Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter or its associated canon nor any other already copyrighted material.
(A/N): I've had this kicking around in my head for about four years and with the release of Deathly Hallows part 2 I finally got around to writing it.
Harry's knees crashed to the ground as his hand closed around the Elder Wand. Fifty feet in front of him Tom Riddle's now lifeless body collapsed gradually to the ground. It was like watching a tower fall in slow motion as every little bit of him collapsed in upon itself and finally met the floor of the Great Hall in spluttering splash. The first rays of dawn were shining over the mountains and directly into his emerald eyes. He didn't raise a hand to shield himself. He didn't even blink.
It was over.
After all those years, all that death, all the terrible things that had happened to his friends, his family and to him.
It was over.
He didn't feel joy. He didn't feel satisfaction.
He felt relief. He'd done it. Against impossible odds he had triumphed.
The pain in his eyes finally focused his mind enough to turn away from the sunlight. When he did, what little he felt beyond pain was washed away with dread.
A mane of red hair lay several feet from him, obscuring the face of a young woman. Her hand was extended toward him and looked far too pale.
"GINNY!" Dropping both wands he scrambled across the flagstones on his hands and knees, ignoring the pain registering all over his body after the battle. "Ginny!" He swept the hair aside and collected the girl in his grasp. Her head flopped back over his arm and glazed eyes stared up at him. His hand raced to her throat seeking a pulse only to come away with a slick of cooling blood where her neck had been sliced open. He could feel some now soaking into the sleeve of his arm as he cradled her lifeless form. His word came out as a whisper. "No…"
His vision blurred and tears fell freely as he threw his head back and roared. "NO!" Breathing hard he slowly looked back down at the girl. He felt part of himself die at the sight. She had fought to be with him, spent her last moment reaching for him. And it had cost her everything. If Tom wasn't already gone, Harry would have killed him again.
He didn't know how long he sat like that, cradling her body, but slowly a small part of his mind wondered why no one had tried to stop him. Gradually making his eyes focus he looked around and found his reason.
The Great Hall was in ruins. No longer was it the enchanted ceiling mimicking the morning, the sky itself was clearly visible above the shattered remains of the hall. His eyes swept the area in measured, stunned arcs. No one had interfered because no one could. Everywhere he looked the lifeless forms of students, faculty and death eaters lay wherever they had fallen. He spotted more red hair and knew it to be Arthur and Molly. The Malfoys lay nearby. Students he recognized from his time even if only in passing were scattered elsewhere. Slughorn, at least most of him, was propped up against the stairs to the faculty table. What might have been McGonagall's hat lay nearby. Of the woman herself, there was no sign.
Everywhere he looked the dead covered the floor. No one moved. No one made a sound. He wanted to shout into the void just to make some noise but could find no breath to do so. He felt, at the very edge of himself, a chasm opening that would allow him to join the quiet dead and be free of this terrible silence. He looked at it, stared at it, for uncounted minutes. Harry looked into the abyss, the abyss looked back and he knew they could become one. All he had to do was let go.
After an eternity of staring he faintly saw Ginny's face. Calm, surreal and not quite there. Using all of the little strength her memory gave him, he turned from the abyss and came back to himself.
He carefully set down Ginny's body, crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. If not for the blood he could almost imagine she was just asleep.
Rising unsteadily to his feet he looked around. "Hello?" No one replied. He waited a long minute before shaking his head and stumbling toward what remained of the doorway. Reaching the hall beyond he once more called out. "Hello?" Once again he received no reply. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recorded the names and faces of the dead he discovered. He didn't feel sorrow, or satisfaction. That would come later. Now he was in shock.
He shakily made his way around the nearer parts of the castle and repeated his cry, desperately seeking anyone that had survived the last few minutes of carnage that had been the end of the battle of Hogwarts. Time and again he came up empty. He could not seek in several rooms and the few towers he came across. Every single one of them was destroyed or simply gone.
Ascending one of the few unbroken sections of the stairways he was about to call again when a small sound caught his ear. Focusing, he knew it was someone…female…crying softly. He was so desperate for contact he nearly broke his own legs dashing haphazardly toward the noise. Part of him knew he recognized the voice. Now if he could just place it…
A moment later he had no need to. Slowing down he knelt beside a head of bushy brown hair that was holding onto a hand. That, and the arm connected to it, were nearly all that was sticking out from under several tons of masonry that had been a wall. The only other thing visible was the head of Ron Weasley, a look of surprise and determination still showing on his pale features. Hermione was absently brushing the hair out his eyes for what must have been the hundredth time. As soon as she finished it fell right back into place.
