It was well after dawn by the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Great Hall. They had spent the morning wandering the castle and the grounds, visiting old haunts and familiar locations. They walked openly, the invisibility cloak tucked away in Harry's robes. They didn't speak much, instead silently drawing comfort from their friendship. As they walked, they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The damage to their beloved school was horrible, but not irreparable.
Their walking eventually brought them back down to the Great Hall. They followed the sounds and smells of breakfast into the large room. The house tables had been restored the day before, but students and adults continued to sit anywhere chatting with each other. Up above, the enchanted ceiling showed a sky that promised a warm, beautiful spring day was head. As the three of them entered, a hush fell across the entire Hall. Harry could feel every eye in the room on him and his friends. Harry stared at the floor, overwhelmed by the attention. Conversation quickly picked up again, but he could still feel people watching him.
Ron however, seemed to be enjoying the attention. He nodded and smiled at the people staring at them. "Come on Harry, we're heroes!" he said, raising his hand and waving. "There's Mum and Dad. Let's see if they saved us any breakfast." He took Hermione's hand and started off down the table.
Harry looked at the Weasley family. Mr. Weasley and Bill seemed to be deep in discussion, but they were watching Ron and Hermione coming down the table with raised eyebrows. Fleur, Charlie, and Percy were seated around George, not saying anything. George was looking down at his porridge, swirling a spoon around aimlessly. Mrs. Weasley kept glancing between George and her husband while she stroked Ginny's hair. Ginny's head was in her hands, her long hair a curtain over her face.
Harry saw the grief of the Weasley family. He felt that this wasn't a time for outsiders like him. They needed to be together as a family right now. Having the person who had been responsible for so many attacks on their family sitting next to them would not help their grief. He turned away from the family he had hurt. Besides, a small voice inside him said, Ginny probably hates you for everything that's happened. She doesn't want to see you. That's why she's not looking at you.
Harry felt dread filling the pit of his stomach. The grief he had been trying to avoid all morning came rushing back into him. He looked around the room, seeing all the grieving friends and families. His mind filled in all the missing people from their groups. He couldn't stand to be there any longer. With a sudden start, he turned around and walked out of the Great Hall, turning to go up the large marble staircase.
Harry resumed his aimless wanderings around the castle. The pain of loss was greater now that Ron and Hermione were no longer beside him. Each splash of blood, every destroyed painting felt like a stab into his soul. The broken walls and crumpled statues felt like hammering blows from an angry giant. Harry staggered from corridor to corridor, soaking in all the pain and loss and grief that the culmination of the war brought.
Harry stopped next to a broken gargoyle. Looking about, Harry suddenly realized where he was. He was standing outside Dumbledore's office. It was here, mere hours ago, that he realized he was doomed to die and that he had carried a part of Voldemort's soul inside of him for 16 years. With a start, he realized he had been walking back along the path he had taken to the forest from the Headmaster's Office. He was searching for answers again, and it had brought him back to this hallway, as it always had.
The realization of the past few years caught up with Harry. The deaths of Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore all came back to him, piling up on the recent wounds of the victims of the past year. It was all too much for Harry to handle. He slumped against the wall, falling to the ground as the weight of his actions and grief bore down on him. He had brought the battle to Hogwarts, brought pain to safe places. He stared at the floor beyond his feet, but his eyes saw nothing. His mind was filled with haunting memory of the victims and the unspoken accusations of the living. He felt that those that he had protected would be grateful, but he couldn't see how they could ever forgive him. His actions had cost many their lives and those that had not died were harmed in some way. No one had escaped the war unscathed. While what he had done was the right thing to do, the cost had been too high. Too much blood had been paid for the victory.
Nothing seemed to matter any more. He had accomplished the task that destiny had laid before him. What else was there to do? He had been marked for a labor and had completed it. His journey was over. He had survived once more, but he was also alone again. He was too old to return to Hogwarts, the first home he had ever had. He couldn't return to the Burrow, not after the grief he had caused to the Weasley family. Grimmauld Place was a just lonely, dark hole to hide in away from everyone else, if it was even still standing after the Death Eaters had been able to gain access. And even if he had even wanted to go back to Privet Drive, he knew that the Dursleys would never welcome him. He was now a man, but a man without a home or a family.
Harry was so absorbed in the horror and sorrow of his mind that he failed to realize someone had joined him. It wasn't until Harry felt a small hand gently take his that he realized he was not alone. Slowly, Harry's eyes refocused on his surroundings. Beside him knelt the only person in the world that Harry wanted to see.
