Chapter 69 - Celebration
Dumbledore led Harry through a back passage to avoid the crowds in the Entry and Great Halls. Harry was glad to see that the population of the hospital wing was thinning. Madame Pomfrey's potions and Melony's goblin remedies had been at work all day bringing people and goblins up to snuff. The Death Eaters had all been taken out to Azkaban and other secured facilities. This included Lucius Malfoy: although he had a change of heart, he had still done terrible things, and the laws were going to be observed.
Harry stopped by Bill Weasley's bed for a cheery chat. Charlie had already been released and was returning Norbert to Romania for rest and veterinary care for minor injuries, mostly cracked scales. They all laughed as Bill retold what he had heard about Hagrid's efforts to get Charlie and his co-workers to let the dragons stay at Hogwarts for a while. Even before the Feast, Madame Pomfrey had chased away the rest of the Weasleys so that Bill could recuperate. He didn't seem to mind too much, as Fleur Delacour was allowed to stay and was giving him the hero treatment. They both thanked him for healing Ron and Madame Maxime, and they all hung their heads together sadly at the thought of the many good people and goblins lost in the past year. Harry explained about Percy and they all laughed about how scarily convincing he had been in his role.
Harry went around greeting the other few students still in bed, until he came to the Creeveys. Colin was still confined to bed and Dennis was allowed to visit, so long as he didn't pester the other patients.
"Hiya, Harry," Colin called, "some battle, that, huh? Sure glad we could be in on it! Sorry I couldn't make it with you and the rest this morning: sounds like a grand adventure! Dennis has just been telling me all about it. I wish someone had taken a camera, but then cameras and basilisks don't mix, do they, Harry, don't I know that?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at Colin's enthusiasm. "So you're not upset with me?"
"About what, Harry? You only made both of us fit to be in a battle for the ages, saved Dennis's life, and got rid of Voldemort! How can anyone be mad?"
"Oh, I just felt like maybe you felt I should have healed you, too." said Harry.
"Harry, you worry too much. Not surprising, after all, you know, with all the times someone's tried to kill you, carrying the fate of the world on your shoulders, and stuff. But I wouldn't ask you to take my injuries unless it was a matter of life and death, especially now that I know you have to actually feel them. Don't get me wrong. I'm really grateful for your saving Dennis and all – I'd be heartbroken to lose my brother - but these are my injuries: you can't have 'em."
"It's not that I really want your injuries."
"Maybe not, but you're too accustomed to doing for everyone. This wasn't just your fight, though. Those people would have been doing stuff to the rest of us whether Voldemort was obsessed with you or not. That obsession allowed us to call them out where we had the upper hand, but it was our choice far more than yours to face them. We're the ones that ought to be taking care of you, but you seem to have come through pretty well."
"Well, physically, but I'm still pretty annoyed with being tricked all year. I see the need, but I was really put through the wringer with all that."
"We knew you were Harry," said Dennis, "but we couldn't come up with a better way to make the terror attacks stop and draw them into a pitched battle."
"I know. I see it, but it's not nice being put through all that."
Dennis turned his side toward Harry. "If it'll make you feel better, Harry – hit me, hard as you want! Break a bone if it helps – I'm in the best place for it!"
Harry laughed gently. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't think that's the way I need to deal with it."
"Well, we're honestly sorry for the frustration it caused you, Harry," said Colin, "but not for the results. Now as for my injuries, I need them – they're my Red Badge of Courage – ever read that one in muggle school? They're my proof that I fought bravely, too. You have plenty of stories of great adventures: I've just got this and the Battle of Gringotts, and let's face it, I spent all of the Battle of Gringott's on the roof of Madame Malkin's, safely hidden. I'll be telling grandchildren about my injuries in the Battle of the Forbidden Forest. If you take them away, it just wouldn't be the same."
"Not that I won't be doing the same," said Dennis. "After all, I was saved from sure death on the battlefield by the Great and Awesome Harry Potter."
"Oh, knock that off," said Harry, grinning.
Dennis put on a small child's voice: "Oh Granddad, tell us how you were saved by 'The Boy Who Lived'!"
Harry gave Dennis a playful slap on the head, and they laughed.
"Besides," continued Colin, "you were a mite busy, after all, saving those that wouldn't have made it. Madame Pomfrey will have me all fixed up by tomorrow, and she said I could watch the fireworks from the portico."
"That's great, then," said Harry.
"There is one thing you could do, though, Harry," bubbled Colin.
"Name it," said Harry.
Together Dennis and Colin lifted up their cameras and piped, "Pictures!" Harry grinned and agreed. He sat for pictures with Dennis, and pictures with Colin, and pictures by himself, and pictures with both Creeveys (taken by Fleur). When they had finished their rolls of film, Dennis said he'd go back to the Gryffindor dorm to develop these and get more film. Harry then made his exit and went back down to the Great Hall.
