Disclaimer: Credit to J. K. Rowling for creating the magical world of Harry Potter, all characters, settings etc. belong to her.
I read a few different idea's of life after Hogwarts so thank you to all the people who inspired me to write this.
This story takes place between 3rd May 1998 – 1st September 2017.
Harry awoke groggy, despite the fact that he took the night sky, just visible through a gap in the hangings of his four poster, to mean that it was night time; he'd slept all day. He sat up slowly, his body aching nearly everywhere so that it seemed to pulse and throb whenever he moved in it the slightest, but he finally accomplished a sloughed position, propped up against his pillows.
He reached into the darkness, his hand searching his bedside table for his glasses, locating then and then putting them on; but the effect was minimal. The room was pitch black, and the only light came from the long window through which stars were visible.
Just then Harry smelled something wonderful, too wonderful at this present time to mean he was awake, although dreams don't usually hurt this much. He reached for his wand where he felt it lying beside his glasses and whispered, "Lumos."
Immediately he was bathed in pure white light which threw stark contrast to the bruises and scratches covering his skin. The shock of seeing them momentarily distracted him, but the wonderful smell came across him again then, recapturing his attention. He turned the wand towards the table, for that seemed to be where the smell was coming from, and saw a large slice of steak and kidney pie sat there, the heat still rising from it.
He grabbed it without thinking, scoffing it down so fast it burned his throat, but he didn't care. He didn't realise how ravenous he'd been. He put the clean plate back down and thought with a pang of the steak and kidney pie he should have been there to eat all those months ago and made a mental note to apologise to Kreacher when he got back to Grimmauld Place.
But Kreacher isn't at Grimmauld Place, Harry thought suddenly, Kreacher's here. He glanced back at the empty plate and realised Kreacher must have brought the pie up for him, and that the sound of him disapperating was probably what roused Harry.
He sat up and swung round, opening the hangings and placing his feet on the cold floor so he was sat on the edge of his bed. "Kreacher," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping forms of Ron and Hermione in the next bed, realising too late that they would probably awaken when Kreacher appeared. Sure enough the crack echoed loudly in the quiet room, but luckily they didn't wake, merely stirred before drifting off again, wrapped in each others' arms.
"Master-," began Kreacher, a little too loudly.
"Shh," Harry whispered, indicating Ron and Hermione with a point of his finger.
"Master called Kreacher," he continued, dropping his voice to just above a whisper. "Did sir enjoy his pie? Kreacher made it himself and brought it up here like sir told him to. Would master like some treacle tart?" He asked, producing it from behind his back, "Kreacher knows it's sir's favourite."
"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry taking the tart and eating it in Ron-sized proportions. He set the empty plate with that of the pie before turning to Kreacher.
"That was wonderful, Kreacher, I'm sorry I couldn't have tasted it all months ago... You see we accidently brought a deatheater back with us," said Harry, trying to remember back, it felt like years had passed between then and now. "We had to apparate again to get away from him. I'm sorry we left you there with him, but it was too risky to try and call you. Did he hurt you?"
"Kreacher went to welcome sir home, announce that dinner was on the table, but Kreacher saw the man who came in and he was not my master. Kreacher went and hid sir. He made lots of mess; Kreacher had to tidy afterwards sir."
"Why did he search for us? Snape had already..." He trailed off as a tightening sensation took place in his chest. If someone had told Harry seven years ago that he would one day feel grief for Severus Snape he probably would have thought they were crazy; but now...
"Kreacher," he said suddenly. "Kreacher I need you to do something for me. Do you know the Shrieking Shack?" He went on to describe exactly what he wanted Kreacher to do.
"Does sir wish me to inform him when it's done?"
"Yes. Thank you, Kreacher," Harry told the elf sincerely.
Kreacher bowed a little lower than usual, and then with another crack disappeared. This crack, however, did not go unnoticed and Harry saw Ron and Hermione stir, just out of reach of the glow from his wand.
