"Welcome to Hogwarts Centre for Magical Education of Wizards and Witches. How can I help you this morning sir?"

Harry looked over the line in front of him, the nauseatingly simper of the blonde witch handling the reception line grinding on his patience, as it had for the last two hours. The school had obviously been extended dramatically since the war, probably as part of the renovations. He had recognised the main core of the castle as he approached, the grey stone walls rising imposingly above the lake – which was as cold and dark as he had always remembered it – but there had been entire sections of the castle that he hadn't recognised, glass and metal.

He twitched. It resembled the architecture that had grown to dominate muggle culture in the Greater British Territories over the last few years. There were always links, but still, one had to wonder: did they have to build things quite so ugly?

"I'm sorry sir, but we aren't allowed to give out details of our students to anyone but their guardia- oh I see sir. Do you have any identi- no sir, red hair doesn't quail- I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you continue shouting like that, please stay calm sir."

Harry rolled his eyes at the conversation and tapped his pocket idly, checking that the letter from Hogwarts was still there, feeling his wand in it's wrist holster, his second wand by his leg, the dagger on his waist. Old habits died hard, just like dark wizards. Second wands had become common, especially after Ginny had been tak-

"Sir, hello sir? Can I help you sir?"

He dragged his mind back to the present and stepped up to the desk.

"Hello sir and welcome to Hogwarts Centre for Magical Education of Wizards and Wit-"

"I'm here to see Albus Dumbledore." He dropped the parchment on the desk in front of him.

The witch glanced at it, obviously annoyed that her spiel had been cut off. "I'm afraid he died fifteen years ago."

"Nonetheless."

"We simply can't help you sir, and the exit is to your ri-"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist."

"Sir, he's dead."

"Could I suggest fetching a superior?"

"Sir, no matter who you talk to, Albus Dumbledore is dead."

"I fail to see a problem." Harry leaned forwards, hands on either side of the desk, "I am seeing Albus Dumbledore today, whether I have to go to his grave and raise him from beyond, or his office, which I believe is still temporarily locked, and his portrait." Flicking his eyes around him, he pulled a key from his sleeve and surreptitiously showed it to her, letting the embossed Hogwart's emblem speak for itself.

The witch paled, "You can open the headma- how do you know that it's locked? That's a state secret."

A lazy smile crossed his face, "Quite."

"Please stay here one second sir, I need to fetch a superior"

Harry rolled his eyes, and flicked his eyes around the room again. Constant vigiliance. Moody had drilled that much into all of his students, and more of them had survived the war than anyone had hoped. The three wizards, obviously together, presumably here to complain about some minor problem. Their kids, undoubtedly. The tall quiet blonde witch behind them, barely eighteen. Seeking a job perhaps, a reference? He couldn't quite place it. He was out of touch with the world, no matter what training he had.

Concentrating, he worked his will and cast a spell out into the air. Spare minutes should always be used to gain information. Another thing that Moody had drilled into all of them. He noted with quiet satisfaction the monitoring charms secreted around the room, a defence ward printed around the desk, a secondary ward under her desk that was linked somewhere. He let his eyes glance through the wall for a second, somewhere south. London perhaps. It wouldn't be unexpected for Hogwarts to have a direct link to the ministry these days, with a permanent High Inquisitor in lieu of headmaster.

"Excuse me sir, they're waiting for you."

He nodded to the reception witch and walked through the door that she indicated. She hadn't said who, she didn't need to. There weren't many people with the clearance to talk on the subject, and even fewer who would be present immediately at Hogwarts. It was unlikely the Minister was here, which was probably for the best. He had never got along with Dolores, especially after the Wizengamot war trials.

Glancing at the person's robes his eyes flickered from identification to identification. Professor. Gryffindor Head. And…

"High Inquisitor."

"Oh. My. God. It's you isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Harry leaned away from the excitable little man who was practically bouncing up and down in front of him, his sparkling robes flying in all directions.

"When she said someone was here about the headmaster's office, I just knew it, I just knew it. It had to be you! Who else would know?"

Harry peered closely at him, a puzzled look gracing his face. "I have absolutely no idea who you are."

"We went to school together! Don't you remember me? You must remember me!"

"Yeah, we, uh… You were in Gryffindor right?" Harry let his voice tail off, trying to place the an, trying not to reveal that he only knew as much as that thanks to the number of identification badges strewn around the man's robes.

"Yeah, I knew you'd remember me! Well come on then, let's go to the headmaster's office and see what you can do about it"

"Just like that?" Harry let himself be escorted along the corridor, his eyes flicking through the open doorways as they passed through the main part of the castle. A stack of textbooks, transfiguration and charms. A training dummy, set to the lowest level for duelling. An upper balcony to the Great Hall. Hogwarts never stopped changing, it was part of the charm of the building. Adapting to the needs of the inhabitants. Which is why Harry wasn't really entirely sure why there was the monstrosity outside, the glass roof visible from every exterior window they passed.

"…and this is where they teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. We're working on establishing a new post-NEWT exam to help ease into the Granger Institute's program.."

