio were idols and, much to the relief of all involved, despite being cleared from imprisonment charges the Malfoys were not hailed as heroes regardless of Narcissa's saving Harry (he wasn't ungrateful but it was hardly anything to do with saving him, she just wanted her precious son back). Hermione had even forgiven Rita Skeeter for the Triwizard fiasco when she read the headline 'We only like you because you're rich'. Lucius had been placed under house arrest for the next ten years or so and would be running the family business from there, however, his wife and son had fared better, both would take teaching positions at Hogwarts (Narcissa as DADA and Draco as Muggle Studies, how that racist was going to teach the way of muggles in a positive light was a mystery to all) much to the chagrin of the new headmistress. Minerva had reluctantly agreed after she thought of all the ways she could sneakily embarrass them, she would start by retelling the story of Draco and Buckbeak, then accidently let slip about how in her early teaching days she had caught the eldest and youngest black sisters 'experimenting' together, with tongues.
Harry's first concern was of course his best friends, Ron was shaping up good but Hermione had suffered what was considered the worst fate of the war, torture by Bellatrix Lestrange. The carving on her arm would never even fade and was remarkably hard to cover, even with a glamour spell. The genius witch would seem fine all day then toss and scream in her sleep as if she were possessed, the night tremors were horrific and she was undoubtedly the most reluctant when it came to grief. She didn't want to lose control over her emotions but eventually they convinced her just to let it go and they'd never judge her, and boy did she let go. She was hysterical, the young with literally cried a river. She would sob uncontrollably for hours on end until her voice was too hoarse to speak and her tears had drained her of all her body's hydration. The process of recovery was slow but nobody did mind, they only cared for Mione's wellbeing. On the other hand there was one particularly epic moment just after the trial for Draco when Hermione saw Narcissa, and, as opposed to breaking down she slapped the ice queen to kingdom come. The socialite was too slow to respond to the attack and when the younger was finally stopped by her very amused friends the Malfoy was left with a cracked skull, plus an equally damaged ego.
Furious, the aristocratic witch stormed to the auror office to complain about being "Smacked to hell and back" only to be told by the (ever witty) aurors "That it was very nice of Miss Granger to arrange a visit to your sister."
Hermione's recovery had been just about complete a month after his and he was ecstatic for her when she offered job as Arithmancy professor, as long as she agreed not to kill any certain colleagues that was.
Apart from Hermione everyone else seemed to have recovered faster than him and Harry found himself feeling like a bit of melodramatic. It was only when he was complaining to Ron during auror training about feeling rather useless when he realised whom he needed to help, Teddy Lupin. The godson he had sworn to protect, an orphan who would never know his parents but would know love if it was the last thing Harry did.
To say Harry was embarrassed for forgetting about teddy would be an understatement, he was mortified. Fortunately he wasn't alone, for when he brought up the topic of his godson at dinner (with the entire Order and Dumbledore's army) everyone did a double take as if they didn't know who he was rambling on about, only when it hit them did all the elders at the table look very, very guilty. Augusta Longbottom appeared to be glaring at herself if possible, which was a perplexing but scary sight. After what felt like hours, but was only a couple of seconds of awkward silence did an unusually nervous looking Minerva mumble something about nobody having contacted Andromeda after informing her of her daughter and son in law's death. Never had a room full people looked so self-loathing as this one did now.
Andromeda Tonks who had never raised a wand to anyone in offense, who had been kicked out of her family, who'd never made a comment when people insulting told her of her resemblance to her psychotic sister, who'd lost more in this war than anyone else, who had given her entire life to raising a daughter and was now raising another child, completely alone. Everyone had been so busy with what was in front of them they'd let a woman who risked her life for all of them wallow by herself, no human contact for five months while she cared for the child of a daughter now gone. She was living in the home of a husband who lay in a grave, abandoned by those who should have helped her like they helped each other. Harry hoped to God or whoever was listening the middle Black sister would be forgiving.
Augusta volunteered to be the one who contacted the widow on behalf of the Order, the Longbottom matriarch had always been close to her and her guilt was very apparent. She owled the home to notify her wish to visit and promptly apparated there as soon as her owl returned without reading the reply, a reply which Harry had been told was made up of some quite colourful vocabulary. Neville's grandmother was a far from discreet and often intimidating woman so they all assumed if anyone was going to break the ice it would her, she had made it abundantly clear that everyone else should have thought of Andromeda, despite her being closest to the witch. She's getting on a bit and her memory can't be trusted under stress apparently. Nobody dared argue.
Augusta returned late in the evening and quickly made her way to bed; she wasn't in the mood to discuss things at length. Or at all really, before he went to sleep Harry's last thought was hope that her sharp attitude wasn't a reflection of Andromeda's feelings towards them. Hope, lovely as it is, often fails at the hands of truth and logic.
