It seems that reading too many excellent fics by HalfASlug and thesecondshelf has a bad influence on yours truly. So, here's another fic that sprang out of the ground a week ago- my first post-DH fic. It takes place a few days after the defeat of Tom Riddle, and it contains a potentially lethal dose of Ron/Hermione, and more than a taster of Harry/Ginny. However, as much of the action revolves around just the two of them, Ron and Harry get top billing. Watch out for a beloved object from the first book make a final appearance. Hope you enjoy it :)
The Boggart
Just as Harry and Ginny reached the Entrance Hall, there was from far below a familiar-sounding muffled cry of anguish, followed by the most hideous screaming, the inhuman cacophony of pain that only a well-performed Cruciatus Curse could cause. Harry flinched at the noise that, like Ron, had permeated his nightmares repeatedly since Shell Cottage.
Ginny understood immediately, her eyes locking with his. "Go," she said calmly. Harry withdrew his hand from hers. "He needs you," she whispered. Of course Ginny would understand- Harry had finally told her about the Horcuxes, and what had really happened in the Forbidden Forest just the previous evening- down by the Great Lake shoreline. But what he hadn't told her initially were the events at Malfoy Manor.
He'd had no choice but to reveal what had happened after Ron lurched out of his Dormitory bed early that morning, waking him and Hermione, after yet another nightmare involving Bellatrix. As Hermione rubbed Ron's back soothingly and mumbled words of comfort and reassurance, Harry had no choice but to tell the concerned Ginny downstairs everything.
Harry paused, reluctant to let her go out of his sight even briefly, after the events of the last ten months. But Ginny smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'll still be here when you get back. We'll all still be here from now on. Go."
Harry turned, following Hermione's screams and Bellatrix's yelling.
"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"
"We found it- we found it- PLEASE!"
Harry pelted round the corner….
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!"
"No," came a strangled sob from the office ahead of him. Harry doubled his pace, heart hammering. He descended some stairs, still attempting in vain to block out the sounds that made his stomach churn with guilt, even weeks later…
"Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
Harry ran past the last flaming torch bracket in the dark corridor, and ran into Filch's office. He could see a mass of ginger hair crouched on the floor in anguish, in front of two more figures, one writhing in agony as the other, demented figure hit her with yet another Cruciatus Curse, while tossing a silver knife from left hand to right hand…
He only saw it for a split-second. All the torches were snuffed out as mist filled the room, obscuring from view the figures of Hermione, Bellatrix and Ron. A hoarse, rattling breath made the air catch in his throat and the hairs on the back of his neck freeze. It couldn't be…
As the Dementor moved forward, all logic escaped Harry. Ignoring the distant screaming of not just his parents, but also Hermione and Bellatrix, ringing in his ears like static on a radio, he readied his wand…
"Expecto Patronum!"
But nothing materialized, only a thin, silver mist which was cast aside as the Dementor glided smoothly over Filch's desk, aiming its hidden mouth in his direction as it took another death-rattling breath. Harry was reminded of his first unsuccessful attempts to cast a Patronus with Professor Lupin.
And all the pent-up, hidden guilt came rushing back to him. He could see Lupin and Tonks' peaceful-looking forms in the Great Hall. He could now see Fred's face, hear Percy's anguished screams as Ron desperately tried to pull his elder brother away…
If only he'd cast himself in front of Voldemort's curse sooner…
The faces of those that had died trying to protect him flashed through his head. Colin. Dumbledore. Sirius. Cedric. His parents. The list was endless…
The Dementor closed the gap. Harry knew it would have him in seconds, as his eyes began to ache with exertion and his legs began to turn to water.
However, the mist cleared temporarily, and Harry could now see his best friend, huddled over in the corner and shaking with muffled sobs, but very much alive. Something clicked in his mind. They had all survived this.
And in his mind, he could now again feel Ron and Hermione's arms around him just as Tom Riddle hit the floor. He could feel the rib-crushing embrace of Hagrid. He remembered the shared smiles between him and Ron as they ate sweets on their first ride in…he could see an ecstatically happy Hermione rushing towards him, freshly un-Petrified…him, holding the Quidditch House Cup in the air as the crowd of Gryffindors rushed to him, his two best friends among them…. A shared smile between him, Hermione and Ron, as the pair walked into the Entrance Hall, hand in hand and blushing like tomatoes…the feel of Ginny's lips on his in the Gryffindor Common Room…
"Expecto Patronum!"
An indistinct, silvery fountain burst out of his wand, slowing the Dementor. Its hooded head lowered towards his face….
…And the wand-tip vigorously ignited. The Dementor, its face inches from Harry, was stopped in its tracks. It drew another breath, but sucked on nothing more than silver vapour. Harry, whose legs felt like jelly still, and his wand hand vibrating violently, nevertheless kept his mind focused on those happiest of memories. The Shield Patronus expanded, pushing the flailing Dementor steadily and inexorably backwards as Ron, wiping his eyes, saw what had happened. Now antlers could be seen shimmering indistinctly in the silvery mass.
The Dementor now had hit the back wall, once again sucking in nothing but the force it detested the most- hope. Ron dived forward, keeping his face turned away from the defeated Dementor.
"In here!" he croaked at Harry as he pulled open a decrepit broom cupboard. Harry raised his wand, trapping the Dementor in-between the silvery globe and the wall. He forced the Patronus downwards, dragging the Dementor into the cupboard. Just as Ron shut the cabinet, Harry heard yet another agonizing scream as Ron locked eyes with the Dementor, which began to mutate...
A snap. The cupboard was shut. Harry, still breathing like he'd run a half-marathon, finally clicked what he'd really faced as his Shield Patronus disintegrated.
A Boggart.
Several had entered Hogwarts over the last four days, perhaps attracted by battle survivors' newfangled fears. Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn had been kept busy with the traumatized students, especially due to groups clearing the rubble on abandoned corridors uncovered Boggarts, and running screaming from the scene.