Harry barely got through the door before he was inundated with celebrants. Dumbledore was on the far side and seemed mightily amused as Harry was surrounded, his hand constantly pumped, and his cheek variously pinched or kissed, depending on the age of the witch in front of him. A few were even more familiar with him than that. It seemed like the entire Great Hall was filled shoulder to shoulder, none of them students or teachers. Nearly everyone added that they too had been awakened by severe pain at 5:20 that morning – Dumbledore must have put something about that in the letters.
After about 45 minutes of the press of people, few of whom Harry recognized, he saw Porphyrio MacMillan working his way through the crowd. Harry thought of all that Porphyrio had lost this year – his wife left a soulless shell and his only son killed; it saddened Harry greatly. Surprisingly Porphyrio was wearing mirrored sunglasses, even though no one had been required to since Harry took to the battlefield.
When Porphyrio worked his way through to Harry, he reared back and punched Harry squarely in the face, throwing Harry to the floor and starting a severe nosebleed. With all his boxing experience with Dudley, Harry could have dodged it if he had been in any way anticipating it, but he was utterly taken aback by Porphyrio's reaction.
Ripping off his shades, Porphyrio shouted in the suddenly hushed hall, "That's for you and your bloody war, Mr. Potter!"
Before Harry could even respond, Porphyrio was grabbed by a dozen wizards and witches, who began to drag him off.
"DON'T HURT HIM," shouted Harry after them. "HE'S ALREADY LOST TOO MUCH!"
Harry hung his head. The people around him tried to comfort him that it was not really his fault. Harry knew that; finally he really knew that. It was just overwhelming to see the results of the war from Porphyrio's view. Perhaps, he thought, the punch would help Porphyrio see the futility of striking out at others and help him on the road toward mending. He made a mental note to write a long letter to Porphyrio in the days to come. An older wizard handed him a large handkerchief to stanch the blood flow, as a thirtyish witch with a motherly demeanour performed a clean-up spell to remove the blood from his face and front, and then patted one cheek kindly while she kissed the other.
Soon the crowd had forgotten Porphyrio and had resumed their celebrating, as well as congratulating and thanking Harry. When Harry thought he had had as much as he could stand, Dumbledore seemed to read his mind and steered him out through the crowd. The crush was little better outside, but at least Harry could breathe fresher air. He was quickly separated from Dumbledore, who gave him a hearty and bemused wave as Harry was swept away by the crowd. Harry could move nowhere without attracting a throng like a magnet collecting iron filings. The entire grounds were filled with celebration. There were various wizard and goblin bands distributed around, with various beings dancing all around them. It was a celebration like none before
It was near 11:15 when he finally could meet up with people he knew. Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny had helped cut through the crowd to give Harry a break. Neville, he was told, had gone home early to be with his parents, who were still too disoriented from missing sixteen years to join a celebration.
"Hey, mate, we were wondering when you were going to spend a little time with your friends," enthused Ron, rosy-cheeked from celebrating.
"Well, it hasn't been my choice. I suppose I can't blame people, being rid of Voldemort and all, but sheesh, what's a guy got to do to get a break."
"Here! Have a butterbeer," said Ron, producing a bottle from his robe pockets.
"We actually were very relieved when you made it outside," said Luna.
"Missed me, didja?" said Harry with a Lockhart smile.
"Not really – you just got people off of us," teased Ginny.
"All of Hogsmeade's just as crowded as this," said Hermione. "We went down with Fred and George to get the fireworks they needed. We really weren't needed - half the school wanted a chance to see the backroom of their shop. Harry, I'm afraid they are planning something you might not be fully, erm, comfortable with."
Harry shrugged. "I know those two – the only way to stop them once they have a notion is to fight them. I'm not game for that. Oh, well, it probably won't hurt me anyway."
"Harry," said Ginny, "you also ought to know that the Daily Prophet has already come out with a special edition, all about the Battle of the Forbidden Forest and our raid on Voldemort's island. They reprinted your Rita Skeeter interview. Only this time …, Oh, I don't want to say it, but you've got to know. She's given you a new nickname – 'The Boy Who Loved'."
"Oh, just great!" said Harry sarcastically, but with a laugh. "I thought I'd got past The Boy Who Lived tag and they go and pin that on me."
Luna howled. "Oh, I missed that – it's so funny."
"You know, Luna," offered Hermione, "you probably wouldn't miss so much if you would read the paper right side up."
"And you miss things reading them your way. Harry, it'll pass."
Harry smiled. "Oh, I know. Right now they could call me a leprechaun and I wouldn't care. I can't control Skeeter or the Daily Prophet or the twins, or … an awful lot of things. And I don't want to – I'd rather just let 'em flow on by the way they will. It's right crowded out here, isn't it?"
Hermione nodded agreement. "Luckily, it's a happy crowd and very little use of magic with all these people around or the muggles here would be really spooked. My parents were feeling rather overwhelmed, so I had to park them with Hagrid and Maxime over at his cabin."
"Well, let's head over there," said Harry. "A few minutes of peace and quiet before the fireworks would be nice."
They had to pound very hard to get themselves heard above the revelry, but finally Hagrid came to the door and fairly scooped them all in. There were greetings all around, and Harry was picked up and hugged in turn by both Maxime and Hagrid.
