A/N: This story takes place right after Harry and Voldemort's battle in the DH: Part 2 movie, so it tries to follow movie canon rather than book canon, and is meant to just be a bit of ridiculousness.

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Harry's eyes slid closed as he fell to his knees with relief and exhaustion. It was finally over.

He remained in that position, regaining his breath, the Hawthorne wand that had been Draco Malfoy's in his right hand, the Elder Wand clenched tightly in his left. He could feel his breath slowly returning to normal as fragments of the darkest wizard of the age drifted gently away. Silence stretched on. He wasn't sure what he was expecting: a cheer to break out, some excited murmuring maybe, but there was nothing. Lifting his head, he glanced around.

The courtyard was deserted.

"Oh, come on," he moaned. "Seriously? Did no one else see that?" He climbed shakily to his feet, still looking around. "Well great. I guess I'll just have to go inside and let everyone know that Voldemort is dead and he dissolved into a bunch of little pieces that floated away." He sighed heavily, "Yeah…that should go over well."

He stood there for a moment longer, staring at the place where Voldemort had met his end and relishing the cool breeze against his face. At least until the breeze blew something into his eye. "Crap!" he muttered, rubbing his eye fiercely. "Please tell me I did not just get some Voldy in my eye." Cursing under his breath, and still clutching one wand in each hand, he turned his back and stalked up toward the castle.

Climbing the stairs to the entrance hall, he could hear sounds of battle still coming from inside. He made his way across piles of rubble to reach the hall and stood in the doorway taking in the scene. Off to the side, he could see Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley conjuring rope to tie up some of the captured Death Eaters. Small pockets of fighting were still going on, but it seemed, overall, the battle had ended. Most of the Death Eaters had been killed, captured, or had fled. Still, he witnessed Percy and George Weasley dueling a masked Death Eater, while a cluster of students had surrounded two more nearby. Before he could take in any more of the scene, a flurry of movement to his left caught his attention.

"Harry!" a wave of brown hair took over his vision as Hermione threw herself into his arms. "We thought you..." she trailed off as she pulled away, unsure of how to finish her sentence.

Ron looked at him for a moment, then embraced Harry tightly. "We thought we'd lost you, mate." He cleared his throat as he released Harry, awkwardly taking a step backwards. "So, Neville killed the snake. What's next? Where's Voldemort?"

"He's dead," Harry announced simply. "It's over."

"You did it," Hermione responded, her voice nearly a whisper. "We've got to let everyone know."

Harry nodded in response and turned his attention back to the hall. No one else seemed to be paying him any attention. "Excuse me!" he called out, to no avail. "Can I have your attention!" he tried again. Frustrated, he directed one of the wands he was holding at his own throat. "Sonorus," he muttered, amplifying his voice.

"Oi, Voldemort is dead. It's over!" His voice rang out, and everyone fell silent. The Death Eaters still fighting seemed to freeze at his words, and were quickly over taken. Harry found that he was too tired and too agitated to feel embarrassment regarding all the eyes that were now upon him. Then, all at once, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause and cheers, and Harry felt his agitation melting away. This was more what he was expecting. Ever since he found out about magic, it seemed his life had been dedicated to fighting Voldemort, and that was finally over. He, along with all of the people cheering in that hall, had finally won.

The crowd threatened to engulf him, but three figures fought their ways towards him, somehow managing to keep the surging mob of people at bay. By the time Kingsley, McGonagall, and Mr. Weasley reached him, Harry felt himself grinning widely.

Before he could say anything, however, he found himself engulfed in an embrace from his head of house. She seemed to remember herself quickly, and released him, clearing her throat and straightening her robes. "Well done, Mr. Potter," she stated briskly, attempting to cover her emotional outburst.

Mr. Weasley draped his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him further away from the celebrating crowd and into a small room off the hall. Kingsley, McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione followed. Once the door was shut, he turned to look Harry in the eye. "Are you alright, son?" he asked seriously. "We all saw…well, we thought…"

"I know," Harry replied, "I'm sorry, it's kind of a long story, but I'm fine, really."

Mr. Weasley continued looking at him for several seconds, apparently trying to gage how truthful those words were, but he finally let out a breath and nodded quickly, squeezing Harry's shoulder comfortingly before letting him go.

"You said Voldemort is dead?" Kingsley prompted.

"Yes," Harry responded confidently, turning to the other man. "I saw it with my own eyes. We were duelling, and our wands connected. His own killing curse was reflected back at him."

"Can you take us to him?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, about that…there really isn't anything to see. When the curse hit him, he just kind of shattered into tiny pieces."

There was a beat of silence before Arthur responded, "I see…well, could you take us to the pieces then?"