Ron collapsed against the door of the cupboard, shaking uncontrollably as he buried his face in his hands. Harry was reminded of the same, broken Ron who had just destroyed the Locket, all those months ago.
Except for one thing. This time, he could hear the sobs as he realized how much worse Ron's pain was this time. Harry now knew what Ron's new Boggart looked and sounded like.
"So much for Aragog and his children," he muttered, cautiously advancing towards Ron's shaking form. He sat down beside him, and awkwardly placed an arm on his shoulder; Harry had never mastered the knack of comforting Hermione, and as with Ron….Ron was never like this.
At least not before Malfoy Manor.
"Why…" he began hesitantly and quietly, not looking at Ron, "…didn't you tell me you'd be here? Or Ginny? Maybe we could have helped you with it."
Ron wiped his nose, refusing to look at Harry. "It was George," he said in a thick voice. "George couldn't defeat this Boggart, so he got me."
Harry didn't need to say anything. He was nearly certain what form George's Boggart took.
Ron sighed, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
"But the reason I didn't tell George about my Boggart was, well, I'm ashamed."
Harry's green eyes shot up into his overgrown fringe. "Ashamed?" he repeated quizzically. "Why would you be ashamed of what form that Boggart took?" Ron swallowed nervously.
"Well, I feel sort of guilty," he replied, finally getting his tears under some form of control. "For George, Percy, Mum and Dad, they see him die, but slowly and painfully. But me…."
"You were witnessing a loved one..." Harry began, but somehow he couldn't get the word dying out of his mouth, as for about the millionth time, a pang of severe remorse hit him. Him and his motor mouth…
He sighed.
"Ron? You remember what happens when I get near a Dementor? I always heard my parents dying over and over again. Just then….I also heard Hermione. And her," his voice suddenly hardened, remembering it was because of Bellatrix Lestrange that he didn't have a Godfather or Dobby with him anymore.
"Point is," he continued, trying to stop acid in his stomach from boiling over, "Your fears and worst experiences are much like mine. I lost people dear to me that Halloween Night. It nearly happened again." Harry swallowed. He'd never made this confession to Ron or Hermione properly before, but he just needed to get the words out. Ron finally looked up at him.
Harry stared at him directly in the eye, even as his own eyes began to water.
"You and Hermione are the most important individuals in my life, basically family….I nearly lost you two and it was entirely my fault." He opened his mouth to apologize, but Ron, staring at him unusually intensely, beat him to it.
"Stop."
"No, I mean I'm truly, truly sorry at what you both had to go through…"
"Harry," Ron nearly growled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Shut up. You sound like Hermione."
Harry chuckled, but quickly rearranged his face into a serious composure.
"But Ron, about your Boggart….you aren't afraid of death. There is no reason for you to be scared of your brother's death. I heard from Sirius….in the Forest…..dying doesn't hurt. Fear does, as does…." He looked into Ron's eyes, surprised both at how mentioning Sirius no longer hurt, and how Ron seemingly was able to conduct Legilimency, as he nodded in understanding. Harry had only vaguely told Ron and Hermione about what had happened when he used the Resurrection Stone, but oddly enough, he was perfectly comfortable discussing what he'd seen with his best mate in these circumstances.
"….torture, whether physical, or mental."
Ron looked down at his trainers again as Harry gripped his arm fiercely.
"Look Ron. I know you're going to try and stop me, but you can't because I have to say this. I'm sorry. For what both of you had to endure at Malfoy Manor."
The blue found the green, and nodded. There was no need for words. The minutes ticked on, as Harry and Ron sat in companionable silence on the floor of Filch's office.
"So," Ron said, and Harry was glad to see he was smiling. "I agree with you on what you said. You really are part of the Weasley family. Always will be, I suppose…"
"As will Hermione?" Harry stared at him sideways, the side of his mouth betraying a hidden smirk. For about the millionth time, he felt a surge of vindictive pleasure as Ron's face changed colour faster than a traffic light.
"I mean…" Harry began, now unable to stop grinning. "You and I are best mates, she and I are like siblings…. And that contrary to certain unreliable sources, we don't snog or shag behind your backwhen camping…" he playfully elbowed Ron at that one. Ron forcefully shoved him back so he lay sprawling. Picking himself up, Harry continued his line of attack.
"You, of course know the situation with myself and Ginny, and I thank you for your brotherly kindness…" he mockingly bowed to Ron, -"and you and Hermione are…."
"Different," Ron finished, still blushing. Harry sighed exasperatedly. They'd already shared a bed in Gryffindor Tower (completely innocently- Harry had made sure of that), they'd now kissed three times in front of him, and he wondered whether the pair of them were going to stop acting like the embarrassed thirteen year-olds they once were whenever someone spotted them holding hands or pointing out their bloody obvious feelings for one another. Then again, they wouldn't be Ron and Hermione if the embarrassed blushing, the bickering and the awkwardness stopped, Harry reasoned. They'd been at it for more than five years, and they sure weren't going to stop now just because their friendship had….changed.
Come to think of it, he thought, he needed another thing to rib Ron about to distract both of them from Fred's death, as well as the nearly fifty other casualties. Fred, Colin, Remus, Tonks, and all the fallen of Hogwarts had been transported back to the Hogwarts Express- by boat- for the final time yesterday. It had been devastating, watching Mrs. Weasley sob into Mr. Weasley's shoulder, George giving the prone form of Fred a final tearful fist-bump, Percy break down beside Charlie, Bill and Fleur, and to see Ron cry his lungs out onto Hermione's comforting shoulder. The only upside from that day had been more quiet time with Ginny, and seeing Ron's tearstained face turn boiling scarlet as George told Ron he and Fred had a bet on him and Hermione since Second Year. Molly and Arthur Weasley, it turned out, also hadn't exactly been unobservant regarding the not-so-subtle clues as they embraced Ron and Hermione.
