Prologue: That Evening

9 May 1998

The cracked white marble tomb of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore kept a solitary vigil over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Three quiet figures softly approached, one several paces ahead of the other two, who were clinging tightly to each others' hands. The first figure stopped beside the tomb of the departed headmaster, softly running his hand over the damaged marble, the other two keeping respectfully back. The lone dark-haired young man pulled something out of his pocket and looked into the face of his mentor, rudely exposed by Voldemort's invasion of his final resting place.

"I believe this belongs to you, sir," Harry Potter whispered, returning the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's hands. "Do me a favor and don't let it out of your sight again."

The old wizard didn't reply, nor had Harry expected him to, but somehow he knew that the Elder Wand would be safe, with the man who should rightfully have been its final and undefeated master. In the months since Dumbledore's death, Harry's feelings regarding the late headmaster had been understandably conflicted. His once unquestioned admiration of Dumbledore had been shaken by revelations of many of the mistakes that Dumbledore himself had many times referred to, having gone so far once as to point out that, as a cleverer man than most, his mistakes were "correspondingly huger".

All those bottled up emotions had been over-shadowed in an instant with the revelations that Snape's final memories had brought to Harry. Certainly Dumbledore had made errors in judgment in his long and distinguished life, but his failure to explain all to Harry was born of necessity and love, not connivance. Harry knew that he no longer had anything to prove, to anyone; he had lived up to the opinion of the one man whose opinion mattered more than almost any other.

He stepped back beside Ron and Hermione, and the three best friends pulled wands from their pockets. Harry felt more complete than he had in months, again holding the wand that was rightfully his, newly repaired in the last act of magic the Elder Wand would ever perform. Hermione had never quite believed him when he complained of the blackthorn wand's inappropriateness to him – until she was forced to use the wand of Bellatix Lestrange. She wielded that wand still, and Ron held the wand of the late Peter Pettigrew. Both had left their own wands behind at Malfoy Manor in the hurried escape that cost Dobby his life, and Hermione had never gotten truly spectacular results from Bellatrix's wand.

All three raised their wands, borrowed and repaired, preparing to cast the spell together as they had agreed, when a quiet voice spoke from Harry's shoulder. "Please not yet..."

The three battle-hardened and fatigued friends turned as one, with reflexes born of nearly a year of alternating stealth and combat, prepared to defend themselves against this surprise intruder. A small squeak of surprise emanated from the intruder, and the trio saw only a flash of red hair as their visitor dived to the ground, drawing her own wand and silently casting a very powerful impediment jinx, throwing all three backwards.

All four slowly lifted themselves off the ground, and Ron, breathing heavily, looked at his younger sister, whose features where still blazing in fury. "Bloody hell, Ginny, what were you thinking, sneaking up on us like that?!?"

"Well as you three were wrapped up in yourselves as usual," she retorted, "I can't say I'm surprised you tried to hex me just now."

Hermione, on the other hand, looked impressed despite herself; Ginny had just pulled off some incredibly difficult magic, after all. Even after watching Ginny battle some of the most powerful dark witches and wizards in the world, it was still a simple matter to underestimate the youngest Weasley. Before Hermione could say anything, however, Ginny had pulled two more wands from her robes. "I just thought you might want these back is all," she said, tossing the vinewood and willow wands to Hermione and Ron.

The pair gaped at her, looking down at their old wands in wonder, trying to figure out where Ginny had found the wands that they had left behind at Malfoy Manor weeks before. She saved them the trouble of asking. "Malfoy gave them to me; the Ministry is stripping him and his parents of the privilege to carry wands for now, so he told me to make sure those got back to their rightful owners."

She turned and started to walk away when Harry finally stepped towards her, finding his voice for the first time since she had appeared. "Ginny, I..."

He trailed off as she rounded on him, obviously holding back tears for once. They stared at each other for several long moments, afraid to speak, until she finally spoke, speaking almost inaudibly. "We'll talk later, Harry. Please?"

Confusion and pain was etched in every line of Harry Potter's face, and Ginny turned away guiltily. Harry tried again, despite the fact that he was still unable to come up with anything coherent to say. "Please stay, Ginny? I... I've missed you."

She stepped close to him, eyes blazing. "You've missed me? That's rich, coming from any of you lot. Nine months and not a word! Nine months without seeing or hearing from any of you, and now you have the nerve to say you've missed me?" Tears had finally sprung to her eyes. "We'll talk later, Harry, whenever you three are done with whatever the hell you're doing out here."

Harry stepped back, thunder-struck at this change in her behavior. Swallowing nervously as she once again turned away, he watched the young woman he loved head back to the castle before finally turning back to his two best friends, who were watching him nervously, holding their newly-returned wands in their hands.

Harry nodded to them, unwilling to discuss what had just occurred, and the three turned back to Dumbledore's tomb and cast the spell together.

"Reparo!"

The white marble sealed itself, once again consigning the body of Hogwart's greatest headmaster to the ages.

The three friends, each at least magically whole again, turned towards the castle and followed Ginny's path back, ready to help rebuild the world which they had just fought so hard to save.