He's trudging up the large stone steps to the boys dormitory from the Gryffindor common room, tired unlike anything he's ever known. His body is aching in places he had never thought possible. He knows he should feel immense sadness, for all that they've lost, for the people he'll never see again.
With a pang, he thought of Fred. Always smiling, always bringing cheer. Gone. Lupin and Tonks. The small child they left behind. He can't help but see the similarity between himself and little Teddy, parents sacrificing themselves for a better world for their child. He feels numb.
He finally makes his way to his large four poster bed, readily awaiting him. With a groan, he collapsed, and fell into a deep sleep.
…
He was dreaming. Ginny, not tending to a wounded girl, but lying, dead, next to Fred. Mrs. Weasley and Ron turned to look at him, disgust on their faces. It was his fault their children, siblings, were dead. His fault….
"Mate, wake up," Ron exchanged a worried look with Hermione.
Harry heard Ron's voice, but he didn't sound angry. He sat up, fumbling for his glasses, and finally found them on the small table sat next to his bed. Once he had them on, he saw that both Ron and Hermione had joined him, looking extremely concerned.
"Where's Ginny?" Ron shared a puzzled look with Hermione, who only seemed bemused.
"She's, uh, she's down in the Great Hall, with everyone else. We've been looking for you, no one knew where you'd gone, once everything settled and all.." Ron trailed off, looking sheepish.
"How long have I been asleep then?" Harry did feel quite well rested, albeit still sore from the impact of the curse.
"Well… a full day," Hermione too looked somewhat sheepish, and Harry briefly wondered what the young couple had been up to in the 24 hours he'd been asleep.
"A day? What have I missed? How have you let me sleep this long?" Harry felt a slight irritation that no one had bothered to wake him for the surely important events of the previous day.
"Listen, Harry, no one knew where you'd gone, and everything was so busy, arranging things.." Again, Ron trailed off, and Hermione began to smile.
"Only Harry Potter would wake from surviving a second killing curse, and be irate no one had woken him sooner." She leaned in to hug him, grateful her friend was there, solid and whole, still breathing. He grunted with the force of her hug, and she drew back, the look of concern dominating her features again.
"You need to see Madame Pomfrey, Harry." Harry groaned, wanting to avoid the inevitable fussing and reprimand he would surely face in the hospital wing.
"Can't you fill me in first?" Hermione seemed ready to put up a fight, but Ron obliged.
"Hermione, he's got a right to know. Kingsley's been named temporary minister, but everyone thinks temporary is just a formality, he's sure to be the next Minister of Magic. McGonagall is headmistress now, and her and the other teachers have started repairing the castle. Some things are harder than others, the dark magic and all. Most of the people who were injured have been sent to St. Mungo's, and people have, erm.. Started to collect their, um, their dead." There was a heavy silence, and Harry felt deeply responsible for the death that had occurred in the past 48 hours. Sensing this, Hermione interjected.
"People are grateful Harry, really. People are asking after you, wanting to thank you," She looked at him beseechingly, willing him to understand that no one blamed him for the deaths of their family members. He gave a short nod, finding this a hard truth to accept.
"Some of the death eaters managed to escape, Kingsley is working on finding a reliable team to round them up, he's asked to speak to the three of us later today. He knows me and you want to be aurors, Harry." Ron seemed to brighten at this, and honestly Harry couldn't help but feel a spark of hope as well. He couldn't rest until the war had been finished, and that wouldn't happen until every one of those Death Eaters were in Azkaban, wasting away.
At this moment, Ron's stomach growled loudly and he grinned sheepishly. "Mum sent us looking for you before anyone had a chance to eat breakfast. She's lost her head a bit, Kingsley being minister and asking to speak to us, her two boys. Mental, she is." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, Ronald. Is your stomach all you can think about?" She looked bemused, but Harry could see that something had changed between them. If he was being honest with himself, he was anxious to see a certain someone in the great hall…
With this thought, he clambered out of bed and was ready to make his exit to have some breakfast, and hopefully have a chat with Ginny.
