Late in the afternoon, when he thought that he could not endure another handshake, Harry Potter slipped away from the lingering crowd of people and found himself standing in front of Dumbledore's marble tomb. He felt exhausted, but happy. Perhaps he had let himself get carried away, and perhaps he would have been better off with Hermione's speech, nevertheless he felt satisfied with the choice of his own words. And he could not help but be proud of how all the audience had risen at the end of his speech. Alone, at last, he allowed a few tears to fall on his cheeks, unconcealed and unchecked.
"People will be talking about that speech for years," a familiar voice said unexpectedly.
He turned around and there was Ginny, standing a few paces away from him with the wind blowing in her hair. Harry didn't even take the time to wipe down his face. He crossed the remaining distance between them in hurried strides and kissed her with the same passion he had given away on his birthday at The Burrow.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to her ear as he pulled her in a tight embrace. "I should have done that sooner."
"Don't ever avoid me again," she replied shrewdly.
At that moment, a Thestral landed gracefully besides them with its wide spread-out wings and ethereal appearance. It seemed to sniff the air for something that Harry could not identify.
"It's a bit strange, seeing them."
Harry looked at Ginny compassionately. He didn't dare to ask whose death she had seen. It couldn't have been Fred's…
"I saw Tonks die," she said as if she had read his thoughts. "She was right by my side. It could have been me. But that's how she wanted to die, I think."
Harry could not reply anything. He seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment. He had not yet stopped to think about how he would miss them all: Lupin, Tonks, Fred. The only reply that he could gather together was a weak smile. He was so tired now.
"Let's not stand," Ginny offered, pulling his hand and leading him to sit down on the grass in front of Dumbledore's tomb.
She leaned her back against the white marble and Harry did the same. All the while, he did not let go of her hand.
"You don't think he will mind, do you?" Harry said thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder.
"No, I think he likes you."
Harry was staring in the distance.
"Yeah," he said pensively, "I think he did."
There was a moment of quietness when they just sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined, their shoulders as if glued together. It was one of the blissful wonders about Ginny. There could be silences, and they were never awkward. Harry had not yet been able to find the words to tell her how much she had met to him during the last year. She had been like his anchor.
Harry was still pondering whether or not 'you've been like an anchor to me' was the proper thing to say to Ginny when her voice broke the stillness, pensive and dreamy.
"I feel sorry for little Teddy. But at least he's got you, and us. Have you met him yet?"
Harry straightened his back. He had been in such a peaceful place the second before that it took him a moment to recover his bearings. She was talking about Teddy Lupin, of course, his godson. I'm a godfather, he thought.
"No, I haven't," he said a little hastily. "I only saw a picture. Is he here? Have you…?"
But Ginny had sealed his lips with a kiss and the force of it was pushing him back against the white marble tomb. At that moment, he felt that he could have sunk unto the grass with her, and her flowery smell, and her soft hair blowing about her bright face.
"Relax. He's not going to disappear. I was only asking. You don't have to rush into anything right now."
"There are things that I have to do, though," he said tentatively. "Seeing Teddy is merely one of them. The Dursleys, I'd like to be the one to bring them home. Then I have to go back to Godric's Hollow, and Grimmauld Place, and Gringotts."
"Are you coming home with us first?"
There was a tone of apprehension in her voice.
"Yeah, sure," he said half-heartedly.
He didn't want to tell her that he could linger at The Burrow for too long. The Elder Wand needed to be put in a safe place as swiftly as possible. The goblins had also made it clear that they had not had their final word with him. After the speech, it had become obvious that the whole Wizarding community would not be satisfied until he had visited every household and every department of the Ministry of Magic. There was so much explaining to do, so much talking and tidying of loose ends. He was not sure yet how much of the story he was willing to share. He would have to consult with Ron and Hermione about that. Later, he thought, not today.
There was a cool breeze now blowing around them now. The sun was getting low beyond the mountains. Harry and Ginny were sitting close to each other, hidden in the shadow of Dumbledore's tomb. The Thestral had taken off and was now flying low over the Dark Forest. Harry could see its outline in the pale light of the fading day. He was slipping into a peaceful sleep, and he felt no need or desire to shake it off.
When Harry awoke from his slumber, he was lying on the grass with his head resting on Ginny's lap. She was loosely stroking his hair. He did not open his eyes straight away. He was just thankful that their moment alone together had lasted longer than a few minutes. I wonder what time it is now, he thought vaguely. They would probably be leaving for The Burrow soon.
"Oi, you two!" shouted a familiar voice all of a sudden.
