"Harry?" Luna asked, "Do you think everyone's afterlife is the same?"

"No, I suppose not. Why?"

"Well, you were there, and you opted not to 'go on' as you put it. Well, I mean to find out," Luna answered.

"Er, how are you going to do that?" Harry asked.

"I've been thinking about it," Luna replied, "and I have been wondering about the arch with the veil at the Department of Mysteries at the ministry of magic. I heard the voices, Harry. My mother is there."

"Sirius," Harry thought. "I'll try to help you," he suddenly responded. "How do you mean to go about it?"

"Well, first we need access to the veil," Luna answered excitedly.

"Hmm," Harry said, "Being the hero of the wizarding world may come in handy after all. I wonder if Kingsley could get me into the department of mysteries. I just may be able to pull that off."

"Oh, I know you can, Harry. Then we'll need to do some tests. I'm going to the school library and see if there's anything there about the veil." With that, Luna jumped up and skipped toward the castle.

"Harry, remember the first thing I said to you in the castle?" Ginny said.

"Don't worry, Ginny. I'm going to help Luna. There's no way I'm going through the veil myself."

"Okay," Ginny reluctantly agreed, "but what about Hermione?"

"Of course we'll help her if she wants," Harry held Ginny tight, "but if it were me, I'd want to go get my parents alone. I'll ask, though."

"Thank you for including me in that statement, Harry. It really means a lot to me."

"I would have done so also when I said I'd help Luna, but I didn't know if you wanted to, because of...Fred."

"That's exactly why I want to," Ginny responded blazingly.

Neville yawned loudly, and got up. "Well, I'll see you guys later." Then he walked away mumbling to himself something that sounded like, "A Merlin. Gran will never believe it."

Harry and Ginny stayed there in the grass under the tree enjoying each others' company and comfort for the next couple hours, catching up with events of the past year. A kiss or two may have worked its way between topics, and before he knew it, it was tie for Harry to go see Kingsley. Harry and Ginny kissed one more time before heading their separate ways. Harry to McGonagle's office, while Ginny headed back to check on George.

Harry walked up the rubble strewn hallways to the entrance of now Headmistress McGonagle's office. The gargoyle still laid on the floor, broken, but the spiral stairs were visible behind, so Harry went up them to the door. He heard a deep voice which he recognized instantly as Kingsley's on the other side. Harry sighed, then knocked.

After which, Professor McGonagle answered, "Enter."

Harry opened the door, and walked in. He saw that the room was decorated in the tartan decor that McGonagle favored. She was sitting in what was once Professor Dumbledore's chair, and off to the left Kingsley was sitting in a plush padded armchair. There was another witch Harry didn't recognize next to him in another, and one empty seat in front of the headmistress facing them all.

Mrs. McGonagle motioned Harry to the empty seat, a plain padded chair. Harry shuffled over and sat down, looked up at Kingsley and nodded.

Kingsley started in his deep baritone, "Harry, first of all, thank you for coming at my request."

Harry glanced over to the witch that he'd not seen before, who was taking notes on a parchment.

"Oh, sorry. Harry, this is my assistant, Mrs. Plunkin. Mrs. Plunkin, Harry Potter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," she said standing and reaching to shake his hand.

"Er, likewise," Harry said, shaking hers.

Kingsley began again, "We don't know how to thank you enough for what you've done."

"I know how you could, don't," Harry responded, "I don't want some grand ceremony all the time. I'd really just like to be left alone for a while."

"Well," Kingsley continued unabashed, "That we can do," Kingsley motioned around the room, "But the rest of the world won't. You're their hero, Harry. Surely you know that."

"Yeah, great," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"I'll promise you this much, Harry," Kingsley said, "After tomorrow, as long as I'm minister of magic, the ministry will not bother you."

"Er, after tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Yes, as I'm sure Hermione has told you, we're having a memorial service tomorrow. You're going to be part of it."

Harry noticed Kingsley didn't ask him.

"How much of a part is up to you," Kingsley continued.

"Up to me?" Harry's temper started rising.

"Hear me out, Harry, before you answer or get upset," Kingsley said diplomatically. "You are going to get the Order of Merlin, first class award. Everyone who fought here will get a Merlin, Second class." And here Kingsley cringed a little, "We, the ministry, that is, I would like you to give a speech."

Harry pulled out the parchment that Hermione had given him, and handed it to Kingsley.

As his eyes scanned over it, Harry said, "Yeah, Hermione told me about this. And I knew what to expect. I will be at the ceremony, not because people want to see me or congratulate me, but because I do have something to say." Harry looked over to the parchment Kingsley was holding, "It's not that," he pointed at it. "I'll keep that, because Hermione went through all the trouble of writing it for me, but that's not my speech. I'll say a few words. I don't even know yet, but they'll be from my heart."