Yes, the clues stretched back ages.
"How long did it take you to figure it out in your head? I mean about my 'sister'?" The smirk was obvious in Harry's voice as he put on a fake look of disapproval at Ron.
Ron shrugged, his ears turning red. "Was probably Fourth Year," he muttered, refusing to look at Harry's face out of embarrassment. "It was in class, after she revealed that bloody pumpkin-head had invited her to Bulgaria."
Harry snorted in derision. It had taken Ron that bloody long to realize he fancied her? His best mate really was thicker than a plank of wood.
"Oh, really?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe I was just more observant than you. Try….Second Year? Does the celebratory feast we had ring a bell to you? You were certainly eager to get out of your seat when she came rushing in."
Ron's mouth dropped to form a perfect 'o' of indignation. "I was worried when she was Petrified. We all were! Weren't you pleased when she came rushing in?"
"Maybe," Harry snorted derisively. "But I certainly don't remember looking as if dessert had come early. And I for the love of me can't remember having such a fascinating handshake like you two had."
Checkmate. Ron had been floored.
"You know," Ron sighed. "I don't remember you being so damn annoying when we had the conversation after the Locket."
"Comes with saving my life, mate," Harry laughed. "But now, I can look back and say I'm flattered by your imagination, as well as disgusted."
"What?" Ron asked suspiciously. "Flattered?"
"I'm flattered that you thought I looked so handsome," he winked at Ron, who glared at him stonily for three seconds.
Then, right on cue, they burst out laughing. There was a sudden explosion as the hidden Boggart detonated, casting the office into a smoky darkness.
"Reminds me of Lupin," Ron sighed happily. "Good old innocent days of spider boggarts."
Harry looked over to see that, much to his relief, Ron still looked amused.
A glimmer of light caught his eye. It was nearly sunset, and the full moon was rising above the hill opposite, spilling light into the office. Harry smiled to himself, remembering how healthy and happy Remus Lupin looked when he'd called him with the Resurrection Stone. "Something tells me that he's sort of still with us," he said quietly. Ron agreed in contentment.
There was a loud 'meow' from the corridor outside. The noise had alerted Mrs. Norris.
"Run!" Harry hissed at Ron as they both rocketed out of the office. Some things never changed.
"Let's find Hermione in the Common Room," he puffed as he tried to keep up with Ron's longer strides as his friend rocketed ahead of him. "Just like First Year, eh?"
"Good idea. But unlike in First Year, she's now sorted out her priorities," Ron called back.
Harry laughed. "I don't know about that," he called back. "I mean, she snogged you in a war zone, of all places."
Ron swore, aimed his wand backwards at Harry and a jet of green flew towards him. Not a Killing Curse, but something far more innocent- the slug-eating hex. Harry parried it easily, laughing yet again.
Some things never changed, he mused yet again, and the Trio's friendship was one of them.
...
The Mirror
Ron ran past the open door to the abandoned, empty classroom. He jumped as he saw his reflection staring back at him. Harry stopped short of the door.
"Ron? What are you…."
But Ron pointed into the room.
Harry stepped into the room, and saw a most familiar mirror lying on the wall in front of him. The same embroidery. The same phrases on its sides. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Except the image of the Mirror of Erised had changed. His family had gone. He was standing with a much older Ginny, with beautiful long ginger hair that fell halfway down her back. His five o'clock shadow was now notably pronounced, but his hair was as messy as ever. He was wearing dress robes, and Ginny was wearing the same dress that had been given much criticism from Aunt Muriel. In fact, it clung to her petite figure closely enough that Harry could spot a tiny, but tell-tale bulge in her stomach area. Surely not…he was going to be a father in a matter of years…
In the background were Hagrid, the Grangers and Professor McGonagall, plus Seamus, Neville, Luna, Ernie, Hannah, Justin, Cho, Parvati, Lavender, and dozens more current students, all grown up. Seamus was now sporting a mustache and a short beard as he downed a Firewhiskey, while Hagrid sobbed into his handkerchief as he slopped a tankard of brandy all over his wild beard. Harry's godson was there too, held by a beaming Andromeda Tonks. The Weasleys were all there: Mrs. Weasley was sobbing happily, Mr. Weasley was smiling too, a bald patch now clearly visible. George was there, minus one of his ears, with no Fred beside him, but he was roaring away with laughter at a silent joke by Lee Jordan. Bill and Fleur stood near the back, with a little girl at their side. Harry noted Percy, his usually stern expression behind his horn-rimmed glasses replaced with one of joy, as he held the hand of a girl neither Harry nor Ron knew.
But his main attention was on the two people at the very front, alongside him and Ginny.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," Ron replied, his mouth open with awe and wonder at the scene being played out in front of him. "Me, her, you, Ginny….everyone."
An older version of Ron and Hermione stood at the front, holding hands and a bouquet of flowers in Hermione's left hand. Ron was smiling widely, and Harry could see tell-tale patches of joyful tears in Hermione's eyes, as she too smiled back at him. Ron was wearing his best set of dress robes, and she, Harry noticed, was wearing a white silk dress, with a veil pulled back.
Matching golden rings shone on their ring fingers.
Harry was somewhat taken aback. Why was the Mirror showing him these happy images of a future wedding, when his heart was still aching for Hogwarts' fallen warriors, when he still felt a pang of grief when he thought of his parents? Why wasn't Ron being shown Fred, alive and cracking jokes?
There was a sniff as Ron cleared his still-partially blocked nose. "Why?" he croaked. "Why this, and not Fred, and Lupin, and Tonks?" Apparently, Ron was thinking alongside the same lines as he was.
