A/N- So here's the second chapter finally! It's much longer than the last one, so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer- The entire world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The lyrics at the start of each chapter belong to Linkin Park.
Chapter 2: The Best of Friends
...And you were waiting on the edge of the unknown...
With his immediate hunger satisfied, Harry wasn't sure what to do next. As he quietly left the Great Hall and made his out onto the grounds of Hogwarts, he gingerly pressed a hand to his chest in the place where the Killing curse had hit him. It was still really painful but Harry, who was quite used to pain and injury, didn't mind it that much. All that the pain was doing at the moment was reminding him of the walk into the forest, and his last thoughts before he had expected and prepared to die; Ginny. He needed her; this war had proven that to him at least. He decided, as he left the castle and began to walk across the grounds, that he would do anything to get her back. If he was to move on, to live, he needed her by his side, and he needed to be by hers.
Not now though, Harry thought, remembering the duty he still had to do. First he had a promise to fulfil.
He slowly walked across the quiet grounds of Hogwarts, making his way towards the place where he knew his mentor's body lay in rest. Or had least where it had lay in rest until Voldemort had disturbed his peace. Harry wanted to restore it back to how it should be. Dumbledore deserved that much at least; Harry, who perhaps understood Dumbledore better than anyone else except for Aberforth, was certain of that.
Even though he had known what to expect, when he finally reached the grave Harry saw, with anger, that the surface had been badly broken and that Dumbledore's body had been left open to the elements. Harry slowly made his way forward, apprehensive all of a sudden. Hermione's words came back to him suddenly, spoken at a time when he had been thinking about going after the elder wand himself.
"You could never have done that," she had said. "You couldn't have broken into Dumbledore's grave." But even as he remembered this, he thought back to the silent response that he had had at the time; he had been much more scared that he had misinterpreted the living Dumbledore's intentions than he had been about disturbing his grave.
Now the trust he had shown in Dumbledore's plan had been proven right. Even though Dumbledore had made numerous mistakes, and his final plan hadn't gone quite as it had been intended, Harry knew for sure that none of them would have been able to survive this war had it not been for the venerable Headmaster's involvement. He alone had been the one to discover Riddle's secrets, and he alone had been the one to leave Harry with the only way to defeat him. If Harry really thought about it, he doubted that anyone else would have been able to connect handsome orphan Tom Riddle with the most evil Wizard of all time. And how fatal a mistake that would have been; the key to Voldemort's weakness was to be found in his past and in the person he was. As Dumbledore had made clear, Voldemort was Tom Riddle, and Tom Riddle, despite his appearance, was still human. He could be defeated. And with Dumbledore's guidance, even from beyond the grave, Harry had been able to finally finish him for good.
Dumbledore had known him, had cared for him, and now Harry had the chance to repay the Headmaster for all he had done, not just for him but for the entire Wizarding World. Despite what people often thought, Dumbledore was not all knowing, and not all powerful; he was not a God. It was a mistake that people had often made when they looked to the Professor for all the answers to life's problems. Harry, himself, had made that mistake often enough. But no man is perfect, and looking at Dumbledore's still, pale face, Harry thought all the mistakes that the man had made, all the guilt he had felt even to the very end. Yet despite all that, Harry could feel nothing but gratitude for the old man that he come to think of like a Grandfather, because without him, all would have been lost.
"Thank you, Sir," Harry whispered as he placed the Elder wand back in Dumbledore's cold hand. "We couldn't have done it without you. I couldn't have done it without you."
And with that, Harry took his own wand and muttered the spell that would restore the tomb to its proper condition. To Harry, Dumbledore had just looked asleep and now, as the stone knitted together again, he was at peace once again. Slowly Harry began to walk back the way he had come, and for the first time since the end of the battle, a lone tear rolled down his cheek.
After fulfilling his promise at last, and having done it without any witnesses to guess the significance of the action, Harry felt lighter and yet also a little empty. The hardest thing for him now was actually to try and decide what to do next. He had his whole life ahead of him, and for the first time in his memory, Harry had an unencumbered future. He had no duty, no destiny to contend with, and yet now he felt lost rather than free. Having been dealt a bad hand for so much of his life, now that he had the opportunity to do whatever he wanted he found instead that he didn't know what he wanted at all.
When he had ever thought about his future it had always involved, in one way or another, his best friends, Ron and Hermione. They had been with him through everything, both the good and the bad times, and somehow they made everything worth it for him.
I need them, Harry decided. No matter how much things change from now on, no matter what I do, I need them.
Harry was suddenly filled with an intense longing to see their faces. He needed to know that they were okay. In the last year, he had seen little of anyone else apart from those two, and it was the close quarters that they had shared recently that made him long for them now. He was quite sure that no one else would understand how he felt at present apart from them. In reality, his destiny had always been theirs as well.
