A/N: This is set post-DH with some AU-ness. Basically, I don't believe in JK Rowling indiscriminately killing off people (seriously, what did Hedwig ever do to her?), or in Remus/Tonks. With the exception of Sirius Black, anyone killed prior to DH is still dead. Saying that sounds weird, doesn't it?
Anyways, I'm looking for this to be a good, fun frolic, and I hope to be just as surprised by what turns out as you all are.
Disclaimer: I have no claim to any of J.K. Rowling's characters or work and make no money off of this work (though I wish I did). She owns everything, except for obvious exceptions like Greece, which owns itself.
It had been a full year after the fall of Voldemort. Hogwarts had been repaired in record time over the following summer- though, as the students agreed, magic certainly made things faster- houses had been rebuilt, and families had done their mourning. Although the scars on the magical community as a whole hadn't fully healed over things seemed well on their way to recovery.
However, these high and worldly thoughts were not the ones on Harry Potter's mind as he sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall with his best friends Ron and Hermione.
Like most other students of Hogwarts, the three had chosen to repeat their last year of magical schooling. After the chaos of the previous year, many parents had felt their children had been improperly educated, or had been more focused on undermining Voldemort's regime than their studies, and had demanded a second try. Thus, for the first time in history, Hogwarts, under the new rule of Minerva McGonagall, had offered all students a chance to repeat their last year of schooling. Any student wishing to either continue or graduate was given a competency examination to determine whether or not they were up to the standards prescribed for their level. Most of the few examinations given were taken by Ravenclaws confident in their abilities and Slytherins hoping to escape the stigma they felt associated with their house.
And so a seventh (or eighth) year had passed for Harry's graduating class. In fact, they would soon be known as the newly graduated class: formal graduation and commencement ceremonies would be held the following afternoon. For now the seventh-and-a-half years (as they were called for the sake of those who had now spent eight years in school) were reveling in the glorious, sunny two days of freedom that lay between them and the scramble to find a job.
"Ah, the bliss of life after exams," sighed Ron, piling his plate with everything he could reach.
"You do realize you have a mother who cooks quite well, don't you?" asked Hermione, who was looking slightly scandalized at the amount of food Ron was attempting to ingest in one sitting. Unlike the other two, she hadn't quite lost the manic look of exams from her appearance and still had the temporary habit of shushing people who spoke over a whisper in the common room.
"Yuuh, buff thiff iff really good shtuff!" Ron exclaimed around a mouthful of combined egg and toast. Hermione rolled her eyes and pointedly turned towards Harry.
"You're still visiting your aunt and uncle after school lets out, right?" she asked, trying her best to shield herself from Ron, who was attacking his breakfast like a starving wolf.
"Yeah, I think so. I think I ought to, after all this," Harry replied. "Despite our problems, I did put them in mortal danger for awhile. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "I've still got a few things knocking around my room there that I'd like to rescue before they bury them or something."
Ron swallowed with tremendous effort, "And you're still moving into Grimmauld Place with Sirius after? Mum was serious about the offer to come stay at our place, y'know."
"I know… but I promised Sirius this awhile ago. Besides, you all have done way too much for me as it is. And you know I'll be over for dinner so much it'll be like I'm living there anyway," Harry said, clapping Ron on the back and giving him a reassuring smile.
Any further conversation was forestalled by the multitudes of owls swooping in to deliver the morning mail. Hermione tossed a Knut at the owl holding out a copy of the newest Prophet and disappeared behind it.
"Hah- Oh, my…" she exclaimed, resurfacing much to quickly for Harry's satisfaction. Hermione coming up for air this quickly could only mean something bad.
"Listen to this," she giggled, reading a section from what was apparently the headline article, "'In a press release early this morning, the Ministry of Magic revealed that a statue dedicated to Harry Potter, most famously known as the vanquisher of You Know Who, will be erected in the Ministry Atrium. The statue will replace the two thrones now over the fountain, and will be unveiled by Harry himself in one week's time. A brief speech by the Chosen One will follow'".
Hermione folded down her newspaper and smiled at Harry teasingly, "Why Harry, why didn't you tell us about this honor?"
"I didn't bloody know!" Harry nearly shouted, looking aghast at the idea, "They never told me anything about a statue or a ceremony or- or a speech, for heaven's sake! Shouldn't I be the first one they tell instead of the Prophet?!"
Just then, as if cued to Harry's reaction, a large tawny owl landed precisely on top of Ron's pancakes, ruffled it's feathers importantly, and held its leg out to Harry. The envelope looked forebodingly official, rather like the ones he had received after performing under-age magic. For a brief moment he wondered if that's what the letter was for before remembering he was almost a year over-age.
