Chapter Fifty-Four: To the Future

The second time Harry woke, it was to the familiar scent of Hogwarts' Infirmary. He kept his eyes closed for a minute, cataloguing the sounds. The windows had to be open. He could hear bird song and the sound of the…Ravenclaw Quidditch team shouting in the distance.

He was not alone on the ward. Soft conversations bloomed on both sides of his bed. The sharp antiseptic odor of Madam Pomfrey's favorite cleaners was dulled by the fresh air, the faint breeze traveling over his skin, bringing the scent of spring into the room.

Harry's mind still felt fragile. He was pretty sure there was no one on either bed next to him, since the only futures that he could See were his and Draco's, tangled so densely he could not tell where one ended and the other began.

He opened his eyes and flexed his hand. Draco's head shot up, blinked hard, even as Harry tried not to laugh at the lines that had been pressed into Draco's cheek by the fold of the blankets.

"Harry?" Draco pushed his bangs from his eyes, the once ever-present gel long gone from the fine strands.

"Hello, Draco," Harry ran his thumb over the back of the blond's hand. "I'm back. For good."

Draco lunged forward, startling a squawk from Harry. That caught the attention of some of the other patients, who called for Madam Pomfrey. Before Harry could protest his bed was surrounded by adults, with a few of his Housemates dancing at the edges, trying to get close as well.

Draco refused to move from Harry's bed as Madam Pomfrey ran her spells. Healer Fabing beamed at Harry from her side, hands clasped at his waist. Auror Rayne was busy trying to keep Blaise and Pansy from Harry's bedside – and losing, as Blaise distracted the man while Pansy took his wand and Neville slipped through while none of them were looking.

There was a roar of conversation so Harry had no chance to get a word in edgewise. He held onto Draco's hand as the swirl of futures got worse – then the blond did something strange – an odd growling sound that made everyone freeze and the futures ease away, leaving Harry in peace.

"So," Harry said into the sudden silence. "Exactly what happened after I passed out?"

The laughter chased away the tension that had filled the air. Chairs were drawn up – then the doors to the Infirmary banged open and Professor Snape was there, striding down the aisles, his robe billowing in a way Harry was still sure only the Potions Master knew how to achieve.

Snape bullied Healer Fabing from the chair nearest Harry's bedside and engaged in a staring match with Auror Rayne as everyone else shuffled to find spots.

"So?" Harry prompted, amused by the display. "I take it we won."

Draco snorted, shifting Harry against his side. He had crawled up onto the bed, stretching out along the sheets, one arm tucked behind Harry's back. "Yes, apparently," Harry didn't have to see him to see the blond's eye roll. He elbowed Draco in the side, ignored his yelp and turned to Professor Snape.

"I remember I wounded Crom Cruach," Harry said. "Then I passed out. Is he gone?"

The Slytherins all exchanged glances, but Draco was the one to answer the question. "After you…passed out, Crom Cruach tried to go after you again. I…distracted him, until Gwyn ap Nudd and the Morrigan came to deal with him."

"They were freed?"

"Severus got them out, yes."

"How did you distract him?" Harry rubbed at his nose. "I seem to remember – was there a dragon there?"

Draco sputtered as Blaise and Pansy began to laugh. "He was the dragon," Blaise said. "Our Draco has become the first dragon animagus in recorded wizarding history."

"A what?"

"The wild magic," Draco said, "Remember? The Black Family has always had a talent for being animagi. The wild magic woke the ability in me and the rest just…happened."

"The…Black Family?" Harry's heart stuttered. "Like Sirius and…Ginny? Oh! Where's Bill?"

Professor Snape's expression was dark as he answered Harry. "Bill has been given a promotion in Gringott's archeological division. He oversees the whole lot, now."

"Because of the Horn? What – he was the one to sound it, right? And what happened to the storms?" Harry's mind was filling up with questions.

"After I distracted the god," Draco cut in before anyone could answer, "The Winter King and the Morrigan went after Crom Cruach. It turns out the swords the Priest and the Dark God were using were actually the Morrigan's and Gwyn ap Nudd's. They weren't too pleased that they were about to be executed by their own blades, let me tell you. You had already struck a mortal blow to the mad hatter, so they just had to finish him off. It was rather…bloody. But they would not rest until he was gone, all bits and pieces of him are scattered across the continent in locked, warded boxes."