"Gin...Ginny," Harry's voice cracked as he looked at her.
She nodded slowly, her eyes roaming his face. Her long red hair was still loose, and her brown eyes were bloodshot, probably from crying. Her face was drawn and pale. She didn't look like she had slept well. Despite all this, the look she was giving Harry was of concern for him. She slowly sat down next to him, still holding his hand.
They sat there quietly for a minute, just holding hands. Ginny finally spoke in a quiet voice "When you left the Great Hall, we were all worried. Everyone is looking for you."
Harry stared at the floor. "I wasn't hungry," he said just as quietly.
Ginny reached over with her other hand and gently took Harry by the chin. She turned his face up so that their eyes met. Her face had a fierce quality, but she smirked at him. "Harry Potter, don't you dare lie to me," she said firmly. "You may be the Chosen One, but I will hex you three ways from Wednesday." Her eyes softened somewhat as Harry felt ashamed. She spoke again "Now, tell me what is keeping the hero of the wizarding world from enjoying some toast with his friends?"
Harry looked into the face of the girl he had missed so much over the past year. He didn't say anything for a bit, instead collecting his thoughts. Ginny didn't interrupt or try to rush him. She just waited for Harry to speak. Finally, he said in a low voice "My actions have caused so much damage, so many deaths. I know what I did was right, but did I do it the right way? Could I have done things differently and saved people? How can you or your family or anyone forgive me for what I had to do? All of this..." he gestured, indicating the castle and all that had happened yesterday and all the days before. "All of this is because of me."
Ginny's grip on Harry's hand tightened. "Oh, Harry," she sighed "This is so like you. Are you seriously saying that it's your fault that everyone fought? No one was fighting for you. We fought because we chose to. People fought and died to protect others from Voldemort and his kind. By blaming yourself for their deaths, you are taking the meaning of their sacrifice away!"
Ginny blinked rapidly, staring into Harry's eyes. "They were fighting to create a better world. They chose to be here and to fight. We all did. Everyone who fought knew what they were doing because we've known this was coming for a long time. Do you think that Fred..." at the mention of her brother's name, Ginny's voice cracked and her eyes began to water. "Fred didn't die for you. He was fighting for peace and for laughter."
Harry looked away. He shook his head, and started to protest. She smacked him in the arm, hard. She growled fiercely "Don't you dare take this all onto yourself Harry. You sent no one to their death. Let them stand for themselves!"
Harry winced sharply as her hand slapped him again, right over his heart, where the killing spell from Voldemort had hit him. She must have hit him hard for it to hurt that much. Harry looked up at her, and saw that her eyes were filled with tears. He reached out for her, but she pushed his hand away. "Damn you Harry Potter! I am done with crying over you!" She slapped at him again, but his seeker reflexes were ready this time. He caught her hand, stopping it before she could strike him again. With that, she finally began to cry, collapsing forward onto Harry. He held her close, feeling her tears soak his shirt. He could barely hear her as she mumbled into his chest. "Oh Harry," she sobbed "How could you let me think you had died?"
Harry didn't say anything. He just held her, running his fingers through her hair. His chest stung where she had hit him. After a moment, she leaned back, her arms still against his chest. She gave a long sniff, and Harry couldn't help but smile at her. She looked so funny with her red eyes and nose clashing with her hair wonderfully. She slowly grinned back at him. "What's so funny Potter? Never seen a girl cry before?"
Harry shook his head "I didn't know you had it in you. I thought you were one of those tough girls, one who would never let a boy get to her."
Ginny smiled back, rubbing her sleeve against her nose. "I was until you came along. I suppose I had better get rid of you." She stood up, rubbing her hands through his messy black hair. She offered her hands to Harry to help him get up. "Come along. Let's get some breakfast into you. We can't have The Boy Who Lived dying of hunger the day after he saved the world."
Ron and Hermione found Harry where they had last seen him, back in the Great Hall. He was sitting at the Gryffindor table beside Ginny, munching on a piece of toast. Hermione rushed up to them, out of breath. "Where were you Harry? We've been looking all over for you! We were worried."
Harry concentrated on buttering his toast. "I just needed to take a walk. I wasn't ready for breakfast."
Hermione raised her eyebrow at him as Ron sat down across from them. As Ron reached for a stack of toast, Hermione instead turned to question Ginny. "You found him? How? Where was he?"
Ginny glanced sideways at Harry, who was still focused on his breakfast. "Of course I found him. He was just walking around the halls. I found him up by Snape's - , I mean, McGonagall's office."
