Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, magical beings, methods of transport or other aspects of this wonderful world created by Ms. Rowling. Reviews are most welcome, though only criticism of the useful sort will be taken into consideration when writing future chapters. This story is as much a quest and adventure for me as an author as it is for my readers.
Happy reading!
Chapter One the Parting
Harry, Ron and Hermione turned toward the door. As Harry touched the door, he heard a familiar harsh voice behind him. "Potter!"
Harry turned abruptly. There, next to Dumbledore's portrait, was the unmistakable portrait of Severus Snape, his greasy black hair framing his sallow-skinned face and hooked nose. Snape looked at Harry through his picture, staring into his green eyes with a look Harry had never seen before. "I wanted to say, I must apologize for my misgivings about you. You do possess some of your father's stubborn hotheadedness and mediocrity in potions I daresay, but you have your mother's undying loyalty and love," he said, his face becoming pained as he spoke the last words.
"I don't know what to say sir, only that, I'm sorry too, Professor. You deserve far more than the title of Sir, for which you begged me during our lessons, and I'm sorry I didn't try harder to like you," Harry said, hot tears brimming in his eyes.
Snape gave a little laugh. "Considering the scrutiny I gave you during your first ever potions lesson with me, I should say the task could not have been easy. Past grudges tend to run deep, I am afraid."
Harry, Ron and Hermione slipped back under the Invisibility Cloak and left the Headmaster's office. Harry was pondering when, and how, to restore the Elder Wand to its rightful resting place. With so much loss and injury, he wondered if it might be best to go to the tomb alone. He expressed his thoughts to Ron and Hermione as they walked toward the Great Hall.
"Harry, I don't know," Hermione said. "There might still be Death Eaters, or people who think they can still fight his cause."
"Yeah, well, after what's already happened, who's to say I can't handle that," Harry quipped, a note of steel in his voice. "Besides, I couldn't see any supporters daring to show themselves now that their leader has fallen."
"Do you think someone'll try and take it? I mean c'mon! The thing's unbeatable!" Exclaimed Ron.
"That's why I'm going to perform a ceremony, lay protection over the tomb. I can't reseal it like Fawkes, but I can certainly protect the Wand," Harry said. "Besides, I feel sort of bound to do this, like I was bound to go to the Forest. I think I'll do it tonight. Get the Wand to safety."
"Are you quite sure?" asked Hermione, slightly bewildered.
Harry nodded wearily. "You two go on to the Great Hall. Tell them what you will. I'm going out there to do this. Please, if Professor Flitwick can come, I could use his expertise. I would like to reseal the tomb."
Without another word, Ron and Hermione slipped out from underneath the Cloak and hurried to the Great Hall. Harry continued on through the deserted Entrance Hall, his sense of purpose keeping him from slipping into weariness. He continued through the castle grounds, which had been cleared of injured and dead fighters, and walked around the lake. The surface of the water was still and glassy once more, as though a recent battle had never occurred. Harry reached the marble tomb of his former headmaster and slowed, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. He felt strange. Was it grief or reverence?
He approached Dumbledore's still form, feeling once more the renewed horrors of the night at the foot of the tower. Slowly, Harry lifted one of Dumbledore's hands and placed the Wand in his folded arms. "I am placing this Deathstick in the care of the one man who could tame it," Harry said quietly to the form before him. "I'm also leaving my anger behind. I know it took a lot for you to carry so much on your shoulders. I just wish you could have trusted me a little more, maybe both of us could have felt more sure of the end of this." He then began to mutter protective enchantments around the Wand and placed a number of concealment charms so that it would not be immediately visible. He knew that Hermione could have done better, probably would have, but he felt responsible for the task, just as he had for burrying Dobby.
He stepped back to gauge the effectiveness of his work. In appearance, Dumbledore looked as though he were sleeping, and the Wand in his arms seemed to be a natural fit. As he contemplated what to do next, Ron, Hermione and Professor Flitwick approached.
"You require assistance, Potter?" Squeaked the little Professor.
