By the following morning, the whole thing was over. The fear, the bloodshed, the war. Everything over, in the blink of an eye. The shrug of a shoulder. As quiet and subdued as that. For months afterwards, veterans of the war would laugh bitterly about it. All that heartache, only for the bastard to simply give up in the end. Only for a few months did some of the most jaded warriors feel as if some grand demonstration of ultra-violence, some Last Stand, some hard-won final battle, would have made more sense. Would have made it almost worth thousands upon thousands of death. But then these fighters, these casualties, these mourners, began to heal, and to rejoice that Tom Riddle had gone quietly. Because, in the end, Voldemort had burned himself into ash, smoldering with all of the failures, all of the hate, that had turned the soul of an orphaned, abandoned boy into that of a genocidal, power-obsessed, xenophobic, pathetic creature.

When the inhabitants of Hogwarts awoke to the news, they were shocked. Jubilant, some, but the staff and most of the auror trainees were cautious with their hope. The fear was in the air that Voldemort had done nothing more than a dramatic, and rather convincing, disappearing act. That he had become transient, a spirit weakened but able, at a later date, to reclaim a body, and there he would arise again, incarnate and more pissed off than ever. Just like the last time. Perhaps that was what the dark lord had intended, but then their fears were eased when Ron pointed to Harry. The scar that he had born since he was a child was gone. It, along with Severus Snape's dark mark, had faded along with Voldemort. It was truly over.

"A bit anticlimactic, wasn't it?" Remus mused, as he, Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Severus, and Harry sat around the fire in Hagrid's Hut that night, all intending to celebrate this night with sobriety. Their cups for once were filled with teas, coffees, or cocoas, according to taste. They wanted to remember every moment of this happiness, this blessed relief.

"In the best of ways," Severus answered.

"And the most unbelievable," Hermione answered. Harry looked closely at her. She had more than happiness in her eyes. Beneath it all was a pain a few years old, at last letting itself be shown. Dumbledore had told them all that afternoon that those Death Eaters that had confessed under Veritaserum to having killed, tortured, raped, or kidnapped under the orders of Tom Riddle were to be given life sentences in the new magical incarceration center Carceris. There, they would be subdued by potions, rather than Dementors. Dumbledore also announced the likelihood of Sirius Black being exonerated, with the confession of Peter Pettigrew securing him an audience with the Department of Justice in the first week of February. Hermione was right. It was all unbelievable.

"You'd think that Voldemort would have kept fighting until the end," Ron agreed. "He didn't even do his pyrotechnic show in some high-profile locale, like Diagon Alley. The most monumental spectacle in the past ten years, the '94 World Cup aside, and the only ones privy to it were a middle-aged Muggle couple from Sussex."

"Perhaps he became over-confident with his ability to cheat death," Harry suggested.

"I for one am tired of thinking about the miserable bastard," Severus mumbled into his coffee.

"You getting tired?" Harry grinned. "Ready to climb into your pjs?" Hermione and Ron both did a convincing spit take, half-drenching Remus, who was blissfully ignorant of it all as he joined in the laughter. After all, Albus had given them all hideous eveningwear at some point in their tenure at the school.

"No, I'm too curious as to what you three are planning on doing with your lives, now that you have no cause driving you towards law enforcement," Severus answered, directing his question towards the trainees who were sobering up very quickly.

"Professor Dumbledore said that any of the trainees interested in becoming Aurors will now transfer to the Ministry-run program, which will end in February, rather than March like it would have here," Hermione half-answered.

"And?" Sirius prompted.

"Well," Ron broke in, seeing the uncertainty in Hermione's face, "I know that I'm chucking it in."

"Really?" Hermione asked, genuinely surprised. Ron had always wanted to be an Auror. In fact, it was practically his dream job, next to playing professional Quidditch.

"Yes," Ron answered, smiling sheepishly at them all. Harry found that a bit ridiculous. As if any of them had anything to prove. "When I told Lavendar about last night, which, in all honesty, wasn't half as dangerous as either of us had thought, she went mental. Says…says she can't see anything out of her third eye, through all the tears," he finished up, unable to make it without breaking into a fit of laughter. The others in the room failed in the exact same way. "Seriously though, I know that we still need people to be Aurors. Evil isn't gone just because Voldemort is, but I'm almost positive that the world can survive without me looking after it. I'm getting married soon. Going to spread the Weasley gene." ("God help us," Severus sighed melodramatically, only half-sincere.) "I'll probably look for a safe desk job at the Ministry."

"I'm continuing with the program," Hermione announced. Seeing the look on both Harry's and Ron's face, she went on to explain herself. She wasn't trying to prove anything anymore. She wasn't looking to hunt down all of the Malfoys in the world, or anything so vigilante as that. "It was…fulfilling, last night," she went on. "I'm not saying that it will be a lifelong career. I'm actually thinking about studying law, thanks to you," she added, smiling at Sirius. "But I'll try to stick with this, for now. So I'll know what law really means."

"I'm sure you both will be wonderful, at whatever you do," Remus smiled, warming up all of the mugs. "Harry?"

"I'm staying here," Harry answered.

"In Britain?" Ron asked.

"At Hogwarts," Harry clarified. "The Headmaster has suggested that I continue with my education and apprenticeship under Professor Snape."

"You want to be a Potions master?" Sirius asked, a little surprised at his godson's apparent passion for the subject.

"Maybe," Harry answered, "but I'm more interested in Transfiguration, at the moment. There is a lot of research I'm looking forward to." In fact, he was already discussing the possibilities of a research grant from Transfiguration Monthly, with Minerva as a sponsor, putting his Parseltongue to use. And Severus had asked him to continue their work on improving the Wolfsbane potion, and Dumbledore had assured him quarter within the castle for as long as he wished, with the understanding that he would work with the staff in continuing his education.

"An academic then?" Hermione asked. "I can show you all of the best libraries in Southern England and Scotland," she beamed.

"Lord help me," Harry laughed.

"I'm happy you're staying," Sirius smiled, while Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"As am I, Harry," Remus added. Then all eyes turned to Severus Snape, who was idly sipping away at his coffee.

Seeing his audience, the Potions professor sighed and set his drink aside. "I suppose I'm not opposed to the idea, but I'm not keeping those bloody snakes in my rooms another day," he scowled. "You'll just have to buy yourself some bloody earmuffs. Sprout has some lovely pink ones, as a matter of fact. Dashing."

The End

A/N: Ok, unforgivably trite, sappy, maudlin ending? Couldn't be helped, I'm afraid. This story needed a nice bow at the end to prevent any requests for sequels. I mean, do you honestly want to wait months and months for updates? I think not. Seriously though, if it bothers you when you get a "happily ever after" ending, just imagine that…Minnie comes down with a flu, that Severus gets a particularly painful hangnail, that Lavendar forces Ron to wear a powder blue robe to the wedding, that Hermione has to retake the Auror test after failing the first time around, that Harry's Manic friends come back and leech off of him for months and months, that Andy wears the same foul smelling shirt for three weeks in a row because it's lucky, when really it wasn't the shirt but a mild love potion supplied by Harry that got him that date with the stripper from Bath. Yes indeed.

Thanks to all of you lovely reviewers. Sorry again for how long this story took to complete. I can only say that I hope it was worth it, in the end. For me, hearing from all of you, it was J