And then, Harry remembered Professor McGonagall's words to Lupin from last year, less than an hour after Dumbledore had died. "Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think there was a little more love in the world." The words had been directed at Lupin, but their meaning was just as relevant right now, after so much loss. Harry somehow knew that Fred would have hated to see his family so broken and unsteady as that morning. It wouldn't have been the reason he and so many others had sacrificed themselves in battle against the Death Eaters.
Fred, Lupin, Tonks, plus everyone who had fought and then died, were wounded, or survived unscathed, was fighting for a future without Voldemort. It was the thing that Harry had wished for so many years, even as his chances of survival seemed to plummet over the months, weeks and hours leading up to the final confrontation just four mornings ago. Once again, Harry remembered Dumbledore's words from that night, his first one-on one encounter with the Headmaster and mentor who would, over time, he'd grown to consider a friend, despite his manipulation, mistakes and other flaws.
"Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible."
The future both he and Ron could now see was seemingly impossible to fulfill. Horcruxes, Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort had conspired to end all possibility of future days of joy. Until, that was, four days ago. And as much as it pained him, he'd come to accept that everyone who'd died was willing to pay that price to enjoy the same freedom and future he and Ron now envisioned. It was simply the only way of coping with it all. The desire to live a happy, ordinary life outweighed the grief of the last few days. He knew this, and Ron already knew it too, at least subconsciously.
He turned to Ron, whose breathing was becoming shallow, although tears weren't falling.
"Because…." he began. "…Remember when I became obsessed with this Mirror, and how I was becoming mad with longing to see them? How I argued with you, became damaged? Dumbledore told me that 'it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.'" Ron did not respond, but tore his eyes away from the figures of himself and Hermione, staring blankly at the floor. Harry had to try another tactic.
He crouched down beside Ron, yet again thinking how similar this was to the night the Locket was destroyed last December.
"Ron," he said firmly. "You're my best mate, and after seven years of putting up with my antics, and me throwing you into danger, you know you both deserve something better." Ron nodded, his eyes now back to roaming the scene shown in the Mirror.
In a fit of déjà-vu Harry remembered his 11 year old self with Ron, staring at this mirror, and one of Ron's sentences from that first encounter with the Mirror- that perhaps the Mirror showed the future.
"How can it?" he'd responded gloomily. "Both my parents are dead."
But his desire to see them had stuck with him, and so many years later, he had indeed finally seen them in the flesh. It was as if seeing them just once had satisfied his old desire to see them, and now, the Mirror was showing him and Ron the same, wonderful future. Was it really going to end up like this?
"You know, Ron," he sighed contentedly. "Maybe you were right. Maybe this mirror does show the future after all."
Ron smiled, his mind distant as he scanned the scene of his future wedding hungrily. Both lapsed into companionable silence as they looked with wonder at the once-impossible future that now was potentially just around the corner.
After several minutes of silently drinking in the scene, Harry decided to irreverently do a bit more teasing.
"Do I see a certain future Hermione Weasley there?" he asked, grinning away.
"Hermione Granger," Ron replied. "I bet you anything she'll keep her name. You know how bloody stubborn she is."
Harry looked sideways at Ron, and what must have been the millionth smirk appeared on his face. Ron began to look flustered, an expression Harry was all too familiar with.
"I mean," he stammered, his ears turning almost incandescent. "It's all completely theoretical…all in the future….and if she married….some bloke….um…I don't see her changing her name."
As Harry watched, the Mirror form of Hermione shoved her bouquet into Ginny's arms, and kissed Ron softly, but meaningfully on the lips. Mirror-Ron responded enthusiastically as confetti fell around them.
"Ugh," Harry muttered, pulling a face and turning his face away from the now-snogging forms of his best friends. "I told you two to hold it in."
"Hypocrite," Ron shot back. "Judging from the bump in my sister's clothing, I'm going to need to keep a closer eye on what you do with her."
A gleam of mischief shone in Harry's eyes.
"Really? Well, the task isn't going to be very difficult for me then, knowing your track record. You didn't even notice how awkward I was around her all of Sixth Year. In addition, I have no idea how you could possibly misunderstand what 'next time…ask me before someone else does' meant."
"I did understand," Ron shot back. "I listen and remember, Harry. I bet that git to it at Bill and Fleur's."
Harry turned to Ron, a forced look of innocence on his face.
"Speaking of that incident, why isn't Viktor Krum invited? I was hoping to see him here."
Ron whipped round and punched Harry in the shoulder, before haughtily turning his back to him.
"Hey!" Harry cried out, rubbing his now-bruised shoulder. "Kidding Ron. But knowing Hermione, she might invite him anyway."
Ron smiled and turned back towards Harry shyly.
"After my nightmare, I…talked with Hermione this morning about stuff like Krum and….past events. They're all over." Harry looked into Ron's eyes and nodded slightly as he realized that 'past events' meant, in Ronspeak, the Locket incident. Ron blushed yet again, and let his gaze drop.
Harry yawned, and looked at the battered watch that had belonged to Fabian Prewett. It was nearly twelve o'clock, and while there was no longer any security concerns, Harry knew they were all home-bound the very next morning. He watched Mirror Ginny force Mirror Harry into a clumsy, awkward dance. It seemed that his dancing skills would simply remain awful in the future, and he knew Ginny wouldn't stop teasing him about it. That was one of the things he found he loved about Ginny- the fact that she wouldn't hesitate at pettily insulting him for his weaknesses- as if he were an ordinary boy. Even if he was the Chosen One. He chuckled, remembering Hermione slapping him on the head with A History of Magic when reminding Ginny of this. He knew Ron was transfixed himself by the Mirror, and both had to go to bed. But first, he had to tell Ron something- something he wouldn't dare say in public, or even with Ginny right now.
"There's something poetic about this," he sighed contentedly as Mirror-Ginny scolded Mirror-Harry for treading on her toes.