Harry caught the apparent tour guides addendum and butted into the man's spiel, "The Granger Institute? I haven't caught up with all the events of the last ten years yet. What is it?"

"Further Education, I think they're calling it. A bridging point between Hogwarts and the wider Magical World." The man looked around before leaning in to whisper, "If I'm honest, wizards and witches just weren't leaving Hogwarts with the needed qualifications to work for the Ministry or most of the magical industries! There just wasn't enough masters left after the war to train up new apprentices, so Professor Granger set up a-"

"Hermione?!" His incredulous tone must have showed, "Hermione set up a school? Jesus. I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised."

"Yeah, um, she, kind of. Yeah." The man gave him a funny look. Presumably Harry should have kept more up to date with the real world. He kicked it out of his mind: not really his problem either way.

"So here's where the headmaster's office was last known to be." They stopped in front of what looked to be a blank piece of wall.

Harry glanced left and glanced right and then snapped his fingers, shoving his magic into the wall in front of him. He wasn't particularly surprised when Hogwarts slapped his mind and gave him directions. "This is a stone wall. There isn't an office here. Follow me."

Stalking off, he heard the man trip behind him. It rang a bell, clumsiness was not that common in Gryffindor. Spinning he pointed a finger, "You're Dennis. Dennis Creevy."

"So you do remember!" The man's grin was infectious and Harry felt himself smiling back.

"We thought you'd gone and copped it last I heard. Glad to hear you're okay. And Colin?"

Dennis flinched. "Werewolves."

"I'm sorry" And Harry was.

"But here we are. Shall we?" Dennis turned slightly, hiding his face, but not hiding the catch in his voice.

Coughing nervously, Harry walked onwards down the passageway, the directions flashing as a set of images from what felt like a very irate mind.

"Do you still use the sorting hat?"

Dennis recovered himself slightly, if still a little more sombre than previously, "It hasn't been seen in years. It's all done by questionnaire at the minute."

Harry stared at him incredulously before shaking his head. Hogwarts without the sorting hat. Not that it was the Ministry's fault. It was, he admitted to himself, probably his. He should have come here a long time ago. He finally recognised where he was going too. He half-smiled as a familiar gargoyle appeared from around a corner.

"Password" it said, in a rather bored tone.

"Here? This is just where the Broken Gargoyle hangs out."

Harry glanced at the Gargoyle, which was yawning, obviously not quite awake. "Password, password, password, password, password." It repeated, droning in a monotone.

"It just does that for hours?" Harry flicked his glance over to Dennis.

"Yeah, so long as it can see someone."

Harry nearly laughed. Pulling out his wand, he walked up to the Gargoyle, "Let me in or I blow your head off."

"Passwo-" The gargoyle's eyes rolled round to meet Harry's eyes, before visibly gulping, all traces of sleepiness disappearing. It was hard to tell who had the stonier stare.

For a second, Harry thought that the gargoyle might have forgotten him and one of the more memorable incidents during the war. It had been a long day and he wasn't in the mood to piss around guessing a password that he swore the Gargoyle changed just to annoy him, so he'd just blasted his way through the snidely commenting statue.

Normally impervious to spells and willing to take the piss, it had laughed as his first blasting charm had soared through the air, and then spent the next month swearing at him as he slowly pieced it back together.

After a second, it remembered. It twitched. Then, it moved.

"Thank you." Harry walked on past it, casually stepping over it's outreached foot as if statutes trying to trip you up were an every day occurrence. "I'd like to have the moving staircase too please."

"That was so cool!"

"Lockhart always had a certain imitable style about him."

Dennis' eyes hardened for a second, his overbearing grins fading. "I thought he was a fraud."

"I never said he wasn't." Reaching the top of the staircase, Harry casually pushed open the door, collecting the dust out of the air with a wave of his wand.

Looking at the rather large ball of dust in front of him, and ignoring the somewhat more sober Dennis, he eyed up the quidditch pitch in the distance. Jabbing his wand, the ball flew dramatically, straight through the hoops, before bouncing onwards into the forest.

A voice cut through the air, "Ten points to Gryffindor I think, Mr Potter. I do not remember you playing Chaser though. A new skill perhaps?"

"Albus. It's good to see you." Harry glanced up at the headmaster's portrait, one of the few that remained in the office. He was not surprised that many of the other wizards had chosen to visit their other portraits, or otherwise move on. With no headmaster, the office would prove tedious, most probably.

"It's been a while."

"That it has. I hear you wanted a word?"

Albus' eyes gazed past Harry, staring at the man behind him, "Thank you Dennis. Mr Potter will be able to leave the premises without your assistance."

"Er, of course Headmas- I mean Albus. Anything you need, just shou.." he tailed off as the others in the room stared at him, "Yes, er, of course. Nice seeing you again Harry."

He backed out cautiously, closing the door behind him, his footsteps audible as he ran down the stairs.

"He's enthusiastic I suppose." Harry waved his wand after the wizard, sealing the gargoyle, the staircase and the upper door, before conjuring a chair to sit in.

