Thank you, MattD12027, for beta-reading this chapter. Your comments and changes have made this a better story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.
The Savior of the Wizarding World
Chapter 5 – For the Fallen
EXCLUSIVE!
HARRY
POTTER SPEAKS ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO'S FINAL MINUTES!
By Anna Conway, Wizarding Times Correspondent
(Ministry of Magic, London) In a meeting with Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour and Chief Aide to the Minister Percy Weasley, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger (for biographies of the three, see GRYFFINDOR TRIO, page 3) reported on the events surrounding the final battle with Lord You-Know-Who. Their story began two years ago with the night You-Know-Who was seen in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic by no less than former Minister Cornelius Fudge (for a full account of the events of that night, see MINISTRY OF MAGIC, page 2), continued through the sixth year of schooling for the three (see TOM RIDDLE, page 3) and their quest over the last year to find and destroy objects known to contain pieces of You-Know-Who's soul (see HORCRUXES, page 4), and ended with the defeat of You-Know-Who.
The three friends were enjoying a quiet dinner at a restaurant in Muggle London when they were transported via hidden Portkeys to the Dark Lord's lair. They found themselves surrounded by more than 50 Death Eaters, not to mention You-Know-Who himself. And to make matters even worse, they quickly discovered Ginevra Weasley, younger sister to Ronald Weasley and love interest for Harry Potter (see GINNY WEASLEY, page 3) had also been captured.
You-Know-Who put the two Weasleys and Hermione Granger under the Cruciatus curse in order to rattle Harry. He then engaged in a brief duel with Potter before having his Death Eaters disarm him. Wandless and surrounded by dozens of You-Know-Who's supporters, Harry could do nothing but watch as the Dark Lord trained his wand on the young Weasley girl and taunted Potter with the knowledge that he was about to kill her. Overcome by rage and grief, Harry performed an unfathomable feat of magic and somehow knocked out all of the Death Eaters while also summoning You-Know-Who's wand to himself. It remains unclear how he was able to accomplish this, and Harry was unable to provide any insight into his actions.
This did not deter You-Know-Who, however, as he wandlessly cast a Killing Curse at Harry. Ginevra Weasley jumped into its path, despite being bound by magical ropes, and took the curse meant for Harry. She did not die immediately and is currently in St. Mungo's, but her prognosis is not good (see GINNY WEASLEY, page 3, for more on this story). Watching the girl he loved crumple to the ground, Harry engaged You-Know-Who in a duel using the Dark Lord's own wand, and was eventually able to defeat You-Know-Who, a feat none, not even the late Albus Dumbledore, universally proclaimed to be the greatest wizard of the age, could accomplish.
Harry Potter has spent most of the last two weeks recovering from injuries sustained during the duel and asks that the public give him and his friends time to rest and recover from their dangerous and tragic ordeal. How he accomplished all the things he did may never be understood, but it is quite certain history will never forget what he did for everyone alive when he freed us all from You-Know-Who's reign of terror.
- - - - -
Harry put down the newspaper and looked up at Ron and Hermione. The three of them were, once again, spending their day studying in Ginny's hospital room. Even though it was a Saturday Hermione had insisted they spend several hours studying to make up for their trip to the Ministry yesterday.
"It's not bad," he grudgingly admitted. As much as he hated being in the newspapers, he had to admit this article really wasn't that bad. The reporter, Anna Conway, had written an unbiased, factual article. Except for the time Skeeter wrote the article for The Quibbler in his fifth year, he couldn't remember ever being featured in an article that had only reported the truth.
"It does leave out a few things, though," he added. "Like me using Avada Kedavra."
"Do you really want the whole world knowing about that?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "Not really, but I don't think I care that much, either. If everyone wants to make me out to be some sort of hero, they should know what I did."
"I think Scrimgeour prevented her from including it," Hermione said. "There isn't a single mention of it or the Wizengamot decree in any of the articles. He probably wants to avoid people finding out there may be times when they're allowed to use the Killing Curse."
"I still don't understand what made Dumbledore introduce that decree," Ron said.
"Me either," Hermione agreed.
"I don't understand how Scrimgeour didn't know about it," Harry said, avoiding the subject of Dumbledore. He still wasn't ready to talk about what he had learned. "I thought the Minister of Magic is a member of the Wizengamot."
"Oh, he is," said Hermione. "But it's usually just a formality. Fudge was the first Minister in over a hundred years to actually invoke his right to sit in on their meetings and deliberations. Scrimgeour didn't know about it because he's probably never sat in on any of them."
"He really was a power-hungry man, wasn't he?" Harry thought aloud. He spent a few seconds wondering what had happened to Fudge, because he had pretty much disappeared from the public spotlight not long after Dumbledore had died. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he flipped through the rest of the paper. "Almost the whole bloody paper is full of articles about us and our fight against Voldemort," Harry muttered.
"It's all pretty standard stuff," Hermione said, having read the paper cover to cover the moment it had arrived that morning. "The article about our search for the Horcruxes is pretty vague, it doesn't really explain what they are, but that's probably a good thing."
"Yeah," agreed Ron. "We don't need anybody getting any bright ideas about how to become immortal."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Overall, I think Anna Conway did a really nice job. She stuck to the facts and wrote several good articles. I heard it's already paying off for her; when I went to the cafeteria earlier I heard people saying that The Wizarding Times sold out its first printing in record time. They're doing an extended second printing."
"Well, if somebody has to profit from all this, at least it's not The Daily Prophet," Harry growled, not happy with the thought of people making money off his story.
"Turn to page six, Harry," Hermione said softly.
Harry flipped through the pages and stopped on page six. He found a rather large article taking up the entire page and, intrigued by the headline, he started reading.
- - - - -
Harry
Potter: The Man Behind the Fame
An
Editorial by Anna Conway
Who is Harry Potter? He's the Boy-Who-Lived. He's the boy who was somehow able to stop You-Know-Who at the age of one. He's the youngest to play Quidditch on a Hogwarts House Team in over a century. He stopped You-Know-Who from getting the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. He slew a Basilisk in his second year. He became the youngest participant in the history of the Tri-Wizard Tournament in his fourth year. He spent months telling people You-Know-Who had returned when nobody wanted to believe him in his fifth year. He was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in his sixth year. He chose to fight against You-Know-Who instead of returning to Hogwarts for his seventh year. He saved the Wizarding World from the most terrible Dark Lord we've ever known not even two weeks ago. But who is he?
