It had only taken a matter of hours for news of the dark lord's defeat to spread. By late morning ministry aurors and reporters from the daily prophet alike had descended upon the damaged castle to see the battlegrounds for themselves. And of course, to see Harry. The boy who lived. The boy who destroyed the most powerful dark wizard of all time – twice.
But Harry had already left the grounds before anyone else had the opportunity to speak with him. At McGonnagal's bequest and with a brief goodbye to Hermoine, he used a portkey to Dumbledore's house in Godric Hollows. While the village itself would be a prime target for the Death Eaters, the exact location of Dumbledore's house was unknown to them. Voldemort never dared to go after the headmaster directly out of fear, and the house was still protected by its secret keeper – Professor McGonnagal.
"I think it best Potter," Harry could recall professor McGonnagal telling him, "that you refrain from travelling outdoors. At least for the time being," she added, knowing Harry's feeling of temptation to visit his old house and the grave of his parents.
He didn't argue. While the immediate danger was over, several deatheaters had escaped the Hogwartian forces. Most assumed they would go into hiding, but there was still a distinct possibility they could try and kill Harry before being captured. Only now there was no magical tether binding Harry to life; that force died with Voldemort. His mother's sacrifice would no longer guard her son.
But Harry didn't mind. The thought of death no longer scared him. Not after his encounter in the Forbidden Forest. And besides, it no longer mattered to him if he lived or died; he had fulfilled his destiny. The chosen one defeated the dark lord. The magical world was saved.
Mostly Harry agreed to leave for the sake of privacy. He was tired of being bombarded by celebrators, tired of looking into the faces of the wounded or the grieving and knowing that he was the cause of it. Most of all, Harry couldn't stand to see the hurt in Ginny's eyes over the loss of her brother. So he left.
Though he had used portkeys several times before, Harry couldn't shake the odd sensation that plagued him. He wasn't just going somewhere far away, or to the burrow; he was actually headed to Dumbledore's house. Odd, thought Harry to himself. Through all the years he knew Dumbledore, he never once stopped to think about where the headmaster actually lived. Or that he even had a house! It was a thought that had never crossed his mind until Bill and Fleur's wedding earlier this year.
Pushing his thoughts aside, Harry nodded towards McGonnagal, grasped the packaging of a bag of old snapping liquorice that had begun to glow blue, and felt the familiar tug come from behind his navel. All at once the headmaster's office begun to spin.