There was a low grunt from Ron followed by Hermione saying, "OW! Ron, wake up! Ron! My arm's not supposed to bend at this angle. RON!"
The next thing Harry heard was a crash as Ron fell out of bed, Hermione having pushed him off of her. He rolled into view, half wrapped in his hangings.
"Harry," he said in a tone of half-surprise. "What time is it?"
He picked up his wand from where it lay on his bed and directed it at his watch. "Just after midnight," he replied.
"We've been asleep all day?" Hermione asked, sounding dazed. "But...shouldn't someone have found us by now, surely they'll have looked; especially for you Harry."
"Well I did colloportus and muffliato when we came in here, so as far as I know the only person who knows we're here is Kreacher and he's... He's doing something at the minute."
He got up then and turned on the lamp for something to do to distract himself, but the looks of confusion were still on their faces when he sat back down. Ron had managed to disentangle himself from the hangings and was now sat on the edge of his bed next to Hermione, rubbing his arm where he landed on it.
"I asked him to go and get Snape's body. To take care of him...it...him, and put...put him with the others."
"Oh Harry," Hermione cried, leaving Ron's side and wrapping an arm round his shoulders.
"I'm okay," he assured her. "I just thought that after...everything...he deserves a proper send off just like everyone else."
"Blimey Harry, never thought that'd come from you," Ron exclaimed.
"Ron," whispered Hermione, her voice full of sympathy. Harry remembered too. Here he was talking about Snape when his own best friend had lost a brother. Hermione had sat next to him again, a comforting hand on his arm.
"I thought you'd forgotten."
"Oh course I didn't forget but-," she protested.
"Relax, I was joking," he said wrapping his arms around her. "He'd like that; joking. Like George when he lost his ear... Hey!" He exclaimed suddenly, causing Hermione to jump in shock. "If Snape was the good guy how come he-."
"He was aiming for a deatheater; he missed," said Harry, cutting across Ron's protests.
Hermione laid her head back on Ron's shoulder, his outburst having disturbed her. Harry could see the tears glistening on her face from his still lit wand and realising he no longer needed it muttered "Nox."
They sat in silence for a while after that, thinking of those they'd lost. Fred, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Collin and although the deaths weren't as fresh, Harry added more names; Dobby, Tonks' father, Mad-Eye, Hedwig, Dumbledore, Sirius, Cedric, his parents. All of them lost...
"I'm starving," said Ron, breaking the silence.
"Oh, honestly Ron, only you could think of food at a time like this," said Hermione disapprovingly.
"What do you mean? It's not like we're in the middle of a battle anymore. Battle's over. Harry won!" He said with such enthusiasm that Harry couldn't help but smile. He was about to correct him and say 'we won', but Ron's attention was otherwise occupied... He had spotted Harry's empty plates.
"Hey! You've eaten! Where did you get it?"
Harry stifled a laugh, amazed at how much Ron's stomach ruled him. "Kreacher brought it for me. I asked him to before I fell asleep, and," he said raising his voice to stop Ron from interrupting, "I didn't ask him to bring you anything because you were sleeping and I didn't think you'd appreciate being woken up. You looked quite peaceful actually," he added in an undertone, smirking slightly.
Ron looked ready to argue, his face reddening by the second but Hermione cut across him, "Come on Ron, we can go down to the kitchens. Get you something to eat okay?" She, like Ron had also gone a shade of deep pink at Harry's words. Yet she still got up with dignity as she made her way to the door, Ron following after her after throwing a reproachful look at Harry.
"Alohomora," Hermione said, pointing her wand at the door. "Alohomora," she said again, frustrated, for her spell had not worked and still didn't. "Oh I really must get a new wand."
"Alohomora," Harry said from behind her, they turned and looked at him in surprise. "I want to walk," he told them in way of explanation. They didn't ask for an elaboration, seeming to understand, and so lead the way quietly down the staircase into the common room.