"But not gone completely," Harry said.

"He's a god," Blaise shrugged. "You can't exactly eradicate him. But it'll be a feat of improbability for him to come back now."

"What about the Priest?"

Draco's sheepish cough jostled them both. "I…crushed him with my tail."

Harry twisted so he could see the blond's face. "You had a tail?"

"Laugh and die."

"A tail?"

"Harry…"

"That's unfair!"

"Unfair?" Draco sputtered.

Professor Snape cleared his throat, stopping their chatter before it could turn into something more. "After the god was dispatched more…people began to arrive at the site. Crom Cruach's worshippers were starting to regain their senses and attacking. Draco's new…ability left him weak after he changed back."

"That was a pain," Draco broke in. "But I liked the flying part."

"Prat," Harry laughed. "Now you have wings and I don't!"

"After," Severus frowned at them, but there was no irritation in the man's eyes. "After our…reinforcements came, the gods started to appear." Severus spread his hands and shrugged. "None of them knew how to stop the storms that had covered the world or undo all the damage that had been wrought."

"We were already using the time turners," Blaise added. "We could tell that the storms had stopped, but we didn't know what was happening."

"There was a disagreement between the gods," Snape continued.

"More like a bloody big row," Draco grumbled into Harry's ear.

"And none of them could decide on what to do," Severus finished with a sharp glance at the blond. "Some of them wanted to…wake you to find out what their options were."

An uncomfortable shuffle seemed to pass around the gathered crowd. Harry frowned, patting the arm that had tightened around him.

"I was dead again, wasn't I?" He tried for levity.

"You were not," Draco snapped. "Just…mostly dead. Sort of."

"I remember," Harry shook his head. "I saw Danu again. She said we had to stop meeting like that. She's a pretty funny lady."

"…Funny lady?" Draco blinked.

Harry shrugged. "Well, she is."

"They were going to wake you," Draco picked up the thread of the story, "But Dagda arrived before they could get to you. The Morrigan vowed to protect you, even from them. Which pissed a few of the gods off. When Gwyn ap Nudd stood up for her, and you, and that just made it worse. Then when Dagda arrived, he set everybody straight."

"He would," Harry agreed.

"He told us all that a new era had been born at the Horn's call. The gods would have dominion over the land once more, the heroes would return and everyone had a lot of work ahead of them." Draco took a deep breath. "The god also said that magic was to be returned to the world, like in the times before Merlin and that the whole world over would have to relearn the old ways of magic again."

Harry blinked a few times. "You mean…"

"There are no more muggle and wizarding separations," Auror Rayne nodded. "We're to go back to being one world, working with each other instead of hiding away."

"…Wow," Harry said. "How'd everyone take it?"

"Well, the mess with the storms had to be cleaned up," Neville said. "A lot of damage was done by the muggle weapons going off. A lot of people died," Neville's eyes were shadowed. "A lot of muggles were afraid of us and the changes that are taking place."

"Not war, I hope," Harry started to tense.

"No," Auror Rayne shook his head. "The Ministries of Magic sent out emergency crews to help clean up the messes and heal the wounded. Healer Fabing," he nodded to the man, "Has taken over St. Mungo's. All of the men and women he didn't trust from your…debacle got sacked or sent out to other hospitals. Then they all volunteered to go help in London. It was a mess, let me tell you."

"Scrimgeour?" Harry asked.

"Pissed as hell," Rayne smirked. "But he's playing along. The exiles have been named ambassadors to the muggle population. There's a whole new coalition and program based on the United Nations to help all the world's countries adapt to the magic and all the changes."

"So we won," Harry breathed, relaxing into Draco's hold. "We really, really won."

"And you," Professor Snape pointed a long finger at him. "Are forbidden from saving the world ever again."

Harry began to laugh, shocking the others out of their silence. "I already have," he gasped between chuckles, "I already have it on good authority that I shouldn't ever have to again," Harry smiled. "It's time to let someone else carry on the torch. I'm retired."

The whole lot got a good laugh out of that.

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Later, when most of the well-wishers had died away, Harry was left with just Professor Snape and Draco in the dimming light of the room.