Dear Mr. Potter,
The Ministry of Magic would like to cordially invite you to make a speech concerning the new statue to be built in your honor in the Ministry Atrium. Please owl your response back as soon as possible, so all necessary arrangements and announcements can be made.
Sincerely,
Rothilda Trimbout
Undersecretary to the Minister
Half disbelieving the letter in front of him, Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron.
"They have got to be bloody kidding," he deadpanned, tossing the letter aside. The owl, apparently trained to not accept this response, hooted reproachfully and gave his hand a sharp peck.
"Hey, it's like the time you told Hedwig to peck us until we wrote back!" Ron said cheerfully, obviously uninterested in helping Harry dodge the owl's increasingly vicious pecks. "Ooh, that one looked it stung."
"Here, you might as well write back," Hermione said, offering him a quill and a scrap of parchment. "Though it does seem like they've made the decision for you…"
"I'll say- gerroff, you feathered git! - Though I don't know why Kingsley of all people would expect me to take a shine to this. I'm writing, I'm writing!" Harry grumbled. He wished he could write a note as waspish as his feelings, but felt it might be inappropriate given the audience. Maybe a hint of sarcasm? No, he didn't feel quite confident enough in his abilities, especially when said audience was perfectly capable of sending a team of Aurors to watch his every move in return.
"Alright, let's see… 'Dear Mrs. Trimbout, While I appreciate the… ah, token, I will be quite unable to accept it. You see, I will be busy…' hmm," he paused, looking to the other two for help, "What will I be busy doing that I can't be at the Ministry to dedicate a statue?"
"Regrowing bones?" Ron asked with a smirk, raising his wand threateningly.
"Oh, how about writing lines for Umbridge?" Hermione offered.
"Ha, they'd both be about as enjoyable. No, I need something good -preferably not painful, Ron- that'll get me away from them for a bit."
"Go abroad for a bit," Hermione suggested, absent-mindedly flipping through the rest of the Prophet.
"What, just pop off to Norway?"
"Norway?" came the voice of Dean Thomas, who had been leaving the Great Hall. "Is that where you're starting out? I was thinking maybe doing a bit of Ireland first, just to get my feet wet before really heading off."
"What?" asked Harry, thrown completely off topic.
"For your Grand Tour. That's what you were talking about, right? Beginning your Grand Tour with Norway?" Dean questioned, looking confused at Harry's confusion.
"My what?"
"Grand Tour, Harry!" Ron said, sounding almost as exasperated as Hermione did when she explained Hogwarts, A History to them. "You know, the tour a wizard takes of the world after finishing school? Well, some wizards, at any rate. Others have obligations or don't… don't have the money," he finished embarrassedly.
"It's supposed to be quite informational," Hermione interjected, falling easily back into her bookworm role. "Some say you learn just as much on your Grand Tour as you do in your formal schooling years. I don't know if that's true, but I think you probably learn quite a bit, especially with all the foreign spells you'd see."
"My granddad still uses one of the Persian spells he learned to make tents," Dean interjected helpfully, "Makes the best camping partner when he isn't falling asleep. Anyway, I've got to go pack. I'll see you all later," he said, resuming his exit of the Hall.
"It would be great to go on a Grand Tour," sighed Hermione wistfully.
"Yeah, but they're expensive as hell," Ron pointed out, "'Sides, a girl like you wouldn't be safe out there all alone."
"A girl like me? What's that supposed to mean?" shrieked Hermione, clearly taking offense to Ron's offhanded comment.
"I- no, not like that, you know what I mean-"
"I most certainly do not know what you mean."
"I mean, you're pretty, and pretty girls attract attention, and- Harry, back me up here-"
But Harry didn't respond. Instead of the steadily escalating argument that was beginning to elicit covert looks from surrounding classmates, Harry was focused on something entirely different. A year abroad? A year of traveling the world with friends, meeting new wizards, and seeing something of life outside Hogwarts? A week in Paris, a side trip to India, some time in Australia… A Grand Tour didn't sound half bad at all.
He paused in his thoughts, grinning to himself.
Norway, however, was definitely out.
A/N: Well, there's the first chapter up! I hope you liked it! I'm sure you can all see where this is headed, at least in a general way. I must confess, however, that I'm absolutely awful when it comes to planning out a plot, so even I don't know what's going to happen! I'm also ridiculous with commas. If you catch me going off on a comma-spree just beat me back into line, okay?
Let me know what you think about it, whether you think I've got something going or not, and all that good stuff!
Hugs & Love!