It was, surprisingly, empty. Harry had not known what he'd been expecting but it had not been this. He assumed most people must have taken refuge in the hospital wing for the night, but he still found it strange that there was no one about. Then he remembered it was after midnight and most people would probably be asleep in their beds. The last embers of a fire were still burning in the grate, throwing illumination to a girl curled up in an armchair, her vibrant red hair visible where it escaped over the arm.
Harry's heart seemed to jump into his throat at the sight of her. He could not remember the last time he'd really spoke to her and refused to believe his mind when it told him it had been on his birthday nearly a year ago. Had he ever took the time to appreciate just how beautiful she was before now?
Distracted as he was, he didn't notice Ron grind to a halt beside the portrait hole, or see Hermione grab hold of his arm and tug him after her; "I thought you were starving," she reminded him scathingly, raising and eyebrow as if daring him to contradict her. Grudgingly he let her lead him from the common room.
There was only Harry and Ginny there now. He sat down on the floor in front of her chair, trying to be quiet so he didn't disturb her. He sat and watched her for a while, but the reassurance he'd felt in Ron and Hermione's presence gradually seemed to evaporate and he soon found himself reaching out a hand towards her to make sure she was really real, and really there in front of him.
He stroked her hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen over her face. She stirred under his touch, turning her head upwards and kissing the palm of his hand.
"I've been waiting for you," she told him assuredly, even though her eyes were still closed. "Where were you?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.
"Sleeping," he told her honestly. "I put charms on the door, so don't worry if you couldn't get in. I didn't want to be disturbed."
She looked thoughtful for a moment and then whispered, "I thought you were dead."
Again he answered honestly. "I was."
She sighed and leaned back in the chair, before propelling herself out of it, straight at Harry. Her arms locked around his neck and her lips met his with such urgency that he was silenced into utter incomprehension. They fell back against the floor, a tangle of arms and legs.
"Ow," said Harry, him having hit his head on the floor as he fell backwards; it didn't stop her.
"I'm-sorry-well-not really-," she said between kisses.
She collapsed against his chest when they were both well and truly breathless. He held her tight against him, never wanting to let go.
"I'm glad you're not dead," she said with blunt honesty worthy of Luna. But Harry was extremely glad that it was not Luna Lovegood he had cradled against his chest, but Ginny Weasley, who he loved much much more.
It was later that morning that they were woken by the sounds of the first students to awaken coming down the stairs. The floor had grown uncomfortable quickly so they'd moved instead to one of the bigger sofas and curled up there. Harry didn't know if Ron and Hermione had come back, but Ron hadn't woken them if they had.
"Good morning," mumbled Ginny, stretching out beside him.
"Morning," replied Harry.
It seemed to really hit him then; he was alive, he had, amazingly, beaten the odds that were stacked high against him. Voldemort was no more. He, Harry, had survived to see the sunrise of another day.
He hadn't even noticed that Ginny had moved from beside him. "Shall we go to breakfast?" She asked, holding her hand out to him. He took it without thinking twice, stopping only to grab his cloak; he wouldn't wear it straight away, but he wanted to option to escape again, like he had yesterday.
She led the way as they went down to the great hall, her knowing which corridors were a no-go better than he did. He gave up watching where he was going eventually, preferring to watch her instead, but this caused him to trip rather a lot, and it didn't go unnoticed.
"Are you going to stop staring at me and walk," she told him without looking at him, "or do I have to drag you?" She had stopped and turned to face him. Her expression was rather like one Mrs Weasley would wear when she was telling them off, but of course, Ginny wasn't serious.
Harry wasn't sure why he did it then; something inside of him just took over. "Ginny," he began, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, although he was trying to be serious, "I love you."
Her previous expression seemed to melt from her features as speechlessness took its place. She didn't show signs of recovering soon.
"I'm hungry, let's go shall we?" Harry said, striding past her and holding out his hand, she took it blindly and let him pull her along for a ways, stopping him only when they were outside the great hall.
