"MERLIN'S BALLS, HARRY!"
"If I weren't so happy right now, I'd smack you, Ronald Weasley!"
Harry managed a small grin for his friends as he watched them run across the infirmary to him, their voices drowning out Madam Pomfrey's warnings to behave. He closed his eyes as Hermione's arms gently wrapped around him. He had missed her hugs.
"How've you been, mate?!" Harry flinched as his friend patted him none too gently on his leg. "Whoops, sorry." That time, he did get a smack.
Harry smiled and settled back into his bed. "I'm getting better. Bit sore here and there, though."
"I bet you have loads of questions!" Ron grabbed a chair from a nearby unoccupied bed and loudly pulled it over to join Hermione's before plopping heavily into it.
"I do." Harry nodded. "Hermione, can you tell me...who…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish, but he really needed to know how many of his friends are gone, now. He hadn't seen any of them visit, so he'd been afraid that no one was left.
Hermione pursed her lips in thought, reminding Harry of Professor- no, Headmistress McGonagall. He would never get used to that.
"Harry, are you sure you want to talk about this right now? You're only just recovering..."
The young man nodded in determination. He needed to know.
Resigned, Hermione began listing off names.
Professor Lupin. Tonks. Collin. Lavender. And...Fred.
Harry opened his eyes at that last one. "Fred is..." He looked over at Ron, who was frowning at his hands in his lap. "Oh Ron...I'm so sorry..."
"Me too." After a long moment of silence, he lifted his eyes to meet his friend's and smiled sadly, fresh tears marring the surface of his face. "Blimey Harry, I was sure I had gotten over this part."
Harry reached for the ginger's hand and gently squeezed, knowing that nothing he could say would possibly make it any better. "How's George doing..?" He surely took it harder than anyone, even Mrs. Weasley.
Ron didn't seem able to respond, so Hermione patted him on the back and took over. "George hasn't been in contact with us much since that day..."
"Is he alright? I mean...he's not...is he…?"
"He's alive, and he sends letters to Mrs. Weasley, but he's not who he used to be, understandably so. The last time we saw him, he wasn't smiling, and he didn't make even one joke..."
"What about the shop?"
"I've been running it." Ron finally spoke up, this time with more energy. "It's been loads of fun, Harry. You should come join me when you're better. We could probably come up with all kinds of things that students here could use! I was thinking we could start with maybe a potion to keep Mrs. Norris from seeing you! That was always our pr-"
"I would prefer you not aid my students in breaking school rules, Mister Weasley."
Ron's head whipped around, his face suddenly white as a sheet. "Right...sorry, Professor." He snuck a grin and a wink Harry's way, before standing and offering his seat to the Headmistress.
He really has grown.
McGonagall nodded her appreciation for the young man's gesture, and regally took a seat. Harry always felt he was amongst royalty when she was around. He wondered if she had been that way as a student.
"It's good to see you awake, Mister Potter." Her smile was tight lipped, but sincere. He felt her soft, frail hand take his and give it a gentle squeeze. "For a while there, I had thought..." She shook her head as if to expel any negativity. "No matter. You're here now, and you have much to catch up on."
Harry nodded. "I was wondering, Professor...er...our schooling…?"
He left the question quite unfinished, but his old Head of House knew immediately what he wished to know. "All students were tested in general knowledge that their years should know. What they lacked in, we provided summer courses. Upon their return to Hogwarts, they were tested. Those who passed," She spared a smile for Hermione on her right. "Graduated. Those who did not..." Her smile slipped as she glanced to her left at Ron.
"I had to take another year of school, Harry! Can you believe it?! It was downright embarrassing!
"Well, Mister Weasley, perhaps you have learned since to apply yourself. I do hope your children take after their mother."
This caused the two former students to blush profusely. Ron was practically a tomato, and Hermione's face was even darker than Ron's hair. Harry coughed to hide his laugh, but he still managed to receive a glare from both of his friends.
"That being said, I do look forward to more Weasleys. Perhaps without a penchant for trouble, however. Yes, that would be quite acceptable."