"You never said anything about Sirius," Harry said after a long silence. "Ginny didn't come to see me. Are – are they all right?"

Draco passed a hand over his hair and rubbed small circles onto Harry's back.

"Your godfather," Professor Snape began. "Bill found a great many spells on Black. Ginny was the one to guess at them, I'm told," Snape glanced at Draco. "Fondorn apparently had been working on the whole family since before your arrival this past summer. We have a few theories as to why…but nothing concrete. Only Bill was exempt, since Fondorn wouldn't dare risk attacking a cursebreaker. The spells never altered their attitude towards Bill, so he never noticed the change. By the time you were in the house…"

"Bill had left to go back to work, leaving me with them and Fondorn," Harry's throat protested saying the man's name. "Was he ever found?"

A sly smile spread over Snape's face. "Parts," he admitted. "Small parts."

Harry's answering grin was just as vicious as the Slytherins'.

"But," he said after a minute, relishing the Healer's just desserts. "But they didn't…come. Here, I mean. To see me. Yet."

That time Snape did shift in his chair. "That is because the Headmaster has refused to return you to their guardianship. He has gone so far as to restrict access to you until we could get a cursebreaker in to make sure you were not…altered yourself."

"But I'm fine!"

"We know that, Harry," Draco aid, hugging him tight. "They don't. I think the Headmaster was playing for time until you woke up to see what you wanted to do."

"…Oh," Harry gulped. "Oh," he said again. "And now…"

"The Headmaster has left it up for you to decide."

Harry ducked his head, twisting his fingers through the covers. "I…don't know," he said. "I…I just woke up."

"You don't have to decide now," Draco said. "Take all the time you need. Dumbledore has cancelled final exams. Everyone has been given excellent passing grades in every subject," he laughed at Snape's sour expression. "We can take all the time we need."

Harry settled back into his embrace, eyes heavy. "Time is good," he yawned, shifting to his side and feeling Draco's arm curl around him. "You're a dragon, eh?" He felt one of his hands being taken. He gave it a squeeze. "Never…would…have thought…" He fell asleep to Draco's irritated sniff and the quiet sound of Snape's laughter.

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Sasha ducked behind a stack of books as Seamus entered the library. She was trapped between their old study nook and the restricted section, since one part of the library had been destroyed. If she could just move…

"There you are!"

Drat and damn, she sighed.

Seamus rounded the corner of the aisle, cutting off her line of escape.

"I'm busy," she stood, folding her arms over her chest. "The castle plans have to be checked and –"

"That's what the contractors are for," Seamus retorted. "Blaise's family already has the castle plans. They helped rebuild after the last time, remember?"

"Be that as it may-"

"You're avoiding me!"

"I am not! I've been busy!"

"Busy avoiding me!"

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

"You – you bloody Gyrffindor, if I wanted to avoid you then I'd do it. I've been busy, in case that hasn't escaped your notice, you insufferable –"

He crossed the distance and kissed her, his rough, large hands framing her face. She knotted her fists into his jumper and shook, letting him manhandle them further into the small corner, away from prying eyes.

"You were avoiding me," he said after they broke apart.

She dropped his jumper as if it had burned her. "Have not," she drew herself up to her full height. "I have NEWTs to take, in case you missed the announcement where they were going to be held on time whether we liked it or not. I have to study now, my plans on attending the specialty university are almost hopeless, since they were discovered and flooded with admissions. I have to do well, and I can't gallivant off into the sun like some Gryffindors –"

Seamus had reached into his pocket and had something cupped in his palm. It was suspiciously box-like. She backed up, putting the table between them.

"I have plans," she snapped at Seamus. "Plans which include going to university, living in London with my cousin -," she had broken down sobbing when she had gotten his letter, telling her that he was still alive – "And I've no time to – to – to gallivant –"

"You said that already."

"Well, it bears repeating!"

"You're stressed."

"Of course I'm stressed! I've ten thousand things to do!"

"Marry me."

"I – what?"

He held out the box, a crooked smile on his face. "Since you already have ten thousand things to do, what's one more? Marry me?"

"You're daft."

"I love you."

She sputtered, groping for the nearest object and hurling it at his head. "That's how you're going to say it? No kneeling, no – no dinner – we're in a library, you bloody –"

"Yeah, you should keep your voice down," he had to duck the book that flew at his head.

