The Battle of Hogwarts had not been planned. In fact, it had been the very thing Harry, and by extension, the Order of the Phoenix had been trying to avoid.

It started with the rumour that Voldemort had come to Hogwarts in a terrible rage. Harry, Hermione and Tonks snuck in to investigate and found Dumbledore's tomb defiled and a Death Eater ambush. The ensuing fight was seen from the school and inspired the DA to rise up. This in turn drew both the Order of the Phoenix and more Death Eaters to the castle. Reinforcements poured in for both sides and Voldemort did not hesitate to launch a frontal assault. Werewolves and giants surged against the walls and smashed against them like the sea against hardened rock. Much like the Ministry employees who followed in their wake, they were slaughtered to a man. Badly outnumbered, the defenders held the high ground, but by the time the Death Eaters made their move, they were on the brink of exhaustion. Yet they stood strong.

For one moment it looked as if the ragtag band of Order members, Hogsmeade residents and the DA had carried the day. Then Voldemort made his presence known. With ease, he took the gatehouse and then breached the inner walls. Within minutes he had killed twice the number of defenders as the previous engagements.

The fighting reached its climax in the Atrium Hall where the Dark Lord engaged the survivors inside. Two dozen fell before Voldemort hit Harry with the killing curse. Both went down screaming, but before either could get back on their feet, Mad-Eye and Kingsley finished the tyrant off. The pair proceeded to the empty Ministry, where Moody took the post of interim Minister. Kingsley meanwhile began to deal with the surviving Muggleborn and those who sent them to Azkaban.

Harry, of course, spent this time under the watchful gaze of Madam Pomfrey. No one was quite sure why he was alive, but Harry was just glad to see Lavender again - she did her best never to leave his side. The surviving DA and Order members also stuck around, and while he did appreciate the thought, being looked after as if he might drop dead any second did get tiring really fast.

A few days after Harry had left the hospital wing, Minister Moody forced him into a press conference since all kinds of rumours had appeared, ranging from his death at the Battle of Hogwarts to the Minister making him disappear as well as countless theories about what had really happened during the war.

The Great Hall, the venue chosen for this gathering, was bursting with witches and wizards where the house tables used to stand. Harry and his companions were seated at the high table. The teachers' table gave him a strange perspective across the hall, its walls still marred by scorch marks. Windows had been shattered by stray spells and one of the pillars crumbled when Voldemort's curse had shaken the wall it was supporting.

And in between the two groups were the reporters, eyeing the high table like lions stalking their prey. They certainly looked predatory, enchanted quills their fangs and claws. Hermione had prepared an opening statement, but it turned out to be a wasted effort when a witch seized the initiative and silenced the crowd by doing so.

"Marlene Smith, Witch Weekly. I have a question for Miss Brown. How do you dare to show your face at this place after your cowardice during the war?"

The reporter had barely finished her sentence when the hall erupted in noise, and to Harry's annoyance, most of those were in agreement. Which was not surprising given how he had been treated by the public over the years, but he still wanted to break something, preferably that cunt's nose.

"Lavender left the country soon after Dumbledore's death on my request. And - "

"But, why?" the annoying witch tried to dig further while Harry reached for his girlfriend's hand under the table. However, Lavender did not flinch but instead fixed her eyes on the woman.

"Because I knew that she was too important to run the risk of being captured."

"But we all suffered hardships! We faced those risks as well!"

"Yes, but there is one big difference between you and Lavender. I don't care about you," Harry pointed out and bit back a remark about the hardships of running a gossip rag.

There was an eruption of noise, which covered Tonks' throaty chuckle.

"You aren't making friends right now."

"Had Voldemort captured her, I would have agreed to any deal just to save Lavender, even if that meant dooming the rest of you."

"Not better," Tonks whispered over the new commotion. She sounded amused as the crowd was staring at the high table as if they had grown a second head each.

"It was a regrettable choice, but one which I would make again."

"Then why didn't you do more?" someone from the crowd shouted before any reporter could ask another question.

"Why should I have done anything?" Harry shot back and the question stunned the audience.

"Excuse me?" the wizard from the Daily Prophet said, looking at the high table as if Harry had just sworn eternal servitude to a house elf.

"No, I mean seriously, why do you expect me to deal with all your problems?"

"You are the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"I am a 17-year-old boy who has not even finished his NEWTs, hell, I'm too young to buy a beer in the Muggle world, so why were you confident that I would be able to defeat Voldemort?" Harry wanted to know. It seemed that not even the arrest of half of their staff for collaboration with the Dark Lord and accessory to all kinds of crimes had improved the standards of that rag.

"The prophecy!"

"Seriously?"

"It was prophesied and you defeated the Dark Lord, what else is there to say?" the reporter replied as if Harry had asked if water was wet.

"The prophecy only said that I would, never when. So what if it would have taken me thirty years? Would you just watch as the Muggleborn were murdered for decades?"

