Chapter 2: A Bigger Picture

Harry turned and walked into the castle. Already he could see students and teachers busily trying to put the castle back into working order. Professor Flitwick was repairing the staircases, which had huge chunks missing. Dean and Seamus, having finished bringing out all the bodies, were using spells to remove the blood and gore from the marble floors. Harry saw ghosts flitting about, giving advice here and there, and reporting where more damage could be found. As Harry stopped and watched, he noticed a shimmering figure watching him back. Helena Ravenclaw was staring at Harry with a mixed expression of sadness and relief. She smiled and turned back to a couple of Hufflepuff sixth years who were levitating a large gilded frame back into position on the wall, its occupants watching from the next picture over.

Harry turned from the scene and looked ahead of him, to where the doors of the Great Hall stood open. He swallowed as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Collin, and who knew how many more people lay dead in the room before him. He gulped down air as he felt a burning ball of guilt in his stomach. It was his fault they had died, all of them. Well, not completely. He hadn't waved the wand that rid Teddy of his parents. He hadn't blasted apart the wall that split up Fred and George. But if only he had acted sooner, if only he hadn't taken so long to just go to Voldemort, they might still be alive. He couldn't just walk in there and act like everything was fine. He couldn't walk over to the Weasley's and see the blame in their eyes. And Ginny, how could he ever look at her again? After everything he'd done, leaving her, not telling her any of his plans, acting like she meant nothing, and now taking her brother from her. No, he couldn't face her. He turned to walk, he didn't even know where. He just wanted to get away. He made for the front doors, anywhere was better than where people were openly staring and congratulating him.

"Potter!" Harry whipped around, his hand darting to his newly repaired phoenix wand. He had barely moved 3 feet when Professor McGonagall came bustling out of the Great Hall towards him.

"Professor, what-" but he was cut off as she swept him into a very un-McGonagall like embrace.

"I can't believe it Harry! You did it! I-I'm so proud." She released him and drew a flowered handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. "But, Potter," she said, returning to her normal, more strict tone of voice, "where have you been? No one has seen you sin-since the end of the battle." It seemed she couldn't say it, that he, Voldemort, was dead. "Everyone's been dying to see you. Are you alright? Are you hurt?" She was gazing down at him with concern.

"No, I'm fine Professor. I just, just needed some time, to think." She seemed to understand. She was nodding as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Good Potter. Now head into the hall. I know the Weasleys have been dying to see you. Especially Miss Weasley." She gave him a soft, knowing smile as she looked down upon him. "I think it would do everyone good to see you, and maybe, if you could, offer some consolation?" He nodded, thinking that it was the least he could do for the families of all those who had died for him. He would do anything to bring some happieness on those who had lost the most. Again the feeling of guilt started to boil in his stomach. Almost as though she could read his mind McGonagall said softly, "It's not your fault you know." He looked up disbelievingly into the face of his usually stern teacher to see tears silently pouring down her face. "You can't blame your self for everything. It's no use thinking about the what ifs. What's done is done and their deaths are no more your fault than they are mine." At this Harry opened his mouth to retort when she cut him off. "I mean it Potter," she said quickly jumping back into her stern voice. "There is nothing you could have done to change it. Those people in there gave their lives for this war. No, not for you. A part of it maybe, but they did it for more reasons. Lupin and Tonks fought. They both knew the risks all too well. They fought to give their son a better world to live in and by their deaths they accomplished it. Collin fought to save the newly found world that he had come to love so much. He fought so his brother could experience this would without the taint of Voldemort. And Fred, he loved his family so much, even more than jokes I think. He fought to give them a chance. He fought to give all of us a chance. And by thinking that their deaths are your fault is taking away from the sacrifices they made. In assuming all the guilt you make everything centered around yourself and that is no way to treat the brave men and women who have died." She had straightened up during her speech and Harry was reminded of another Headmaster of Hogwarts who always knew what to say to make him feel better. And Harry did feel better. The hot bubbling guilt was gone, there was still sadness there, a sadness he was sure would never leave him, only stay and join the misery he had for Dumbledore, Sirius, and his parents. But McGonagall was right. He was being selfish. Of course they hadn't died just for him. He knew that all along but it took directions from a very wise Professor to get him to see straight.

"Thank-thank you Professor. I-I needed that." He looked warmly up at his old Transfiguration teacher.

"You're very welcome Potter. Now, move along." She spared him one last smile, before striding off in the direction of Ernie MacMillan, who was moving a group of suits of armor down a corridor.