"Huh?" said Ron dazedly, sounding as though he'd been Confunded. Harry smiled to himself as he answered Ron.
"When I arrived at Hogwarts, I had no family. Now I'm leaving here with one." It was true; Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, plus Neville, Luna and Hagrid all counted as the family he'd never had.
As Harry got Ron to reluctantly stand, and walk back towards the Common Room, they both agreed that not a peep of what they'd seen in this room was to be repeated to anyone- not least Ginny and Hermione. Somehow, the timing wasn't right, and the moment too special to be shared- yet.
Harry made sure Ron wasn't looking, but he gave the Mirror one last smile as he walked out of the empty classroom and walked up to the Common Room and the Dormitory for the last time ever. They'd all fought for a future without Voldemort, a future completely of their own choosing. A future with the people they loved most in the world. And the Mirror was showing what was now possible, and what would happen in the future.
Six years later, the future would become reality.
...
Boats
It was now time to leave. Not just for another term. This time it would be permanent.
As much it pained Harry, he'd realized that he'd outgrown the place that he'd long since called his home away from home. In addition, the presence of the dead around every corridor would continue to haunt him, months afterwards. As much as he hated the idea, he simply couldn't go back to pretending to be an ordinary teenage schoolboy. A year on the run, and dozens of near-death experiences had made him mature too fast. And of course, he'd already accepted the offer from the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, to begin Auror training in August with Ron. He'd told Ginny, worried at how she'd take him leaving her for several months yet again, and somehow, she'd accepted his decision. Like always.
He'd attempted to say as much to Professor McGonagall when she told him that he and his entire year group would be welcome to finish their studies, but instead, he'd felt a growing lump in his Adam's apple as she patted his shoulder reassuringly.
"I know, Potter. But I want you to know that after the events of the past year, Hogwarts will always be here to welcome you home, anytime you need it." Harry looked up and was only slightly surprised to see unshed tears in his old Head of House's eyes. He nodded, trying to maintain his composure. It would surely be very awkward if he broke down in front of Professor McGonagall, of all people. But she merely patted his shoulder again as she smiled gratefully and sadly.
"I know it hasn't been easy, and Lord knows how many points I've taken off Gryffindor for your actions, but thank you Potter. For everything you've done for this school."
"No," Harry smiled sadly. "Thank you, Professor." A few sentences couldn't convey the affection and loyalty he felt towards Minerva McGonagall. Gratitude for allowing him onto the Gryffindor Quidditch Team aged eleven, her vigorous defense of him numerous times, her going toe to toe with Umbridge, her promise to ensure that he, Harry, would become an Auror despite Umbridge's protestations….the list went on.
Harry turned away, looking to where the Weasleys were waiting outside the oak doors. He smiled at them and gave them a wave, signaling he'd be down there soon.
"Potter?"
"Yes?"
"I wrote to the Minister, and I told him that you and Mr. Weasley deserve some time off during your training. Especially when there's a Hogsmeade trip. I daresay you might need it. All four of you."
"All four?" Harry began, nonplussed. He spotted the slightest, razor-thin smirk appearing on Professor McGonagall's face.
"Private bonding time is essential for those of you with a high workload, like yourself, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Miss Weasley. I daresay you really haven't had enough of it." With a conspiratorial smile, Professor McGonagall turned to talk to Lavender Brown, pale and unsteady on her feet, and supported by Parvati Patil. Harry stood still, his mouth slightly agape. Surely Professor McGonagall hadn't just said that? The same Professor McGonagall had stripped Ron from his Prefect's duties for a week when he was making an inappropriate spectacle with Lavender on the Sixth-Floor corridor one night. Naturally, Hermione had barely stopped smirking all the next morning when Harry told her.
"Speaking of which, how are you, Lavender?"
Harry turned to see Hermione now engaged in conversation with Lavender and Parvati.
"I'm fine," Lavender winced and put a hand to her stomach, where Greyback had bitten her. "It's just a little difficult this morning because of the Full Moon."
"Are you coming back, Hermione?" Parvati asked. "I never knew how difficult life could be without you, Harry and Ron at Hogwarts."
"Yes, I am," Hermione sighed, giving the most infinitesimal glance towards where Ron and his family stood, waiting. It's just….going to be difficult." Parvati and Lavender exchanged a glance. Just like Harry, they all knew.
"We'll be there, too, if you need anything," Parvati replied reassuringly. "It's the least we can do, after all. I mean…" she turned to Lavender. "If you had been five seconds later…"
"Miss Granger! I want a word!"
Taking it as their cue to leave, Parvati grabbed Lavender's arm and escorted her out of the Great Hall towards the boatsheds. Harry turned to see Dean, Neville, and Seamus. "I'll see you guys down there in just a moment," he told them.
After a minute or so, Hermione turned away from Professor McGonagall and walked towards him, twisting her hands and looking nervous.
"So," Harry said brightly, but sort of dreading the answer. "Are you returning?" Even as he asked it, it would be a stupid question. Hermione Granger, voluntarily give up on another year's study?
"Yes," she responded, but unenthusiastically. "I still don't know how I'll cope though, what with everyone who died here, what happened here." She sighed. "Only five days after the war, and I'm already thinking of heading back for the first time without Ron. And you," she added slightly hastily, throwing him a nervous glance that was clearly meant to assure him that he wasn't being shut out.
"I know," Harry sighed, his mind wandering to thoughts of him and Ginny, resuming their old tradition of walking down by the lake shore. How much would it hurt, not seeing her for weeks on end yet again? "Somehow, ever since I made the decision to look for the Horcruxes, I somehow knew I'd never return. Not as a pupil or faculty member."
He noticed that Hermione's eyes were staring into empty space, slightly moist.
"I'll look after him when you're gone," he reassured her with a smile. "He always battles through in the end."
