Chapter 1
Harry turned to go, casting a fleeting look around the circular office, where, but a year ago, Dumbledore had first told him about horcruxes and Voldemort's past. That seemed like a lifetime ago. And now the hunt for Voldemort was over. Harry was free. It was over….
"We should go back to the Great Hall, Harry." …All over. Hermione's hand found his own, and together Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the office to more thunderous applause.
"What d'you reckon will happen to You-Know-Who's wand?" said Ron as they rounded the corner of the staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. "I mean his original one, not the Elder Wand." Normally Harry would have taken interest in such an important matter, but his grief for Lupin, Tonks, and Fred that we had put aside to defeat Voldemort threatened to submerge him. As they neared the Great Hall, Harry stopped to put on the Invisibility Cloak once more. He did not want to hear the whispers, feel their awestruck gazes on his back. Although he was used to such behavior from being called a murderer, the heir of Slytherin, and an unstable nutter, he preferred to remain unseen for now.
"Kingsley will handle it. He's the minister now," Harry said flatly.
"Temporarily. I mean, I'm not sure the ministry will want someone from the Order as Minister of Magic for long—".
"Nah, he'll stay. Who else is going to replace Thicknesse?" said Ron. Harry didn't hear Hermione's retort. McGonagall had stood from her chair at the head table and all whispered conversations were extinguished; Ron and Hermione stopped their half-hearted bickering and turned to look at the headmistress.
"If I could have your attention for a moment," she said as her eyes swept over the mass of students, teachers, Order members, ghosts, and magical creatures sitting together around the four house tables. "As you all know, Lord Voldemort is dead and his Death Eaters defeated. I commend all of you for your show of bravery and courage, especially Mr. Harry Potter, without whom, I'm afraid, we would be dead upon the floor as You-Know-Who is now." Heads swiveled around looking for the Boy Who Lived, but Harry remained under the cloak, just for the time being, he thought. He needed a word with Professor McGonagall.
"I would like to dedicate a toast in honor of all the losses suffered at the hands of Lord Voldemort." She raised a goblet off of the table, and as she did so, more goblets appeared at the four house tables. "To all those who fell victim to the events of tonight and to Harry Potter, the boy who lived and the man who triumphed." She raised her glass and seemed to look directly at Harry as the murmur of his name rippled across the Great Hall. McGonagall set down her goblet. "At present, I need to speak to members of the Order of the Phoenix and Hogwarts staff before Ministry officials arrive. Please meet me in my office in five minutes time." McGonagall stepped down from the staff table and began walking briskly towards Harry at a clipped pace. Once she had passed, Harry faced Ron and Hermione who were standing towards the right of the doorway of the Great Hall.
"I need to talk to Professor McGonagall," he said to them. Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice and Ron looked around frantically for Harry. Ron looked like he was going to say something, so Harry continued hurriedly. "Don't wait around for me, I might be a while. I'll see you in the dormitory," he added to Ron, who merely nodded. Harry figured that Ron was still numb from shock, although it seemed to be catching up to him, not yet having fully dealt with the pain of losing Fred.
"Harry," Hermione had not moved from Ron's side and she was looking a couple meters to the left of where Harry stood. "We'll be in the common room." From over her shoulder he could see Ginny sitting next to Mrs. Weasley, her head on her mother's shoulder. Harry had a sudden urge to run to her, but turned to follow McGonagall instead.
"You two need your sleep," he called over his shoulder to Ron and Hermione. "When was the last time any of us slept?" In fact, Harry didn't even know when the last time he had slept. He supposed it must have been at Shell Cottage the night before they broke into Gringotts. And even then he had not slept well with dreams of Voldemort drowning his unconsciousness.
"No, Harry's right." Ron cut in when Hermione looked like she was going to argue. "You need rest. We all need—" his voice cracked and he steered Hermione towards the Great Hall, where they no doubt would join the huddle of Weasleys. Ron looked once more over his shoulder back toward the area which Harry stood invisible. Kingsley began striding toward the door followed closely by Mr. Weasley, Neville's gran, Sprout, Slughorn, Flitwick, and Bill and Charlie both of whom were supporting a wounded Firenze. Although Madame Pomfrey had stemmed the blood flow and new skin had stretched tight over his flank, he still limped with difficulty. Harry immediately took off toward Dumbledore's—now McGonagall's office. He could only hope for a few minutes alone with her in order to confide…to confide what? Everything, he supposed. Although, he would need more than just a few minutes to encompass even a fraction of the beginning. Not to mention the middle and end.