See Prologue for all warnings and dislaimers.
Moonlight and Shadows: Chapter 2
Harry woke the next morning early, with his head throbbing. Ginny had already left, so he showered and dressed in silence, wondering what to do that day.
His first mission was to find Hermione and tell her that she had to get rid of his headache. Then... he didn't know what. He was tired of going to the forest, and contemplating his death... which sounded almost suicidal, but his death, strangely, was in the past...
The invisibility cloak was stashed in his pocket for the walk up to Hogwarts, for the first time in a week. Even if he had to face the world as a hero... well, he just had to face the world.
He had regrets almost immediately. As soon as he walked outside, he was asked to sign autographs, kiss quills (for good luck), and pose for pictures. To his horror, he was also offered a great number of goblets full of what looked like suspicious Weasley love potions, and his stomach lurched. Would there be any more Weasley love potions?
Harry avoided all that he could, plagued all the way up to the castle. He spotted Hermione quickly, over near the entrance to the hospital wing talking to Luna's father. Probably apologizing again, thought Harry. Mr. Lovegood seemed in danger of hurting himself if he didn't apologize to Ron, Harry, or Hermione at least five times every day. Harry tried not to get anyone's attention as he walked over to Hermione.
She hugged him immediately and Mr. Lovegood said, "Ah, Harry–"
"It's OK," he nodded, before he could utter an actual apology. "Listen, Hermione..." They smiled to Mr. Lovegood as a goodbye, and walked off. Hermione fixed his headache perfectly in a corner where no one could assume Harry Potter had yet another ailment.
"Harry this reminds me–"
"My scar is fine," he said automatically. Hermione looked taken aback.
"I know, Harry. Why wouldn't it be?" She went on without waiting for an answer, "No, actually... this is about... well... after this is all over, when we go home, I was thinking of going into... well, doing... er... Healer training."
"That's great! You would be fantastic at it, Hermione!" Harry tried to break through the barrier of his apathy to respond with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
"Really? You think so? Because I keep having second thoughts... See, I don't really know what Ron plans to do... and I don't want to–"
"You mean you haven't told him yet?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"Well... no... I didn't–"
"Hermione, you have to tell him. Trust me, he's sitting somewhere right now contemplating how to break it to you that he thinks you should go into Healer training." She smiled.
"Really?"
"Yes. Hermione... it's your future and his. You have a part in it."
"Wow, Harry... thanks. You sound like you know what you're talking about, actually... Did Ginny and you–"
"No," Harry answered shortly. Hermione was looking at him curiously, so he said, "I'm er... I'm not really Ginny's boyfriend anymore." Hermione gasped softly.
"Harry, there must be some mistake... I've already seen her this morning, she looked really happy... what happened? She'd be really devastated if anything serious really happened... you must be mistaken, really..."
"No, I'm not. We talked it out, we're fine... but Ginny's, like, my sister. All of them are... you, too... like, the siblings I never really had..."
She hugged him fiercely again, and said, "oh, Harry..." into his shirt. "And she's fine with it?" she said as she pulled away.
"Yeah, she kind of... initiated it." Hermione was studying him.
"Should I just ask Ginny?"
"Yeah, actually," said Harry, relieved. "She'd know how to tell you, er, better..."
"Alright," she patted his arm. "Oh, and Harry. McGonagall would like to speak to you."
"Where is she?"
Hermione shrugged. It felt odd not to be told to see Professor McGonagall in her office. But for all he knew, hers may be one of the many offices that was smashed.
He found her leaning over one of the many ill students with a Healer. As he got closer, he saw the student was Dennis Creevey, who had probably come back with his brother, Colin. Harry felt a stab of guilt looking at Dennis just like he did with everyone else he saw or heard about who was injured or killed.
"Professor?" he asked.
"Ah, Potter, yes, I need to speak with you," she said, still attending to Dennis.
"What happened to him?"
"Broke a leg in three places, and cracked two ribs and his skull," McGonagall answered.
"Hit with two Stunners, too," added the Healer, who beamed at Harry. Harry weakly smiled back. "We fixed everything that was broken in no time, of course. But the boy is small, he shouldn't have endured two Stunners..." she shook her head. The Creevey boys were indeed tiny, and Harry wondered that Dennis was still alive at all.
"So he's sort of in a coma?" Harry asked.
"A what?" replied the Healer.
"Coma... you know... er... nevermind," said Harry, realizing that being in a coma must be a Muggle thing.
"Well, he's undergoing exactly what happened to Minerva here a couple years back. He's in an extremely deep sleep that he might just have to come out of on his own," explained the Healer, whose name badge read Paula. Harry rolled his eyes inwardly, as she had just explained the symptoms of being in a coma.
But he understood why Professor McGonagall was leaning over Dennis so intently– she had been struck with four Stunning Spells at the same time, and it had taken her a few days to come out of her coma. Dennis had been unconscious for a week.
Without looking at him, McGonagall said, "well, Potter, better come with me," and she drew herself away from Dennis.