"Harry, I've got a bone to pick with yeh," Hagrid said. "When yeh came upon me and Olympe in the Fores' las' nigh', yeh didn' tell me how dangerous or painful it was gonna be to heal 'er."
"Hagrid, over the past seven years, you've had me dealing with juvenile dragons, blast-ended skrewts, acromantulas as big as elephants, hippogriffs, a full-blooded giant and any number of other life-threatening beasts and beings. NOW you're worried about exposing me to a bit of danger?"
"Harry, it was more than a bit of danger," reminded Hagrid. "Olympe said yeh actually saw yer parents and Sirius – yeh was as close to dead as yeh can get and come back."
"'Olympe said?' Madam Maxime, what happened to secrets? Unless…? That must mean – Hey, you're getting married! Congratulations!" said Harry.
On this announcement, acknowledged with grins by both half-giants, the whole house cheered.
"Yeh're not changin' the subject that fast, Harry Potter!" broke in Hagrid after a reasonable period.
"You know I could never say no to you, Hagrid."
"Was it awful, Harry?" Hagrid said quietly.
"Honestly, Hagrid, at first it was. The pain was worse than stunners or even a well-focused cruciatus curse; but after a bit it receded and it was wonderful to see my parents and Sirius. Seeing them, though, made me realize that what was done is done. We can't live in the past, full of regrets, fretting over 'might have been.' We've just got to move on, know where we've come from, but look to the future doing what we can to make things better. Coming back was just as painful, but I didn't mind it so, because I was coming back to the people I love. It was my love for all of you that drew me back and saved me - and as it turns out, I needed to know that and some other things through that experience to defeat Voldemort."
"Well, Harry," said Hagrid, "I gotta say yer a bigger man than me to go through all that."
"And that's saying something," added Ron.
"Harry," spoke up Mr. Granger. "I need a word with you as well. When Hermione used to describe you as sort of a dangerous boy, I thought she meant you were the sort to try and get at her knickers and like that, and that she was flattered by it."
"Dad! I told you we're friends, not, uhh, … get me out of this, Harry."
"Not so hasty, Cupcake," her father continued. "Harry, I could have dealt with that – I'm no innocent about the temptations of teenagers in mixed boarding schools - but Professor Hagrid here has been filling us in on the dangers you've led my little angel into. What have you got to say for yourself?"
Harry smiled. "Well, first, I'm glad that Hagrid doesn't know the half of it."
"Harry, that's not helping!" Hermione warned.
Harry continued, grinning. "I don't remember ever twisting her arm to walk into dangers. More often I was trying to tell her to stay back, because I didn't want her to get hurt. But I've always been glad she's been on my team. I hope Hagrid's also made it clear that there is not a more resourceful and clever witch – I know he admires her as much as I do. Do you have an image of Hermione up in the castle as a damsel in distress?"
"Well, I'm not sure," said Mr. Granger. "She's my little girl after all."
The witches and wizards in Hagrid's cabin had a good laugh. "Little girl, hah!" "Dainty little princess, hee-hee."
"Now you all just stop!" whined Hermione.
"C'mon, Hermione," said Harry. "It's time your parents know what you're capable of: out to the paddock, 10-second training drills, Level 1 spells."
"Must we, Harry?"
"They should know what you're right dangerous in a set-to."
They all went out to the paddock behind Hagrid's cabin. Harry and Hermione squared off against each other. Hermione was to attack first. As soon as Ron called go, Hermione began muttering curses, and Harry muttered countercurses and blocks and jumped or apparated out of the way of others. By the time Ron stopped the spar ten seconds later, the Grangers had seen over fifteen spells cast at Harry, all deflected or avoided. Harry assured them that very few other sorcerers could have dealt with that attack. The witches and wizards in the area had watched and were cheering and agreeing with Harry.
Then it was Hermione's turn to defend. In the ten seconds of the spar, Harry hurled some two dozen minor temporary curses at her, and only the last, an Impedimenta, got through. This tripped her backwards into the mud. More cheers, some 'Ah's, with a bit of laughter as well.
"Harry, you've got me dirty," Hermione moaned.
"Until last night, Mr. Granger, there were less than a dozen sorcerers who could square off against Hermione and even hope to get anything through. Now there are two less, unless someone unpetrifies LeStrange. So I hope you can see that while Hermione is indeed a young lady (Hermione just then pushed herself up from the mud and she promptly fell face forward) – and a beautiful one at that," he added with a bemused smirk, "– she is no frail flower unable to protect herself. Let me help you, Hermione."
Harry took out his wand and levitated Hermione to the edge of the paddock. The Impedimenta had by now worn off, and Harry said a little spell to clean off the mud.
"Well that's most of it – Tonks was my teacher, so a clean-up won't be perfect."
Harry checked his watch, which reminded him it was broken, and then looked in Hagrid's window to check the clock.
"It's time to find a spot. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, you have to come with us: wizard fireworks are like nothing you have ever seen before."