"There was nothing we could do - "

"Next question," Hermione said before the argument could escalate further, even if the venom in her voice said what she was thinking on the matter. If Harry had doubts whether Moody wasn't taking his clean-up too far, she was the one who supported it wholeheartedly.

"What exactly were you doing during the past year?" Luna asked, making Harry glad that Tonks had suggested having at least one friendly face amongst the wolves. Someone who would ask the questions which actually needed to be asked.

"Good question from the Quibbler," Hermione said and Harry was amazed that she managed to deliver that line straight-faced. "As you know, Voldemort was not killed in 1981, he merely lost his body. Two years ago, Professor Dumbledore discovered the steps that Voldemort had taken to remain as a wraith even as his body was destroyed and, until his death, worked towards undoing them. He tasked us with continuing this mission - "

"And that took you all year?"

"The mere fact that no one else even suspected how Voldemort had ensured his survival should tell you that this was not an easy undertaking."

"We had to infiltrate both the Ministry and Gringotts, both of which required extensive preparations," Tonks added to Hermione's words.

"So it's true, you robbed Gringotts?" a wizard shouted from the general vicinity of the Ravenclaw table. Or rather, where it should have been.

"We did not rob Gringotts, we had to destroy an item in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault which had been entrusted to her by Voldemort. We took nothing from the vaults other than that single item."

"Stan Wilmore, Irish Magic. Mister Potter, is it true that you were involved in the death of Undersecretary Umbridge?"

"No," he replied confidently, and that was not even a lie. Hearing what the vile woman had been up to had disgusted him, but Tonks had been the one who snapped after finding a list with her father's name on it. And with her abilities, it would be impossible to trace the deed back to her.

"Mister Potter, is it true that you were negotiating with creatures?"

"No. Getting them to join our side was part of Dumbledore's grand scheme, but I was not involved in that operation. Both Hagrid and the late Professor Lupin made various attempts in that regard, I'm sure Hagrid could tell you more about his time with the giants."

Harry did not even feel bad for throwing his oldest friend to the reporters, it was an opportunity to redeem his name in the public eye and get him the recognition he deserved.

"Fritz Becker, Magischer Anzeiger," an elderly wizard in a grey coat spoke up. "Mister Potter, what was it like to be hit with the killing curse?"

"It hurt, badly. But, I was conscious for the whole time, I felt the curse wash over me, it was like burning alive - I don't know why the curse did not work, I'm not an expert on magical theory."

"Mister Potter, what are your future plans?" the Witch Weekly reporter asked, her voice drowning out several of her colleagues. Harry's eyes were drawn from Luna to the annoying woman and he decided to have a quiet chat with his friend later, give her a few insights no other publication would be privy to.

"Well, first of all, I was thinking of taking a vacation. Hogwarts doesn't resume until the first of September," Harry replied and knew that this was not the answer they wanted to hear. But after the past year, he had no desire to race up the career ladder and become Britain's youngest Minister of Magic, or Head Auror. In fact, if he'd never have to set foot into the Ministry building again, it would be too soon. "I've heard that Spain is lovely this time of the year."

Later that night, back at Grimmauld Place, Lavender had her head on Harry's shoulder and traced patterns on his chest while he played with her hair. There was a sense of content happiness that had been missing during his visits to France. And for the first time since the battle, they were alone in their togetherness.

"So a vacation in Spain?"

"That was just a diversion for the reporters, I hope that they will waste time and money looking for us there. But I have an idea -

"

"Oh?"

"You see, Hermione can keep herself entertained with books. Tonks could become anyone and go out pretending to be a Muggle. But I was stuck wherever we were hiding. So I did some research with the yellow pages and a phone," he explained, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

"Research?"

"You said that you wanted to race cars, so I looked into that. Well, as good as I could without leaving our hiding spots."

"You said that it was very complicated."

"Professional racing, yes," Harry conceded. "Most people who are there started around the age we came to Hogwarts. Frankly, we would stand no chance and trying to catch up would be a waste of time. But there are many who do it for fun, as a hobby. You only need a driving licence for that."

"And a car."

"I asked the lady on the phone about that, and she said that the beginner-friendly races are often with cheap cars. A thousand pound for the whole deal, including the necessary safety modifications. That's what, 20 Galleons each?"

"Just like that? I say that I want to try something and we do it?"

"It sounds like fun, and it's not like we can't afford it. And there's always carts if you just want to try it out," Harry shrugged, which drew an annoyed glare from Lavender. Her pillow was not supposed to move.

"But without me, you never would have even thought about motor racing."

"I didn't think about a lot of things. I - I didn't think that I would have a future, to be honest. I got into life-or-death situations several times a year and made it out on sheer dumb luck. I was sure that that luck would eventually run out. I didn't expect that I would survive, but after last year you made me hope that, against all odds, I would make it. And now that I'm here and Voldemort is gone, it - I don't think I've comprehended it yet."

"Oh Harry," Lavender bemoaned and did her best to squeeze the life out of him. It was an awkward angle and did not take her long to flip them over and cradle Harry against her neck, drawing waves on his neck and shoulders as she kissed his forehead.