"Yes sir. If you can, I would like your assistance in resealing this tomb. I have put additional protections, since it guards the Elder Wand," Harry stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Ah, I see. I will do my best, but I can assure you it will not equal the quality of its original state. If you wish, I may also cast concealments that allow only you to see the true form of the Wand, will that also help?" Asked Professor Flitwick, giving Harry a curious look.
"I believe it will, thank you Professor," said Harry, exhaustion threatening to consume him.
Professor Flitwick began muttering a series of complicated incantations under his breath. As he did so, a shining layer of silver and gold encased Dumbledore's body. Once the protections were complete, Professor Flitwick pointed his wand at the broken marble, which began to reseal itself. He stepped away from the tomb, inspecting his finished work. "I believe I have done my best," he said, giving Harry a respectful nod.
"Thank you so much sir," Harry said. The ceremony completed, they walked back to the castle in silence. It seemed none of them could shake the intense grief and loss that was so palpable in the air. As they approached the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall spotted Harry and called out to him. Looking sideways at Ron and Hermione, he hurried over to her.
"We've set up a private room for you. I can assume that you would like some privacy?" She asked kindly. He nodded wearily.
Waving farewell to Ron and Hermione, he followed her through the damaged castle. "My classroom is at your disposal, Potter. It was not badly damaged in the fray," she informed him as they reached it.
When they entered Professor McGonnagall's classroom, Harry was astonished at the changes that had been made. The damaged walls were plastered with Gryffindor banners and a large Hogwarts coat of arms. The room was transformed into a combined bedroom and study, with a bed and chair at one end and a study desk at another. "I don't know what to say," stammered Harry.
"It was the least we could do. I am sure you'll need your rest and quiet time away from the grief and chaos, so we've fitted you a place. Not to mention—" She winked sideways at him. "We would like to be able to locate you should your services be required.
"Ah, thanks, uh well, I suppose this is goodnight then," Said Harry, turning to examine his bed.
"Goodnight Potter. And do take the Draught Of Dreamless Sleep that Madam Pomfrey left on your table, it will help."
Professor McGonagall swept from the room, closing the door softly behind her. Harry found a pair of freshly laundered pajamas at the foot of his bed and changed. It felt good to be resting after nearly two days of constant activity. The potion which Madam Pomfrey had left for him sat in a goblet on the desk. This time, as he raised it to his lips, he was prepared for the effect and did not go to his bed to finish it. After he had drained the last vestages of potion, taken off his glasses and extinguished the lamps, he crawled into bed. Dreamless oblivion came immediately as a welcome relief.
Harry awoke to find bright sunlight on his face and a tray of food set out on his desk. Kreacher stood near the door, apparently waiting for him to stir. Harry sat up groggily and put on his glasses. He felt extremely well rested, though his entire body ached from having suffered so many falls and knocks during the battle. "Kreacher, what's up? What time is it?" Harry asked.
"It is nearly afternoon, Master Harry. Kreacher asks Master Harry if his friends can come in and see him? They have been waiting outside the door but Kreacher would not let them in," the elf croaked.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. So why have you been so kind lately Kreacher? What do you want?" Harry asked in a slightly amused tone, going to his desk and starting on his food.
"Kreacher wants nothing, Master Harry, but to return to the house of his mistress," Kreacher croaked.
"Yeah, we'll be going back sometime, and I can promise you can have anything you want of the Blacks' that belonged to her," Harry said. "But Kreacher, do you mind serving, or do you want to be free?" Harry asked slowly, thinking about Hermione as he asked.
"Kreacher wants to serve Master Harry, Master Harry gave Kreacher the locket of Master Regulus," Kreacher croaked, stroking the locket.
"You know, you could have that even if you were free," Harry pointed out.
"Kreacher knows, but Kreacher doesn't mind, Kreacher likes having good masters," Kreacher stated simply, giving Harry a little bow.
"All right then. If you're sure. You can go fetch Ron and Hermione then," Harry said, sipping his pumpkin juice.