Harry continued across the grounds of Hogwarts, the cool morning air dissipating slightly as the sun began to rise. He looked up at the castle that had become his home and he marvelled at the way in which, despite the damage it had sustained, Hogwarts still managed to fill him with a sense of awe and wonder. As his gaze moved to the castle entrance, Harry noticed two figures coming out of the giant doors. It was Neville and Luna. They weren't same as Ron and Hermione to him, but if anyone came close to them it was these two. Ginny was different than all of them, of course, for reasons Harry wasn't quite ready to acknowledge yet. All his friends meant a great deal to Harry, and after all his recent experiences, he intended to tell them just how much.
Harry made his way over to them, and he knew that they had spotted him because he saw Luna wave at him and Neville quicken his pace.
"Harry!" Neville exclaimed as they finally reached each other. Luna immediately pulled Harry into a hug and Neville patted him on the shoulder. After a prolonged moment, Luna finally released him and Harry was able to get his first real look at them since the end of the battle. Luna looked like her old self again, if a little bit tired. Neville, on the other hand, still carried the bruises and cuts that he had worn proudly even before the battle of Hogwarts, but most of them seemed to have undergone a great deal of healing in a short space of time. On the whole he looked a lot healthier than Harry had perhaps ever seen him; Neville's self confidence seemed to have sky-rocketed in Harry's absence. When Neville caught Harry staring at his healing injuries, he moved to explain.
"Madame Pomfrey works wonders doesn't she?" he said, gesturing towards his face. "She says that I'm going to be completely healed within a week." As Neville spoke his voice seemed harder than Harry had ever heard it, reminding him further of the intense changes that had occurred in the year that he, Ron and Hermione had been on the run. For some reason, Harry felt extremely saddened by that.
"That's great, Neville," Harry said, forcing a smile onto his face.
"You don't look very good though, Harry," Luna told him, speaking for the first time. "Have you seen Madame Pomfrey yet?" Harry was suddenly conscious of the fact that not only had he not seen Madame Pomfrey, but he had also neglected to have a shower when he had first woken up this morning. His hunger had been so great that he had not even bothered with a change of clothes. Luna just stared at Harry intently when he didn't answer immediately, and Harry once again got the feeling that his strange friend knew a lot more than people gave her credit for.
"I haven't had time yet," Harry replied, shrugging. "I feel fine though. I'll see her later." He felt bad lying to his friends but he really wasn't ready for anyone to see his chest. Harry knew, without looking, that there would definitely be a mark there and as soon as someone noticed it, it would create questions that Harry just wasn't ready to answer yet. The affected area on his chest was still extremely painful, but Harry didn't think that it was that much of a problem. He'd been in pain before; he could handle it.
"Why are you out here alone, Harry? It's very early, you know," Luna asked, changing the subject even though it seemed to Harry that she hadn't bought his excuse. Harry just shrugged.
"I woke up early but no one else was around, so I thought I'd go outside to clear my head a bit," he answered. It was another lie, but Harry knew that he couldn't risk anyone finding out about the Elder wand. He trusted Neville and Luna beyond any doubt, but his experiences with Rita Skeeter had taught him that you could never be too careful.
"I was looking for Ron and Hermione though," Harry continued, hoping to stall any further questions, especially from the extremely curious Ravenclaw. "You wouldn't happen to know where they were, would you?"
Luna looked at him intensely once again, but this time it was Neville who answered.
"Last time I heard, they were with the rest of the Weasleys, camping out in Professor Trelawney's classroom." At Harry's disbelieving look, Neville moved to explain.
"It was one of the only undamaged places in the school that was big enough for all of them to camp out. They could have gone to the Gryffindor common room, but they asked for some privacy and McGonagall didn't think that they would get any there. A few families are holed up in the other dormitories but we left our old dormitory free; we figured that you could do with some privacy yourself. It was the least we could do."
"You didn't have to do that," Harry said, already feeling guilty about wanting some space when there were so many families grieving who could have done with a nice place to sleep.
"Harry, you killed Voldemort," Neville replied disbelievingly. "I reckon we'd do anything for you at the moment."
"I couldn't have done it by myself," Harry said uncomfortably, shrugging off the compliment. When he saw that Neville was about to protest, Harry interrupted him.
"No, I mean it," Harry said emphatically. "If it hadn't been for the D.A. and the Order, I wouldn't have even got close to Voldemort. I'm so proud of the D.A. and Neville, I know that your parents would be proud too, if they knew. You told me once that you didn't know why you were picked for Gryffindor. Well, I reckon now everyone knows."
"You've become very wise, Harry," Luna said, when it became clear that Neville couldn't speak in reply.
"I don't think so," Harry replied quietly. "I just think I've seen a bit too much of life. I guess I've had to learn the hard way what's important and what isn't."
Luna, yet again, looked as though she didn't quite believe him, but she seemed to let it go for now.