Albus looked at the door before nodding, "Yes, yes he is. Perhaps not the most talented of the applicants for the role, but the one who would do the least damage to the school in lieu of a headmaster. I wish that you could have been convinced otherw-"

Harry's mouth tightened a little, "Dark wizards aren't allowed to become headmaster."

"Because that would have stopped you?" Albus raised an eyebrow as only he could do, before peering over the infernal half-moon glasses. "We both know, Mr Potter, that the only reason you were convicted is because you wanted to be convicted."

Harry waved a hand. "It's Lord Potter these days. The ministry gave me a few titles after the war."

"I know," a smug smile played across Dumbledore's lips, "Would you believe that it is the Greengrass family's youngest son that told me?"

"I thought the Greengrass family were all killed. Who did I miss?"

"Astoria, the younger daughter, was not part of the Death Eaters. Neither was she sorted into Slytherin. I believe that she was one of Ginny's friends for a while, as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shared classes for a year."

"Ginny had lots of friends."

"The best of us always do."

"I don't suppose there's anyway th-" Harry stopped suddenly before shaking his head as he lowered it into his hands. "No answer please. Not for that one."

Albus said nothing, a brief moment of concern fleetingly passing through his eyes as he watched Harry sink his head into his hands.

There was a moment of silence.

"Onto business Albus, please. I do not like to leave my house."

"You only had to stay there ten years, it has been nearly fifteen. Lord Potter, you have responsibilities. Take them up."

"A dozen votes on the Wizengamot that I don't want. A child who spends three days a year at my house and no more. A wife with no grave because no one found a body. A job that I can't claim and don't want because a person I should have killed took the ministry, took the courts, and created so many charges against me that they would have been a fool to let me walk free."

Harry rose from the chair suddenly, striding to the window trying to catch his breath, his speech getting carried away from him. "No Albus, I don't have responsibilities. I had one and only one." Sparks flew from his wand as he clenched his fist round it, "The murder of Voldemort and his thrice damned followers. I did that, every marked followed lies dead by my hand. What I have now is existence."

"And yet you came to see me when I asked."

"It is healthy to maintain a decent respect for the memory of a great wizard, especially one that trained you."

"How far does that respect go? Can I ask a favour, if you will not listen to me?"

"One favour. Nothing big, or dangerous. No grand plans, no lies and deceit. Can you manage that old man?"

Albus smiled congenially, "Speak to Hermione."

Harry physically flinched, pushing himself away from the window and back towards the perch that once had Fawkes balanced on it, where only dust remained.

He touched it with a finger silently, remembering the ghost of a memory, "I said nothing dangerous."

"Come Harry, she is hardly going to hu-"

"After two years in a tent, with only each other for company after that red haired bastard left her? She viewed what I became after we'd finished your precious treasure hunt as despicable. I'm not worried about being hurt" Harry's stormy eyes passed up to meet the portraits. "I'm worried that she's going to kill me before I even finish saying hello."

"She will understand that you did what had to be done. That you stood up and did what was necessary."

Harry's hand slashed through the air, silencing the portrait. "Even Sirius hated me by the end. And you Albus. You told me that I had fallen. That I was as good as dead." Anger fell away, gaunt eyes looking hollowly into the distance, "Sometimes I wonder if I might be better that way."

Albus mouthed emptily for a few seconds before realising. Rolling his eyes, the purple robed headmaster stepped into the next frame across in the office. "Death is somewhat boring Harry."

There was silence again, before Harry spoke, his eyes falling to the floor, "I thought it was supposed to be the next great adventure. Dumbledore's next experiment into the nature of reality."

There was a tone of dry cynicism, "So far there have been no virgins and precious few dragons to kill. I had hoped for at least one dark lord to keep myself busy, but with Grindelwad and Voldemort, I suppose that I have fought more than my fair share."

Harry let loose a bark of laughter. "We both know how you defeated Grindelwad. And we both know I killed Voldemort. The only dark lord you ever faced was me."

"You are not a dark lord."

"Tell that to the ministry."

"You did what needed to be done for the greater good."

"Tell me Albus, do you remember how you died?"

"You know as well as I that portraits only have the knowledge they are given." Dumbledore's portrait rubbed his eyes tiredly for a second, "I suppose that you are going to tell me that you murdered me."

"I did what I was told to do. You died in Diagon Alley, having just left Gringotts, at the hands of Harry Potter, yes." Harry sank back into a seat, summoning it without waving his wand, "That was the first stage of your grand plan. The death of Albus Dumbledore."

"It was necessary"

"It was painf-"

"I know. And I knew. Though, curiously, no one seems to be able to tell me what happened. They tell me about a duel, but not why, or when, or how."

Harry's voice went flat, "A history lesson. You brought me here for a history lesson."

"You did always want to teach."

"Not History."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Someone has to after your little accident with Binns"

"You're the one that told me I had to test the spell on someone already dead."

"I was hoping that you would choose Peeves."

"I like Peeves"

"God only knows why"

"Kindred spirits, I think" Harry smirked. "Are you sure you want to know how everything ended?"

"Tell me how it started." There was a note of challenge, a hint of desperation.

Harry met the portrait's eyes without flinching, "From the beginning?"

"From the beginning."