The war had been of their own making this time. Not because they had spared the children of the Death Eaters - and in some cases the Death Eaters themselves should they prove truly penitent - due to the fact that there was so precious little Wizarding blood left in Britain, but because of the biases they'd unknowingly handed down to their children and allowed to fester sight unseen up at the school where things were out of sight and out of mind.
For the Slytherins, it had truly been a matter of self-defence.
Harry knew he should've seen, should've known that things had passed their tipping point when his own son Albus had shown absolute terror over the prospect of being sorted into Slytherin. He'd stupidly maistaken that terror for nervousness though. He'd thought it had been due to a mere rivalry, much as it had been in his own day.
The Parents who had sent his generation to school had probably pictured the almost friendly rivalry that only turned violent when it involved Death Eaters and quiddich when they'd passed their disdain for Slytherin down. Their parents had been on mostly friendly terms with the Slytherins, except for some arguments regarding quiddich and the occasional spat in the hall when they'd handed down the traditional "rivalry" to their Gryffindor children. A few short generations ago, Slytherin hadn't stood separate, apart, alone and forced to fight against everyone else to survive.
The schism had been obvious back when he'd a child, not that he'd paid much attention. Dumbledore, who'd had two full days before his first Leaving feast to take the house cup from Slytherin, had constantly poured petrol on both sides of the fire without people really commenting, and he'd unwittingly made things worse when he, Hermione and Ron had created the DA and pretty much stated that nobody from Slytherin was welcome.
Just 30 short years after the end of the last war, Harry had found himself on the battlefield once more. This time, things weren't so clear and dry as they had been in his youth. His heart went out to both his sons who stood on opposing sides. James Sirius who'd grown up to be the good Gryffindor, and Albus Severus who'd learned firsthand that his status as the son of the Man-Who-Won wouldn't protect him as outright attacks against his house had gone unpunished by teachers who remembered the roles the Slytherins had played in the last war and how the house as a whole had run prior to the Battle of Hogwarts. Teachers who hadn't noticed or cared that they were quite often punishing children for the sins of other people's fathers and grandfathers.
Harry hadn't wanted to choose a side and had tried to stay out of it, but circumstances and the need to protect his daughter Lily had forced him into the fight. Since he was no-longer the young boy with the unbelievable luck that had allowed him to do the impossible, and his heart wasn't in the fight that he was wading through in order to reach his youngest child, it was understandable that his luck ran out.
"I thought I was finished with war the last time, dattebayo." Harry said wearily, slipping into the language patterns of his previous life as he flopped down onto the grass of the place he'd found himself in the second he'd arrived in the afterlife.
"Yeah, me too. That whole place was supposed to be peaceful. Wars once every century or two, and several generations of peace in-between. I honestly don't know what happened, and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear we were cursed." Ron said from his seated position on the grass where he'd been waiting several months for Harry to arrive.
"Well, at least you stuck by me this time and I didn't have to go chasing your ass around the world." Harry said as his hair briefly flickered to blonde and his eyes flashed blue.
"Whatever, dobe." Ron said, his eyes briefly flashing black.
"So, again then?" Harry asked.
"I think we should wait a while and greet the kids as they come through. I don't think I could handle being best friends with or, worse, the brother of 'The Chosen One' so soon after the last time." Ron said, an amused smile flickering across his face as his hair grew long and spiky for an instant. "I swear you're a prophecy magnet or something."
Harry emitted a depressed sigh, his hair turning long and smooth and his eyes dark as he visably wilted.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Ron said, trying to placate him. "Brothers?"
"Brothers." Harry said, heaving a morose sigh.
With that, both Indra and Asura turned to look at the perfect sky that the Afterlife had provided for them to look at. They had no idea what their next Great Adventure would be, but whatever it was, they would take it together.