Helloooo dears,
I had this little thing buzzing in my head like a snitch and I had to write it down and kinda liked it, like a song you know.
So, I know that I haven't updated the other story, but I re-read the chapters I had prepared and didn't like them anymore, so I have to start anew
Regarding this little thing, it probably will be just this, a one-shot without sequel, but I had in mind to write a fic starting with a big 'What if?' Harry reached this conclusion after the Duel between Ol' man Bumblebee and Tommy
If you like the idea and have suggestion write em all down in the rr.
Thankssss
The Aftermath
The months after the Final Battle had been too erratic and confused to regain a smidgen of normality; the Wizarding World was in shambles and it needed his heroes.
One could argue that, really, it was his fault. He could have stayed holed up in his newly warded house and let the others do the cleaning up, but his thrice-be-damned conscience hadn't allowed it.
Really, he couldn't allow a repeat of the first post-war could he?
No, there would be no Lucius Malfoy slipping away from Azkaban with pockets a little lighter nor any Sirius Black getting thrown away and forgotten.
It was him who made sure that neither Draco nor Narcissa saw the grey walls of the Wizarding Prison, and that Warrington, Flint and Yaxley were tried appropriately and got what they deserved.
'We were taking orders from the Ministry' my arse
He had to support Kingsley in his campaign, still keeping a respectful distance so not to taint his newly acquired perfect image.
As Ron eloquently said " If those bloody fuckers somehow manage to start creating problems again, we'll need someone who will be listened and is bigger than them"
And so he started on the road of being Dumbledore, because yes, he could see the similarities and he was starting to have a new appreciation for the man, not as a grandfather nor as a general anymore, but as a mortal who did his best to keep the purebloods away from absolute power and the muggleborns from revolution.
Apparently it was cyclic, he discovered from the Black Archives in Grimmauld Place
Still, he got out only when really needed, and when Hermione and Ron departed to Australia and Ginny started her training with the Holyheads Harpies ( they were in the awkward position of having acknowledged the mutual attraction, but also the need for space and stability before attempting anything serious) he holed himself up even more, only with Pil, his new house-elf, as company.
He started exploring the Black Family Library more and more, out of boredom more than actual thirst for knowledge, but he ended up learning a bit here and there that would have probably been very useful during the war.
He knew that he wasn't the book-kind-of guy, he didn't sat there reading theory for days to end, he wasn't that interested in the intricacies behind the hows and whys;
he was the practical type, picking up things along the way, tending more towards improvisation than actual strategy
That's why he was completely enraptured with 'The Journeyman Libello', the diary of Alberto Magnus, an Italian wizard from the Renaissance, collected and tranaslated by a scholar of the Black Family, who studied the more intricate aspects of how nature and magic interacted together.
He wasn't really following his ramblings about his theories, but his actual experiments, those that needed to be in the wildness, to confront magical beasts, to feel the changes a wizard has on nature, those were his thing
He spent weeks totally amazed and awed by the beauty of magic, by the wonder of something that nowadays was utterly normal.
Spells that could take down behemoths like giants in the blink of an eye, the requirement of which were simply sheer force of will and magical prowess, no intricate wand movements, no long and difficult words.
Ways too feel the magic in the air and use it to call upon the same forest to help, to transfigurate rocks in griffins and nundus
He rediscovered the wonder of magic
A memory came to him, forcing him to run to his pensieve, freshly acquired from a 'friend' of Professor Slughorn that had a spare one and probably wanted to ingratiate himself to the Man-Who-Won (and wasn't that another stupid bloody hyphenated name - Ron and George had laughed themselves silly)
He reviewed the Battle of the ministry, specifically the duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore
It was understandable that at the time he didn't really pay it much attention, what with Sirius' death and the acknowledging of Voldemort's return, but it was a fight between titans
It wasn't simply the power or the number of spells, nor the speed of the casting. No what was truly astonishing was the connection those two giants had with their magic and the effect they had on the real world
It was like a giant hurricane, whose destruction wasn't limited by his winds or his rain but was a whole part of the Earth that raged against itself
He was awed again and again and for the first time since his fourth year he saw magic for what it truly was, the ability of the cater to impose his will on the world
I wasn't just a mean to torture or to kill, it wasn't just a mean to protect themselves against the weather or the DEs, nor a way to transfigure cups in rats
Something inside of him snapped, like a rope that was mercilessly stretched again and again
"Oh sod it all" He finally exclaimed
"Pil!" he called "pack my belongings in Regulus trunk and go to Gringgots to collect ten thousands galleons" Harry ordered, sensing excitement bubbling inside of him for the first time
"I need to write a few letters and the we are going!" He exclaimed again, sporting a shit-eating grin that would have sent the likes of Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape (had he been still alive) in a fit in remembrance of the times when James Potter finally managed to get a date with Lily "Firework" Evans and running to the heels
"Yes Master Harry sir!" The little elf exlaimed, just as hyper, euphoric to see his Master so excited - It had actually been very difficult to acquire Pil, what with Hermione's campaign for magical beings rights and the still fresh deaths of Debby and Kreacher (the last one victim in the Battle of Hogwarts), but Grimmauld Place was simply too big and after actually cleaning it of both dark magicks and gory things like the elf heads he was starting to like it
He was going to an Adventure!
