It was cold. It permeated his body, flowing through his veins,
chilling him to the bone. The seventeen-year-old boy stood up upon two
violently shaking legs, his eyes shining with fresh tears. Darkness
engulfed him; only the moon's feeble glow and the millions of shining
pinpricks in the sky allowed him to see - something he wasn't completely
sure he wanted to do. The grass was stained with dark streams of blood.
Large clumps of earth were scattered, leaving small craters across the
green. The mark of haphazard spells.
The teenager's emerald eyes scanned the area around him, from the looming castle in the distance to the placid lake only a few steps away from him, when they finally rested on the lifeless corpse only a few feet from him. The body of a tall man was sprawled on the ground, a trickle of blood flowing from its mouth. Its gaunt eyes stared ahead, no longer a window to the corrupt mind that once lived. The body's narrow fingertips were still grasping it - the wand. They grasped the fatal object, the item that had caused so much grief, so much distress, so much horror, so much death... the tears begun to flow. It was the wand that had killed so many people, his parents included. The seventeen-year-old Harry Potter stepped up, relishing this moment. He bent down and pried the wand from Lord Voldemort's lifeless hands. He raised his own wand and muttered one word. "Reducto." The fiend's wand broke into several pieces, which Harry tossed into the lake with a rage-filled cry. His yells echoed to silence as he watched the remnants float out into the lake, where they were snatched by a long tentacle. The squid, no doubt.
A noise behind him abruptly caused him to jump. With his wand thrust forward, he met the eyes of Hermione Granger. Her ashen face was marred soot and her usual bushy hair was matted and lined with dust. In her hand she held the fragments of her own wand, destroyed by Voldemort in his final few moments. Lying limp only a few feet away from her was the unconscious body of Ron Weasely. The memory of Harry's stunner reflecting of Voldemort's Shield Charm and hitting his friend while he was defenceless caused a lump in his throat to develop. It was only a stunner, at least, Harry thought, trying not to image the consequence if he had tried something more.
Hermione stepped up to Harry, her faced filled with rivulets of tears through the ash on her face, and she wrapped her arms around Harry. "He's gone, Harry. Voldemort's gone. You did it."
Harry wrapped his shaking arms around her. It was all too much. The chase, the hiding, the fight... the memories would be always be scarred into his mind. The chase across the grounds... the hiding and praying for life... the final fight... but Harry had won, and the scourge that Voldemort had become was no more.
Harry released his grip on her and nodded. They both smiled, though neither were close to being happy ones. "Come on, Hermione. Let's get Ron and go back."
"Potter, Harry!"
Decked in very fine robes of a deep navy, Harry inhaled deeply and walked forward, stepping gingerly as not to trip on the hems. The light that shone at him was naught short of blinding. He could barely make out the shouts and cheers audience, although they were easily audible. Their applause filled the room, and Harry strongly doubted that any wizards outside couldn't hear the din.
Harry made his way across the stage, stepping up to a squat wizard dressed in robes made of, oddly enough, purple denim. The wizard shook Harry's hand vigorously with both of his hands, yet still managed to give him a diploma of thick, yellow parchment.
"Congratulations, Harry Potter," the wizard said in a rather unsuiting raspy voice, "for the completion of Auror Training." Harry beamed broadly at the audience, squinting. He could just vaguely make out Hermione's mirthful face and Ron's crimson hair, and from what he saw, both were clapping with considerable enthusiasm. The applause was still as loud as when he had walked onto the stage (or even louder, possibly) as Harry turned and walked back across the stage amidst the other Auror Training graduatates. They shook his hand and patted him on the back as he made his way over to where his two friends sat, each reflecting his mirth.
Long had Harry been waiting this day. Auror Training was a long and tiresome process. Years had to be put in to become a dark wizard-hunter, and Harry could truthfully say he needed every mite of strength he could muster. Five years were required to go from inductee to graduate, though Harry had passed each test ahead of his peers, pushing his stay at Auror Training to three years. Three years of Auror Training, making it three years since his Hogwarts graduation. Three years since Voldemort's death. That thought had managed to worm its way into his head. He certainly had the motivation to become an Auror.
"Way to go, Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he patted Harry hard on the back, jerking him from his thoughts.
Hermione beamed broadly, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Harry could feel the bones his neck crack. "Congratulations, we're both very proud of you."
"Thanks Ron, thanks Hermione," Harry said as he managed to free himself. Both of them stared at him with a funny expression, as if noticing his departure into thought. He made for a change in conversation. "It's pretty exciting, you know? Graduation and everything."
"Any thought of what you'll do?" Hermione asked over the din of the audience as the final graduate received her diploma. "I mean, of course you'll be going to the Ministry of Magic, but do you think you'll have a desk job or a firsthand one? I hear they're hiring Aurors now to track down the remaining known Death Eaters, and there's a vacancy for a position as assistant to the Monitor of Security at Azkaban. You'd work from the Ministry and keep tabs on—well, of course you already know this. You looked into it, right?"