"I know they will, Potter," Mrs. McGonagle said, a rare tear trying to free itself from the corner of her eye.

"Also, I have some requests of you, too, before we go any further," Harry said.

"I'll try to the best of my abilities to honor them, Harry," Kingsley answered.

"First, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Ginny; Order of Merlin, First Class." Harry looked to Kingsley.

"Done," he responded.

"The Hogwarts house elves; special services to the school for every one." Harry looked over at Mrs. McGonagle, her lips pursed.

She said, "Gladly," then smiled.

"You won't forget Grawp or the centaurs, when you're handing out those Merlins," Harry stated, and heard Mrs. Plunkin gulp loudly before she scribbled down the statement. Harry grinned.

"Done, anything else?" Kingsley answered.

Just then, Harry's stomach growled loudly. "A sandwich?" he asked.

"Mrs. Plunkin, please see to Harry's request."

"Of course," She said, and walked out immediately.

"Anything you want to say, off the record, Harry?" Kingsley asked.

Harry thought about it again, and decided to tell just these two; two of the people he most respected in the world. Harry leaned forward. Kingsley and the headmistress, not even realizing it, did likewise.

Harry answered in a low voice, "Horcruxes."

Mrs. McGonagle gasped involuntarily, and Kingsley asked, even more quietly, "Horcruxes?"

"Seven," Harry almost whispered.

"And they're..."

"All gone," Harry cut off the minister, "He's not coming back. It's over."

Both Mrs. McGonagle and Kingsley let out a breath they didn't even know they were holding.

"And you, Potter?"

"I was one, too. He used the killing curse on me. Again. And now, now we're free of him."

Both Kingsley and the professor didn't miss the inflection of voice there, and knew just what was meant.

"Thank you, Harry," the headmistress said, the rogue tear finally fighting its way on to her cheek.

Just then, Mrs. Plunkin came back in the office with a tray of sandwiches, some biscuits, and tea.

"Thank you, Lila," Kingsley said as she set them down.

"Thank you," Harry added, as he grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of tea.

Kingsley and Mrs. McGonagle both took a biscuit and some tea, sipping and eating in silence, pondering the information Harry had given.

Harry took and ate a second sandwich, realizing how hungry he really was. After Harry finished his sandwiches, for he had had another, he downed his tea in one, as it had cooled down substantially. Harry looked back up to Kingsley, who met his eyes, and nodded him to proceed.

Harry looked over at Mrs. Plunkin, shrugged and said, "I need to have access tot he veiled arch in the Department of Mysteries."

Mrs. McGonagle snapped out of her reverie, and her eyebrows shot up.

"I'll need to ask why," Kingsley said

"It's a project that Luna, Ginny, and I need to finish."

Kingsley frowned, shifted his feet, and said, "You didn't answer my question, Harry. What do you need it for?"

"Er, I'm not sure, exactly," Harry said, opting for the truth, "How about I find out exactly what we're going to do after we finish researching, and I'll let you know before we do anything, if you give us access."

"Tell you what," Kingsley answered, "I'll assign you an unspeakable who's been researching it next week. You can report to him, and he'll grant your access upon my approval. Fair?"

Harry grinned, and said, "Thanks, Kingsley, er, Minister Shacklebolt."

"You may call me Kingsley in private, but please do use my title in public."

"Sure, Kingsley," Harry said smiling again.

"Anything else?" Kingsley asked.

"Um, I don't think... wait! I forgot. I've heard, er, that the goblins are upset at me."

"More like extremely livid, bordering on murderous, actually," Kingsley responded.

"Uh, yeah. What can I do to help that... situation?"

"Probably best to stay away from Gringott's for a while, Harry. Breaking in, stealing from a high security vault, stealing a dragon, freeing it. While grounded in necessity, as is was," Kingsley said, seeing Harry about to argue his view, "I assume you were after something you needed to help finish Voldemort."

An "Eep" slipped out of Mrs. Plankin, hearing this.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Then, the Ministry's Department of Magical Creatures will try to work to solve the problem in our best interests. In the meantime, the Ministry will keep you at our expense."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"You're welcome, of course," Kingsley answered, "Is there anything else you need?"

"No," Harry answered

"Alright, then you've granted my request to speak tomorrow, service at 10:00 a.m.. My only other request of you is, after your speech, I would like you to read the names of the fallen, as they are added to a marble memorial that will be made. Many wizards and witches are all collaborating on the memorial, and I would like you to talk to them, and add something of your own."

"Er, okay," Harry responded.

Kingsley went on for another half hour, going over the specifics of the ceremony, when each part would take place, who was going to be in it, and it seemed like every minute detail of everything relating thereto. When he was done, Kingsley asked Harry to be ready the next day at 8:30 a.m. Back here at Mrs. McGonagle's office.

Harry left feeling very drained, tired, and kind of depressed after thinking again of all those that died the prior day.