"Erm, Harry? Don't you maybe want to freshen up before you present yourself back to the public?" Hermione grinned, gesturing to Harry's filthy clothes. There were rips in places, and even some singing, as well as stains of dried blood and dirt. He smiled sheepishly, and Hermione shook her head, tergeoing the filth off his clothes. He thanked her quickly, and the threesome made their way down the stairs quickly, quieter than Harry ever remembered the three of them.
The Great Hall looked remarkably the same as it had done before, the house tables back in their rightful places, and the large head table reaffixed at the front of the grand room. People sat chatting at random, ignoring their house or age. Harry quickly scanned the room, searching for the telltale group of red that would signify the Weasley family. He tried desperately to ignore the stares of those in the Great Hall, he had no interest in being thanked, he merely wanted to see the people that he called his family.
He finally spotted the lot of them at the head of the Gryffindor table, all quietly immersed in their kipper and toast. He, Ron and Hermione approached quietly, and sat one after the other on the large wooden benches. Ginny looked at Harry from across the table, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks pale. She gave him a weak smile, and looked back down at her toast. They were all uncharacteristically quiet, most notably George, who seemed lost without his other half at the table. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that it would never be the same without Fred. All the same, Mrs. Weasley lived up to her nature, fussing over Harry, insisting he see Madame Pomfrey at once.
"Actually, there's something I think I need to do first," he looked down at his pocket, where both the Elder wand and phoenix feather wand were held. "There's one more thing Dumbledore would have wanted me to do." WIth this, he looked to Ron, Hermione and Ginny in turn. He no longer felt he could leave Ginny out of such important matters, she had after all, proven herself time and time again over the course of the past few months. With no hesitation, the four of them headed for the large wooden doors at the front of the castle, heading into a sunny day that felt inappropriate for the occasion.
"Harry, what is it exactly that we're doing?" Hermione seemed uncharacteristically puzzled at their sudden exit. Harry extracted the two wands from his pocket, his own dangling pitifully.
"I want to fix my wand. I think the Elder wand is my best chance, and besides, I'm the rightful owner of it now. If I return it to Dumbledore's grave, and I die in a natural course, the rightful line to the wand dies with me." The three of them stared at him, dumbfounded.
"You mean, you won't keep it? Mate, that's the most powerful wand in the world!" Ron seemed affronted by Harry's lack of concern for the wand.
"No, he's right," Ginny seemed pleased with him. "The sooner that wand is gone, the better." Hermione nodded in agreement.
Holding the broken wand in the palm of his left hand, Harry held the elder wand in his right, quietly muttering reparo over the broken wand. With a light glow, the broken wood of his wand fused together, and small red sparks flew out of the end. He smiled, this was a small joy he felt he could partake in. WIthout speaking, they moved towards the lake, where the large marble tomb could just be seen over the swell of the hill.
As they approached, they could see the brokenness of the large marble slab, the grave laying wide open. Harry held back his grief, focusing on the task at hand. With his own wand, he fused the marble back into one slab. Looking to his friends for support, he quietly and carefully placed the wand back in the hands of Dumbledore, reminding himself that, elsewhere, his spirit lived on. He closed the shroud, and the four of them closed the tomb with a brief wingardium leviosa. The four of them stood quietly for a while, staring at the place where Dumbledore rested. Finally, with reluctance, they began to make their way back up the path, towards the castle.
Ron and Hermione ahead of them, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand brazenly, and stopped him in his tracks. He looked down at the shorter girl, and couldn't help but notice the sadness displayed clearly on her face. For a moment, they just looked at one another.
"You'll tell me the full story one day, won't you?" Her brow furrowed, and she seemed concerned for him now. He nodded.
"One day soon. You deserve to know. I should have told you last year, at Dumbledore's funeral, but I was so scared, and I just, I cared too much for you to see you hurt and-" She looked amused at his rambling, and cut him off.
"It's ok, Harry. We'll get through this. Together." With a grateful smile, he pulled her into his side, and they walked back up the hill.