Harry's eyes snapped opened and he saw Ron walking fast up to him, looking rather dismal. Ginny was already on her feet, brushing grass off her black skirt. Harry saw her press a loving hand on her Weasley brooch as though she was making sure that it was still there.
"How's George?" she asked before Ron could say anything.
Harry's heart sank as he saw the look on Ron's face grow, if possible, even grimmer.
"Mum wants you," he said plainly to Ginny.
She glanced back at Harry and waited for him to nod, a worried expression suddenly visible on her face, and then she was off at a run. Harry saw her exchange a swift brush of hands with Hermione as she ran pass her. Hermione was slowly walking up to them with some difficulty because of her long dress.
Harry had expected Ron to make a comment about him and Ginny's being together, but clearly Ron had a lot more on his mind. Harry could not recall seeing him with such a heartbreaking look on his face.
"How is he?" Harry asked with concern.
Ron merely shrugged and stared at his shoes.
"He walked up to Fred's coffin after your speech and he's refusing to leave it. It's awful seeing him like that. My parents want him to come home with us, but he just won't budge, and no one wants to force him, you know."
"Is there anything I can do?" offered Harry.
"Mum reckons Ginny will get through to him. She was always Fred and George's favourite."
Harry remained silent. He still could not get over the fact that Fred and George would never be seen as a pair again.
"Harry! You really shouldn't run off like that," Hermione breathed out as she caught up with them. She took Ron's left hand in hers as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Her eyes were bloodshot and dried, her face was pale, but she was smiling warmly and Ron's expression seemed to soften.
"I should have known that you would be here," said Hermione to Harry, glancing at the white marble, and then straight into his eyes. "Are you okay? You look worn out. I thought you were going to faint up on that stage. Your speech was very good, by the way, better than mine. You really put yourself into it."
"Yours was awesome, too," Ron offered kindly, giving Hermione a squeeze of the shoulders.
As Ron pulled her closer to him, Harry saw that she was still carrying the beaded bag under her arm and immediately he thought about his Invisibility Cloak which he had completely forgotten to recover after the speech.
Thankfully, Hermione seemed to pick up on the look of sudden realisation on his face. A second later, she was pulling the Cloak out of her bag and thrusting it in Harry's arms with a stern air.
"Thanks, Hermione. I'm going to hang on to it, but I don't think I'll need it from now on. I can't say I'll miss hiding under it all the time, to be honest… what?"
Hermione and Ron were both staring at him with anxious expressions.
"What? What's wrong now?"
"I told you," said Hermione pointedly. "There are rumours."
"What kind of rumours?"
"You were fighting Voldemort one on one," she answered, "and you and he said things. I don't think you realised how many people were actually listening, and a lot of them have come up with their own conclusions."
"You mean people like Rita Skeeter?"
Harry recalled that he had seen the Daily Prophet reporter at the funeral, talking in hushed voices to Professor Trelawney, her Quick-Notes Quill zooming at her side.
"It's not just harmless Rita Skeeter nosing around, Harry," said Hermione gravely. "Voldemort mentioned the Elder Wand. Some people picked up on that. And you weren't exactly careful about hiding your Invisibility Cloak."
"What are you saying?"
"The Tale of the Three Brothers, mate," said Ron as Hermione looked at him for support. "It's been going around that you might have the three objects like in the story. It turns out that a lot of people believe in that stuff. Xeno Lovegood is just one of them. Some people reckon that's how you survived. 'Master of Death' and all that."
Harry was taken aback. Of course, he had expected to hear all kinds of theories that might explain how and why Voldemort had been destroyed. No one but Ron and Hermione knew about the Horcruxes, except perhaps Professor Slughorn. Harry had not yet given thought to the official version that he wanted to give. It was a little disquieting to think that Voldemort's downfall had already been linked to the Deathly Hallows.
"There's no 'Master of Death'. It's just symbolic. It's a way of saying that you have to accept death, not try to defeat it," said Harry a little more vociferously than he had intended. The knot on his chest where he had received the Killing Curse seemed to throb for a fleeting moment, but he covered it up with a brief cough.
"We know that, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically, "but everyone is trying to piece together what happened. The Death Eaters' account is that you died. You got hit by the Killing Curse straight to the chest. They all saw it."
Harry could not reply. He had no clear explanation as to what had happened, at least none that he could give to the Wizarding community without revealing some important information.
"You're thinking that I'm going to have to make some kind of public statement, aren't you?" he said to Hermione.
She glanced back at Ron and Harry immediately saw that there was something else that they were not telling him.
"What?" He asked loudly, staring from one to the other.