Harry followed her out of the Great Hall into the classroom he used to have Transfiguration in. The classroom was relatively unscathed, except that neither of the windows had glass in them, and glass shards were scattered all over the floor.
He perched himself on a desk while McGonagall shut the door. She looked pointedly at the glass on the floor, as if daring it to really be there, before saying, "evanesco" and turning to Harry.
"Now, Potter, I'm sorry if this comes off as insensitive. In no way would I purposefully find myself being insensitive about this whole situation. You've realized, I'm sure, that people care more about your word than about the Minister of Magic's right now?"
That hasn't changed much, thought Harry. Seeing as there isn't even a Minister right now. "Well... yes. They're looking to me to tell them what to do and I don't know what to say," he said.
"Quite right, Potter... and I think they know that. Now, I'm reminding you again that no one is trying to be insensitive, but Potter... we've all been mourning for a week. We want to remember the war, in both how great it was, and how terrible, but I believe we need to move on. The war is over," she said insistently, reminding Harry of Ginny. "The war is over, Potter, and I suggest that you tell everyone something."
"You want me to tell them to go home and start having parties, like the rest of the wizarding world?"
"No, Potter. Actually, I think that is a very bad idea. Especially since there's so much work to be done around here." He looked at her and she nodded to him, then left the room.
Harry made his way up to the Great Hall again. He hesitated by the staff platform, just as he had after the war, to make an announcement. He caught Hermione's eye, then looked for Ron, but caught Malfoy's eye instead. It was odd that he was here, at the castle, when he seemed to be hiding from something in his cave. Malfoy's eyes didn't narrow, but Harry certainly didn't get any encouragement from them, either.
He stepped onto the platform and almost immediately silence fell in the hall.
"Hello, everyone. We've had a week of peace, which is better than any of us could say for a long time." Here, clapping and a few cheers interrupted his speech. He went on, "I'm very glad that so many of you chose to stay at Hogwarts to pay tribute to the fallen or injured. There have been many recoveries, and we expect so many more.
"But now, I think it's time that we all start thinking of rebuilding our world, the way we want it. Think of how Voldemort would be building his world if the war was lost. And then think of how much better we can make it. Some will start with their houses, making them homes once again. Some will start with the Ministry. And some will stay here, and help rebuild Hogwarts."
Cheering met this last statement. "Please tell everyone you know that it is their duty and yours to make sure our new world is created with peace," he finished. If he said anything else it would just turn out mushy and unlike him. So, he left the staff table and was greeted with requests for autographs and pictures again.
Forcing his way through that mess, he tried to make his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He knew that was the place to start if he was going to take on rebuilding the castle. Halfway up a set of stairs, he heard running behind him and turned to see Ron and Hermione catching up, panting.
"Harry, mate... Your fan club has never been this big," said Ron.
"We thought about actually jinxing them to get through and leave them behind," said Hermione. "But that wouldn't really go under the category of 'creating our new world with peace,' would it?"
"Shut up," answered Harry, appalled that she would actually make fun of his speech. Ron and Hermione laughed.
"Harry, I'm kidding. Ron and I thought that speech made a lot of sense, and I'm glad you said something to them all."
"Yeah, well..."
"So, we're starting with Gryffindor Tower, then?" asked Ron, as they reached the Fat Lady. She was unscathed, but parts of the corridor across from her were almost blocking the passageway.
"Ah, my victorious little vanquishers, I hadn't seen you all year!" said the portrait.
"Is there a password?" asked Harry.
"Not for you!" She said merrily, and swung forward to let them in.
"What about for other people? There are going to be lots of people coming and helping us, we want them to be able to get in any time..."
"Well, for them..." she thought, still swinging on her hinges. "How about... 'Harry Potter'?" Harry sighed, exasperated, but Ron said, "Perfect!" and entered the room.
The common room was littered with everything that made up the tower. Glass, stone, fluff from pillows and couches, shards of whatever trinkets were lying around, ash from the fireplace, and wood from the doors and tables were all strewn about the room, making it obvious that a great number of Death Eaters had entered the castle by way of Gryffindor Tower.
Ron groaned, "This is going to take forever, mate." Hermione looked around helplessly. But Harry had a sudden inspiration.
"Kreacher?" he said. At once, there was a load crack, and Kreacher appeared. He looked more disheveled than last time they'd seen him, all the way back in Grimmauld Place. But he still had on his cleaner towel and he still smiled at Harry.
"Master Harry, Kreacher was wondering when you'd call."
"How have you been, Kreacher?" asked Hermione kindly. Out of habit, it seemed, Kreacher glared at her, but then seemed to remember she was his friend and said, "Kreacher has been well. Kreacher heard Dobby was killed, Master Harry."
"Yeah, Dobby got us out of a tight spot, but Bellatrix actually killed him." Harry looked at Kreacher curiously, waiting to see what he'd say, but Kreacher seemed utterly confused about how to take the piece of news. Finally, Harry went on.
"Kreacher, where are all the other house elves?"
"Most is in the kitchen, Master Harry. Some is in the Hospital Wing."
"What are they doing?" Kreacher looked completely ashamed at this question.