With a little bow, Kreacher opened the door and Ron and Hermione joined him at the desk. "Blimey, that elf's barking!" Ron exclaimed, helping himself to one of Harry's rolls. "He's been blocking the door all morning and wouldn't let us see you until you woke up!"
"I think it's rather sweet," Hermione said brightly, drawing the curtains aside so that a stream of sunlight flooded the room.
"So Harry, tell us what's up with Snape being on our side anyway?" Ron asked. Hermione gave him a stern look, but Harry shrugged it off.
"Well, he loved my mum, so he changed sides to try to save her life because he knew Voldemort was going to try and kill her, well me actually," Harry said simply.
Ron gaped in surprise. "What d'you mean, Mate?" He asked in astonishment.
"I saw it in the Pensieve. He was in love with her from before they went to Hogwarts, but she didn't like his choice of friends. I guess he didn't like his mum and dad much, so he hooked up with the Death Eaters," Harry explained. He told Ron and Hermione all he knew from the Pensieve and about how Snape had killed Dumbledore on his orders.
"So Dumbledore really did know what he was doing!" Hermione exclaimed, awestruck.
"Yeah," Harry sighed. He lapsed into thoughtful silence. He wasn't sure if he wanted to think about Dumbledore at the moment. His doubts and misgivings pervaded his admiration for him too greatly at the moment.
"So anyway, what're you going to do today Harry?" Ron asked.
"I dunno, I think I'll help repair the castle a bit, give me something to keep busy," Harry sighed, coming out of his reverie.
"Ah, well. I know I'm keeping out of mum's way, she's touchy right now," Ron moaned.
"Yeah, well at least your parents know who you are! I have to go find mine somewhere in Australia! And the worst of it is they won't even know me!" Hermione burst out, tears sliding down her cheeks. Ron put an arm around her, attempting to comfort her.
"I could help you find them," Harry suggested helpfully. He didn't much like the idea of being near all of the grief, especially the Weasley family.
"No, thanks though Harry. I'd better go alone. I need to do some tricky memory repair, and it won't be easy to find them either," Hermione explained firmly.
"No Hermione, if anyone's going, it's me. I can't stand Mum right now, and all this grief is just—" Ron faltered, apparently trying to find the words. He settled with "difficult".
"But what about your family, Ron! They can't have any more loss, and this is dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed, turning away from the two of them in her frustration.
"Yeah, I could go. Nobody would worry about me being lost," Harry said calmly. Then, at a stern look from both of them, he added, "I mean, I don't have parents or siblings who'll be affected, do I?"
"Well, no, but still, I need to do something Harry, I'll go crazy! I couldn't fight those bloody Death Eaters and save Fred! I want to do something dangerous!" Ron exclaimed, pacing the room in frustration.
"All right, I concede! Ron, you can come! Just be careful, and do what I ask, okay?" Hermione quipped exasperatedly.
They began to discuss plans for Ron and Hermione's departure, which would take place that evening. They considered disapparated on the High Street and flying by broom to Australia, since apparating over open sea would be highly risky. However, Harry pointed out that to fall off a broom in the open sea would be just as deadly as attempting to apparate across it.
"So what should we do then?" Asked Hermione, slightly annoyed.
"What about asking Hagrid if you could borrow a thestral," asked Harry.
"No thanks, I think we'll go by ship. I don't like flying on those things," Hermione said with irritation, giving Ron a look that indicated she had made the final decision.
"Ship, really! Won't that take forever?" Ron complained.
"I told you you didn't have to come if you didn't want too," Hermione quipped. "Besides, you know how much I hate flying."
"No, I'm coming. You're not going to a foreign country alone," Ron said emphatically.
Plans were also made about how they might begin to find Hermione's parents once they had reached Australia. Ron suggested showing everyone on the street a picture of the two people, but Hermione pointed out that the muggle community is not as small as the wizarding one. She then suggested that they might contact the muggle authorities and show them a picture of her parents. The authorities may be able to locate the name of Wilkins in a "database" she explained. Harry agreed. Before they left the room for dinner, Hermione gave Harry all of his books and possessions which she had kept in her beaded bag during their journey.