For all the facts that all of us, even small children, can list about the life of Harry Potter, who is he, really? We all know a list of facts, but do we know the person behind the facts? What were his favorite classes at school? Who was his favorite professor? What does he like to eat? What is his favorite Quidditch team? What does he like to do in his spare time? How does he deal with the endless bother of reporters asking for interviews? What does he think of his fame? Does he even enjoy being famous?
Except for those few that are close to him, not one of us could answer more than one or two of those questions, and most of us probably couldn't even answer one. We all think we know Harry Potter. We see him as this image of a perfect young man with strong convictions and a desire to always help others. And while that image is probably more correct than Harry would ever admit, none of us think about the toll Harry's hard life has had on him.
Harry, along with his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, recently sat down with the Minister of Magic to tell their story about how they defeated You-Know-Who. It was not a story full of action, adventure, and glory, but one full of heartbreak and tragedy.
Two years ago Harry inadvertently led his friends into a trap set by You-Know-Who. While coming to their rescue his godfather, Sirius Black, was killed in a duel with known Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry had a faraway look to his eyes as he talked about his late godfather, and while he never came out and said it, it's quite obvious he still feels a great amount of guilt over his death, even though it certainly was not his fault.
One year later, Harry was forced to watch helplessly as Severus Snape, former Hogwarts Professor of Potions, and later Defense Against the Dark Arts, betrayed and murdered Albus Dumbledore. Harry's voice cracked as he talked about Dumbledore, and while the whole world still feels the loss of the greatest wizard of the age, do any of us truly understand Harry's pain? From Harry's account it seems Dumbledore took him under his wing and helped him come to terms with both his magical power and his role in society. We all looked up to Dumbledore, but Harry seemed to look up to him as his personal mentor. It was obvious to all present in the room that Dumbledore's death left a great hole in Harry's life.
As if that weren't bad enough, not two weeks ago Harry watched as Ginny Weasley, the girl he loves, stepped into the path of a Killing Curse meant for him. When he came to this part of his story tears appeared in his eyes, and he had to stop for several minutes to compose himself. In these moments he seemed to draw strength from the presence of his two close friends. With no words spoken between them they seemed to hold some sort of silent communication. They truly are the best of friends, and the rest of us in the room could see how lucky they are to have each other.
Once he had composed himself, Harry talked about Ginny. He talked about how they had spent several years as friends before he noticed her "in that way," to use his words. He had a sad smile on his face as he talked on and on (to the point where Minister Scrimgeour seemed to be getting annoyed) about how beautiful, nice, caring, and free-spirited she was. He told of how they had only spent a few short weeks together before he broke it off out of fear of her being hurt if You-Know-Who learned of their relationship. He talked about how they were going to get back together once the war was over.
Well, the war is over, and Harry and Ginny are together. We know Harry has been spending all his time over the past week at St. Mungo's. Speculation has been wild about what is wrong with him, with several rumors circulating that Harry was dying. Now we know the truth: Harry spends his days keeping Ginny Weasley company, for You-Know-Who's wandless Killing Curse did not kill her right away. Ginny Weasley is in a coma, slowly slipping away but expected to survive for several months, if not years. Harry sits by her side each day, his two friends keeping him company. So yes, Harry and Ginny are finally together, but not in the way they had always hoped.
Harry Potter is not the unflappable hero many of us believe him to be. He is a young man with strong convictions and a desire to help others, but he is also a human being, just like you and me. The pain reflected in his eyes and projected in his voice was almost enough to move this reporter to tears. Harry has made it clear on several occasions that he does not wish to be bothered by the press. Let us do as he asks and give him time to grieve. He has earned it.
And so we return to the original question. Who is Harry Potter? He is a young man full of courage, strength, and love who has known more pain and more suffering as a result of this war than most of us could ever imagine. He has ended one of the most terrible and brutal wars in the history of the Wizarding World. For most of us, the nightmare ended two weeks ago when word came that You-Know-Who had been defeated. But for Harry Potter, our savior, our hero, the nightmare continues. We can only hope he is able to, someday, somehow, wake up from his nightmare and enjoy the world he helped to save.
- - - - -
Harry looked up from the newspaper to find himself alone in the room with Ginny. He had been so engrossed in reading the editorial about himself that he didn't even notice Ron and Hermione leave. He got up, crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed. He was grateful to his two friends for leaving, because somehow they always seemed to know what he needed, and right now he needed a few minutes alone.
Harry's thoughts centered on the words he had just read. Never before, not even once in all of his life, had he read an article about himself that so completely captured his true feelings and state of mind. He was somewhat shocked the reporter had picked up so much just from sitting there listening to him tell his story, and even more shocked she hadn't used what she had picked up to write an article detailing his lack of emotional control and likelihood of becoming completely unhinged any day now. If he tried to think of a way to properly describe the article the best he could come up with was that it was just so… nice. Based on his experiences with the press to date, it was a completely foreign concept.
He looked down at Ginny. Harry reached down and brushed her hair out of her face. Each time he touched her part of him hoped she would feel his touch and come back to him, but, just like every other time, she only continued to lie there.
Harry brushed his hand through her hair again, and then let his hand rest on her forehead. He stared at her pale but peaceful face, silently pleading with her to open her eyes and wake him up from his nightmare.
Ginny continued to lie there.
- - - - -
Percy Weasley put down his copy of The Wizarding Times and sat back in his chair. It was Saturday, and while he technically had the weekends off he usually worked anyway. It wasn't like he had much else to do. But today he just hadn't felt like going into work.
He had just finished reading the entire newspaper for the third time that morning. If he was honest with himself he didn't know what he was searching for, but he just couldn't stop reading the articles printed about the previous two years of Harry Potter's life.