"They isn't doing nothing, Master Harry," he said as he looked at the carpet.
"What do you mean?"
"Some people has come looking for food, and they fix them food. But no one gives the Hogwarts elves orders anymore, Master Harry. We doesn't know what to do anymore with the different times."
"Well... how would the Hogwarts elves feel about helping us clean up?"
Kreacher brightened so much at this that Harry might have thought someone had told him he was getting all the Black family heirlooms back for Christmas.
"Master Harry, we is delighted! The house elves know how to help! Thank you, Master Harry!" And he disappeared with a crack to tell the other elves. Harry stood up and looked at Ron and Hermione.
"What did that mean, that they knew how to help?"
"I think it has to do with their brand of magic," answered Hermione. "They can seal things the way wizards can't."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked. But his question was answered when Kreacher came back with at least two dozen house elves.
Together they worked until mid-afternoon. Most of the D.A., whether they were in Gryffindor or not, and quite a few of their family members, came to help with rebuilding Gryffindor Tower. The humans could point their wands at an object, and immediately a house elf would send a flash of lavender light that would seal the object together. This was especially useful since though the wizards would be able to piece a rock wall back together, it might still have holes in it, and it would never be fit for any protective charms. The house elves ensured that none of the objects would break again, and they even took the time to put all the protective spells they knew on every part of Gryffindor Tower.
Harry marveled that they were actually done in less than a day. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was organizing the removal of the mourners from the Great Hall. Anyone still unwell was to go to the Hospital Wing. Harry was happy that most families had chosen to bury their dead on Hogwarts grounds; he thought it was fitting, since Hogwarts housed more good memories than bad for almost everyone.
Now, he had not only the wizarding world, but also the house elves, looking to him for guidance. He told the house elves to set tables up in the Great Hall so that everyone could eat a free meal there, and the house elves outdid themselves with the feast that night.
Harry sat with all of the D.A. members and made small talk with them, looking around the hall to see who had come. Most everyone he had seen over the past week was still here– the man from Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding, Cornelius Fudge (Harry wondered if he expected to be made Minister of Magic again), Rita Skeeter (Why doesn't Hermione put a stop to her?!), and surprisingly, Gilderoy Lockhart, who looked like he was in his element with several important people who looked impressed by him. Poser, thought Harry.
To his annoyance, he caught Draco Malfoy's eye for the second time that day. Harry noted that he was sitting at what was normally the Hufflepuff table, without his parents. He looked around for them, but they were nowhere to be found, and Harry turned his attention back to his meal.
He left after most of the Hogsmeade crowd, which had dwindled since Gryffindor Tower had been cleaned. More people wanted to sleep in the castle in the newly cleaned quarters. Harry left alone, with a questioning look at Ginny, whose nod told him that he could sleep in their room again, but that she was going to stay in the hall a while longer.
Luckily, he found himself walking to Hogsmeade alone, without even needing to put on his invisibility cloak. He looked at Hogwarts' ornate gates as he walked down the dark path, his mind blank. Suddenly, the gates were swept from view and he was looking at brown earth instead. This time, he didn't even consider that he had tripped over anything.
He got up, spat dirt out of his mouth, and turned to face Malfoy.
"Is that your usual greeting, then?" he asked.
"No, I reserve it only for highly bothersome dolts like you," answered Malfoy pleasantly.
"Should I be thanking you?"
"No need. It's my pleasure."
"What do you want?"
"Oh, to compliment you on your cunning little peace talk this morning. Are we all going to skip and hold hands, too?"
"Shove off, Malfoy," he turned around and headed back down the lane. Almost immediately, his right leg was pulled back again and he fell. This time, he broke his fall better, but that didn't make him any happier.
"Stop doing that! Merlin, is that like the only jinx you know?" he brushed himself off.
"Well, I happen to think it's a damn sight better than slashing you open in a dozen different places. Wouldn't you say it's really quite considerate of me?" Malfoy sneered.
"Listen, Malfoy. You know that was an accident."
"Did it look like I needed any unsightly scars?"
"Well, it shouldn't have made any difference, seeing as you were already branded with your stupid Dark Mark. That's unsightly enough."
Malfoy simply glowered. Harry wondered if maybe he had gone too far– any Death Eater still alive would be ashamed to have that cursed mark. Harry knew as well that it probably wasn't even Malfoy's wish to be a Death Eater. If his father wasn't so involved, and if Malfoy could have thought for himself and prevented it... But that was stupid. Of course it was Malfoy's wish. But as Malfoy spoke, it was with distinct malice and little dignity.
"Don't even... mention that to me... ever again, Potter," Malfoy managed to spit.
With that, Malfoy strode past Harry, not even bothering to look at him, and headed toward Hogsmeade himself.
But Harry had made up his mind. He was not going to let this rest, desperate as he was for another adventure.
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Total cliffie! I won't pretend to be sorry... :)
Please review!
The next chapter will be a little shorter, sorry... but hopefully the news that the whole thing is a D/H scene will cheer everyone up. YAY! I might as well tell you now that the M rating is for future reference... I'll just put it that way, yeah? Thanks everyone :)