Ron looked at Hermione. "We should have known. Harry always goes to Dumbledore's office after the big stuff."
Harry rolled his eyes. Between bites of toast, he asked "Oh? Is McGonagall Headmistress now? Good for her."
Ron began to much on his breakfast. "Of course she is. Who else would it be? They announced it last night after you had gone to bed. Kinglsey's been made temporary Minister as well."
"Harry! There you are!" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried over their discussion as she and Mr. Weasley strode down the table towards them. Harry stood up to meet them.
"Mrs. Weasley," he said, intercepting them. "I know I said it yesterday, but I wanted to again. I'm so, so sorry about Fred. I -" Harry was cut off as Mrs. Weasley pulled him into one of her huge motherly hugs. Harry could hear her sniffling as she held him close.
"I know, dear," she said into his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for everything. You're such a sweetheart."
Mr. Weasley looked Harry in the eye over his wife's head. "Harry, we want you to know that we don't blame you. It's not your fault. We all choose to be here, we all took the risks." He shook his head sadly.
Mrs. Weasley released Harry with a final squeeze. His ribs were aching from where she had held him. She reached into her robe and drew out a lace hanky and dabbed at her eyes. Mr. Weasley placed a comforting arm around his wife, and gently led her to her seat.
Harry sat back down, turning to Ron and Hermione. "Why does everyone think that I will be blaming myself for yesterday?" he said accusingly, though slightly abashed. He knew that their concern was well placed after his talk with Ginny.
"Well..." Hermione shared the same sheepish look with Ron that she had that morning. "We may have talked about it last night," she said in a rush. "We were worried that you would take it too hard and then run off. So Ron and I decided to stay up and wait for you in the Common Room just in case you decided to do anything stupid in the middle of the night. When we couldn't find you after coming in for breakfast, we were worried that you had gone and done it after all." She glanced back at Ron, looking for encouragement. "Harry, you do have a tendency to do those sorts of things."
"Really, mate. You do have a daft sense of nobility," Ron said, nodding his head.
Harry glanced at his two friends and then back to Ginny. She was very focused on drinking juice. It seemed she wanted to keep their discussion between themselves. Harry was grateful for that kindness. He sighed. "Yes, I suppose I do."
"Wait a minute," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Ron, Hermione, what were you two doing in the Common Room by yourselves all night? I thought you were in your beds!" She looked very sternly at the two of them, but over her shoulder Harry caught a boyish gleam in Mr. Weasley's eyes.
Ron and Hermione were spared the awkward problem of answering such a question. Ginny suddenly pointed at Harry's chest. "Harry? Are you bleeding?" she asked, looking concerned.
Harry glanced down. Sure enough, blood was soaking through the front of his shirt. It seemed to be coming from the top of his chest. Harry hadn't thought about it before she mentioned it, but now that she had, he could feel a dull throbbing. It had been throbbing since Ginny had hit him. "It's probably just a cut. I'll be alright," Harry said, trying to brush it off.
"Here Harry, dear, let me take a look at it," Mrs. Weasley said, leaning across the table towards Harry.
"Molly, I think he needs to let Poppy examine him," Mr. Weasley said to his wife. He turned to Harry "I know you didn't want a fuss yesterday, but we need to get you checked out. Hospital Wing." He stood, and motioned for everyone else as well. "Come on Harry. Let's get you taken care of."
By the time they had reached the Hospital Wing, the cut in Harry's chest had risen to an aching, burning feeling. Hermione had conjured some sort of white, gauze-like cloth and told Harry to apply pressure to his chest, despite his assurances that he was fine. Between her insistence and that of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, Harry was made sure to do as they asked. Mr. Weasley chuckled as all three women kept an eye on him while they walked to the ward, apparently amused at Harry's predicament.
Madam Pomfrey was checking out some of the injured survivors as they arrived. When she saw who it was that needed her help, she swept over in a hurry. "Mr. Potter. I should have know that I would be seeing you. Doesn't hardly seem like a proper school year without you showing up in my ward" she said with a warm smile. "Let's see what's going on, shall we?"
She led Harry and the others over to one of the few empty beds. Many beds were filled with sleeping patients, but some held people sitting up, quietly visiting with friends or family. "Most of the more critically wounded have been taken to St. Mungo's now," she said in response to their questioning eyes. "Just a couple of students with broken bones and the like. Now, Mr. Potter, please remove your shirt."