"Wait," she said, stopping in her tracks and pulling him to a halt in front of her. She walked up to him slowly, and when she stood mere inches away from him, stretched up and placed a tender kiss upon his lips. "I think I love you too."
Their moment of happiness was intruded upon however when, with a resounding crack, Kreacher appeared before them.
"Sorry to intrude sir, but master wanted me to inform him when the task was complete."
"Did you find what I asked for?" Harry asked eagerly while Ginny remained confused at his side.
"Kreacher could not find what you asked for on his person's, so Kreacher went to the house sir, like sir told Kreacher to," and he produced both the torn photo and the last lines of the letter that Lily had wrote to Sirius all those years ago.
He took them from Kreacher and reached up for the moleskin pouch that still hung around his neck. He extracted from it the rest of the letter and the other half of the photo. Giving the two pieces of the photograph to a still confused Ginny to hold, he held the two pieces of the letter together, took out his wand and said, "Reparo."
The tear sealed itself immediately, and Harry folded the now whole letter and placed it back in the pouch; now the photo. Taking it back from Ginny he repeated the process and held it out in front of him. Before, all that had been visible was himself shooting in and out of the frame, his father chasing after him, but now his mother also stood there, laughing gloriously at the both of them. Harry loved this picture more than any of the others that he had in his album. But he knew he wouldn't keep it.
Tearing the photo in two again he put the half with him and his father back in the pouch, then turned to address Kreacher. "Kreacher, where are they keeping the bodies? Where did you put Snape?"
"Snape? Harry, what..?"
"I'll explain later I promise," he said squeezing her hand.
"They're down in the dungeons sir, where it's cooler," Kreacher told him.
"Can you show me?" Harry asked, and Kreacher nodded.
He was about to follow the elf when Ginny tugged on his arm. "Harry, I can't...Fred's..." She trailed off, tears shining in her eyes. He understood. He didn't want to see anyone either, but he had to do this himself.
"I understand," he told her, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "I have to do this, I'll tell you why afterwards...I'll tell you everything," he said, realising that he needed her to know. It had been a relief just to tell Neville that Nagini had to be killed, he could only imagine how much better he would feel after telling Ginny every single detail that he'd never been able to before now.
"I'll be back soon," he assured her, kissing her forehead before departing, Kreacher scurrying along in front of him.
The Dungeon where the bodies were being kept was not one that Harry had ever ventured to before. It was colder than any of the others he'd been in though, he could feel it even in the corridors leading to the room, and he suspected that a charm had been placed upon the room to try and preserve everyone while arrangements were made for them to be moved or buried.
They were almost to the door when Professor McGonagall came bustling round the corner, her robes flapping behind her.
"Snape deserves to be kept with everyone else," Harry told her before she could get a word out. "Everything I said was true. It wasn't just some clever story to distract Voldemort."
She still looked like she was likely to object; her eyebrows pulled down at the centre and her lips were pursed.
"The proofs in the Headmasters office if you don't believe me," he told her, trying to keep his temper. "I'll take you myself, but I have to do something first." And he strode straight past her and into the room.
He was extremely thankful that Kreacher had placed Snape close to the entrance of the room; he didn't think he could bear it if he'd had to walk between all the people who had died. All the people who had lost their lives to Lord Voldemort to keep him, Harry, safe; he hated knowing that some of these people may still be alive if he hadn't got lucky as a baby, and had died like he was supposed to.
He regretted thinking it as soon as he'd thought it; as he knew that many more people than those in this room would be dead if he had not lived.
He snapped out of his revive and bent down next to the man he had once hated. Kreacher had dressed the worst of the wounds, and although he was still a horrifying shade of white from blood loss, he seemed to look much more peaceful than the last time Harry had knelt beside him.
Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he extracted from it the photograph of Lily. He stared at it for a moment, trying to memorise her face in his mind, for he would never see this picture again. He sighed and then turned the picture over. He put it carefully in the pocket of Snape's robes, trying not to touch him, for he knew that could send him over the edge.