As he got close enough Harry could just hear her voice through the tears whispering his friend's name over and over. He waited for some time for her to notice him. Finally he spoke. "Hermione." She showed no reaction. "Hermione." Nothing. "Hermione!" She didn't even twitch. As last he reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. She instantly jerked to the side and looked as if she might scream. She stared at him for long moment before breaking down again and throwing herself into his arms.
He squeezed her as tightly as he could and found the simple act of holding a warm body once more broke him down into sobs.
Some minutes later they both kneeled next to Ron, his eyes finally closed, his hand as much at his side as possible. "He saved me. Pushed me out of the way." Harry didn't know how to respond and so kept quiet. "You won?" Harry nodded. "Good." There was a note of grim satisfaction in her reply. Almost a deadly enthusiasm for that outcome. He glanced over and could almost see time passing, her face hardening into that of a determined woman before his eyes.
Muttering something, perhaps a prayer, under her breath, she rose purposefully, dusted off her jeans with her hands and offered him a hand up. He took it and rose. She hadn't gotten over this. Not this quick. She never truly would. But with a strength he had always admired about her, she locked it down for the moment so they could focus. Her eyes swept the area and took in the devastation. "My god…" He nodded agreement to the sentiment.
"It's the same everywhere. At least, everywhere I've been." She turned a degree toward him.
"Did you find anyone else?" He shook his head and his control faltered for a moment before reasserting itself.
"But I haven't looked everywhere."
"Then let's go." Grabbing his wrist she started along the corridor and joined him in searching for survivors in the ruins of the castle. Though it took time, it wasn't nearly as long as it should have. They found the last survivor in the hall near the main gate, sword still in hand, blood covering bearer and blade alike.
Neville was standing under his own power though limping rather badly. He greeted the pair with a nod and gestured to the rest of the castle. The both shook their heads to indicate the results of their search. Shock, anger and acceptance crossed his eyes in rapid succession and for minute they simply stood there staring at each other.
It was Neville who moved first. Almost using the blade as a crutch he headed for the main castle gates and out into the grounds. The pair followed close behind. Crossing the bridge out onto the blasted land they found something they weren't expecting. Stepping haphazardly Harry jumped nearly a foot into the air when one of the corpses let out a groan. A moment later a head of platinum blond hair appeared from beneath a pile of black cloaks that had collapsed over him.
Draco's face was beaten but unbroken and he clawed his way to his feet while shielding his eyes against the sunlight. He looked at the three of them, then at the castle. He fell back to his knees and threw up onto one of the cloaks. When he rose again he looked them over and at last his eyes settled on Harry. There was something strange, alien within Malfoy's eyes at that moment. Genuine sadness. Remorse. Disbelief. He fixed Harry with a firm stare.
"I'm sorry. For the part I played. I…" Harry could see the excuses, the reasons, the shifting of blame pass for a moment before it was cut off. "I'm sorry." Harry stared at him hard for several moments before nodding firmly.
"Okay." He jerked his head toward the grounds and started off with the others once more. Draco fell in behind them and plodded along. Clearing the bridge and then the majority of the battle zone they found a small hill that was miraculously untouched by the war. It was bright green and bathed in sunlight. Reaching the crest Harry turned and sat down looking at the castle. The others joined him, Hermione on his right, Neville and Draco on his left. He lay back and let exhaustion overwhelm him. He was asleep in seconds.
Harry woke slowly and carefully sat up. It hadn't been a dream. The castle had been devastated and was even now filled with hundreds of dead. He sat there, arms folded across his drawn up knees, just staring at the structure and remembering how it had been. Slowly a focus and determination built itself up his mind.
By the time the others rose and looked around he had completed his plan. They had risen and were walking a little to work out aches and pains. After several minutes they all joined him at the crest of the hill to look over the castle. It was Malfoy who asked the question they all were thinking.
"What do we do now?" Harry almost smiled. He would have if not for the sorrow.