"…And then you just say that, that – that – you – bloody Gryffindor!" She tossed a reference book at his legs, watching him dodge out of the way.

"You haven't said no," he said.

Her scream of fury turned heads all over the library.

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Ginny sat squished between Remus and Sirius. Her father – fathers, she amended, since Remus had married Sirius, and she was going to repay them for that. Sirius had an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his cheek resting on her hair.

Bill hadn't had much time to spend with them before he went back to Gringotts. The Horn was placed in a special vault just for Bill – the goblins seemed to almost revere the embarrassed cursebreaker. There had been a rush on the bank after the goblins had returned the building back to its normal plane of existence. Ginny had heard the other Slytherins talking about how some wizarding families were planning on banking elsewhere and that the threat of losing business was keeping the goblins from yanking the monetary interest rate through the roof. Esoteric stuff to Ginny's ears, but Sirius and Remus had seemed to understand the whole mess.

Pansy hadn't cared and Millicent was still chilly towards Ginny. She hadn't had the courage to ask Blaise and Draco wouldn't leave Harry's side in the Infirmary.

They were in the suite of rooms Dumbledore had granted them the first time they had stayed in the castle. Classes were to be cancelled for the rest of term, aside from those seventh year students who wished to stay and study for their scheduled NEWTs.

Ginny had gone back and forth on whether to stay in the dorms or take her bedroom in the suite with her father. Fathers. She shook her head and curled further into Sirius' embrace.

Dumbledore had denied Sirius' petition to have Harry returned to his care. Even the adoption papers Sirius had had expedited had little effect on the old man. He would not move until Harry was awake. Then he would decide the matter for good.

Dumbledore had not been pleased with her father. Ginny had come along to the meeting, hoping to add her own voice to the petition in a hope that the Headmaster would let her talk. He hadn't. She'd had to stand there as Sirius received another dressing down from Dumbledore and then told to return to his rooms until the matter was resolved. Ginny did not think the last bit was a suggestion, either.

"He'll wake up soon," Remus was one of the cool heads in the situation. He was as frustrated as they were about the whole Fondorn fiasco, but the werewolf had hope that Harry would understand and forgive them all.

"Madam Pomfrey said maybe today," Ginny said. "Should we go check on him?" She started to rise.

Sirius pulled her back down to the couch. "It's all right, Gin," he said. "We'll find out soon enough."

"But…"

"Besides," Sirius shifted on the couch. "I – there's been something I've been meaning to say to you."

Ice began to form in her stomach. "What?"

"I – I'm sorry, Gin," he pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry for being an ass. I'm sorry I put you through all this. Bill and I and Remus had a talk, you know. I never should have pushed Fondorn at you, hells, I never should have believed any of Fondorn's shit, ever. It hurt you, which means I hurt you and that, Gin, I am sorry for more than I could ever say. I never wanted to hurt you, ever. You're my daughter, my family. I love you and nothing, nothing, will ever, ever change that. You're always in here," he touched his chest. "No matter what, okay?"

She choked, speechless and then threw her arms around his neck. The world dissolved into tears and hugs, neither of them noticing the small slip of paper bearing the Infirmary seal that was shoved under their door and left to rest there for hours.

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Lucius stretched out on the padded chair in Severus' sitting room, arms bent high over his head as he propped several vertebra in his back.

The door opened, letting a draft of cold air into the room. The spring rains had returned, melting the snow on the grounds. Severus stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with a touch more force than necessary.

"Is that son of mine still in the Infirmary?" Lucius asked.

"Oh, yes. Every time Poppy tries to dislodge him, he growls at her."

"Such manners. You should have brought him up better, Severus."

The Potions Master gave him a sharp look. "Your wife can be blamed for that."

"Ex-wife," Lucius' smile spread. "I received her death certificate today. I'm officially a widower."

"How lovely for you."

Lucius set his elbow up on the edge of the armrest, propping his chin in his hand. "Did you really have to tear her hair out?"

"Yes, I – what?"

Lucius felt his chest grow warm. "You give me the best presents," he said. "I'd been wishing for her death for ages."