"Some people reckon you could be immortal," said Ron nervously. "If you indeed have the three objects, then you could be, according to the story."
"According to some people's interpretation of the story," added Hermione straight away. "It's ludicrous, of course, but people will believe anything, especially when they've lost so much."
"Who are we talking about, exactly?"
"Xeno Lovegood," answered Hermione hastily. "Don't roll your eyes up like that, Harry! This is serious. He's not the only believer, you know."
"I'm not going to worry about rumours that Xeno Lovegood started," Harry replied dismissively.
He rolled up the Invisibility Cloak under his arm as though putting it away would close the subject. I'm done hiding, he thought stubbornly. I won't hide anymore. I don't care what people think or believe. I'm just done hiding.
"I agree with Harry. Xeno Lovegood is mental," said Ron out of the blue.
Apparently, Hermione was as much surprised by Ron's position on the matter as Harry was. She nudged Ron hard on the shoulder and threw him a very accusing look that was reminiscent of Mrs Weasley.
"I'm just saying that he's cracked, but he's not, you know, evil," said Ron. "He wouldn't try to do Harry in just to prove he's right."
Hermione's face had gone rather pink. "But, Ronald, we agreed that it was important that Harry took this seriously. Remember?"
Harry thought that she was making a real effort not to sound like a Howler.
"I heard something else," Ron cut in.
Hermione fell silent.
"Bill was there when they took Alecto Carrow. She was raving. She kept saying that she was going to kill Harry Potter in the name of the Dark Lord, or something like that. She's not the only one. The Death Eaters that have been brought to Azkaban are out of control, and they have only one thing on their mind."
Hermione was speechless, but Harry was not as shocked as she was. He was used to death threats. He had once thought that Sirius Black was going to kill him. For years, he had lived with Voldemort's constant attempts to finish him off. Those who had supported the Dark Lord new order were on the run now, their dreams shattered, their lives dramatically changed. It wasn't surprising that many of them wanted him dead. Revenge was probably an act that Voldemort used to reward greatly.
Hermione, however, looked quite appalled at the idea of death threats.
"When did you find that out?" she asked to Ron.
"Just now. Bill told me in private right before he sent me to get Ginny. He didn't tell mum and dad because he doesn't want to worry them anymore, and I sort of agree with him. We can handle this, but we'll have to make sure Harry is well protected at all times."
"But you just said that the Death Eaters have been brought to Azkaban," Harry began to argue. He was feeling rather crestfallen. "The Dementors will look after them. And the Aurors are going to watch closely anyone who's potentially dangerous. I don't really need all that protection, do I?"
Harry looked over at Hermione for support, but her face was stone white.
"But the Dementors aren't going back to Azkaban, are they?" she whispered with sudden realisation.
"No," said Ron, confirming Hermione's insight. "Kingsley reckons it was Dumbledore's wish that the Dementors be sent to a place where they can't harm anyone. Probably some place far up north."
"Which means that the security in Azkaban…"
"… Won't be what it used to be," concluded Harry, finishing Hermione's sentence.
There's no escaping it, then, he thought, staring into the distance. The Cloak suddenly felt very heavy, like a burden. Was he to be put out of sight under it for the rest of his days? What kind of life was that for his friends, for Ginny? The worrying and the hiding were never going to end, not as long as there were Death Eaters in Azkaban.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione let out. "Please don't look so put out. I'm sure the Ministry will figure out a way to keep the Death Eaters in Azkaban without the Dementors."
"Yeah," he replied half-heartedly.
All of his thoughts were on Ginny now. Was he going to put her in danger just by being with her? Would the Death Eaters get to her first, just to draw him in?
Harry was suddenly brought out of his questionings by the appearance of a silver light that was gliding towards where he, Ron and Hermione were standing. The beam stopped swiftly at their feet and the three of them saw quite distinctively in the semi-darkness the shape of a shining bespectacled cat.
"A message from McGonagall," said Hermione.
"Harry, if you could spare a moment, Firenze would like a private word with you. He is waiting for you near Hagrid's hut, on the edge of the Dark Forest. Your speech was wonderful. Dumbledore would have enjoyed it. Best regards."
And with a faint pop, the silver cat vanished into a wisp of white smoke.
"What could Firenze want with you?"
"The Dark Forest, Harry, it's not safe. We should go with you," Hermione offered sheepishly.
"Never mind. I'll just use the Cloak. I'm used to it, remember?"
Without further ado, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head and started towards the edge of the Dark Forest, leaving Ron and Hermione behind, both wearing a deflated expression that he only knew too well.