He got up, and walked to the door, where he stood hesitating. "Thank you," he said, and although he'd meant to address the room as a whole, his words seemed to fall only upon the man to whom he the words meant a little more.
He strode quickly from the corridor where they were, to the adjacent corridor where he'd left McGonagall stood. Like before he didn't let her speak, choosing instead to walk straight past her, assuming she'd follow him. As he emerged from the dungeons he realised Kreacher was still following at his heels, so he slowed down so he could address him more easily.
"Kreacher, could you help repair the castle for the time being?" He asked, and without a word to Harry the elf turned and scurried off in the opposite direction.
McGonagall didn't speak the whole time, as they made their way slowly but surely up to the Headmasters study. Harry had to check she was still following more than once, but sure enough whenever he looked behind him she was still there, picking her way through the rubble strewn corridors, curiosity pulling her forwards.
That stumped Harry for a moment, hadn't she usually believed him in the past? Why now, when it was something that he had no reason to lie about, was she choosing to doubt him? Harry was distracted however when they rounded the corner; somebody had repaired the damage here and the gargoyle that stood guard was once again standing straight, though a little worse for wear.
"Professor, the gargoyle wasn't standing yesterday, I don't know the password," he told her feebly.
"No, Potter, but I do," she said, coming to a stop beside Harry and turning to face him. "Don't tell me you forgot that I am Deputy Headmistress, acting Headmistress currently, until another Head is appointed." She sighed and then turned to face the gargoyle. "Chocolate frog," she told it and it sprang aside.
"Chocolate frog?"
"It seemed a shame to break from tradition," she replied simply.
Just like yesterday the portraits of the previous heads of Hogwarts started to applaud at the sight of Harry, but today he held his hand up for them to be silent a little sooner.
"Where is your evidence then Potter?"
"On the desk," he said, pointing to where the pensieve still sat. "Do you mind looking alone Professor, you'll understand why I don't want to see it again after you've seen it."
She gave a nod then lowered her face into the strange substance that was, currently, Snape's memories. Harry waited patiently for her to reappear, letting his eyes wander the room around him, but something kept bringing his eyes back to the man whose grand portrait had pride of place in this office.
Albus Dumbledore was surveying Harry most thoughtfully from behind his half-moon spectacles, his eyes x-raying Harry, giving him the feeling that he was not in fact examining Harry, but rather an interestingly shaped crack in the wall behind him. Harry stared deep into those piercingly blue eyes, and was sure that Dumbledore was trying to convey something. Sure enough his eyes gave a tiny flick to the right, so he was looking at the patch of bare wall beside his portrait, and Harry understood.
McGonagall reappeared then her eyes full of sympathy for Harry. "Potter-," she began, but Harry cut across her. This was more important than anything she would say to him about those memories.
"Professor, why isn't there a portrait of Snape? Don't all Headmasters get a portrait after they die?" He was looking straight at McGonagall as he said it but he saw Dumbledore smile in his frame behind her head.
"Yes they do, Harry," she told him, regaining her normal composure. "I shall see to it at once." And with that she strode past him out of the office presumably to go and find Filch to help her put up the portrait.
Harry stood for a second, then making up his mind he walked forwards, coming to a stop in front of the desk. The flask Hermione had conjured, which he had used to transport the silvery substance, was still there, laid on its side. He picked it up tentatively, then taking his wand from his pocket, touched the surface of the pensieve and stowed Snape's memories back in the flask. Whether he would ever browse their contents again he wasn't sure, but if ever a day came when old thoughts of Severus Snape started to enter his mind, he would look to this to stop them. And with one last look around the office, he turned on his heel and departed.
Ginny was waiting for him when he made it back down to the great hall, breakfast was finished but she had a stack of toast in her hands for him. He took it from her greedily, not even saying "hi," until he had eaten at least two slices, she stood giggling at him; he didn't even notice as Ron and Hermione came through the doors leading to the grounds and walked over to them.
