Not mine, all credit to the queen, JK Rowling.
On May 3, 1998 Harry James Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, woke up disoriented with a pounding headache. Harry looked around and all he saw was orange. Picking up his wand, he muttered, "accio glasses", and they promptly smacked him in the face. Shoving them on, he stumbled down stairs and looked at the time. 1:45 pm, Harry had slept for over twelve hours straight. Judging based on surroundings, he was at the Burrow, the humble home of his best mate Ron, who had been through seven years of adventures with Harry at Hogwarts, along with their good friend Hermione. As Harry remembered the events that took place just the day before, namely the Battle of Hogwarts, dubbed by the Daily Prophet, he just wanted to hop back into bed and sleep for eternity.
When Ginny went downstairs to make a quick sandwich for lunch, she found Harry at the dinner table fast asleep, his hair sticking up in all directions and his glasses falling off his face. She watched him sleep for a few minutes thinking of all the emotions he must have been through yesterday, all the guilt, sorrow, desperation, and relief once it was all over. A few minutes, Harry started and sat up, rubbing his eyes and righting his glasses.
"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked tentatively.
"Like we lost the battle, instead of winning it" Harry answered cryptically.
"Harry, nobody blames you for anything that happened so you need to stop blaming yourself"
Harry knew Ginny was right, but couldn't bring himself to move past all the tragedy yet.
During dinner, the Weasley's were uncharacteristically somber. For once, George didn't crack a single joke and Ron only had one helping of the stuffed turkey. Finally, Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat and said,
" I think we need to have a talk about… um Fred's funeral," she finished quickly.
George stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process. He crossed the room in three long strides and raced to his room, unshed tears threatening to spill out.
After dinner, the trio went outside to talk. The stars were bright and it was a cloudless night.
"I've heard that they're starting to rebuild Hogwarts soon, anybody can sign up to help," Hermione shared.
"Well I got everyone into this mess in the first place, I might as well help get us out," said Harry.
"Let's go tomorrow" Ron said.
After that, they started recounting all the memories they had of Fred, Remus, Tonks, and all those who had died. Before long, they were clutching their sides and rolling around howling with laughter.
"I thought I had forgotten how to laugh but it seems like I haven't," Harry said.
"Laughter is the best medicine," Hermione quipped.
Unfortunately, the happiness could not last long and suddenly nothing was funny. They were dead because of him. How could he laugh when he should be mourning? Harry stayed outside long after Ron and Hermione headed in and woke up with the sun in his eyes and the birds chirping, the occasional garden gnome running over him.
Hogwarts
As soon as Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived, they headed towards the large crowd gathered outside the castle . Professor Mcgonagall stood on a rickety podium, she cast a sonorus charm on herself to amplify her voice.
"Welcome, welcome. Thank you for gathering here today to help with the efforts to clean up and rebuild our beautiful school. We cannot deny the heavy losses we have sustained through the battle, in all aspects, but we also cannot deny the fact that we will rebuild, we will move on, and Hogwarts will be better than it has ever been before. We must unite in the midst of our sorrow, our grieving; that is the only way to pull through tragedy."
Mcgonagall paused to wipe her eyes with a handkerchief, and finished her short speech by asking for a moment of silence. In one uniform motion, the witches and wizards gathered raised their wands, tips alight to honour the fallen. Tears streamed down the faces of a few, but most lowered their head, their eyes empty, emotion too much to be expressed.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were in a small group assigned to the Gryffindor tower and the surrounding hallways. Dean and Seamus were in the same group, but the most they could offer was a simple greeting. For hours everyone worked in silence, using 'Reparo' and 'Wingardium Leviosa' for smaller repairs, and somewhat obscure countercurses where the ceiling had collapsed from dark curses. Hermione taught them a strong cleaning spell to cleanse the splattered blood stains from the wall. Harry had the urge to gag multiple times, seeing the mass destruction surrounding him. Finally, as the sun was setting, they realized they had forgotten to eat lunch. They headed down by the Great Lake and sat down by the water.
"HARRY POTTER! MY SAVIOUR!" A man had stumbled over, and was clutching Harry's robes. He had a desperate look in his eyes, and was sobbing on his knees. At his outburst, many heads turned their way, and with them reporters and journalists, crowding in.
"So, the-boy-who-lived, now the-man-who-lived. How was it that you, a mere 17-year-old, killed You-Know-Who?"
" ! Mr. Potter, sir! Is it true that you came back to life?"
On and on the questions came, pelting Harry like a unrelenting hailstorm.
"I'm sorry. I'm not ready to speak about it yet. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry said, trying to push away.
"HEY! Back off, will you? Harry will talk to you when he's ready. Bloody hell, you reporters are annoying," Ron yelled, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
It took them two more hours to get through the throng of people, and they apparated to the Burrow on Hermione's suggestion. She figured the anti-apparition wards would have been broken during the battle.
And that is how the day after went for one Harry James Potter, saviour of the wizarding world.
End of Chapter 1
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