Severus stared at him for a moment. "Did Poppy send another pain draught for you?"

"Oh, yes."

Severus sighed. "Figures."

"And how is our Mr. Potter?" Lucius called after the man. Severus disappeared into the bedroom, but returned a minute later sans robe, boots or socks. Lucius licked his lips and narrowed his eyes.

"Harry is awake," Severus stopped to pour them both a knuckle of scotch. "He was awake the whole day where he received every visitor under the sun except that bloody dog and his family. I even had a runner send notice to the cur, but did he deign to show his blasted face? Of course not. Harry was understandably upset."

"I didn't go either."

"You have been stoned the last two days, due to recovery from severe magical shock."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that." Lucius took his glass from Severus and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he took Severus' and tossed it, too. He rolled up and out of the chair in a smooth motion, aiming their fall on the sofa a few feet away.

"Exactly how much of the draught did Poppy send you?" Severus asked form beneath him.

Lucius occupied the vicious mouth for a minute, remembering all reasons why he had loved the man beneath him for so long.

"You," he said, panting after he pulled away, leaving Severus to stare up at him. "Are a snarky, superbly intelligent, bloody magical machine. I will never fill in for you as Head of Slytherin House ever again. Marry me."

Severus blinked up at him. "Ask me again when you're sober."

"I am sober. Mostly," Then he bent to it, determined to prove just how sober he was to the obstinate man.

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"So," the voice behind her said. "I've a proposition for you."

Hermione set her quill aside and turned. Colin stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot in his fancy dress robe.

She had commandeered the small classroom for her own usage after the library had been wrecked. The plans to deactivate the time turners had been made in the cramped space, as had the exile's choice to help the Ministry after Scrimgeour's terse letter had arrived, followed by the documents pardoning them all.

"A proposition?" She rubbed her hand over her eyes. "What would that be?"

She still hadn't heard from her parents. The mess of the muggle world was hard on all the muggleborn students who were waiting for some sign from their loved ones.

"Me and the rest," Colin jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "See, we've rented this swanky house and the Minister's gone and declared it as our Ambassadorial Homestead or some other such rot."

"Wizarding consulate," she said.

"Yeah, that. Anyhow, this place is huge and you know," he shrugged, looking away. "We've room 'til you find your parents."

"I can't pay you."

"You'll work for me," he coughed. "Us, I mean. You'll work for us," he finally met her eyes. "C'mon, Herm, we're right lost without you right now. Mike's making a hash of the legal language and I think Shelly just called the British Prime Minister a cow."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione hid her face in her hands.

"So, would you do us a favor and help out for a bit? Just, you know, until…" He bit his lower lip and made pitiful eyes ate her. "I'll beg. Or – or – throw in chocolate? How's that? Or – or –,"

She held up a hand, half laughing, half crying. "All right, all right," she hiccupped on a sob. He approached her carefully, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But there had better be a steady flow of ice cream," she said.

"Any kind you want," he said. "For as long as you want. I mean it."

She covered his hand with her own and held on tight.

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Gwyn ap Nudd watched Erin play in the sun-lit courtyard, her wooden sword swinging through the air as she fought off invisible monsters for the sake of…he wasn't sure what it was this week.

Creiddylad was seated on a blanket on the green behind him. The sound of life filled his halls. His beloved had even come to him on her own, not making him beg for her to grace his presence, as per their agreement.

Erin turned and shot him a grin over her shoulder as she spun and laughed. He stood at the edge of her play, still aching in places, but full of life as he had ever felt before. Creiddylad had invited a host of others to enjoy the day – Epona and Rosmerta flanked his flower maiden, while Cuchulainn and Lugh spoke together over something the young demi-god held in his hands. Other gods and goddesses roamed about, some nibbling at the buffet table his steward had thought up, others stretched out, enjoying the sun.

A stir of his soldiers caused him to turn. The Morrigan paced into the courtyard, causing a stir of the gathered gods, all of them easing from her path as gracefully as possible. It did not skip her notice and she sneered at the few who raised their eyebrows at her and laughed behind cupped hands.

It was only because he was watching that Gwyn noticed the slight hitch in her step as her gaze landed on Cuchulainn.

"Morrigan," Gwyn said, drawing her attention.