I'm not worried," she smiled back. "I haven't been worried for five days now. It's just…." She turned her face away.
"Oi, Potter! What was that about me needing to be looked after?"
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as his other best friend stomped up to him, hands in his pockets. "Well, just that I'll need to keep your arse covered at Auror Training once she-" he pointed at Hermione- "goes back to Hogwarts. You know, you can't just copy an essay off her now, Ron."
At this, Hermione punched him in the shoulder. "Like you're much better," she chided. "How many times have I had to bail the pair of you out?"
More times than I can remember," Harry laughed. "And I believe the first time was just after a fantastic use of Wingardium Leviosa on a twelve-foot Mountain Troll's club." Laughing, the three friends put their arms around each other, and walked out into the glorious fresh morning air, heading towards the boatsheds. The Weasleys, fellow Seventh-Year Gryffindors, and senior DA members all followed suit.
However, Harry felt Hermione's hand slip slightly, just as Ron leaned ever-so lightly into his right side. Knowing that the two had subtly reached out for each other's hands behind his back, Harry smiled.
He smiled because although the situation between Ron and Hermione had now changed, the close bonds that all three of them shared hadn't changed one bit, and it never would.
...
Hagrid was waiting for them in the boatsheds.
"All righ' then!" he boomed, clapping his hands together. "No more than four to a boat, an' no messin' around. I've had enough o' tha' over the years." Laughing, smiling, crying, or a combination of all three, the students all began to orderly make their way to each boat.
Harry made to get into the first boat behind Hagrid's magically enlarged one, but Hagrid stopped him, motioning for him to head to a pillar at the corner of the boathouse. "An' you two," Hagrid added, beckoning Ron and Hermione to join them. Harry paced on the spot nervously. After the loss and emotional upheaval of the past week, he wasn't entirely sure how he'd cope with saying farewell to his oldest friend in the wizarding world. So, naturally, the first thing that came out of his mouth was a stupid question.
"Why this? Why everyone?"
Hagrid smiled in a slightly wistful and sad manner.
"Do yeh really think tha' Professor McGonagall would have let all of Dumbledore's Army an' the seventh-years jus' ride along with the Thestrals? Now I know they're harmless, but yeh can't have constant memories of death hovering over yeh when yeh mean' to be celebratin' leavin'."
At the mention of 'death', Ron squirmed slightly and stared at the floor. Hermione briefly squeezed his hand.
Ron's reaction didn't go unnoticed by Hagrid, who sighed as he stared at Ron.
"I'm sorry, Ron, about Fred. He an' his twin may have been a pain in the arse, but I have fond memories of chasin' 'em away from the Forbidden Forest. I know how it feels, losing someone…." Hagrid tailed off, a couple of tears forming in his black beetle-eyes. "Me Dad, fer' example."
"Thank you, Hagrid," Hermione said in a very quiet voice, as she gripped Ron's shoulder.
Hagrid's tearful expression slowly changed as he turned to stare at Harry.
"I always thou' after First Year, yeh could beat him. I knew it, Harry, an' even as I was carryin' yeh back up to the Castle, I jus' had to hope tha' at least yeh hadn't done it in vain. I was righ' after all. Yeh came back, an' beat him. I'm grateful, ter be honest." Harry looked up at Hagrid, whose face had hardened again, and Harry knew he was thinking about Tom Riddle killing Myrtle, then using Hagrid and Aragog as a scapegoat.
"It's over," Harry said with a small smile, fighting of a crick in the neck as he bent it back to look up at Hagrid, whose head was stooped to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. "I'm just sorry I never asked you….about Riddle." He swallowed. Even after five years, guilt still flooded him, along with horror that he, like Ginny before him, had trusted the word of a Horcrux over Hagrid.
But Hagrid waved a dustbin lid-sized hand airily; Harry had to duck out of the way in order to avoid being knocked out.
"Doesn' matter. Yeh an' Hermione an' Ron all survived. As did so many of 'em," he turned to the dozens of Hogwarts students still pouring into the crowded boatshed.
"An' speakin' of yeh two," he turned to Ron and Hermione, "…yeh finally saw sense after so many years. Honestly, the way yeh' bickered an' fought in Third an' Fourth Year drove me crazy. I always though' there was somethin' differen' abou' the pair of yeh," he concluded, winking at Ron and Hermione, who yet again blushed. Sparing them, Hagrid turned to Harry.
"Stiil have yer' old album I gave yeh? Might want ter update it, after this is all over." Harry smiled. He did, indeed, still had his old album. In fact, he'd regard it as the most important possession he'd ever owned, far more so than the Firebolt.
Well," Hagrid said solemnly, "I guess it ends just like it began," and walked up to give Harry a bone crushing hug, followed by him clapping Ron and Hermione on their shoulders; both slumped forwards. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, before straightening up and banging his head on the ceiling. "Damn it. If only Professor Dumbledore had given me permission ter use the umbrella…."
As he, Hermione, Ron, plus Ginny, the Weasleys, Luna, and Neville proceeded to the front of the crowd, people made room, not just out of respect for him, but also for his two best friends, his girlfriend, his de-facto foster family, Neville and Luna. Harry, in spite of the sense of foreboding invading his body at the thought of what he'd have to face back at The Burrow, couldn't help but feel a small thrill of adventure. They were now all leaving Hogwarts, as per tradition, the same way they had arrived. Naturally, during their first year, he and Ron had had to endure thirty highly annoying minutes in the Common Room of Hermione reciting from Hogwarts, A History about what sort of advanced magic propelled the boats, and how she worried over whether she'd get good enough grades to make it to graduation.
Of course, this was before a certain incident with a Troll had changed all their lives.
Harry suddenly found himself embraced by Mrs. Weasley, George, Percy, Charlie, Mr. Weasley, Fleur and Bill simultaneously.