"I would have fought Voldemort regardless, but the memory of those stolen moments," he trailed off and tapped her nose. "You, Lavender Brown, are more addictive than any drug. Your touch, your scent, your voice - I went to hell and back just to be back here, in your arms. And I know this will sound sappy, but I didn't fight Voldemort for Britain. The Isles, it's just too big to imagine. Thousands of witches and wizards, millions of people who didn't even know about Voldemort. Instead, I thought about what I could imagine. Well, I didn't need to imagine Hermione or Dora, I saw them all the time. So instead I thought of you."

Lavender didn't care that her vision was blurry and her cheeks wet, she pulled Harry up into a searing kiss. And then another three for good measure.

"When I saw that green light coming at me, too close to dodge or block, I - I just wanted more time with you," Harry whispered, his lips brushing against hers. They had the house to themselves, yet he felt the need to keep his voice down.

"Do you know why - why that curse did not work?" Lavender asked, not speaking up either. They had talked while he was in the hospital wing, but had avoided heavy topics. A room full of the wounded and dying had not felt like the place for that conversation.

"Professor Dumbledore's portrait had a few theories, but none really convinced me. But the one which came closest is that it was some side-effect from the ritual Voldemort used to give himself a body. He took my blood, so the curse didn't work properly," Harry repeated the explanation he had been told. And yet no matter how often he thought about it, it always seemed like one coincidence too many.

"That - I - But - "

"I reacted just like that. Between all the dark magic Voldemort used to stay alive, the ritual to return his body, my mother's sacrifice and the prophecy, who knows what happened?"

"How bad was it really?"

"It reminded me of Basilisk venom, felt like a fire inside of me, inside my veins. The pain didn't last long, but I was doubling over, then I thought my head would split and by the time I didn't feel like I was dying, Voldemort was slain and Moody yanked me up to my feet."

"You mentioned a vacation plan," Lavender said after a moment of silence, desperate to move to lighter topics.

"I've seen a travel show on the telly and Canada looked like a nice place to visit."

"Canada? To be honest, I have never really thought about that place. It was just there, somewhere past Ireland - "

"We can go somewhere else," Harry was quick to point out, but Lavender was having none of it.

"No, it just was never on my mind. So tell me, what made you want to go there?"

"Well, it wasn't so much a single place, but rather the landscapes. I don't want to see Vancouver or Montreal the same way I'd like to visit Paris, Rome or Prague. Instead, I was thinking about a cottage at a small lake. No neighbour within a mile, endless forests surrounding us. We could sleep in and have a late breakfast, then swim in the lake and laze at its shore, just enjoying the sun. Or maybe we would rent a holiday home at the foot of the mountains. Apparate to the foot of a trail, hike for a few hours and then pop back for a barbecue as the sun sets. Cuddling at a campfire, watching the night sky far from any big city - "

"Yes."

"What?"

"We're going to Canada for a few weeks. You sold me on the idea. Just the two of us, a nice house by a lake, surrounded by nature and - "

Harry grinned as his girlfriend gushed over the details of their holiday. He had made vague plans based on a TV program, but it sounded as if they'd have to visit a travel agency soon. Or maybe they'd get their driving licences first - There was no rush, they had a few months to sort everything out. As the fireplace crackled softly in the background, he realised again that this was what love felt like. The warmth which shone through every fibre of him, the smile which drove the dark clouds away, the soft voice which could always draw a smile from him. And finally, he could enjoy it without Voldemort looming over him.

AN:

Beta'ed by LifeEquals42.

In 2012, Top Gear's 18th season proved that you can do Rallycross on a budget. Namely £1400. I've guesstimated an inflation adjustment since this is taking place 14 years earlier.

And this took a while because I had trouble finding the right words for the story I imagined. I wanted a different, more sensible Horcrux hunt and Battle of Hogwarts without making it unrecognisable. There's a time and place to deconstruct them properly, but this isn't the story for it.

So a brief summary of what went differently (which I hope is not necessary after this chapter):

Malfoy does not manage to repair the vanishing cabinet, consequently, there's no Hogwarts Raid and Snape does not kill Dumbledore. He does not become headmaster.

Dumbledore succumbs to the curse over the summer, giving him more time to tell Harry what he needs to know. Therefore, he knows about the Hallows and there's no visit to Xeno Lovegood.

There is no 7 Potter plot, Moody survives and later becomes interim Minister.

Tonks rather than Ron joins the Horcrux hunt. She spent time preparing for that rather than trying to talk Remus into marrying her. Using her abilities and knowledge, she easily infiltrates the Ministry and kills Umbridge

The Battle of Hogwarts happens more like you'd expect an uphill assault on a fortified position to go. Voldemort throws more of his minions into the fray and only his personal intervention allows the walls to be breached. The death toll for the attackers is significantly higher, for the defenders it comes down to a pretty canonical result with fewer falling earlier and more to Voldemort himself. Who lived and who died there is up to your interpretation.