Percy stood up, picked up his now-empty glass and bowl (which had recently contained his breakfast of Quidditch-O's) and crossed the few steps between his small table and the kitchen sink. He placed his bowl in the sink and pulled out his wand to cast a Cleaning Charm, but stopped just before he cast it. Motivated by a strange urge he didn't understand, he turned on the water and began cleaning his dishes by hand.
He looked out the small window over the sink that looked out onto one of the side streets off of Diagon Alley. He didn't have much of a view; all he could see was the street below and the rather drab-looking building across the street. For the first time he could remember, Percy felt vaguely depressed by his view. His flat wasn't much, just a tiny, one-bedroom place in one of the cheaper areas of Magical London, but in the past he had always looked out this window, the only window in his flat, and felt a sense of pride. It was his, as he paid for it completely by himself, and it was only a short walk from Diagon Alley. From there it was an easy manner to Floo to work.
But today, Percy didn't feel pride. He had been in a strange mood ever since Harry had told his story yesterday at the Ministry. Percy hadn't wanted to go at all because he knew Ron would be there, and these days Percy found it easier to just avoid his family completely rather than try to deal with them. However, Minister Scrimgeour had insisted. He wanted Percy to be there to keep an official record of the meeting. Percy didn't really see why it had to be him, as anybody was capable of casting a simple recording charm on a quill, and that hadn't even ended up being necessary once they brought in a real reporter instead of one that would just use a Quick-Quotes spell. But, then again, he was the Minister's lackey, wasn't he? He always went where the Minister went, so he could see why he was expected to be at the meeting. So in the end he had gone without much of an argument.
He hadn't been expecting to hear such a personal and complex story. Although, when he really thought about it, he wasn't sure what he had been expecting. The past two years, and in particular the last 6 months, had been terrible. So many lives had been lost and so many attacks had been made that Percy had been kept extremely busy just trying help Scrimgeour keep the Ministry running. He never took the time to think about how the war was affecting others, let alone Harry Potter.
But listening to Harry, and occasionally Ron and Hermione, had opened his eyes a little. As difficult a time as he had been through as a result of this war, others had it worse. Much, much worse. And this wasn't even taking into account the whole situation with Ginny, which Percy hadn't at all sorted out in his mind yet. He had never been very close with her, but she was still family, and family was supposed to stick together, weren't they?
That last thought angered Percy. His family certainly hadn't stuck by him. All they had ever done was accuse him of all sorts of nasty things the day he had been promoted. But then again, he certainly hadn't been very nice to them either. And sometimes it seemed like there had actually been some truth in their accusations that he had only been given such an important promotion so that he could spy on his family, and through them, Dumbledore. He had managed to ignore the whole situation ever since You-Know-Who's return had indeed been confirmed and continue to convince himself his family had been wrong, but after listening to Harry tell his story yesterday, it wasn't so easy anymore.
All these thoughts swirled through Percy's head as he stared blankly out the window, the water still running and washing over the long-forgotten dishes. He found himself remembering back to the night You-Know-Who had been sighted by his former boss, the same night on which Harry's story had begun…
- - - - -
Percy sat in Minister Fudge's office, struggling to stay awake. He had been summoned nearly an hour ago, and as soon as he had arrived he had been directed to wait in Fudge's office along with a few other members of his staff. They had all been waiting there ever since, and seeing as it was the middle of the night and there had been no sign of Fudge since he had arrived, Percy was beginning to get annoyed.
Just when he was contemplating going off in search of the Minister, the door opened and Fudge walked in. He looked terrible. He had dark blue bags under his eyes and his skin was as pale as a ghost. Without a word Fudge walked over to his desk and poured himself a large shot of something which looked suspiciously like Firewhiskey. Percy noticed his hand shaking as he lifted the glass and downed the liquid in one gulp.
Fudge sat down at his desk and buried his head in his arms, his elbows propped up on the desk.
"Minister?" one of Fudge's assistants prompted.
Fudge looked up in surprise, almost as if he had forgotten they were all there. He stared at them all for a moment with wide eyes. Percy swore he saw something that resembled naked terror flash behind Fudge's eyes, but he blinked and it was gone.
"He's…" Fudge stammered, then stopped. He drew a deep, shaky breath. "He's back," he said quietly.
The others in the room looked at each other in confusion. When nobody spoke Percy took it upon himself to take control of the situation.
"Who's back, sir?"
Fudge turned his gaze to Percy and stared at him for several seconds. "You-Know-Who," he whispered, so quietly Percy and the others could barely hear him.
Immediately the room broke out into pandemonium. Everyone was shouting questions at the Minister, but Fudge made no attempt to answer them or calm everyone down. He simply sat at his desk with a far-away look in his eyes.
Percy lifted his wand and shot red and gold sparks out the end of it. "Quiet!" he shouted. The room quieted and he turned back to his boss. "Are you sure?" he asked.
The question seemed to snap Fudge out of the state he had been in ever since entering the room. "Of course I'm sure, boy," he snapped suddenly. "I saw him with my own eyes, right here in the Ministry. He was dueling with Dumbledore… in the Atrium. It appears he and Potter have been telling the truth all year." The last sentence was said with absolutely no venom or bitterness. He simply said it in a matter-of-fact way.
"I want all of you to get to work immediately," Fudge ordered. "Start calling in everyone, spread the word, but keep it within the Ministry for tonight. We'll hold a press conference tomorrow morning. Somebody set that up, too."
Nobody moved.
"What are you waiting for! MOVE!" Fudge ordered.
Percy joined the others as everyone started to file out of the room. He was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Everything he had known for the past year had been based on the absolute conviction that the Ministry was right and Dumbledore, Potter, and his family were wrong. He felt like his entire world had been turned upside down. Just as he was about to leave the office Fudge called out to him.
"Weasley! Stay behind a minute."
The use of his real name, instead of Weatherby, pulled Percy out of his daze enough for him to register what Fudge had just said. He couldn't ever remember Fudge actually getting his name right before. He stopped while the others left the office.
"Close the door and sit down," Fudge said once the others had left.
Percy did as he was told and sat down in a chair in front of the Minister's desk. Fudge let out a heavy sigh. He poured himself another drink and then looked at Percy. "Drink?" he said, gesturing to the bottle sitting on his desk. Percy shook his head to decline and Fudge simply shrugged before sipping from his glass.