"I'll see you lot at King's Cross," Mrs. Weasley said as she turned to embrace Ron, Hermione and Ginny, smiling for the first time that morning. "Please enjoy it, won't you? You're all now grown up…."
Turning to hide her happy tears, she disappeared into the mob now boarding boats behind them. But George didn't move. He was staring blankly at the boats, looking pale and more than a little envious. It suddenly dawned on Harry that much happiness and joke-telling would be shared on this short trip across the Great Lake to Hogsmeade Station, something that George desperately needed, and he was going to miss out on it….
"George!" rang out Ginny's voice. Evidently she'd noticed George's expression too. "There's a space with Luna and myself!"
Looking the happiest he'd been since Fred's death, George grinned, embraced his parents, and got into the boat in the row just behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Okay then," Harry smiled. "Guess it's time." He and Ron eagerly hopped into the boat with Neville and Seamus, but turned around when he realized who they'd left behind.
"Oh, blimey. I'm sorry," Seamus muttered, springing up out of his seat. "Can't have you three not traveling together." Hermione tried to argue.
"But Seamus, that's quite -"
"Nah, I'll share with Dean, Parvati and Lav." Blushing only slightly, Seamus lithely leapt out of his seat, and ran along the dock to the boat just behind Ginny's, assisting Parvati in helping the still- pale and brutally scarred Lavender into her seat.
"Actually," Neville muttered. "I'll follow his lead." Springing out of the boat with an athleticism quite impossible seven years beforehand, he ran to get a seat alongside Ginny, George and Luna.
"Righ'," Hagrid boomed out. "Forward!"
One by one, the large flotilla began to sail after Hagrid's boat; Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the lead boat, although just behind them, Harry could see Ernie, Justin, Hannah and Susan sharing a boat, along with Ginny's and Seamus'.
Ron was now facing back towards the other end of the boatshed, waving at his family. Sighing when his arm grew exhausted, he turned to face Hermione and Harry, who was sitting opposite them.
"Hey!" an irritated voice called out. "You're not leaving for Auror training just yet, you blithering idiot. Not until after I snog you senseless under that oak tree in the garden." With a spurt of speed, Ginny's boat pulled up just alongside the gunwales of Harry's. Harry suddenly felt his face go very hot as he refused to meet the eyes of anyone, least of all Hermione, whose smirk was growing with every second.
Ron sighed, and raised his eyes to meet that of George's.
"Disgusting," George spat as he rolled his eyes at Ron. "Why can't my sister get over her infatuation with the Chosen One?" Ginny simply retaliated by sticking her tongue out at him.
"The days of overprotecting me are over, Lugless," she teased. "If you don't shut up, you'll find having your bogies attack you is distinctly unpleasant."
"Oh, really?" George raised an eyebrow sardonically. "How snappy, Gin, Gin. How snappy are you going to get if I remind you about your years of silliness around Harry?
Now it was Ginny's turn to raise an eyebrow in reply. "Not very, I bet you. Try it."
Okay," George said, grinning evilly as if he was plotting with Fred. "How about Ronnie sing us her Valentine?"
"What? I'm terrible at-"
"No, you only think you are. A side-effect may be serenading your lady friend beside you." Hermione buried her face in her scarf as Harry guffawed. Ron was now glowing like a red traffic light. George decided to take charge.
"Okay, fine. I'll do it."
George launched into song.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…"
Hermione began rolling on the floor of the boat with laughter, while Neville, Dean and Seamus were just about crying their eyes out. All of them had long since forgotten the Valentine Ginny had given Harry- partially because the haplessly lovesick Ginny Weasley of that year had long been forgotten and had died in the Chamber of Secrets with Tom Riddle's diary. A most different Ginny had emerged out of the Chamber.
On Harry's other side, the four Hufflepuffs were unsuccessfully trying to look sympathetic, but the effect was ruined when Justin-Finch Fletchley coughed, swallowed some his own saliva and began choking while a grinning Ernie thumped him on the back. Lavender and Parvati both looked on with amusement as George paused for dramatic effect.
"Yes, that's how it began, folks. Now then…."
Harry was now certain he could fry an egg on his face. But as George began to sing, another voice joined his.
Ginny's.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…."
George stopped in shock at his younger sister, now grinning mischievously. "That's right," she said sweetly. "Now that my dear brother has started, how about I finish?" Harry groaned and sank lower in his seat as Ron and Hermione's laughter grew with each line.
"His hair is as dark as a backboard.
I wish he was mine, he's truly divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
A cacophony of wolf-whistling, shouts of "To Harry, the Boy Who Lived!", "Well done Ginny, well done Harry!" and laughter engulfed the cavern, followed by a scattered outbreak of applause. After it had died away, Luna Lovegood sat with a dreamy expression on her face, putting her finger in the water and apparently stroking invisible Gulping Plimpies while humming Ginny's Valentine.
Ginny now rounded on her brother.
"You know Ron, if you and George thought that would embarrass me, try me finding your Krum Figurine in the Burrow's rubbish bin three summers ago. Did you tear his arm off after the Yule Ball, ickle Ronniekins?
"Shut it," Ron growled as Hermione laughed even harder while hitting him playfully on the shoulder in mock admonition.
"Yeh know," came Hagrid's voice from the front. "I always thought she had a thing for you, Harry. She was quite disappointed when she came ter see me fer the first time. If only yeh'd agreed to that fool Lockhart's offer o' signed photos…."
Harry groaned and sank even further. "Shut up," he retorted at a sniggering Ron. "Maybe you'd sober up if you were still vomiting slugs."
At Harry's comment, Hermione turned to face Ron with a look that many may have found loving, but what he called nauseating.
"But that was very noble of you Ron….I mean…" she broke eye contact, then re-established it. Ron blushed deeply yet again, and leaned closer to Hermione.
