Harry sat down heavily and rolled his shoulders, feeling his neck pop and a thimbleful of the ocean of tension melt out of him.
Ginny was asleep on the couch in the lounge of Grimauld Place with Crookshanks curled around her legs. Ron and Hermione hadn't been seen in hours, disappeared to one of the guest bedrooms. Kreacher had returned from the battle with six young House Elves who had begged to swear their oath to Harry and the House of Black-Potter. They could be heard working in the kitchen. One, a young male named Bapta seemed to have a genuine knack for sandwiches and there was half a chicken and brie melt resting on table next to the largest couch.
Harry stood, unable to rest and paced to the fireplace blazing with a freshly laid blaze prepared by Varop, another new Elf. Resting his hands on the carved marble, he closed his eyes.
Voldemort's corpse had been removed to the Ministry of Magic while Harry had been treated for his injuries. The ministry would take a great deal of work to clear up. Dolores Umbridge had been delivered to Hogwarts at death's door, patched up and been sent directly to Azkaban along with the handful of surviving Death Eaters. The bodies of Albert Runcorn and the entire department responsible for the investigations of blood status had been found on the front steps of the Ministry of Magic. Pious Thickness had been de-transfigured and, discovering the crimes which he had overseen had immediately tried to commit suicide, which had further taxed the already completely overwhelmed staff at St. Mungo's. The Centaur Bane had died in the last few minutes of the battle without naming a successor to the leadership of the tribe, thrusting their future into uncertainty. Firenze had temporary backing of the herd and had taken them back to the Forbidden Forest after securing Harry's word that they would be left in peace until they sent an envoy to the humans. Shacklebolt, the acting Minister for Magic had supported Harry's choice and the Forbidden Forest was now off-limits to everyone. Plans were underway to exterminate the acromantula presence from the forest and… so many other things.
Harry rested his forehead against the cold marble and sighed. His meeting with Dumbledore between had shaken him to the core. He looked at the greatest of the armchairs at the Peverell invisibility cloak and wondered, not for the first time, if he should have kept the stone and wand. His own wand felt strange now, not better or worse, but different, like he'd always been wearing gloves while wielding it to the point where he'd returned the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's tomb.
As for the stone… he'd regretted losing that as soon as he'd dropped it. Telling Dumbledore that he wasn't going to fetch it had torn his heart in two.
He turned back to the room and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. His wand was on the table beside his sandwich and he reached for it. When his fingers were inches from the holly sheathe protecting Fawkes' feather the wand jumped into his hand.
Blinking, he shook his head and placed the wand back on the table. Standing back, he reached out and willed it toward him. It shot unerringly to his fingers.
'Different.' He muttered under his breath.
He tried the same thing again, this time from several feet away and the wand just leapt to his hand.
Placing the wand back down he muttered the most basic spell he could think of. 'Lumos.'
The wand shone forth its pale silvery light.
'Nox.' The light died. Ginny mumbled something in her sleep and turned over.
Harry collected the wand and walked out into the garden. It was a clear night, warm and still. His bare feet scrunched on the newly cut grass. He yawned, a reflex from his exhausted brain that was fighting itself. He sat on a stone bench that had been transfigured straight out of the living earth.
'What now?' he said, asking the stars.
'Now? Now you rest, Harry Potter.' A woman's voice said, soft and full of rest. 'You rest, for there is a great deal more work to do.'
Harry's chin sagged forward and he rolled down onto his side, fast asleep.