"Come on, Neville," she said, "let's take a walk. I think Harry wants to go and find Ron and Hermione now, but he's just too polite to say so." She took Neville by the arm and began to pull him away.
Harry stayed where he was, however, and watched them as they walked away, arm in arm. Things were changing, Harry knew, but he could only hope that they would change for the better.
"Thank you!" Harry called as he watched them make their way across the grounds. They seemed to hear him because they both turned around and nodded at him. He nodded back and started walking along the path that would take his to the castle entrance. Luna was right, he still really wanted to see his best friends, but he found, as he walked though the giant doors and into the entrance hall, that he already felt a little bit less lonely.
As he made his way through the damaged castle corridors, he noticed that people were starting to stir. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never before wished more intensely that he had his invisibility cloak on him. As he continued his trek people would point and stare. Every time someone noticed him, they would grasp his hand and thank him profusely over and over again; he would see mothers and fathers who had lost their children, and yet they smiled at him and thanked him for everything. They had lost everything because he could not defeat Voldemort sooner, and yet they still had nothing but gratitude for him. Didn't they know that he couldn't have done it alone? That they owed their lives to so many people, not just him?
With great difficulty, he pushed these thoughts away, and allowed them to thank him, to hug him and to shake his hand. He had told himself that this would be a new beginning, whatever that meant, but as he became more and more aware of the devastation left behind after Voldemort, it was becoming harder and harder to believe that they could have a better life. So much had changed. He had changed. He knew that he wasn't even close to being alright, but as the people saw him, he knew that they would have to believe he was. They needed to see that it was over. If he, The Man Who Defeated Voldemort, was doing well and had seemingly moved on, then they would undoubtedly follow his lead. For the first time since the beginning of this war, he realised just how much he meant to people, and how much the image of The Boy Who Lived inspired people to carry on.
Now I know how Dumbledore felt, he thought wryly as he made his way up the long staircase that led to the Astronomy tower. His duty had not ended with the defeat of Voldemort; he knew that now. He now had a responsibility to ensure that the world that meant so much to him recovered from Voldemort's damage. As long as he could project a positive image, he knew that people would take comfort from him; that they would see hope for a better future. He would do it, because felt he owed each and every one of them as much as they believed they owed him.
As he made his way up the ladder that would take him to the Divination classroom, Harry apprehension grew and he couldn't seem to prevent his beating heart from thudding loudly in his already painful chest. What if they hated him? Harry, despite his stern words to Percy earlier, couldn't help the guilt that crawled uninvitingly up into his mind. It was his fault that Fred had been killed. Of course, he knew that it was largely down to Voldemort, but he couldn't escape the feeling that there was something he could have done earlier to prevent all this.
I should have been stronger!
Taking a deep breath, he opened the trap door and forced himself to enter the stifling classroom where the Weasley's had taken up residence. Pushing his guilt aside, quite apart from wanting to find Ron and Hermione, Harry found that he needed to see that the Weasley's were together and that they were coping. If they could find a way to move on, even after what they had lost, then he would find a way too, no matter how difficult it was.
"Harry!"
Before Harry could even move, Mrs Weasley jumped off the chair she had been sat in and immediately engulfed Harry in a heart-warming hug that threatened to break his ribs. The pain in his chest intensified as she held him close, and he found that he couldn't prevent the gasp of pain that left his lips.
"Harry?" asked Mrs Weasley concerned, her eyes wide as she immediately pulled away.
"M'fine." Harry gasped as the pain flared once again. "Just a bit sore after yesterday."
Harry took a deep breath, and upon finding that the pain was lessening now, he took a moment to take a closer look at the Weasleys. Both Mr and Mrs Weasley stood close together, in constant contact as if they each believed that they would lose the other if either of them let go. After releasing Harry, Mrs Weasley sat down once again, and Mr Weasley joined her on the sofa, his hand encased tightly around hers. They were tired, Harry noticed, and both held the unmistakable signs of grief. It seemed to go much deeper than any physical pain; it was as if their very souls were crying out in anguish.
Around the classroom, which did appear to be in a relatively good state compared to the rest of the castle, Harry could see signs that reflected its current use. There were a number of sleeping bags scattered across the floor, and the usual signs of the classroom's intended use, such as the remainder of the ridiculous glass orbs, had been pushed into one corner, forgotten.
Harry's eyes searched the classroom, hoping to see Ron and Hermione, safe and together as they should be. They were not there though, and he reluctantly brought his attention back to Mr and Mrs Weasley who had identical expressions of worry on their faces.
"Are you alright there, Harry?" asked Mr Weasley, his voice betraying how tired he was.
"Yeah," Harry replied quietly, "I was just looking for Ron and Hermione."