Harry quickly glanced around. The others weren't leaving, apparently. Desperately avoiding meeting Ginny's eyes, Harry did as he was told. The blood had dried slightly, so he winced as he peeled the fabric free from his skin. Once again, his muscles protested as he hoisted his shirt above his head and set it on the bed beside him.
Madam Pomfrey examined his chest "That is quite the collection, Mr. Potter. I'm not sure if I have ever seen you in so many colors," she said, giving another warm smile. While she didn't always have much patience with visitors in her ward, she did have an excellent bedside manner.
Harry risked a look up, and he saw Ginny's eyes widen as she took in just how battered his body was. The bruise that had been just forming this morning had developed, erupting into violent shades of blue, orange, and black. It spread across his chest and down his stomach, centered over his heart. Another large bruise, this time wrapping around his side and moving onto his back was probably caused from him falling out of Hagrid's arms and hitting the ground, or perhaps from when Voldemort was celebrating by tossing Harry up into the air. Harry also saw more bruising and cuts covering his arms where he had gripped against the dragon as they escaped from Gringotts. He imagined that his legs sported some as well, for similar reasons.
"Merlin, Harry" Ron said, slightly awed. "How have you been managing to walk around?"
Harry simply grunted as Madam Pomfrey gently guided his shoulders down onto the bed. She began muttering spells as her wand swept up and down Harry's torso, checking for any internal injuries. Harry looked back over and saw that Ginny had gone slightly white. She was gripping her mothers hand. They both looked at him in shock.
"What?" Harry said, finally looking Ginny in the eye. "Disappointed I don't have a Horntail tattoo after all?" he joked, trying to break the tension.
"N-no-o" Ginny said, shakily. "Harry... When did you get that?" she asked, haltingly, and pointing to his chest.
Harry glanced down at his chest. Through the mess of bruises, he could see the shallow, scarred depression where Hermione had used a Severing Charm to remove the Horcrux locket after the attack at Godric's Hollow. Right beside it, above where his heart would be, was a long cut. It was slowly oozing blood.
Madam Pomfrey immediately syphoned away the blood. As she did so, her face grew white as well. "Oh my," she said, clutching herself. Everyone was staring at his chest.
Harry could see now what they all were looking at. The wound was as long as he had assumed, but it was jagged and somewhat deeper than he had first imagined. It was a cut that was a very familiar shape, that of a lightning bolt. Harry had been marked a second time by another Killing Curse.
"Oh," Harry said quietly. "I suppose I got it in the Forbidden Forest when I turned myself in to Voldemort." Harry was staring at the remains of the curse along with the others. "He, uh, well, he fired another Killing Curse at me. Guess this one didn't stick either," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mr. Weasley looked astounded. "Another Killing Curse? Harry, I - " but he was cut off as Ginny flung herself onto Harry, her fiery hair whipping him in the face as she landed on his chest. She was holding Harry so tightly that he thought she would surely break his bones. He felt like she was trying to hold so tight that she would never let him go.
This action brought Madam Pomfrey back to reality. "Ms. Weasley!" she said in her typically annoyed tone. "Please remove yourself from Mr. Potter! I need to see about attending to his wounds."
Slowly, Ginny sat back up, and crawled back off the bed. Her own shirt now had a bit of blood on it where it had rested again Harry's cut. Her mother looked at Ginny sternly, disapproving. Whether this was because of the embrace or because Ginny had gotten in the way of Madam Pomfrey, Harry wasn't sure.
Madam Pomfrey quickly had everyone escorted out and drew the privacy curtains around Harry's bed. As she administered to Harry, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation going on outside of the curtains.
"Ginevra! What was that all about?" Mrs. Weasley said sharply.
"Mum, I'm sorry." Ginny said, not really sounding particularly sorry.
Mrs. Weasley apparently did not believe it either. "You ought to be apologizing to Harry and to Madam Pomfrey. You were getting in the way, and probably hurting Harry! That was not appropriate behavior!"
Harry could see Ginny's shadow through the curtain as she placed her hands on her hips. "I know, Mum," she huffed. Harry saw her head drop slightly as Ginny evidently looked at the floor. Her voice softened as she continued.. "I was just...worried when I saw his chest. I had hit Harry earlier in the chest, and when I saw what had happened, and then knowing that I had hit him, I..." Harry thought he recognized the tone. It was the tone Ginny used when she was not being completely honest.
A shadow that could only have been Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and hugged her daughter. "I understand, dear," she said. "Just... try to be more careful from now on, alright?"
Ron spoke up. "You hit Harry? What'd you do that for?"
