By August, it was time to leave. The school was not what it had once been, but the common rooms and the majority of the classrooms were functional once more. The Great Hall was in worse shape, although the magical roof had been restored by an exhausted McGonnigal. The windows were all shattered, and their frames were made useful with shield charms that were only marginally effective. The carvings on the walls were all but destroyed, and the floor was cracked, and missing in places. But the tables were functional, and the kitchens hadn't received very much damage at all. In short, the school was ready to open its doors again for the school year.
On July 29th, the final students began to pack up their tents. The school had been transformed from a battlefield into a moderately habitable castle, and their work was done. The things that remained- windows, doors, isolated charms-could be handled by the teachers as they prepared to welcome the new students.
"I can't believe that we're finally done," Ron said as they disassembled their tent.
"You aren't done, Ron. You don't even have your N.E.W.T.s."
"Yeah, but I got the job, didn't I?"
"Yes, but don't you feel like you didn't earn it fairly? I mean, the only reason they took you is because-"
"Because I killed a bunch of death eaters? Don't remind me, Hermione. I mean, that's exactly what they want to hear. I've still got scars from that damn brain, too."
"Oh, Ron," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "how many times do I have to tell you that no one cares about those scars?"
"I care, okay? Doesn't my opinion count for anything?" He kissed her, biting her lip playfully.
"No, not really, mate. Sorry." Harry had appeared behind them, his hands filled with tent pegs. "Would you two quit snogging and help me finish packing up?"
They broke apart, and Ron noticed that Hermione was blushing. It suited her, he thought.
"Oh, lay off it, will you? I have to watch you snogging my sister, don't I? I let you, don't I?"
"Ron, Ginny isn't your property. You can't really control her," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I could have sworn I'd told you that before."
"Yeh, but I doubt Mum wants her daughter snogging my best friend either. And she'd be pretty shocked to hear what you get up to." Ron was getting red, in spite of himself. Why did it bother him so much that Ginny was growing up?
"Oh yeah, and she'd be thrilled to hear about your days with Lavender…"
Harry trailed off. They hadn't brought up Lavender since they had found her all those months ago, lungs too damaged to support her. They had all been with her in Saint Mungo's the day she died- every last member of the D.A. It had caused quite the jam in the hallway, as they had filed in one by one to say their last goodbye.
Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in silence, their moment of fun ruined. Ron's connection to Lavender was arguably the strongest, but her loss had not been easy for any of them.
Hermione broke the silence. "We need finish packing up if we want to leave before it gets dark. And we said we'd visit his grave before we go."
They did not need to speak after that. Their friendship was so old, so well developed that they could communicate without uttering a single word. Ron wished that it was so easy to cast spells silently.
The lake was quiet, not disturbed by waves or wind. When they reached the grave, the sun was just beginning to set over the castle and it turned the water in front of them a fiery orange. This was magic that didn't require a spell- the magic that the world created around them. It was almost as though the lake knew that the moment had come for them to say goodbye.
The three friends had not been back to the tomb since Harry had returned the wand in May, but it looked exactly the same. The design, the location… everything was timeless, and Ron hoped that the site would never be desecrated again.
Harry stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. Ron knew what he was going to do- he had helped Harry prepare for this moment- and so he stepped back, allowing his friend a moment to be alone beside the tomb. From his pocket, Harry brought out a small, black stone and knelt at the foot of the grave. Laying his wand behind him, he dug into the moist ground with his bare hands, creating a hole two or three inches deep. Into this he dropped the stone. Harry sat for a moment, before he brushed the earth back over the cracked Resurrection Stone, and stood.
Harry had spent a whole day combing the forest for the stone. He had intended to leave it there, but the thought of some intelligent creature coming across it made him nervous. Instead, he decided that it would be fitting for it to lay within the protection charms of Dumbledore's tomb- away from temptation and impure desires. He knew that to take it himself would destroy the life he was attempting to regain.
Harry walked back to where his friends stood, and put his arms around them. They stood there in silence for a few minutes more, revelling in the silence.