Fudge regarded him for a moment from behind his desk before speaking. "I wanted to thank you, Percy," he said.
Percy blinked in surprise. Not only had Fudge gotten his last name right, but he was now even using his first name. "Thank me, sir?" he asked.
Fudge nodded. "I know about the split between you and the rest of your family," he said. "I know their loyalty to Dumbledore and your loyalty to the Ministry caused a disagreement which eventually led to you cutting off all ties with them. I just wanted to thank you for the loyalty you've shown. I don't know where I would be without you, because you have been a great asset this past year."
Percy looked down at his feet, unable to meet the gaze of Fudge. "Thank you, sir," he said, pleased at receiving such praise while also conflicted over his thoughts on his family. "But…" he trailed off, unsure how to express his thoughts.
"Yes?" Fudge asked.
Percy remained silent.
"Go on, Percy, you can say whatever it was you were about to say. I won't be angry with you," Fudge prompted.
Percy continued to stare at the floor. "It's just that… well, they were right, weren't they? All this time we've been trying to discredit Dumbledore and Potter, and they were right all along? I separated myself from my family because I believed they were helping to spread lies, but all along, they were the ones telling the truth!" Percy looked up to meet Fudge's gaze as he finished speaking.
Fudge sighed, and took another sip of his drink. "Yes, Percy, it looks like they were telling the truth about You-Know-Who," he admitted, looking exhausted. "But," he added, his features hardening, "it's not quite that simple."
"Sir?"
"Dumbledore leads a secret organization called 'The Order of the Phoenix,'" Fudge said. "I'm not sure he's aware I know of its existence, but I am. It supposedly exists to fight against You-Know-Who, but it operates outside the law. Instead of trying to work with the Ministry and benefit from our combined resources, Dumbledore tries to work around us. He expected full cooperation from me and yet he never extended the same courtesy to me.
"And, unfortunately, that is not all. A rather large duel took place tonight in the Department of Mysteries."
Percy gasped at the thought of anyone gaining access to the top-secret Department.
"I don't yet have all the details, but somehow Potter and several of his friends were able to gain access to the Department of Mysteries because they believed You-Know-Who to be there. He wasn't, but several of his Death Eaters were, and a duel broke out. It involved a prophecy as well; a prophecy concerning both Potter and You-Know-Who and made to Dumbledore. It is rumored to contain vital information on how You-Know-Who can be defeated.
"Anyway, the duel downstairs somehow moved upstairs to the Atrium, at which point You-Know-Who and Dumbledore engaged in a duel. I witnessed the tail end of it myself, as a matter of fact. After it was over and You-Know-Who fled, Dumbledore refused to share any of his knowledge regarding the prophecy with me, yet he made several statements expressing his desire for me to begin fully cooperating with him.
"Percy, I don't know what Dumbledore and his followers are playing at, but they clearly aren't telling us the whole truth. There is far more going on here than we know about, and I don't like the feel of any of it."
Percy sat quietly for a few seconds before speaking. "Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked. "I mean, not that I don't appreciate it, because I do. But why tell me?"
"Because whatever Dumbledore is up to, your family is involved. We believe your parents and older brothers to be important members of his Order."
Percy absorbed this new information, feeling a little of the anger he usually felt towards his family creeping back in. They might have been telling the truth about You-Know-Who, but it sounded like they had still chosen the wrong side, the side that continued to keep secrets and hide its true agenda.
"What are you asking of me?" Percy asked. "Are you asking me to go back to them, so that I can monitor them and find out what they're up to?"
Fudge smiled. "No, Percy. That is not something I would ask of you. I just thought you should know the full truth of the situation, given how heavily involved your family is."
Percy sat and thought for several seconds before nodding and standing up. "Thank you, sir, for being so candid with me. I really should get to work now. It's going to get very busy around here."
Fudge nodded. "Of course, my boy, of course. And you're welcome. If you need anything, anything at all, you come find me." He smiled at Percy.
Percy acknowledged the offer with a half-wave and left Fudge's office.
- - - - -
Percy turned off the water that was still flowing into the sink, and looked back out the window. With the knowledge he had gained from listening to Harry speak yesterday, things seemed much clearer now. As soon as Fudge had realized Percy might want to try to make things right with his family, he had stepped in and said just enough for Percy to think better of it. Fudge knew how much of a stickler he was for the rules, and all it took was a few comments about his family being wrapped up in some mysterious Order that operated outside of the law while also being involved in some mysterious plot to withhold crucial information from the Ministry.
He thought about the last question he had asked Fudge. It was less than a week later that Fudge began to come under intense pressure to resign, but with clarity of hindsight, Percy had no doubt Fudge would have eventually asked him to go back and spy on his family had he remained in office. He would have let enough time pass so Percy never made the connection that it had been Fudge's goal all along, but he would have done it. Of that Percy was certain. He had spent enough time around the Minister to know how manipulative he could be when the need arose. Why Percy hadn't seen it when those manipulations had been directed at himself he just couldn't understand. And to think, he had actually admired Fudge's "political prowess," which is what he had thought of it as at the time!
Percy turned around and let his eyes roam over his small, utilitarian apartment. Before that night in the Ministry his life seemed to have a purpose. After that night, despite a nagging feeling somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he was still able to come up with reasons to get up and go about his business each morning. But now, after finally learning the complete story, he was no longer convinced his lonely life meant something. He had lost his family. He had even managed to lose Penelope. For the first time in more than two years he found himself unable to answer whether or not it had all been worth it.
- - - - -
Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the next several days continuing the same routine they had developed the week before. They spent their days at St. Mungo's, keeping Ginny company while studying for their NEWTS, and their evenings at their flat in Muggle London. Depending on their individual schedules, the rest of the Weasley family would also stop in at St. Mungo's to visit Ginny, and Bill and Charlie (and sometimes Fleur) stayed with her at night so that she was never alone. It was the Wednesday the week after meeting with Scrimgeour that an unexpected owl arrived.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were quietly studying at the table in Ginny's room, and Mrs. Weasley sat next to her bed, knitting. Ron reached down into his bag and felt around with his hand. After a few seconds he frowned and looked down and picked up his bag. His head disappeared inside it as he rooted around for a few more seconds before putting it back down with a sigh.