"Mum and dad have gone," he told Ginny, then seeing Harry's confused look turned to him to explain. He seemed to take a minute before speaking; Hermione squeezed his hand, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. "They've took…," he seemed to stumble his way across saying Fred's name. "They said we could stay here and wait for you. George, Percy, Bill and Fleur have gone to. Mum said you're to stay at the Burrow with us; 'no is not an answer,'" he said, imitating his mother's voice perfectly.
Harry smiled despite the sadness he felt inside him. Ginny moved and wrapped her arm round his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. He sensed the growing dampness as tears escaped from the corners of her eyes.
"Let's go for a walk," Harry suggested, wrapping his arm around Ginny's shoulders and pulling her towards the doors.
It was warm outside despite the early hour, the bright sunlight throwing illumination to all the destruction on the grounds of the castle. There was rubble everywhere, sometimes in piles, and other times it looked as if whole pieces of wall had been blasted out and had landed, still intact, on the ground below; once with a very distressed portrait still attached to it.
Harry didn't know where he was walking too exactly, but when their destination came into view, he was not surprised to see the same beech tree where they had spent so many other beautiful days. Harry sat at the base of the tree, resting his head against it, Ginny curled up at his side; Hermione sat on the grass though, curling her legs under her. Ron stretched dramatically before lying down, his head in her lap. She stroked his hair absentmindedly.
"I'm going to tell her everything," he told Ron and Hermione, and he felt Ginny perk up at his side.
Ron sighed. "I knew you would, mate," he told Harry. "Just don't let mum find out," he warned them.
Ginny had shifted slightly so she could watch Harry as he spoke; he turned to her and said, "Well it all sort of starts before Voldemort was even born…" And with a deep breath, he launched into his tale.
He really did tell her everything; he must have talked for hours. She gasped every now and again, sometimes in shock for the things he was saying, sometimes in understanding as bits of information that she had picked up over the years finally fell into place. Harry knew how she must be feeling; he'd come across the information gradually and it had been overwhelming, to receive it all at once…
Ginny was strong though, and she eventually settled back into her first position, although she still didn't say anything. But what do you say to that?
Their collective silence was broken then, and great booming barks could be heard in the distance. Harry knew who they belonged to; Hagrid's great boarhound, Fang. Hagrid. Harry had barely said two words to him in yesterday's aftermath before he was being pulled in another direction, shaking another hand, receiving another congratulations...
"I should go see Hagrid," he told them all. "Talk to him. I mean…he had to carry me when he thought…"
"We'll come too Harry," Hermione told him. "Won't we Ron?" She said rather sternly as he had started to mumble complaints at the thought of moving.
Ginny however remained silent, happy for the moment just to follow Harry and spend time with him, having lost a whole year, they both realised time is precious.
As they made their way back across the grounds, Fang's barks got steadily louder until Hagrid's hut eventually came into view. Next to it Harry could see a huge grey mound, it's chest steadily rising and falling; Grawp was asleep.
Fang bounded over to Harry when he saw him, jumping up and placing his big paws on Harry's shoulders. Hagrid must have been looking out the window for he came striding out the door at that moment. "Fang, ger off! Yeh big, stu-" He froze mid word after pulling Fang off Harry. Obviously he hadn't been looking closely.
All was still, then Hagrid cried; "'Arry," and pulled Harry into one of his strongest, rib-breaking hugs. Ginny had had to leap backwards to avoid being struck by Hagrid's arm, and was now stood breathing heavily, her hand over her heart. Harry got the impression that he had stepped under a showerhead as Hagrid's tears landed on his head, big and heavy, wetting his hair.
"Ron! 'Ermione!" And Harry suddenly felt to more bodies being crushed next to his. His hearing capabilities were pretty limited by this point but he thought he heard Ginny giggling in the background.