Ginny sighed as her mother stepped back. "He was being a prat. He was doing like you and Hermione said, taking the blame of everything on himself. I thought he deserved it... or at least I did at the time..." her voice trailed off again.
Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry, who was rather embarrassed by this ordeal. Thankfully, she seemed to understand his predicament. She stuck her head out of the curtains and ordered them all out of her ward, saying "This is no time for visitors! I will send for you when it is." The Weasleys and Hermione reluctantly left, mentioning that they needed to see the others and let them know that that Harry was found.
Harry watched as she returned and tried to administer to his pains. She gave him several potions and then began to magic away his pains. "If this is a curse scar, Mr. Potter, I may not be able to do much with it," she said in a professional tone. "It looks like this gave you several bruised ribs as well. I advise taking it easy the next couple of weeks and give it a chance to heal naturally. Healing magic is not normally effective against such dark curses. Not that we have anything to reference in this case, unless you remember the treatment for..." she trailed off, her eyes performing the familiar flick to his forehead, giving the scar a meaningful look.
As Harry had been all of one year old at the time he received that one, he didn't know what they had done to treat it. "I don't. I was placed with my aunt and uncle then, so I suppose they just used muggle means to heal it," he said.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, and continued to treat his remaining injuries. As Harry had suspected, his pains did extend past his torso. He had to remove his jeans as well, while Madam Pomfrey politely turned her back. Harry took the moment to really examine himself. Beyond his minor cuts and bruises, he was covered in scars. Besides the two Killing Curse scars and the scar from removing the locket, he had numerous other marks. His hand still bore the words "I must not tell lies" in his own handwriting. Umbridge had forced him to write that over and over in his own blood as he stood against the lies of the Ministry. Further up his arm was the puncture marks from Nagini's fangs. He was bitten by the snake while trying to escape in Godric's Hollow. On his other arm was the scar from the knife cut where Peter Pettigrew had taken blood from Harry as part of the ritual to bring back Voldemort in Harry's fourth year. His lifelong fight had left him marked.
He sat back down, and let Madam Pomfrey return to his care. She was healing bruises on the inside of his thigh when they were interrupted. Professor McGonagall came storming in through the curtained partition unannounced. Harry jumped, reaching for his wand before he saw who it was. When he recognized the teacher, he instead grabbed the sheets off the bed and quickly pulled them up over himself.
"Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey said with a shout. "Why, you scared me half to death! What on earth are you doing? What's wrong?"
Professor McGonagall looked at Harry in shock. "Someone told me that Potter was in the Hospital Wing, and I feared the worst." She looked slightly shaken, and reached out a hand to the end of the bed to steady herself.
"I'm alright Professor, really I am," Harry said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, only his head sticking out above the bed sheets.
"Just some cuts and bruises, and a couple of bruised ribs" Madam Pomfrey supplied. "And a... a curse scar. He'll be alright once that heals up."
"A curse scar? Surely, you don't mean...?" McGonagall asked, looking quickly between the healer and Harry..
Reluctantly, Harry lowered the sheets. The lightning bolt scar across his chest was still clearly visible. Madam Pomfrey had not yet decided on the best method of treatment. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from the professor.
"Oh, Potter." McGonagall said, raising her hand to her mouth. "I..."
Harry then saw something he had never thought he would see again after the fight in the Ravenclaw common room. Professor McGonagall was at a loss for words.
After taking a moment to collect herself, she turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, I assume that you can get Mr. Potter back on his feet soon?" After getting her assurance, McGonagall turned back to Harry, who quickly pulled the sheets back up. "Potter... Harry. Kingsley and I would like to speak with you, Ron, and Hermione later. I believe that we have much to discuss."
Harry nodded. He had known it was coming sooner or later. He would have to tell people what had happened because they deserved to know what they had fought for. But, perhaps if he could get everyone together, he wouldn't have to tell it so many times.
"I had assumed so, Professor. Do you think we could have some others there as well? Like the rest of the Weasleys, Neville, and Hagrid? I don't want to have to tell this story more than necessary."
McGonagall nodded. "Very well. If that is what you think is best, Harry, then I am sure we can make it happen," she nodded. "Shall we say this afternoon, in my office?"
"That sounds perfect," Harry said. As McGonagall turned to leave, he called out, somewhat embarrassedly "Oh, Professor? Um, congratulations on being made Headmistress. I can't think of anyone better."
McGonagall paused, and then thanked Harry. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw his strict, old teacher blush.