"We rebuild it." He took a couple steps forward and turned to face them. "Just as it was. Better than it was." Three sets of shocked eyes stared back at him. Hermione's shock was pure, making her unable to speak. Draco's was more malevolent, thinking Harry had snapped. Neville's was tempered with something else. Determination. Good. He'd need it.
"What do you mean, 'rebuild it' Potter? It's destroyed." Harry fixed Draco with a steady look.
"The building, yes. But the memory remains. The spirit, the thought, the idea. And as long as that remains, so does Hogwarts." Neville looked past him skeptically.
"Be a big job. There's just the four of us."
"There were only four in the beginning. They managed." At last Hermione managed to speak.
"But Harry, the Founders were among the most powerful wizards and witches in history." Harry shrugged in response.
"Even the best of us are students at some point. Four people, who didn't; always see eye to eye, but who shared a common goal. That's what created Hogwarts originally. I know we can do it again." Hermione nearly stamped her foot.
"But Harry, we're not ready for that. To teach young wizards? Be professors? We're barely adults."
"And we're seen things wizards have gone their whole lives without dealing with." Malfoy almost managed a sneer.
"Looking to be Headmaster Potter?" Harry shook his head firmly.
"Not even a little bit. For the moment there won't be one. Just the four of us. Malfoy, you can take over as head of Slytherin house. Lead them, teach them, guide them, cunning and subterfuge included." He turned to Hermione. "The brightest witch of her age. I'm sure Rowena would be pleased to have you at the head of Ravenclaw." Hermione still seemed unsure and he turned away to give her time to think about it.
"Neville. After what you've done this year no one can doubt your tenacity and loyalty. You've been steadfast since the first time you came here. And you have the heart of a lion. What more could Godric ask for in an heir?" Neville looked up at the castle.
"I could take Hufflepuff I believe… Wait. What? You want me to take over as head of Gryffindor?" The others seemed just as surprised as Neville. Hermione put a hand on his arm.
"Harry?" He shushed her with a wave of his hand as he nodded at Neville. The man looked at him for several silent moments. Then he raised the sword between them, the blade still covered in blackening blood. His eyes lingered on the blade for several seconds before refocusing on Harry.
"No." Harry's eyes widened slightly.
"No?"
"No. I have courage. I drew the sword in time of need. And I lead the students while you were away. But it was you that undertook the quest. Facing the unknown, hunting down the darkness and finishing it off. I held the fort while you won the battle. If you had fallen I'd take up the reigns of Gryffindor without a second thought. But they are rightfully yours. Loyalty and dedication will be my hallmarks as surly as courage and daring are yours. I'll take Hufflepuff. They could use a bit more fire in their bellies anyway." He set the sword over his shoulder and looked out over the castle as if trying to picture his new domain.
"How heartwarming." Harry turned to Malfoy, who had a similar look in his eye. "I'll do it Potter. If only to make sure Longbottom here doesn't infect the house with reckless audacity." His gaze continued on and fell on Hermione. The firmness in her face had gained something else. A determination toward a goal.
"Hermione?"
"I'd do anything for you Harry. You know that. But…how will we rebuild the castle?" He smiled a little.
"Same as it was built the first time. One piece at a time." His eyes focused tightly and he turned to look at the ruins. "Let's begin." Extending his hand toward the wreckage of the Great Hall he focused his mind and waited. Several seconds later a small stick came whirling out of the destruction and slapped firmly into his hand. He headed back down to the bridge with the others in tow. Reaching the first flagstone he knelt and touched the tip of the Elder Wand to the pavement. "Reparo." The thrum of power was audible as it coursed through his hand and into the structure.
Pulsing out from the wand the broken and battered flagstone began to mend itself. Scorch marks erased, bits of blasted railing regrew and the whole run leveled out up to the main gate where the spell slowed down and stopped just before it began to rebuild the arch. Harry smiled. It would take time. But it could be done.
Stepping into the main courtyard they heard a noise. Waiting for a moment they were surprised to see Kreacher peering around a corner. Seeing them he ducked back and emerged a moment later with several more house elves that were surrounding a group of students. They were young. All third and fourth year and younger. They must have been hidden in the kitchen when the attack began.
Harry smiled despite the horrified looks on the students' faces. That much life in one place gave him no other option. "Malfoy, your wand is in the great hall. Come one everyone. Our students are. Let's get to work."
(A/N): If you feel it is warranted go ahead and review. I welcome any and all opinions.