"Come on Hagrid," he heard her say, "let's get you inside. Have a drink, okay?" He must have obeyed for his hold on Harry slackened and he discovered he could breathe again.
"Thank you," he told her as they made their way into Hagrid's hut.
Hagrid was sat at the table, tears still finding their way into his bushy beard. Hermione had taken over the duty of making the tea and was busy at the stove. Ron was sat next to Hagrid, patting his arm, trying to console him, but occasionally found himself patting thin air when he became distracted by Hermione. Harry sat down on Hagrid's other side and Ginny squeezed in next to him, grabbing his hand under the table.
Hagrid had calmed down by the time Hermione had set bucket sized mugs in front of them all. And was now congratulating Harry, using every string of words he could think of.
He had just taken a mouthful of tea, and setting his mug down he turned to Ginny. "Don't normally see yeh 'ere," he said, not in the rude way, merely curious.
Ginny tried to tell him an explanation but all that she seemed to be able to come up with was vowel sounds. Harry, feeling embarrassed, tried to hide his face in his mug, but when he lifted it, it overbalanced in his hand. His other hand shot up instinctively to try and catch it before it smashed and sent hot tea everywhere, revealing his and Ginny's interlocked hands for a moment before he managed to rescue the cup and set if safely back on the table; his face a lovely shade of tomato.
Hagrid chuckled knowingly then lent down so he was closer to Harry's level. "Always though yeh'd make a good couple," he told him, to the sounds of chuckling from Ron, which stopped suddenly and Harry looked up to see him reaching down for his foot, Hermione having stomped on it.
After their second cup they all felt it was time to be going, so making their excuses they left Hagrid's and headed back towards the castle. None of them had noticed the Malfoys making their way towards the gates, beyond which they could disapperate.
"Harry..?" Narcissa called tentatively.
Harry turned automatically and found three bodies protecting him from sight. "Guys, it's okay; trust me." He gave Ginny's hand an assuring squeeze as she seemed the most reluctant to let go, then walked over to where the Malfoys were stood.
Narcissa took a step forward to meet him so she stood slightly away from her family. "Thank you," she told him, much to Harry's surprise. "Thank you for saving Draco." He looked for some small sign that she was about to laugh and tell him that he needn't have saved Draco, and that he was perfectly capable of getting out by himself; but everything in her face told him she was genuine.
"Thank you for telling Voldemort I was dead." Harry replied.
He was about to walk away when Draco shuffled forwards to where his mother was stood, and held out his hand. Harry shook it, feeling a similar disbelief to that he had experienced when Dudley had done the same thing. Having your life saved must really do something to you.
They had both turned and started to walk away when Harry remembered that he still had Draco's wand. "Wait," he called, running forwards. "Here," and he held the wand forwards.
"Thanks," Draco said with a half smile, and then they turned and walked away, only this time Harry let them.
"What was all that about?" Ron asked when Harry had rejoined them.
"They said thank you, then I gave Malfoy his wand back. And that's not the only wand I have to give back," he said to himself more than them and immediately changed direction, heading for the lake. They all followed, Hermione the only one without a confused look on her face. And it wasn't till they had reached the white tomb that Ron and Ginny understood.
"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked Harry for the hundredth time.
"Yes Ron, I'm sure…and don't try to disarm me," he warned as he reached into his robes for the elder wand, before climbing over the broken marble.
It was much harder to be close to Dumbledore than it had been with Snape. But he said he would put the elder wand back where it came from. Like so many other things lately, it had to be him. He did it quickly, re-securing the wrappings when he was done.
It was easier getting back over the marble and he was soon back next to the others. "Sleep well," he said, then reached into his robes for his wand and noticed Ron, Hermione and Ginny had all done the same.
"Reparo," they all shouted and the marble flew back together, seamless and perfect as if it had never been broken at all.
Dumbledore was finally at rest, encased in his white tomb once more; and up in the Headmasters office, Albus smiled.