Harry groaned, this was even worse than he had expected. "Well, you see, the pieces basically just floated away. I'm not sure that there is anything left."

The adults exchanged incredulous looks. "Not that we doubt you, Harry, but you wouldn't happen to have any proof, would you?" Kingsley finally asked.

"Proof? Like what?" Harry responded in agitation. "I think a bit of him flew into my eye earlier, but it's gone now."

"Harry doesn't need proof," Ron added, adamantly. "If he says Voldemort is dead, then he's dead. Why would Harry lie about that?" Harry felt a wave of gratitude at Ron's words. At least his friends believed him.

"Of course we believe you, Harry," Mr. Weasley began, "but you have to understand. We all thought Voldemort was dead before and he ended up coming back. We need to know for certain that he is gone for good this time."

"Maybe if you could just walk us through what happened," McGonagall prompted.

Harry sighed, "Ok, so Voldemort and I had this kind of Flying Apparation fight, where we Apparated all over the grounds, kind of tugging at one another and fighting for dominance," he stopped at the strange looks he was getting. "I know it sounds weird…it was weird actually…" Harry trailed off. "But anyway, we landed in the courtyard outside and started to duel. I had all sorts of badass remarks that I wanted to make, but there wasn't really time. Our wands just connected…well, not our wands exactly. See, I was duelling with Draco's wand that I took from him at Malfoy Manor, but Voldemort was using the one he stole from Dumbledore's tomb, which is actually the Elder Wand. And the Elder Wand wouldn't work right for Voldemort since it kind of belongs to me since Draco had disarmed Dumbledore before…" he trailed off again. Judging by the looks he was receiving, no one was following his story.

"Look, I know it's kind of confusing. It's a really long, convoluted story actually. It would probably take like seven books or eight movies to explain everything properly. Let's just say that we duelled. I threw Expelliarmus, he threw Avada Kedavra, I won, the wand flew out of Voldemort's hand, and then he disintegrated into tiny pieces and floated away."

His explanation was met by five incredulous stares.

"So…you disarmed him and he flew away?" McGonagall asked in a confused tone.

"No!" Harry responded, all of the agitation from before rushing back at him. "He was disarmed, yes, but he didn't just fly away. He disintegrated. He's dead, I swear it."

"Maybe if you could just show us where the body is," Mr. Weasley tried.

"I told you! There is no body!"

"Right…he broke into tiny pieces and floated away…" Kingsley responded.

"Exactly," Harry replied, relief evident in his voice. Finally someone gets it.

"But Harry, that's not how Avada Kedavra works."

"I know that, but that's what happened!" He stopped for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers and taking several deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. His voice was more even when he started again. "Seriously? There were over a hundred people in this hall and no one saw anything? Not one of you was out on the grounds or glancing out a window or anything?"

Ron gave him an apologetic shrug, but the others just stared at him blankly.

Hermione finally broke the silence. "It's ok, Harry. It's been a long day. I think maybe you should just get some sleep."

He threw up his hands. "Fine! Believe what you want. I'm out of here."

As he left, he could hear the others still whispering about him. "Well, it is Harry. The Avada Kedavra curse never seems to work quite right around him, so maybe Voldemort did break into tiny pieces?" He slammed the door resolutely behind him.

And found himself faced with the hundred or so people still celebrating in the hall. Luckily, it seemed he hadn't been noticed yet, but it made him realize the seriousness of his predicament. If the people in the room behind him, people who knew and trusted him were hesitant to believe his story, why would anyone else? He could practically see it now, this time tomorrow, the Prophet would be back to calling him a lunatic and a liar. If only there were some way he could prove it. Some way he could show everyone exactly what had happened.

Show them, of course!

Harry pulled back open the door. The five occupants looked over at him in surprise.

"You want proof. Fine, follow me."

Harry was leaning against Dumbledore's desk by the time they had all returned from inside the pensieve.

"Wow," Ron said, crossing the room to join his friend. "He really did break into tiny pieces and float away. Weird."

"I told you." Harry responded. He turned to face the adults in the room. "Satisfied? Voldemort really is dead. It's over."

"I'm sorry we put you through this, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, gently. "We just had to be certain.

Harry nodded curtly in reply.

"Well done, Harry," Kingsley added, grinning broadly. "We should get downstairs and celebrate! We need-"

"Forget it," Harry replied, headed toward the door. "The moment's passed. I'm going to bed."

He stalked out of the room, wondering if he could get Kreacher to bring him a sandwich.

This chapter was based on the movie Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II, which is owned by Warner Brothers.

The reference to Harry wanting Kreacher to make him a sandwich, is, of course, a paraphrase of a line from chapter 36 of the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling.