He was tired, more tired than he had ever been. Every time after a big fight or long battle, exhaustion began to plague him like a disease. This time, however, Harry did not mind the fatigue. In fact, it was welcomed, as if he was going to sleep after a very long day, as Dumbledore might have put it. There was now closure, he thought, as none of his friends or loved ones were in any mortal peril anymore.
When the Death Eaters fell back after the Battle, it was not the end of the Hogwarts term. Professor McGonagall, who was again acting Headmistress of the school, offered Harry, Ron, and Hermione their old beds until the summer. As they finally had nothing else to find, nowhere else to be, they accepted. Of course, they didn't have to attend any classes.
Lying down in his four-poster bed, Harry sighed heavily as Neville's snores washed over him. This was what he had missed when he was searching for the Horcruxes. With a slight ache, Harry realized that he would never go to Hogwarts again. The castle, as he had maintained many times before, was the first place where he felt he belonged, was liked, was wanted, and was not treated like some unsightly condition of skin cancer. But then again, his heart swelled when he thought of all the things that would happen after he left school.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had offered Harry a place to stay at the Burrow. He had flat-out refused at first, before Mrs. Weasley explained to him that he had no choice in the matter whatsoever. Now, however, he was glad that he was not allowed to reject the offer. In no way was he planning on living off the Weasleys for the rest of his life, but it did brighten his day to realize that for a couple of months, until he found a place of his own, he could stay at Ron's house. Kreacher, Harry's house-elf, insisted on leaving his work at the Hogwarts kitchens and accompanying his master to the Burrow and wherever else he might go.
Another thing Harry loved about his life at the moment was spending time with Ginny. That was a comfort to which nothing else could compare. And with every point of happiness, there was a drawback. In this case it was that Ginny would be at school next year and he, Harry, would not. Gathering up all his willpower, Harry pushed away the images of her beautiful face and reddish-brown locks, as he knew he would never get any sleep if he didn't. Just before he drifted off, his ears picked up faint words from the common room downstairs. Grinning to himself, Harry was glad his best friends' lives were no longer complicated by his problems. For one thing, it was a blessing to be able to talk about nothing more important than Dean Thomas being caught kissing Parvati Patil in the Divination classroom.
"And then he said it didn't matter whether or not I completed Year Seven, I'd still get any job of my fancy," Hermione said, trying and failing to hide her pleasure with the conversation she had with Ernie Macmillan the other day. She was lying down on her favorite sofa, her head resting in Ron's lap.
Ron was absent-mindedly twirling Hermione's hair with his fingers as he listened, smiling uncontrollably. It was good that they didn't have any classes. However, Hermione did feel slightly let down that she wouldn't be able to take the final exams. In fact, a few times Ron caught her revising for the Transfiguration NEWT with some Ravenclaws. He never realized how much fun he had with her, as they generally bellowed at each other over their homework. It was the homework, Ron decided, that was the reason they rowed with each other all the time. It was the one thing different between this stay at Hogwarts and all the others.
"You're not surprised at that, are you?" he asked, amused by Hermione's desire to not show pride in her intelligence. Ron gave a laugh as he saw a grin creeping up Hermione's face.
"You know me well, don't you?" she said, looking up at him. Ron looked back into her eyes, always at peace when he did. He then realized what he was doing and immediately grew bright crimson, drawing his hands away. Hermione smiled at him and sat up. "Ron, I don't think there's any need to shy away from me all the time," she said kindly, taking his hands. Why had he never noticed the spark of electricity that ran up and down his spine every time she touched him?
"Yeah, well we never really..." he trailed off, not looking her in the eye. "It's not like we actually, you know...don't we need to talk or something?" he asked, forcing himself to face her. She was still smiling, which made him feel somewhat relieved. Ron kept silent until she urged him to continue. "There's not anything specific," he said quickly, taken aback that she was waiting for him to talk. "It's just, don't we need to make it official?" he finished lamely.
"Alright," she said, amused.
Hermione leaned in, placing her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips to his. It was different from the first time they kissed. Ron felt doubts chasing each other around his head a few minutes after that. Was it just in the heat of the moment? Did she really feel the same way about him? She hadn't really said much after it, as they hadn't had time. Finding the diadem and discovering what Voldemort had been doing in the Shrieking Shack were the more pressing issues at the time. This time, however, it felt real.
Ron wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. He liked it better than Lavender's kisses, which felt forced and generally had little or no feeling in them. Kissing Hermione made him feel slightly dizzy, but in a very good way. Her hands began to explore his back as Ron leant backwards, lying down on the sofa with Hermione on top of him. He felt a little disappointed when she drew away, but needed to catch his breath as she placed a hand on his cheek. "I love you, Ron," she whispered.
"I love you too," he whispered back. The first time they had said it. Ron had always heard that sometimes it was too soon to say that. If that was so, it definitely was not the case with him. It felt long overdue. There were a couple of times he was bursting to say it, but kept it to himself for reasons best known to no-one.
Like Harry, Ron and Hermione felt glad that they could finally say aloud that Lord Voldemort couldn't mess up their lives anymore.
The weeks passed quickly, and one morning Harry woke up earlier than usual. With a jolt, he realized that it was the last day he would be spending in the castle, as the Hogwarts Express would arrive after lunch. The thought of leaving the castle forever prevented him from having a very easy sleep. Even though he was sure it meant less to them, he could hear his fellow Gryffindor, seventh-year boys struggling to fall asleep themselves.
Neville's snores would be interrupted by a snorting noise, before they stopped for a while. Apart from that, Ron's constant muttering and Dean's and Seamus' whispered conversation kept him up the better part of the night. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he surveyed himself in his nightstand mirror. The young man staring out no longer looked burdened by the weight of the world. For once, Harry saw himself as he might have been if Voldemort had never entered, and destroyed, his life. He was reminded strongly of the Mirror of Erised.
With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and busied himself getting ready. He showered, changed and put on his shoes in under thirty seconds. Wonderful, he thought dryly, now I get to wait five hours before the Hogwarts Express shows up. He headed downstairs and resolved to read a book until the train arrived to transport them away from Hogwarts for the last time.
"Oh, Harry! I didn't think anyone would be up at this time…" Hermione quickly sat up, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she had been in the armchair all night. "I fell asleep after the party," she explained, as if she had read his mind. Neville and Seamus had thrown a seventh-year leaving party in the Room of Requirement. Stifling a yawn, she sank back into her chair.
"Well, it's good that someone got some sleep last night," he said, pulling a copy of Quidditch through the Ages and began to read. Hermione too extracted a thick volume from somewhere, and they both sat in silence.
"I didn't actually get much sleep," she admitted after a while. Harry nodded in understanding.
"Yeah, Ron did come up to his bed rather late…" he said innocently, watching with amusement as Hermione's face turn red.
"Harry! We didn't…it's not like we…oh, honestly, Harry!" she stopped trying to cover her tracks when Harry refused to stop grinning. "If it's one thing boys think about more than Quidditch…" she added, annoyed. "For your information, Ron and I were talking!"
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said, laughing. He had to duck as Hermione flung her heavy book at him. It hit something with a dull thud. Hermione gave a yelp and leapt to her feet. Turning around, Harry saw that Ron had been smacked in the face with the book.
"Ron!" she cried, pushed the book away from him. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I was just joking around with Harry, and I didn't see you and…Ron…?" It was evident that Ron really wasn't paying much attention to Hermione's apologies.
"Merlin, Hermione, how did you learn to throw like that?" he asked with a slight groan, sitting up. Hermione gave a sigh of relief and helped him to his feet. The book had raised a large lump on Ron's head.
As they waited for the time when they had to go down for breakfast, more Gryffindors came down from the dormitories. Harry eventually forced Ron and Hermione to go down to the Great Hall without him. While they didn't want to leave Harry alone, they did, at the same time, want to spend some time with each other.
Sitting near the fire, Harry brooded over how much he would miss the castle. People would occasionally say hi, and Harry gave them slightly unenthusiastic replies before returning to his melancholy musings. Even Ron and Hermione couldn't understand how much the castle meant to him. To them, it was little more than a very nice school where they met each other and Harry. Of course, it meant a whole lot more to him.
"Harry?" said a concerned voice. Harry was about to wave whoever it was off before he noticed it was Ginny. She gave a slight smile at his demeanor. "Not happy to see me?" she asked, sitting down next to him and slipping her hand into his.
"No, it's not that," he said, trying to smile. She nodded, deciding not to say anything. Harry was grateful for how well she knew him. After a few minutes, they both went downstairs for breakfast together.
Both deep in thought, neither said anything to the other. People might not have thought they were going down together had Harry's arm not been around Ginny's shoulders. Even a familiar blonde-haired figure running towards them didn't bring Harry out of his reverie.
"Potter! Oi! Potter!" the voice was strangely familiar. As he turned, Harry was shocked to see Draco Malfoy standing haughtily in the corridor. He gave Ginny, whose face remained impassive, a quick nod. "I need to talk to you," he muttered, not looking either of them in the eye.
Harry nodded for Ginny to go on without him. Ginny made a face, and decided aloud that she would wait at the foot of the Grand Staircase for him. Shaking his head as he saw her back retreating down the stairs, he turned back to Malfoy, who was glaring at some point over Harry's shoulders.
"I suppose," he began, seeming to be in the midst of a big moral dilemma. "That I have you to thank for my parents not being dead and all," he said quickly.
Whatever Harry had been expecting, it wasn't this. Hadn't Malfoy and he been enemies since they first laid eyes on each other? Hadn't it been Malfoy who had repeatedly tried to sabotage Harry's Quidditch games? Hadn't Malfoy still pleaded with the Death Eaters to let him live, claiming to be on Voldemort's side, even after Harry saved his life? Before he could say a word, Malfoy continued, as if it was taking all his willpower to keep talking. "No, You-Know-Who would have killed me and my parents if he won. So…what I'm really trying to say is…" he began muttering again, so Harry had to strain slightly to hear him. "Thanks…and I'm sorry, about…you know, everything…"
Harry blinked. This was not the Draco Malfoy he remembered before leaving Hogwarts in sixth year. All the evidence, up till that point, of the boy standing in front of him, flushing a deeper red than Harry had ever seen, holding his hand out reluctantly, screamed at Harry not to take the hand. And yet, in spite of all this, he quickly shook Malfoy's hand and let go.
"No problem…Draco," Harry replied, smiling slightly smugly. Malfoy jerked his head in irritation, narrowed his eyes, and turned away without another word. Clearly, he didn't want his apology to be a sign of friendship or reconciliation.
Watching him disappear down the stairs, Harry realized why Dumbledore had extended a hand of protection and mercy towards Malfoy, even though the Slytherin had been trying to murder him all year on Voldemort's orders. It was only evil tyrants like Voldemort who didn't have a remorseful bone in their body.
Shaking his head, he followed Malfoy down the stairs and found Ginny still waiting there. Grinning, he kissed her and offered his arm to take her to the Great Hall. Ginny took it, smiling back at him. Unnoticed by either of them, a figure shrouded in shadows watched them as they went through the doors into the Great Hall. Tears rolled down fair cheeks, splashing silently to the ground.
"Harry?" Ginny said, entwining her fingers in his. "I'll go sit with my friends, shall I?" she asked, noticing Harry searching automatically for Ron and Hermione. Worried that she would feel insulted if he agreed, he immediately refused. "Oh, calm down Harry! We don't need to spend every waking minute together. But…" she added, leaning in and whispering. "If you ever abandon me without my permission, I will hunt you down and kill you." She gave him a peck on the cheek, before stepping back and smiling sweetly.
"Oh no, I would never want to get on the wrong side of someone with such fame for the Bat Bogey Hex, now would I?" Harry replied with a grin. Ginny gave his hand a squeeze and walked off to her friends with a slight skip in her step.
Staring after her, Harry sighed heavily and resumed searching for Ron and Hermione. He spotted them a few chairs away from Ginny and her friends. Neville and Seamus were sitting nearby, talking animatedly about Quidditch and gossiping about where Dean possibly was. As he drew closer, he noticed Ron feeding Hermione bits of ham and eggs.
"I could toss it into your mouth," Ron said laughing, as Hermione bit some more eggs off his fork. Hermione giggled, covering her mouth so that her food did not spray all over her boyfriend. Ron was staring so intently into Hermione's eyes that he did not notice Harry sitting down next to him.
"Oh yes, Ron, and have eggs all over my face, right?" Hermione asked laughing, she always felt giggly around Ron lately.
"You'd be beautiful either way," he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. Hermione stopped laughing, and smiled down at her breakfast, as both hers and Ron's face began turning the color of their ham.
She didn't know why things had changed, but somehow, over the course of the search for the Horcruxes, she was looking at Ron in a completely new way. It was like she had finally found meaning to the confused feelings she had been experiencing since, well, pretty much since she had met Ron. Whatever it was, Ron now made her feel light-headed in a way no boy…no…in a way no person had ever made her feel.
"Hermione, could you pass me the ketchup?" said a faraway voice that sounded like Harry's.
"Sure Harry..." she responded breathlessly, before snapping back to reality. "Harry!" she cried out, startling those nearby, who turned to see what the problem was. Ron too gave a start when he noticed Harry next to him.
Oh god, Hermione thought, embarrassed and slightly guilty. Has he been sitting there the whole time? She quickly snatched the ketchup bottle up and shoved into Harry's hand across Ron's plate. She ignored the egg yolk that her sleeve was being dipped in.
"Harry, hi, how are you?" Despite her attempts to sound nonchalant, Hermione's voice came out oddly high-pitched. As expected, Ron kept silent, but his ears turned scarlet. "Are you having a good time with Ginny? Of course, you must be. You look happy, did you sleep well…?" she went on for a bit before Harry stopped her.
"It's fine, really," he said truthfully, squirting ketchup onto his French fries. "I'm happy for you guys," he added, at which Ron looked up, apparently satisfied that Harry was not annoyed. Hermione scrutinized him slightly. "Seriously, Hermione. Just do me a favor? Remember that, even while you're staring into each other's eyes, people need ketchup."
The three of them laughed, helping themselves to more breakfast. Professor McGonagall stood up and made the final, leaving speech. Harry looked up at the teacher's table, unused to anyone but Dumbledore giving speeches. McGonagall's were a lot more curt and short. Harry wondered, as he did when Dumbledore died, if McGonagall was going to be Headmistress.
As the students prepared to leave the Great Hall, a speck of gray swooped through a high window in the Hall. Unnoticed by most, Hermione saw something familiar about it. As it drew closer, she noticed the jerky movements of the ancient owl. Tugging on Ron's shirt, she pointed up at Errol, the Weasley family's aged delivery owl. As usual, Errol crashed into Gryffindor table and knocked himself out.
"Letter from Mum," Ron explained, reading the parchment. "She's coming to pick us up from King's Cross and, ah, Percy's coming." He said his older brother's name with a slight air of contempt, which Hermione disapproved of.
"Ron, he did realize his mistake," she said, lightly stroking his arm. Ron shrugged, nodding in agreement before continuing with the letter. His eyes widened, and he quickly stowed away the letter. "Something wrong?"
"George isn't coming," he muttered. Hermione felt a sick jolt of sympathy and loss. She looked to Harry, who was staring in the opposite direction. Suddenly, he got to his feet and made to leave the Great Hall. By his slightly heaving shoulders as he half-walked, half-ran to the door, Hermione suspected that tears flowing fast. Noticing the look on her face, Ron put a comforting arm around her shoulders as Harry sped out of the Great Hall.
Wiping his tears, Harry rested his forehead against stone caste wall outside the Hall, trying to pull himself together. How could he have forgotten Fred? Hearing that George was not coming to greet them at Platform 9 ¾ suddenly brought back everything he had lost during the battle screaming back.
Guilt gnawed at Harry's heart. Voldemort had been after him, and Fred Weasley was another innocent who had tried to protect him. It was his fault, that George was devastated. For as long as he knew them, he had seen Fred and George together. Not only was his loss nothing compared to George's, he had let Fred's death escape his memory. Along with memories of Fred, Harry remembered losing people like Lupin and Tonks in the battle. What about his son, he thought sadly, Teddy? He's an orphan because of me. Harry vowed to make up for ruining the child's life, somehow. He tried to push away the nasty voice in his head that reminded him of the similar situation Voldemort had placed him in…
Ron and Hermione came out of the Great Hall, not saying anything. Ron placed a consoling hand on Harry's shoulder. Smiling weakly, Harry covered it with his own. He turned to Ron, and then to Hermione. Her eyes looked slightly red. Harry figured she too had been crying. The three of them hugged each other, going back in time to when Harry and Ron saved Hermione from a mountain troll.
They had had so much loss in their lives, and experienced so much more than seventeen-year-old witches and wizards should have. Through it all, amazingly, they had remained solid friends. As they ventured into the Wizarding world, they didn't realize that Voldemort was not the only entity that could create havoc in peaceful lives.
Author's Note: So, just for some context, I actually started this fic about 10 years ago, and originally uploaded the first chapter to MuggleNet FanFiction, before promptly forgetting about it. On a whim, I decided to dust it off and try to actually finish it, but I couldn't update it there as there's either something wrong with MuggleNet's website, or it just doesn't like me. So, here it shall go. More to the point, there may be stuff in the chapters that follow which contradict Cursed Child, the Fantastic Beasts series, or whatever J.K. Rowling has tweeted after the fact. I won't be paying much attention to any of that (partly because I don't particularly like them), so my sincere apologies if that kind of stuff is important to you. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Author's Note 2: If you're re-reading this, you may have noticed that I've combined and renamed some chapters. Sorry if that's confusing. Just think of it as a second edition published to fix some of the mistakes the author made on the first go.