After arriving back at the castle they all headed back to the Gryffindor tower, wasting no time in collecting whatever possessions they had left there, pulling their efforts together to try and squeeze Ginny's trunk into Hermione's bag, purely for the ease of transporting it.
It fit eventually, so they walked down to the entrance hall, virtually luggage free. Just as they were crossing the entrance hall McGonagall burst through the doors of the great hall, the few students remaining just starting lunch.
"Ahh, Potter," she said, walking over to where they had stopped. "I've been wanting a word with you. You see, although I have been able to contact families of everyone that lost their lives here...well; Professor Snape had no family. I will make arrangements for him if you wish but, well...I was wondering if you wanted to do anything for him?"
Harry thought it over for a minute and she waited patiently for him to decide. On the one hand the thought of planning a funeral was not something Harry wanted to think about currently, but there was a stronger desire deep inside of him to do something for the man who had sworn to protect him and lost his life in the process.
"I want to do it," he told her. "Could I come back tomorrow and get..?"
"I shall send him somewhere for you if you like, Potter," she offered kindly.
He thought about it for a second, the idea having already formed in his mind as soon as he started thinking of burying Snape. He knew of only one place where he could see him lying forever, even though he knew Snape wouldn't have liked it.
"Godric's Hollow," he said.
McGonagall looked a little displeased, but accepted his decision none the less. "Then there's just the matter of Voldemort," she said rather reluctantly. "I've had words with the remaining Order members and the Ministry but no one can come to a conclusion. I was curious as to whether you had an opinion. It's as much your decision as everyone else's, perhaps more so."
Harry had sensed something like this would be asked of him, and the thought had played at the back of his mind, him refusing to answer it; but now the time came to.
"Fiendfyre," he said. "He didn't have a normal body so why should he be buried as if he had." Everyone remained silent, not wanting to discuss this, not wanting to think about it… And just a little scared that Harry had.
"Professor," he said uncertainly, "could I have the ashes when it's done? I know what I want to do with them."
"Very well, Potter," she remained composed as she spoke despite the shock Harry could see in her eyes. "Ahh, Miss Weasley," she said, turning her attention to Ginny. "You are travelling home by side-along apparition I presume? That's one less to take care of then. We've set up portkeys for any remaining students but if you prefer to travel with Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr Potter then that is perfectly understandable."
"What'll happen to Hogwarts, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Oh I dare say it'll be restored to its former glory by September. You three are welcome to come back and complete you final year if you wish, I'm offering any students who did not attend the chance to finish their education. Seventh years are allowed to repeat their studies as well; Merlin knows they won't have learnt much this year."
Hermione's eyes lit up at the chance of being able to return but Harry knew he wouldn't; not without Dumbledore as Headmaster.
"No thank you, Professor," he told her politely. "No offence, but it's just not the same without Dumbledore."
"I quite understand Potter; what about you Mr Weasley? Will you be joining us?"
Ron seemed to debate for a second but then said, "And be in the same year as my sister? No thanks. I'll think I'll ask George if I can work at the shop for a bit. I was gonna go there in the summer anyway. He'll need a hand now…"
"Professor, you said you managed to contact everyone. Has Andromeda been for Lupin and Tonks?" Harry asked.
"Yes, she came yesterday; poor woman. She said a funeral will be held at her local church next Sunday for them. You will no doubt be invited when you get back to the Burrow."
"Sunday, that's good," said Ron. "Saturday, you know..?" He mumbled.
"Thank you, Professor. Goodbye," Harry said, sensing everyone's need to leave, to go home.
They turned, leaving McGonagall to watch after them till they were gone from her view. The walk to the gates seemed to span forever, and it was with relief that they finally passed through and beyond them. Ron and Hermione left quickly leaving Harry and Ginny stood alone.
"Hold on tight, and close your eyes." And taking her in his arms, spun on the spot, then they were gone.
I apologise for any remaining mistakes, but this story hasn't been looked over by a beta. Feel free to point them out to me if you find any.