"I left my seventh year Transfigurations textbook at home," he said. "Can I borrow one of yours?"
Harry started to reach down to his own bag when Mrs. Weasley spoke up.
"Home," she said. "That reminds me, when are you three going to finally tell us where you've been living? I should have asked before now, but with everything else…" she trailed off, feeling guilty for going more than a week without asking them where they were living. She knew she had been caught up in her own grief over Ginny's condition, but that was no excuse to stop being a good mother.
"Oh," said Ron. "The three of us got a flat in Muggle London. We figured it would be one of the easiest places to hide."
"Muggle London," Mrs. Weasley repeated softly. "How did you manage that? You don't know the first thing about Muggles!"
"Harry does," Ron countered, "And Hermione certainly does. It's not so bad, really. We don't usually go out into the city that much, and when we do, one of them is always with me. It's actually been kind of fun. I think I'm starting to understand ekeltricity! And Muggles have this thing called a telly…"
Ron broke off and looked at his mum for a minute. "What?" he asked. He had noticed the look on her face that meant she had something she wanted to say. Something he wouldn't like.
"I think it was a good idea to live there last year, because nobody would have thought to look for you there. But when are you moving home?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
Ron just looked at her. "I'm not," he said, bracing himself for the explosion.
It never came. Instead, Mrs. Weasley let out a great sigh and looked down at Ginny. The room was silent for nearly a minute before she spoke again, still looking down at her daughter. "I had a feeling you would say that," she said softly. "But I had to ask."
Ron glanced at his friends. Hermione was biting her lip and looking like she was using every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from adding her opinion to the conversation. Harry was looking down at his book, pretending to be engrossed in his studies but really just trying to stay out of any potential arguments. Without a word Ron got up and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to his mother.
"Mum, you have to understand, it's not that I don't like the Burrow. In a way it'll always be home. But I need my own space," Ron said. "And besides, I rather like living with my friends," he added, casting a quick smile at Harry and Hermione.
Mrs. Weasley didn't respond right away, so Ron continued speaking.
"Mum? I really want this to be all right with you."
"You're all gone," she said. "You've all moved on…"
"Isn't Charlie living at home?" Ron asked, his face twisted in confusion.
Mrs. Weasley looked up at her son. "Oh, yes, for now. But he'll leave eventually. I can see it in his eyes. He's staying around for now because we all need to be together, but it will only be a matter of time before he goes off back to Romania—or somewhere else. He never was one to stay in one place…"
Ron looked over at his friends, silently pleading with them to help him out. He was used to dealing with a mother who exploded, screamed for a short while, and then got over whatever it was that was bothering her. He had no idea how to deal with the way his mother was currently acting.
Hermione noticed the look. "Mrs. Weasley, your children haven't forgotten you, and I seriously doubt they ever will. Bill moved back to England after spending several years in Egypt, the Twins surely must stop by at least once a week just for the sake of general annoyance, and Ron will visit you each time he's feeling hungry," she said. "And knowing Ron," Hermione added with a smile, "that will be at least four times a day."
Mrs. Weasley looked up at Hermione. "I know, dear, don't mind me. I'm just…" she trailed off, not exactly sure what she was.
"My parents are coming to dinner Friday night to see our flat," Hermione said. "Why don't you and Mr. Weasley come also?"
"I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You wouldn't be," Hermione protested. "And besides, I'm sure Mr. Weasley would just love to get his hands on all of the Muggle devices we have there."
Mrs. Weasley smiled faintly. "Yes, I'm sure he would. If you're sure…" she trailed off, looking at Hermione.
"We're sure, Mum," Ron answered for Hermione.
"Well, then we'll be there," Mrs. Weasley said. "I just hope Arthur doesn't try to take apart-"
She never got a chance to finish her sentence, for at that moment a brown barn owl swooped in through the open window carrying several letters. It landed on the table next to Harry and held out its leg expectantly. Harry looked at it for a second before untying three envelopes from its leg. He looked at them and saw one addressed to him, one to Hermione, and one to Ron in tidy, compact handwriting. He handed Hermione her letter, tossed Ron's to him from across the room, and opened his own.
Dear Mr. Potter,
As you may be aware, the 1012th Annual Hogwarts Commencement Ceremony will be taking place this Saturday. On behalf of the entire staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I extend to you a formal invitation to attend the ceremony. Please inform me if you plan to attend via a return owl at your earliest convenience so that an accurate count of attendees may be determined.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry
p.s. Harry, I know that you and I have had our difficulties over the past year, but I ask you to please attend commencement this weekend. There are a few things that need to be taken care of, and I also wish to speak to you regarding a certain matter.
Harry looked up from his letter. "I've been invited to attend Hogwarts' commencement this weekend," he said.
"Me too," Ron said.
"So have I!" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, this is perfect! I was so disappointed that we wouldn't be able to go since we didn't finish school this year. It's a private ceremony; if you're not related to somebody graduating or personally invited by a professor you can't go. This is wonderful!"
"But why would McGonagall invite us?" Harry asked. "And she said in my letter there were a few things that needed to be taken care of, and also that she wanted to speak with me regarding a certain matter, although she doesn't say what that is."
Ron frowned. "I don't know, she didn't say that in mine," he said. He looked back down at his letter again. "She did tell me my family was also invited, though."
Hermione nodded. "Mine too." She looked at Harry. "You don't have any idea why she would want to speak with you?"
Harry shrugged and shook his head. "No."
"Well, I guess you'll just have to find out on Saturday," said Mrs. Weasley, who had remained silent up until that point.
Harry looked at her, and then at Hermione. He could tell from one look at her face how excited she was about this. He turned and looked at Ron, who was still sitting on the bed next to his Mum. Ron looked back at him and shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess we will," Harry answered. He noticed the owl that had delivered their letters was now perched on the windowsill, casting an imperious gaze over the room. "It looks like an immediate response is expected," he said with a gesture towards the owl. He took a blank piece of parchment from a stack Hermione had brought with her and scribbled a short note saying all three of them, along with their families, would attend. Well, at least those who have families, his mind silently added.