The Great Hall had changed dramatically over the past several hours. The floor had been cleaned to a sparkling shine, and the walls were brightly decorated with the four house colors. Along one wall, tables were set in rows facing a large, bufet-style table piled high with food. On the other side of the room, cots were set up to treat the injured that could not be held in the small school Hospital Wing. As they entered, the talk became hushed as everyone turned to gaze at Harry with wonder and admiration. Mrs Weasley lifted her tear-stained face and gave Harry, Ron and Hermione a wide tremulous smile. Ginny hurried over to Harry, but stopped abruptly and glanced at Ron as if asking for permission. Ron looked sternly at Harry. "You're not going to keep messing her round while I'm gone, are you? I mean, you're done playing hero," he said fiercely.
Harry could not believe what he was hearing. Did Ron really think that what they had been doing for the past year was "playing hero"? Well, if that was his attitude, Harry thought, then it would explain why he left. He gave Ron a look of utter contempt. "Yes, the game's over, I think. And I'll have you know, Ginny knows I left for her, not because I wanted to just mess her round," Harry said coolly, avoiding Ron's eye.
"I didn't mean nothing mate! I mean, I just want my sister to be happy!" Ron exclaimed, hurrying after him. "Look, I'm sorry! Really!"
"What makes you think she wasn't!" Harry fumed.
"I don't know," Ron said, looking defeated.
"Well, whatever. It's nothing," Harry sighed, taking a place beside Ginny and Luna. Harry ate extremely well that night. He did not realize just how much he missed Hogwarts food until he saw the feast laid before them on the food table. There were pork chops, sides of beef and lamb, as well as sumptuous chicken and fish. The hall was nearly silent as everyone ate. It seemed that no one wanted to discuss the happenings of the last few days. Many of the staff were present, though he noticed that Hagrid was missing.
"Reckon he's in the Forest with Grawp?" Harry asked those around him.
"I dunno, maybe. He is fond of that giant," Hermione said.
"Yeah, I suppose so. I was just hoping to see him. You know, say thanks," Harry said quietly.
"I'm sure he'll be in," Ginny chimed in reassuringly.
After dinner, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione walked over to where the rest of the Weasley family sat huddled together. Ron briefly explained his plan to leave with Hermione. Mrs. Weasley became tearful and began to protest, but Mr. Weasley placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Molly dear, they'll be fine. I can assure you, they've been through much more than this," he said calmly.
"But Arthur, they're so young! Don't you think a more experienced official should go? I mean, others could undo a memory modification!" Mrs. Weasley protested.
"Yes they could, but I am sure Hermione would know her parents better than another. Besides, her skill is superb," Mr. Weasley countered.
"But why our Ron!" Mrs. Weasley floundered.
"Well, Ron, could someone else go?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking defeated under his wife's angry glare.
"No, I want to. I don't want to stay here, I'm sorry," Ron stated simply, not meeting his parents' gaze.
"Well, alright, if you must," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Just try to keep in touch please." Mrs. Weasley folded her arms, looking cross, but did not contradict him.
Harry accompanied Ron and Hermione out of the castle grounds and down the High Street to the point where they would be disapparating. They both wore heavy traveling cloaks over sets of old robes which they had procured from Professor McGonagall despite the heat of the night. Hermione was clutching her beaded bag, while Ron held a bulging bag of food from the kitchens.
"I believe we should be able to find a ship that will take us to Australia tonight. If not, then I have enough muggle money to get us a decent room for the night," Hermione stated as she rechecked her packing.
"Take care of my sister Harry, or I'll know who to find," Ron said, giving Harry a wink.
Harry smiled as they turned on the spot and disapparated. As he walked back toward the castle, a sense of relief washed over him. Not only was the war over, but it seemed that he, Ron and Hermione had resumed a semblance of their friendship.