"Oh, sorry dear," said Mrs Weasley. "You just missed them, I'm afraid. I think they were going to go down to the Great Hall to help with the rebuilding. That's where Bill, Fleur and George were heading."
"Oh," said Harry, unsure of how else to reply. He wanted to leave now, to find his best friends, but he was unsure whether Mrs Weasley would be as keen to let him go. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a rattling of crockery coming from the corner of the room.
Harry spun around; his hand already on his wand as he turned to face whatever had caused the sound. It seemed that, although the danger had largely passed, it would take a while for Harry to be able to relax completely. Surprised by what he saw, he lowered his wand immediately.
It was Percy; he had come back.
"Hi Harry," Percy said quietly, his voice still hoarse from their encounter earlier this morning. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
It was then that Harry realised that the sound he had heard had in fact Percy, using the mugs that had been so customary during any Divination lessons that focused on the art of reading tea leaves. Harry couldn't help but think that their current use was a lot better than the purpose they had served in the past.
"No thanks," replied Harry, trying to keep the surprise from his voice.
"Harry was just looking for Ron and Hermione," said Mr Weasley, looking confused for a moment by Harry's reaction to seeing Percy.
"I think they've gone down to the kitchens," replied Percy absently, as he carried two steaming mugs of tea to each of his parents.
"I should probably head down there then," said Harry. "Before I miss them again."
"Alright dear," said Mrs Weasley, fondly, but with a trace of sadness in her voice. "Oh, and we'll let you know when we're going to leave for the Burrow, so that you have time to pack." At Harry's confused face, Mrs Weasley continued.
"You're coming home with us, Harry," she said, somewhat sternly. "Now is a time for family."
Harry felt affection surge through him as he looked into the faces of his surrogate parents, who had always been there for him, when his own had been unable to. Harry simply nodded in reply, unable to put his affection into words, and made his way to the ladder that would take him back to the corridor. Before he left, he turned to look back and saw Percy with his arms around his mother, comforting her as grief seemed to overcome her once again. Percy caught his eye, and to Harry's surprise nodded to him, as if acknowledging that Harry had been right in what he had said in the Great Hall. Harry just nodded back, a small smile finding its way onto his face, despite the grief that still enveloped him.
Yes, it would be hard to recover, thought Harry as he made his way back down the ladder, but together, as a family, he knew they would be alright.
On his walk to the kitchens, Harry thought about the rebuilding that they would have to go through, before the world was as it should be again. It was not just Hogwarts that would need attention and hard work, but the Wizarding world itself. The damage that Voldemort had done was not just on the surface, but was engrained in every aspect of their lives.
Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised to find that he had already made it to the entrance to the kitchens, and he quickly tickled the pear and made his way inside. Even if he didn't find Ron and Hermione here, he could at least find some more food. The stale sandwiches from before had done little to satisfy his appetite.
He needn't have worried though, because sitting there, right in front of him, were his best friends. Ron, unsurprising, was stuffing his face with every food that he could get a hand on. Hermione simply looked on fondly, content to take a bite on a sandwich every now and then. Harry noticed that, despite their efforts at eating, both were tightly holding hands, clearly reluctant to let go, even for a second. Harry smiled, and walked further in, clearing his throat to make his presence known.
"Hi," he said, but didn't get much further before he was tackled rather forcibly by Hermione, as she jumped up off the bench and practically ran towards him.
"You're awake then," said Ron bluntly, although it was clear that if it had not been for his male bravado, he would be clinging to his best friend as well. "Didn't bother with a shower though. You stink." The chastisement was somewhat ruined when a grin started to spread across the red head's face, replacing the obvious signs of grief that had been there before.
"Git," Harry replied fondly, although this was muffled slightly by Hermione's hug.
"Are you ok?" asked Hermione, pulling away from Harry so that she could inspect him properly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Hungry, though."
They sat down at the table then, Ron and Hermione immediately taking seats next to each other, with Harry sitting opposite them.
"The house elves really outdid themselves this time!" said Ron cheerfully, food spraying out of his mouth as he tried to eat and speak at the same time.
"Ronald Weasley!" exclaimed Hermione. "Did your mother never teach you manners, or did you just completely ignore her?"
Ron evidently tried to reply at this point, but instead starting choking on the food he had been trying to eat. This only served to add to Hermione's anger at the red head's lack of manners.
A smile made its way onto Harry's face as he listened to the argument continue to develop between his two best friends. He had come here with thoughts of the future; hoping to find out what to do next in his life. Really, he had come for reassurance, and though not in the way he had expected it, his best friends had provided him with exactly what he needed.
Yes, the future was uncertain, and yes, their lives would not be easy for a long time yet, but at the moment, Harry was just content to sit here with his friends, his family really, and just be himself. Not a hero and not a victim. Just Harry.
For Harry, that was more than enough.
A/N- So was it worth the wait? If you've got time, leave me a review and let me know what you thought!