Just as he finished writing the letter the owl flew over to the table in a flutter of wings. "Aren't you a smart bird," he said softly as he tied the letter to the owl's leg. With a quiet hoot of agreement the owl took off and soared out the window, beginning its journey back to Hogwarts.
- - - - -
Harry stared at the three large rings in the distance, trying to ignore the stares he kept catching from the people sitting around him. Like Ron and the entire Weasley family (except for Percy and Ginny), and Hermione and her parents, and a few hundred other witches and wizards, Harry was sitting in a chair on the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, watching the commencement ceremony take place.
Harry had known the ceremony was going to be boring, but he had no idea just how long it was going to be. McGonagall had kicked it off with a few introductory remarks. Following that, the Head Girl and Head Boy, both Ravenclaw students Harry only vaguely recognized, each delivered rather long-winded speeches. Scrimgeour had then given a commencement address lasting nearly an hour, and yet in all that time he hadn't really said anything beyond mindless political catchphrases. And then a series of awards had been given out. Harry had felt terrible when he saw the disappointed look on Hermione's face as McGonagall announced another Ravenclaw Harry didn't recognize as the member of their class to graduate with the highest grades. He was sure Hermione would have gotten that award if she had stayed. And now they were announcing each name and handing out rolls of parchment that Harry surmised contained a Hogwarts degree.
Giving up on the Quidditch goal hoop as a source of entertainment, Harry looked around the crowd. He caught more than a few people staring at him only to look away quickly when they noticed he had spotted them. He cursed under his breath, but apparently it was loud enough for Hermione to hear him. She elbowed him and cast him a disapproving glare before turning her attention back to McGonagall, who had apparently just reached the letter L. Harry spent the next minute silently wondering if he could just hide from the public for the rest of his life.
"Neville Longbottom."
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to the stage. Neville, looking slightly taller and a bit older than Harry remembered, walked across the stage. He took the parchment from McGonagall and shook her hand. He then moved down the line, shaking hands with several Hogwarts professors, as well as Minister Scrimgeour. Reaching the end of the line he turned and looked out over the crowd for a moment before leaving the stage. In that moment, Harry noticed a look on Neville's face he had never seen before. He looked confident.
For the next half hour Harry zoned in and out of reality, tuning in to watch when somebody he knew walked across the stage but otherwise just sitting and thinking about absolutely nothing. Finally, after Blaise Zabini walked across the stage to receive his degree, the long ceremony had ended.
Or at least Harry had hoped so. But after the applause for the recent graduates had died down, McGonagall once again approached the podium. Harry looked down at his program and frowned when he realized they still had the "Special Awards" section of the program to get through. More bloody awards? Didn't they already give out awards? He thought bitterly to himself.
"Congratulations once again to our newest graduates," McGonagall said as she began speaking. "Each and every one of you has learned enough to be successful in this world, and I wish you all the best." She stopped and smiled as another round of applause broke out, and when it died down she continued speaking in a more somber tone.
"This last year has not been an easy one," she began. A chill suddenly settled over the large crowd despite the warm sun shining down on them all. "Albus Dumbledore ran this school for more than a generation, and it wasn't until he was gone that I fully realized how much all of us had come to depend on his eternal optimism and wisdom in the face of all the great uncertainties of life. He was our headmaster, our professor, and…" she stopped as her voice cracked, and then finished her sentence a second later. "And he was my friend."
Harry was now paying attention to each word being spoken. He hadn't been expecting anything about Dumbledore, and it had caught him off guard. He had never really dealt with the pain over his mentor's death; he had simply pushed it aside in order to complete what he and Dumbledore had started. He supposed he should have been expecting something, considering this was the first commencement ceremony to be held since that night on the Astronomy Tower, but he just hadn't thought about it.
"I've thought long and hard about the best way to honor him," McGonagall continued. "Albus didn't care about awards—he had received so many in his lifetime that he hung them all on the wall next to his loo. He told me once that he put them there because anyone who was given that many awards needed to find some way to retain a humble perspective, and that nothing was more humbling than the sounds one's body makes in that room." There was a faint red blush on her cheeks as she said this, but it had the desired effect as the crowd laughed. It was exactly what Dumbledore would have wanted.
"What you all just did—your laughter—that is the best way we can honor his memory. Albus had an uncanny ability to see the humor in any situation, and he taught us all how important a laugh and a kind smile can be. But there is one other thing we can all do. Albus had a soft spot in his heart for the school song, and he loved hearing all of his students singing it each fall to start off the New Year. He didn't call for it in the last few years of his life because he didn't feel it was appropriate with the darkening times, but let us all stand and sing it." McGonagall pointed her wand to the air in front of her, and a second later golden words appeared in the air.
"Here are the words. There is an official tune for them, but Albus always preferred to let each student pick their own tune and sing it at their own pace. So let us all do that one last time. For Albus."
The crowd burst out in song, each one of them singing to a different tune and at a different speed. Harry stood among the crowd and took it all in, not actually singing himself. Listening to the chaos that resulted from so many voices each singing something different and thinking about Professor Dumbledore, Harry felt a small grin form on his face despite the sadness he felt. It was perfect.
The noise died down as people began to finish their rendition, and finally there were just two voices left. The small grin on Harry's face blossomed into a full smile as he turned to look at the only two people still singing. Sitting a few chairs away from him, Fred and George Weasley were just finishing the final lines in an overly cheerful, loud, show-tune style of singing. As they reached the final line they each stood up on their chairs, lifted their arms, looked skyward, and belted out each word as if their life depended on it.
Finally they finished and sat down, ignoring the glares their mother was shooting them. The rest of the Weasleys were shaking their heads at the antics of the Twins, Hermione was glaring at them in a similar manner to Mrs. Weasley, and Harry was just smiling broadly. He caught their eyes and nodded at them before turning back to McGonagall.
He saw her casually a wipe a tear from her eye before speaking once again. "Thank you, that was wonderful. I'm sure Albus would have loved that. Especially the ending," she added with a quick glance in the general directions of Fred and George.