Harry was pretty sure she was enjoying torturing his friends, and as much as he loved seeing them wiggle under her attentions, he had more questions he needed answering before he passed out again. "Professor, what...what happened? At the battle, I mean."
His friends shot him relieved glances as the attention was brought back to him.
"What is the last thing you remember, Mister Potter?"
"Well, I remember a lot of fighting..."
Harry could remember with vivid detail what had happened up to a certain point.
Rocks and dirt filled the air from explosions caused by stray spells. He could hear screams in the distance, but apart from the soft sounds of hexes and curses as they cut through the air, it was more silent than he ever would have thought a battle to be.
Voldemort had been taunting him. Telling him that they were on the losing side. Describing what he would do to Harry and his friends once they were captured. "You would be defanged, of course. All of your wands broken, right before your eyes." He gestured regally, speaking in his usual fashion, as if he had no where else to be and all the time in the world. "And you...Harry Potter...The Boy Who Lived...You shall watch your friends die, one...by...one. Perhaps I will use the Imperius on you, so that you may feel their lives slip out of their bodies at your own hand. Yes, that would be sweet, would it not, Potter?"
His laugh had both frightened Harry and strengthened his resolve. This man had to die. Now.
But the only way for Voldemort to die…
None can live while the other survives…
Harry had to die...but how? If his magic had been the answer, it certainly would have worked by now. No, he had to do this the muggle way. It was too bad he hadn't ever thought of getting a gun. It just seemed so low tech after learning magic, he never would have thought…
"Harry?"
Harry snapped out of his revere at Hermione's touch.
"Are you alright, Mister Potter? Perhaps we shouldn't speak of this now..."
"No!" His friends shrank back at the power behind his voice. "Sorry...it's just...no. I need to know, Professor...please?"
Lips pursed, McGonagall finally nodded and acquiesced. "Very well. I'm not certain what led to your decision, exactly, but I...we all saw you charge straight at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but you were too close to the edge of the cliffs where the bridge had broken. You...fell...Mister Potter. Both of you."
Harry stared in shock, He fell off of a cliff? But then, how did he survive?
Seeing his question laid bare on his face, Hermione continued the recounting. "I covered for Ron whilst he summoned a broom and went after you. A few other people did the same...Neville and Professor Flitwick, I think."
"You were already at the bottom, mate..." Ron took over. "Your...your arms and legs...your back...it was all broken...you were broken." He took a moment to regain his composure. Harry felt so bad for his friend. He didn't know what he would have done if he had seen any of them in the same state. "Anyway, Professor Flitwick...erm...gathered you up then sent sparks up so that someone could retrieve the git's body."
"Ron!"
"Well he was a git, Hermione!" He turned back to Harry. "We took you to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey went to work fixing you. When we got you there, you were...you were..."
"I was dead…?" He had been dead?!
Ron nodded. "Yeh. But once we laid you on one of the beds, you suddenly started breathing again! It was a miracle, really! Madam Pomfrey sent us out, then, all but Neville. She had him go and fetch some ingredients. I think he was thankful for a break from the fighting, but it was nearly over by then, anyway. When we saw you again, you were put back together, but you weren't waking up. Madam Pomfrey said you'd be in a coma for some time so your body could heal, but we never thought you'd be gone for so long..."
Ron suddenly seemed very guilty and his eyes became downcast. Confused, Harry looked over at Hermione for an explanation.
"...Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!" She threw herself onto him and began crying, much to his body's dismay. He really was quite sore, but he let her get it all out before prodding her to continue. "You must understand, Harry. We couldn't come see you every day...we had to rebuild our own lives as well. We...we couldn't...we thought…"
Ah. Harry understood now. "You stopped coming. You thought I wouldn't wake up." It was not a question. His friends had abandoned him. How did he feel about that? He looked over at them. Ron was still staring at his lap in shame, and Hermione was crying into her hands. It would take some time to get over it, but..."I understand, Hermione. I'm not mad." Not exactly, but he'd be alright. They all would.
It was finally over.