Harry laughed and turned from Hermione, pretending he didn't hear her question.
Ron looked up. "You know, I reckon Harry would fit great with the practical job. You should tell Fudge you want that job, Harry. You just doesn't fit with a desk job, do you? Fudge is right over there." Ron pointed to where a portly man with greying hair stood.
Hermione scowled as she watched him make a step forward to shake another graduate's hand. "Honestly, how he ever got the be Minister... re- elected twice! It'd almost be worth moving to Spain just to not work for his Ministry. He's a terrible, terrible ma--" Harry stepped on her foot as Cornelius Fudge strode up to their table. "Minister," Hermione said sweetly as she nodded her head.
"Ms. Granger," he said absently. "And Mr. Potter! I offer my congratulations. I heard from Professor Fitley you graduated top in your class. Smart fellow you are. I was wondering," Fudge said tentatively with a fleeting glance to Hermione and Ron, "if you'd be willing to have a talk with me. A private talk."
"Okay," Harry replied to the unsure glances of his friends. Too much had happened with the Minister for them to take this with ease. As Harry stepped away from their table, Ron whispered, "If he tries anything, I can jinx him."
Fudge took Harry right next to a wall with several photographs of noted Occlumens and Auror Training graduates. One picture featured a duel between an Auror and a dark wizard, in which the second dueller appeared to have grass growing from his head.
"Well, Mr. Potter, as you know, I'm here to see if I can scout Aurors before other ministries from various countries can hire them," the minister explained as he gave a side-glance to a man with a rather muddy accent in the centre of the room. "I know we've had our - ah - tiffs in the past, but I can assure you, should you choose to work with me, there'll be a well- paying position as Head of Death Eater Detainment. So, what do you say, you'll be a fine chap and work for me, then?"
Harry gazed through his thick glasses at the man. A fleeting memory of Fudge, hysterical with anger, trying to expel Harry from Hogwarts for using magic to protect himself passed through his mind. "Your offer is much appreciated, Minister,"Harry said to a delighted grin from Fudge. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass, though."
Fudge's face slowly made way to becoming a deep burgundy. "Then where will you go? The Canadian Ministry? No, Kolenkhov from the Russian Ministry of Magic got to you, didn't he?" The Minister's voice was becoming rather high and wild.
"Er - well, no. I already have an idea where I'm going to work, but it's not in the Minstry."
"Then where?" Fudge demanded.
Harry grinned and simply said, "Hogwarts."
The teenager's emerald eyes scanned the area around him, from the looming castle in the distance to the placid lake only a few steps away from him, when they finally rested on the lifeless corpse only a few feet from him. The body of a tall man was sprawled on the ground, a trickle of blood flowing from its mouth. Its gaunt eyes stared ahead, no longer a window to the corrupt mind that once lived. The body's narrow fingertips were still grasping it - the wand. They grasped the fatal object, the item that had caused so much grief, so much distress, so much horror, so much death... the tears begun to flow. It was the wand that had killed so many people, his parents included. The seventeen-year-old Harry Potter stepped up, relishing this moment. He bent down and pried the wand from Lord Voldemort's lifeless hands. He raised his own wand and muttered one word. "Reducto." The fiend's wand broke into several pieces, which Harry tossed into the lake with a rage-filled cry. His yells echoed to silence as he watched the remnants float out into the lake, where they were snatched by a long tentacle. The squid, no doubt.
A noise behind him abruptly caused him to jump. With his wand thrust forward, he met the eyes of Hermione Granger. Her ashen face was marred soot and her usual bushy hair was matted and lined with dust. In her hand she held the fragments of her own wand, destroyed by Voldemort in his final few moments. Lying limp only a few feet away from her was the unconscious body of Ron Weasely. The memory of Harry's stunner reflecting of Voldemort's Shield Charm and hitting his friend while he was defenceless caused a lump in his throat to develop. It was only a stunner, at least, Harry thought, trying not to image the consequence if he had tried something more.
Hermione stepped up to Harry, her faced filled with rivulets of tears through the ash on her face, and she wrapped her arms around Harry. "He's gone, Harry. Voldemort's gone. You did it."
Harry wrapped his shaking arms around her. It was all too much. The chase, the hiding, the fight... the memories would be always be scarred into his mind. The chase across the grounds... the hiding and praying for life... the final fight... but Harry had won, and the scourge that Voldemort had become was no more.
Harry released his grip on her and nodded. They both smiled, though neither were close to being happy ones. "Come on, Hermione. Let's get Ron and go back."
"Potter, Harry!"