"There is one more matter to be addressed before this ceremony comes to a close," she continued. Harry resisted the urge to groan. Despite the fact that he had enjoyed the tribute to Dumbledore he still wanted to leave. The stares from those around him weren't really dying down any.
"Will Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger please come up onto the stage?" McGonagall asked.
Harry froze. He stared at McGonagall, desperately hoping he had heard her wrong. This was the absolute last thing he wanted. His mind was searching for ways to suddenly disappear when Hermione nudged his shoulder. She and Ron were already standing.
"Come on, Harry," she said.
He frowned at them. "Did you know about this?" he demanded.
Ron shook his head and leaned in close. "No," he whispered. "But come on, get up. Everybody's staring at us."
Harry looked around and realized Ron was right. He had been annoyed with the occasional person staring at him before, but now practically the entire crowd was looking in their direction, with many of them twisting around in their seats to get a better view.
Harry sighed and stood up. He realized there wasn't going to be an easy way out of this, so he decided to just go with Ron and Hermione and see what McGonagall was up to. The quicker he got up there the quicker he could leave and get away from everybody.
He followed Ron and Hermione as they worked their way up through the rows of chairs. They reached the stage and climbed up the three steps set off to one side. They walked across the stage and stood a few feet away from McGonagall. Hermione and Ron both had questioning looks on their faces while Harry was simply trying to prevent a scowl from taking over his own face. McGonagall just smiled faintly at them before turning back to the crowd.
"I have a few more awards to hand out," she said. Harry felt a sudden urge to pull out his wand and Disapparate, and probably would have done so if Hermione hadn't discretely placed her hand on his arm. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he remembered he wouldn't have been able to if he tried due to all the wards protecting Hogwarts.
"A few of you may have noticed that one of our annual awards was not handed out earlier. Unlike all of the other awards, which are selected by the staff, this is an award voted on by the students." McGonagall reached down and pulled a small black box out from under the podium. "Each year the students select the member of that year's graduating class who they believe to be the best Quidditch player. This year's recipient of the Quidditch Excellence Award is Harry Potter."
Harry stared dumbly at McGonagall, ignoring the roar of applause coming from the crowd. She motioned for him to come stand beside her and he did without even really thinking. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "You deserve this, Mr. Potter. And before you go thinking this is only because of your recent defeat of You-Know-Who, you should know that the voting was conducted last December. Even though you weren't here this year, your peers felt you deserved this award. Please accept it."
Harry wasn't sure what to think. He didn't really want the award, and he didn't even think it was fair considering he hadn't stayed for his last year of school. But he just nodded weakly and accepted the award. McGonagall seemed to notice his state of mind because she didn't ask him to say anything to the crowd, she simply handed him the box and let him take a step back to stand beside his friends.
When the applause died down she continued speaking. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione left school this year to continue something Harry and Professor Dumbledore started last year, as you all know from the articles published earlier this week. They gave up the last year of their schooling in order to work towards ending the war, and because of that none of them were able to earn degrees like the rest of their classmates. After conferring with the Hogwarts Board of Governors, we have decided to do something about that.
"Hermione Granger, please come forward." Hermione stepped forward, looking confused. McGonagall reached down and pulled out a rolled up parchment. "Miss Granger, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. Not just for your recent actions, but for your unwavering loyalty and service to this school. You are one of the best students this school has ever seen, and this is the least we can do to repay you for your service. Congratulations, Miss Granger." She smiled as she held out the degree to her favorite student. Hermione took it, looking like she was about to burst into tears.
A few people began to applaud, but McGonagall held up her hand and continued speaking. "Ronald Weasley, please come forward." Ron did as he was told as McGonagall produced another rolled up parchment. "Mr. Weasley, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. You showed this school the true meaning of words such as loyalty and friendship. You played the best game of chess we have ever seen and you faced your greatest fear, all before your third year even began," she said, referring to the giant chess game in his first year and Aragog in his second. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley." She handed him the parchment and took a step back, leaving the two of them standing at the podium.
Ron looked at Hermione. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected any of this, and he didn't trust his mind enough to try to say anything. He'd probably just end up blubbering something unintelligible and make himself look like a giant prat. He motioned for Hermione to go ahead and say something since it seemed to be expected. Even though she was obviously trying desperately hard to keep from crying he had no doubt she would be able to handle the whole public speaking thing much better than he would.
Hermione stepped forward and looked out over the crowd. She was embarrassed but also very pleased at the praise McGonagall had given her, but she couldn't help feeling like they didn't quite deserve the degrees they were now holding. They hadn't really finished the work to earn them after all.
"We're going to earn these," she said, holding up the parchment clutched in her hand. "Ron, Harry, and I are all going to study and take our NEWTS next year. We're going to earn these," she insisted. She swore to herself that she would see that her words came true.
"You already have!" somebody in the crowd shouted out.
Hermione blushed. She thought about protesting but decided not to, nodding instead. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
Professor McGonagall began to applaud behind her, and soon the crowd joined in. Hermione backed away from the podium and stood next to Ron, still embarrassed by all the attention. From the redness of Ron's face she could tell he was just as embarrassed. Without really thinking about it she took his hand in her own, and the two of them stood there and tried to fight down their blushes as the crowd applauded for both of them. She thought she made out the very faint sound of a wolf whistle coming from the general direction of where the Twins were sitting but she just ignored it and enjoyed the moment.
After a minute McGonagall stepped forward. The applause quickly settled down and she began to speak again. "Harry Potter, please come forward." Harry had been expecting this even though he was hoping she would just forget about him. He walked forward as Ron and Hermione took a step back.
"Mr. Potter, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. It was also my original intention to present you with an Award for Special Services to the School, but after discussing the matter with the Board of Governors I've decided something else will be more appropriate." Harry didn't like the sound of that but said nothing.
"In your first year you became the youngest student in over a century to play on a Hogwarts Quidditch team. You, along with Mr. Weasley, fought a giant troll in order to save Ms. Granger's life. You took it upon yourself to protect the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who, pressing onward even when your friends could not. If not for you, the stone would have most likely fallen into his hands.