Harry had had enough. If only he could cast the Muffliato Charm…he reached for his Phoenix wand, but a small, thin hand grabbed his wrist.
"Stop trying to ruin everything for them," Ginny whispered in his ear, as she leaned up and kissed him on the left cheek.
Harry regarded her with a look of surprise, his left cheek still burning.
"What?" he said stupidly.
"I've seen you. You interrupted one of their private hugs last summer, you blundering, bloody prat. Honestly, Harry, sometimes I'd swear Ron's goofy genes have rubbed off on you." Harry chuckled at that. One of the things he was so grateful for now was the daily pleasure of the banter between him and Ginny. Nice, easy, simple, playful, and often filled with insults and backhand compliments from her. Just as it should be.
"Duck!" called Hagrid, and they all ducked their heads to avoid the thick wall of ivy. Harry blinked rapidly several times as they came out into a glorious morning sun, while the beautifully fresh smell of the lake reached him on a light breeze. Glinting red in the morning sun, on the other side of the lake, was the scarlet steam engine he'd soon be boarding for the last time.
Harry turned to see the shore where he, Sirius and Hermione had attempted to repel a hundred Dementors. He ignored the knot being tightened in his stomach. He'd never really had the opportunity to mourn Sirius' loss, as there had been no body to bury. But the grieving for those that had died not only in the Battle for Hogwarts, but in the entire war, could wait until tomorrow.
Pulling his thoughts back to that night, a night that even after all the horrors he'd faced, still qualified as one of the scariest, he realized how fortunate he was. If it hadn't been for his sudden realization of who cast the Patronus, not to mention the ingenuity of Hermione with the Time-Turner, then he wouldn't have been here, enjoying Hogwarts for the final time ever. He looked at his two best friends, now staring at the sight of Hogwarts Castle with the same wide-eyed awe they'd exhibited coming in. How lucky he was to have had Ron sit beside him on the Hogwarts Express, and to be in a position to save Hermione from the Troll. The latter incident was the first of hundreds of times they'd all saved each other's lives, although Harry had to admit, Hermione giving them life-saving knowledge about the Basilisk while Petrified took the cake.
Chuckling to no-one but himself, he looked up to see the badly-damaged, blackened and burned towers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle had been badly bruised in the fight, but by no means destroyed. Even with battle damage, the castle cut an impressive figure on the skyline.
His eyes still on the castle, he spoke to Ron and Hermione.
"Remember the day two became three?" Harry felt Hermione pat his shoulder happily at the memory.
"Yes," Ron began gruffly. "I remember it involved some bushy-haired know-it-all who I'd barely even talked to giving a bloody idiot some useful advice about the Levitation Charm." Both Harry and Hermione laughed and leaned into him at that.
Harry cleared his throat.
"What Ron and I haven't told you was that, well, we were on our way to warn you, and saw the Troll walk through a door….and, um…"
"What Harry means to say," Ron cut in, "is that he suggested locking the troll in. With you. Completely by accident of course…"
Harry didn't need to turn around to know Hermione's expression had become stony. Without warning, a small fist hit him in the arm, adding yet another bruise after his numerous hits from Ron last night. Once again, his mouth had gotten him into trouble.
But not in the form of a Death Eater, or Snatchers.
Both Harry and Ron now faced the wrath of their mutual best friend.
An "Ow!" from his right told him Hermione had hit him too.
"You…idiots," she spluttered, but the indignant splutter had more than a hint of a chuckle to it.
Ron let out a hearty laugh of relief, and flicked water at the still-pretending-to-be-indignant Hermione. She flinched. Harry turned to watch the action, and was most surprised to see her lunge not at his arm, but at his lips.
A wave of water drenched all three of them. Coughing water, Ron and Hermione turned to find the source of the splash, their arms still around each other. They didn't need to search very far.
"Cool it, you two!" Seamus called out, before he let out a high-pitched cry of horror as Lavender Brown swiftly pushed him overboard.
An explosion of water, and Seamus was thrown out of the lake, landing perfectly back into his boat, safe, but looking thunderous. Clearly the Giant Squid had given him a helping tentacle.
Pulling his eyes from the suddenly-choppy water, Harry looked up with surprise to see Lavender was laughing. Happily.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that the most unpleasant standoff between Hermione and Lavender had finally come to an amicable end. Then again, it probably wasn't too surprising given Hermione had saved her life.
As more laughter filled the air, Harry smiled again as he leaned into his two laughing best friends, and looked across at a laughing Ginny, a happy Neville, and Luna, who was serenely smiling at the scene unfolding in front of her.
He knew that the grief would return to him, Ron and the others in full measure at Ottery St Catchpole, where Fred was being laid to rest the very next day. Harry knew he'd be attending a whole string of funerals after that, notably Lupin and Tonks' double funeral. But in spite of the grief that still occasionally threatened to suffocate him, Harry felt a surge of hope as he realized the new reality they found themselves in. The building of a new world- without Voldemort- was now possible. But more important for him was the time he spent not just with Ginny, but also with the two friends he now automatically regarded as his true, living family.
After the grieving, the number of golden days of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione was endless.
Brownie points for anyone who spotted a JKR quote in this fic! Sorry about the length, but somehow it felt appropriate to keep it in one chapter.
It was after spending altogether too much time on that I wondered how would the two boys react if they came face to face with a Boggart after the Battle of Hogwarts. Then, following up on that, while I was writing this piece, I also wondered what would happen if Harry and Ron bumped into the Mirror of Erised after so many years. Would they see their dead relatives again, or would they have seen something happier? Would they have seen the exact same thing as each other? Also, when I found out about the boat graduation custom elsewhere on the fandom, that made it in too, naturally.
Finally, another thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or even bothered to click on my stories. I had absolutely no clue whether they'd be loved, rubbished or ignored, so thanks for the feedback,
hpkiwi.