Author's Note: I am obviously not JK Rowling - I do not own this content.
While I'm keeping the events of the books and the battle relatively the same in this fanfic there is one thing I am changing - Fred's death was stopped with some clever wand work from Percy. I hated that Fred died (well really that any of them died, but I was so not ok with his death and what that would do to his brother) and having Percy save him seemed logical to help fix the relationship between himself and the family. Would I like to bring back Tonks and Remus? Yes of course, but it didn't work out that way.
Chapter 1:
The battle was over; the war had been won. But what came next? No one was quite sure.
The sun was setting in Scotland, a beautiful sight that left no indication of the events that had transpired the night before and into that morning. As Hermione sat overlooking the grounds of what had once been her home, it became obvious that the hardest part of the job was yet to come. Dealing with the chaos in the aftermath of such violence and bloodshed. She had gone outside for a breath of air and a moment of calm but she would not find that. After all, there were bodies to be buried, injuries to tend to, and a new order to be established. Where would she go? What would her life amount to now that the chasing of Horcruxes and the constant fighting against the Death Eaters was at an end? She couldn't seem to remember a time in the last 7 years when there hadn't been that urgency to go and fight for one cause or another. Besides that, she couldn't stop seeing their bodies everywhere she looked. Colin. Tonks. Remus. It could have been even more catastrophic, she knew. Thinking about how Percy had narrowly managed to save Fred from certain death and how Molly had saved Hermione, Luna, and Ginny from Bellatrix, she knew there were countless times that she and each of her friends had narrowly missed death that night. She shuddered. The magic and joy of this castle would forever be marred in her mind by the corpses they had moved from where they had fallen on the grounds. Hours of searching for and moving bodies - both of their dead and the other side, many of them much too young - would haunt her.
She heard a noise and whipped around only to notice Ginny making her way towards where Hermione had taken a seat. The younger girl sat and placed her head on Hermione's shoulder and in turn Hermione let her head rest on Ginny's. There was no need for words in that moment. Each knew the other was struggling and neither had the courage or the energy to break the silence. They were soon joined by another presence, a soft wisp of blonde settled on Ginny's other side and leaned in. After a time she spoke softly, "I suppose they'll come looking for us soon". Hermione surveyed the serene landscape. When she spotted a herd of thestrals at the edge of the forest, her breath caught in her throat and she bolted upright. Ginny and Luna both looked up and then looked out where Hermione's gaze was fixed. They knew instantly what she was thinking. How many students would be able to see those creatures when they came back to the school the next year and how many lives had been irrevocably altered. Eventually the three, sisters throughout all of this hardship, would rise and walk together towards the castle.
Inside the castle, the damage was much more clear without the beautiful backdrop of the forest or the lake to offset it. The main goal at hand was for the living to have their wounds tended to by Madame Pomfrey and Healers from St Mungos. Hermione had been fortunate, while there had been a few injuries she had been unaware of due to the adrenaline of the fight including a few bruised ribs and a sprained wrist, she had faired well with only scratches and bruises that would heal. Compared to her torture in the manor, this was infinitely easier to handle. The healers had attempted to heal the scars that snaked down her arm, but Bellatrix had used dark magic to create them and the offending white lines would be stuck with her for the rest of her life, Bellatrix's brand. The rest of the Order, who were still alive had managed about as well as she had. None of them had gone unscathed physically. Emotionally, who could say what damage had been done?
They also had the task of dealing with the dead. The Order and those who had remained to help had gone about and retrieved all of the bodies they could find to bring them into the castle. The corpses of the fallen filled the Great Hall. Those of the Death Eaters and their Allies had been moved elsewhere in the castle away from those they had viciously slain. The body of their biggest enemy, Tom Riddle himself, was in a room of its own and was being guarded around the clock by members of the Order until they could figure out what to do with it.
Hermione had drawn the 0200 to 0600 shift for guarding the corpse of their foe. She yawned as she made her way to the small classroom where the body had been stashed. Relieving the exhausted Weasley twins and Hagrid from their shift, she settled herself where she could see the majority of the room and its entrances. Professor Sprout and Percy Weasley were positioned equidistant from her around the room to ensure everything was covered. Hermione couldn't help but note the sheet covered mass on the floor in the center of the room. She shivered slightly and turned her attention back to the rest of the room. While she had not wanted to be stuck on guard duty, she knew that there was no way around it. None of them wanted to be there. In fact, there had been a large disagreement amongst many of them about whether they should even take the time to stand guard, which a few worried could be misconstrued as respect, or just leave the body there and hope that no one tampered with it or stole it. Duty called, however, and a majority of the Order had acknowledged that there must be guards nearby. As a consolidation, they also set up an honor guard in the Great Hall.
Hermione looked down at her watch and sighed - it was only 0230 and she was already exhausted but she would only be able to sleep for a few hours before serving on the honor guard to watch over her fallen friends. Colin. Remus. Tonks. She looked skyward for a moment to get herself back under control and then let her eyes drift back down to the rest of the room.
Eventually, a decision was made as to who would take on the position of interim Minister of Magic until a formal vote could be conducted. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been unanimously decided upon by an emergency council consisting of Wizengamot leaders and a few senior members of the Order who were helping to rebuild the government. He was the one who had suggested the quick unmarked burial of Tom Riddle in an underground concrete vault sealed by the magic of 12. Of course, they didn't want any shrine or anything available for his followers to go to and they definitely didn't want anyone trying to move him or use a Polyjuice potion to convince others that he had never died. The 12 members of the New Order who were chosen would all have to be gathered together to undo the enchantments they would place. Hermione looked around the circle at the others who stood with her, although she could barely make out their faces in the darkness. Harry Potter, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ron Weasley, Dedalus Diggle, Minerva McGonagall, Hestia Jones, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and herself had all been chosen to cast the enchantments that would ensure an uninterrupted rest for Tom Riddle. No one had spoken as they approached what would be Riddle's final resting place. No words of comfort were uttered over the corpse before it was placed in its grave. There were none to give. A dozen sets of charms were cast and upon deeming them complete and the grave properly hidden, the group departed never to return to the spot. There was still much to be done and no one wanted to waste another moment in the company of the one who had caused all of it.