"In your second year you saved the school from being forced to close by finding the Chamber of Secrets and killing the giant basilisk that was responsible for petrifying several of our students. In the process you also saved Ginny Weasley's life.
"In your third year you learned how to conjure a Patronus, one of the most difficult charms in existence. You used that knowledge to fight off several dozen Dementors, and in the process you, along with Ms. Granger, saved an innocent man from the terrible fate of being kissed by a Dementor.
"In your fourth year you succeeded in a tournament no student your age should have been able to succeed in. You out-flew a dragon, you jeopardized your chance to win the tournament in order to save those you believed to be in danger, and you navigated a difficult maze. You then were forced to watch as You-Know-Who was reborn. You dueled against him and managed to escape with not only your life, but also the body of a fallen schoolmate.
"In your fifth year, you endured great ridicule by the general public but never wavered from your stance that You-Know-Who had returned. You led a secret Defense Association when it became obvious your instructor was incapable of preparing you for your exams, and your instruction resulted in some of the highest OWL scores in Defense Against the Dark Arts that Hogwarts has ever seen.
"That same year, you also saved Arthur Weasley's life through your quick actions. You attempted to save your Godfather when you thought he was in danger, and when it became apparent that you led your friends into a trap, your skills with a wand allowed them all to come home safely.
"In your sixth year you served your house and your school by accepting the position of Quidditch Captain. You also saved Ron Weasley from a poison with your quick actions. You worked with Professor Dumbledore to learn more about You-Know-Who's past and eventually discovered the truth behind his near-immortality. You accompanied him, despite great risk to yourself, on a mission designed to combat this.
"In what should have been your seventh year, you instead continued the work begun by yourself and Professor Dumbledore. You took the burden on yourself to finish what the two of you had started, sacrificing your final year of schooling and whatever little remained of your childhood in the process. And two weeks ago, you rid the world of You-Know-Who once and for all."
Harry was staring at his feet. He didn't trust himself to look anywhere else, and concentrating on his shoelaces was the only thing that seemed to be keeping him from blurting out what he really wanted to say.
"In the face of all that," McGonagall continued, "an Award for Special Services to the School just doesn't seem to be enough." She reached down and pulled two things out from under the podium. One of them was a rolled-up parchment, no doubt his honorary degree. The other was a small wooden plaque.
"So instead we have created a new award. This award will be given out each year to the graduating student who the staff feels gave the most of himself or herself to both Hogwarts and the Wizarding World in general."
McGonagall turned away from the crowd and looked Harry in the eye. "Mr. Potter, I am pleased to announce that you are the first recipient of the Harry James Potter Award for Service to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Congratulations, Harry."
The crowd remained deathly silent. A small part of Harry's mind registered this as odd since he didn't realize just how well known his dislike for the public spotlight was. They were all waiting to see how he reacted to this. But he ignored the small part of himself that noticed this because the rest of him was now openly scowling at McGonagall.
She doesn't understand… I don't deserve this! Every bloody thing she just mentioned, I either had help or was lucky in all of them! WHY can't people understand that!
He was strongly tempted to just walk off the stage when an image of Ginny came into his mind. Here he was, being praised and given all sorts of awards while she continued to lie silently in a bed at St. Mungo's. But instead of angering him further the mental image actually soothed him. He knew exactly how to handle these awards now.
He stepped forward and took the parchment and the plaque from McGonagall's hands, returning her smile with a slight nod. He set them down on the podium and stared out over the crowd. They were all looking at him expectantly, wondering what he was going to say. It wasn't everyday most of them got to hear Harry Potter speak, after all.
"I will accept these awards, but not for myself," Harry said. "Ginny Weasley is lying in a hospital bed at this very moment, and the Healers don't seem very optimistic that she will ever wake up. Professor Dumbledore rests for all of eternity in a tomb not very far from here, because he was killed by one of his most trusted colleagues. Nymphadora Tonks, an Auror and member of Professor Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, was killed last fall while defending Hogsmeade from a Death Eater attack. Sirius Black spent twelve years in prison for a crime he did not commit, and then spent nearly three years hiding after he escaped. A Death Eater killed him before he could truly enjoy his freedom. Cedric Diggory died because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"And these are only a few people. So many people died in this war, not to mention the countless Muggles that most of us never even think about. I will accept this award for each and every one of them, for those who had to die so that all of us could live. They are the real heroes in all of this, not me. Honor them. Don't honor me."
The silence was overwhelming, broken only be a few quiet sniffles from those for whom Harry's words had hit a little too close to home. Suddenly a voice shouted out from the back.
"For the fallen!"
Harry nodded. "For the fallen," he repeated, his voice magically amplified since he was still standing at the podium.
A few people began to applaud. It started out quiet, but quickly grew in volume, as it spread through the crowd likes waves through water. Soon the Quidditch Pitch was shaking with the roar of the crowd. People began to stand up, and once it started that spread as well. Within a minute every person in attendance was on his or her feet.
Harry looked out over the crowd. He was too overcome with emotion to even put together a coherent thought. He began to applaud as well, joining in with the deafening roar of the crowd.
"For the fallen," he whispered.
Author's Notes:
Another chapter complete. This chapter turned out very differently from what I imagined when I first started thinking about it, but I think I'm happy with the way it came out. There was supposed to be a conversation between Harry and McGonagall that directly relates to the only real plot my story will have (as opposed to just a general exploration of how they all move on from the war), but ending it where I did seemed to work out for the best. The conversation will show up in the next chapter.
I've made pretty extensive use of flashbacks so far in my story. There will be another one in the next chapter, but after that they won't be quite so common. I've been using them primarily to fill in some of the gaps between the end of book six and the beginning of this story that are important for future events in the story, but as the focus of the story begins to shift away from filling in the past and actually getting on with life, they will be less common.
Also on that note, time will begin to pass much more rapidly. This story spans several years, and, with a few exceptions, not much happens in the next year. My general trend will be to focus in on one month, week, day, or even hour for several chapters at a time, and then fast-forward over the time in between where nothing important happens. So don't be surprised if a few months suddenly pass by in a few sentences!
I thank each one of you who has left a review. Feedback, even negative feedback, is the greatest gift you can give to a writer.
Please review!