Chapter 1.
The sun gently cascaded onto Harry Potter, leaving a lingering warmth on his bruised and ram shackled body. He had finally done it. He, along with countless others, have finally defeated the darkest wizard of their time.
The lives that had been lost, the blood that had been split, the families that have been torn apart. All the despairs of humanity rising to a great overbearing crescendo, have finally silenced but not in vain.
A single drop of sweat slowly made its way down Harry's face, stinging on the way towards the tip of his nose. He heaved a great, shuttering sigh and knelt down on one knee. The amount of emotions that speeding and thrusting its way throughout his body became almost unbearable.
His whole life has lead up to this point. His whole existence and reason for life was built up for this one moment. And it was finally over.
Harry's green eyes slowly cascaded over the debris that he once called his home. The wrinkles around his eyes seemed almost like an accident. His face too youthful, yet, displayed age and stress. Deep, dark bags lined his once vibrant eyes. Wrinkles around his mouth and eyes were obviously not from smiling or laughing.
"Harry!" Hermione called out as she jogged over to where he was knelt. She came to a quick halt and dropped down beside him, her chest heaving from the exertion.
"Come, come with me," She gently wrapped her arm around him and lead him inside the Great Hall.
Cheers erupted as soon as they stepped foot inside. Adults and children rose from their seats and raised their arms in formation, wildly clapping, all at the same time. The adults uncharacteristically jumped on the tables, waved their arms and danced around.
Harry was not in the mood, but the generations of people here that day needed this more than anything. The ones who spent decades watching their friends and family die, constantly looking over their shoulder and bearing witness to the worst of human kind this century has seen. They deserved to breath their sigh of relief.
"Everyone!" Harry yelled into the crowd after some time. Silence fell like a heavy blanket, a small pop from a champagne bottle could be heard further back in the dining hall.
"I appreciate all the gratitude everyone has shown me." Harry said "But the only reason any of us are here now, celebrating, is because of each sacrifice, great and small, that have lead all of us here."
"Here, Here!" roared the crowd.
The partying once again erupted into full swing. "Let's go, Harry", Ron whispered
The trio slipped effortlessly from the crowd and made their way to the courtyard.
The three stood there, taking turns looking at each other, smiling. If no one knew what to say, it was okay, just being alive and being together was enough.
The weeks following the defeat of Voldemort flew by. There was a flurry of interviews, parties and funerals. Harry avoided the interviews and most parties but dutifully and respectively made his peace with the deceased.
The hardest ones were Fred's, Tonks and Lupins funerals.
George refused to have his brothers funeral be remembered as depressing. "He'd want his funeral exactly like he'd want his life-full of pranks" George told Harry. And George stood by his word, giving the crowd of onlookers the shock of their lives when Fred's casket was brought to the grave yard on a flying carpet and when it was placed in the ground, a masquerade of musically induced fireworks erupted from the open grave.
George's face remained stoic throughout the whole spectacle but Harry could see in his eyes that he knew he was doing right by his brother.
Lupins funeral was small but respectful. He was placed alongside Tonks, in her family plot. A small group of people gathered to give their respects to the two heroic couple that died by each others side.
As the line formed to walk single filed up to the caskets to give their one last respect to the two, Harry picked up Teddy to bring him along to see his parents, one last time. When it was their turn Harry walked gravely up to the man he felt he was as close to as an uncle. Teddy cooed in his arms as Harry's thoughts drifted to the Marauders. Not one of the four friends lived to see the age of forty. Harry had to tilt his head back to avoid having any tears fight their way out of his eyes. Not one. For the rest of the day Harrys thoughts traveled to the four lively, talented young men whose lives were either cut short or destroyed by Voldemort.
Never again.