Decked in very fine robes of a deep navy, Harry inhaled deeply and walked forward, stepping gingerly as not to trip on the hems. The light that shone at him was naught short of blinding. He could barely make out the shouts and cheers audience, although they were easily audible. Their applause filled the room, and Harry strongly doubted that any wizards outside couldn't hear the din.
Harry made his way across the stage, stepping up to a squat wizard dressed in robes made of, oddly enough, purple denim. The wizard shook Harry's hand vigorously with both of his hands, yet still managed to give him a diploma of thick, yellow parchment.
"Congratulations, Harry Potter," the wizard said in a rather unsuiting raspy voice, "for the completion of Auror Training." Harry beamed broadly at the audience, squinting. He could just vaguely make out Hermione's mirthful face and Ron's crimson hair, and from what he saw, both were clapping with considerable enthusiasm. The applause was still as loud as when he had walked onto the stage (or even louder, possibly) as Harry turned and walked back across the stage amidst the other Auror Training graduatates. They shook his hand and patted him on the back as he made his way over to where his two friends sat, each reflecting his mirth.
Long had Harry been waiting this day. Auror Training was a long and tiresome process. Years had to be put in to become a dark wizard-hunter, and Harry could truthfully say he needed every mite of strength he could muster. Five years were required to go from inductee to graduate, though Harry had passed each test ahead of his peers, pushing his stay at Auror Training to three years. Three years of Auror Training, making it three years since his Hogwarts graduation. Three years since Voldemort's death. That thought had managed to worm its way into his head. He certainly had the motivation to become an Auror.
"Way to go, Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he patted Harry hard on the back, jerking him from his thoughts.
Hermione beamed broadly, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Harry could feel the bones his neck crack. "Congratulations, we're both very proud of you."
"Thanks Ron, thanks Hermione," Harry said as he managed to free himself. Both of them stared at him with a funny expression, as if noticing his departure into thought. He made for a change in conversation. "It's pretty exciting, you know? Graduation and everything."
"Any thought of what you'll do?" Hermione asked over the din of the audience as the final graduate received her diploma. "I mean, of course you'll be going to the Ministry of Magic, but do you think you'll have a desk job or a firsthand one? I hear they're hiring Aurors now to track down the remaining known Death Eaters, and there's a vacancy for a position as assistant to the Monitor of Security at Azkaban. You'd work from the Ministry and keep tabs on—well, of course you already know this. You looked into it, right?"
Harry laughed and turned from Hermione, pretending he didn't hear her question.
Ron looked up. "You know, I reckon Harry would fit great with the practical job. You should tell Fudge you want that job, Harry. You just doesn't fit with a desk job, do you? Fudge is right over there." Ron pointed to where a portly man with greying hair stood.
Hermione scowled as she watched him make a step forward to shake another graduate's hand. "Honestly, how he ever got the be Minister... re- elected twice! It'd almost be worth moving to Spain just to not work for his Ministry. He's a terrible, terrible ma--" Harry stepped on her foot as Cornelius Fudge strode up to their table. "Minister," Hermione said sweetly as she nodded her head.
"Ms. Granger," he said absently. "And Mr. Potter! I offer my congratulations. I heard from Professor Fitley you graduated top in your class. Smart fellow you are. I was wondering," Fudge said tentatively with a fleeting glance to Hermione and Ron, "if you'd be willing to have a talk with me. A private talk."
"Okay," Harry replied to the unsure glances of his friends. Too much had happened with the Minister for them to take this with ease. As Harry stepped away from their table, Ron whispered, "If he tries anything, I can jinx him."
Fudge took Harry right next to a wall with several photographs of noted Occlumens and Auror Training graduates. One picture featured a duel between an Auror and a dark wizard, in which the second dueller appeared to have grass growing from his head.
"Well, Mr. Potter, as you know, I'm here to see if I can scout Aurors before other ministries from various countries can hire them," the minister explained as he gave a side-glance to a man with a rather muddy accent in the centre of the room. "I know we've had our - ah - tiffs in the past, but I can assure you, should you choose to work with me, there'll be a well- paying position as Head of Death Eater Detainment. So, what do you say, you'll be a fine chap and work for me, then?"
Harry gazed through his thick glasses at the man. A fleeting memory of Fudge, hysterical with anger, trying to expel Harry from Hogwarts for using magic to protect himself passed through his mind. "Your offer is much appreciated, Minister,"Harry said to a delighted grin from Fudge. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass, though."
Fudge's face slowly made way to becoming a deep burgundy. "Then where will you go? The Canadian Ministry? No, Kolenkhov from the Russian Ministry of Magic got to you, didn't he?" The Minister's voice was becoming rather high and wild.
"Er - well, no. I already have an idea where I'm going to work, but it's not in the Minstry."
"Then where?" Fudge demanded.
Harry grinned and simply said, "Hogwarts."