"Winter King," she lifted her chin and settled her arms across her chest. "You sent out word," she said. "All were invited."

A burst of giggles from Creiddylad made faint lines appear around the Morrigan's eyes and mouth.

"Yes," he said. "I did."

"Well," she shrugged. "Here I am."

"And it's so good to see you," Creiddylad called.

The Morrigan's mouth settled into a flat line. Gwyn stepped forward, between her and the other woman.

"Macha," he said. She started, staring at him with wide eyes. "I'm glad you came. We could not have won without you."

She made a vague motion with her hand. "It was nothing. The Dreamer did most of the work," her expression gentled for a moment. "No one has called me Macha in an age."

"It is a new era," he nodded. "New things should be tried."

A hint of a smile curled her mouth. "Perhaps you are right," she said.

"Morrigan!" Cuchulainn called, making Gwyn wince. Of all the men his flower maiden could have invited…

"What, you bloody hound?" The Morrigan turned, settling her hands on her hips. "I've as much right to be here as you, you daft git. Don't make me come over there!"

The general gasp from the women made Gwyn stuff a knuckle to his lips. Cuchulainn's open-mouthed gape was as amusing as Lugh's wide eyes.

"And you!" The Morrigan turned to Alisanos, who jumped, looked around and then pointed at himself. "You are going to get the rest of the architecture crew over here, right now, do you hear me?"

"B-B-But –"

"I'm building a house," she folded her arms over her chest again. "A keep, a castle, whatever strikes my fancy. You lot are going to help. Run along like a good lad, before I get testy."

Alisanos squeaked and vanished.

She turned back to Gwyn, who had lost the battle against laughter. "You're right," she said with a smile. "It is time for a change."

Gwyn's knees gave out on him, dumping him to his rear on the grass. Erin rushed up and threw her arms around him, joining his laughter.

The Morrigan's smile held no trace of death at all that day. Even when Cuchulainn got enough brains together to speak to her without stuttering.

It was a very good day.

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The Great Hall was full to the brim with people. The swift reconstruction of the castle had gifted them with a number of families attending the feast. None of the students had been lost in the terrible storms that had struck the castle, but it had been close. Far too close.

Albus kept one hand on the Head Table as he let his gaze wander the long hall. He picked out Harry, squished between Draco Malfoy and a blushing Neville, all of them bent close, listening to whatever Pansy Parkinson was saying. They broke apart laughing, even Harry, whose pale face worried Albus more than he cared to say.

The world rocked a bit as his equilibrium tottered – holding the wards had been too much. The castle had almost drained him dry in the final hours of their hold against chaos. It had been a nearer thing that he had cared to admit, even to Minerva.

All of his Houses were full to the brim, each full of life and laughter, some tears and sorrow. All of them had been touched in some way by the terrible wave of destruction that had almost consumed them all. It would take time, time and effort, for them to return to some sense of equilibrium in the world.

The Black Family had claimed the end of the Slytherin table, stealing glances down towards Harry every chance they got. The decision had weighed heavily on Albus, but he had failed Harry enough for one lifetime. He had transferred guardianship to Severus, knowing the Potions Master cared for Harry almost as much as Albus did, despite his protests to the contrary. The one stipulation Albus included was that Harry would be allowed to see his godfather and his family once a year at the very least. Albus still had hopes for the fledgling families. He could not help it. It was his nature.

"Albus," Minerva whispered to him. "Your speech."

"Oh, yes. Of course, forgive me," he raised a hand for silence. It descended over the hall, all eyes turning towards the Head Table.

"My ladies and gentlemen," he began. "These last few years have tested us all beyond any measure. A Dark Lord defeated. A Dark God cast down and contained," he nodded to Harry, who seemed to sink in on himself under all the wondering stares.

"Moreover," he continued. "Moreover, magic has returned to the world at such levels that have not been seen since the time of Merlin. Ancient heroes walk the land, creating new legends for all to learn. The gods have returned, all the gods," he smiled out over the shifting crowd. "And they have vowed to do their best by us. Yes," he nodded. "We have seen the end of one era and helped birth the next. A wonderful job to you all." He held up his cup and toasted them. All scrambled to follow his lead.

"As it is the end of one era, another must come to an end as well," he said as he lowered his cup. The teachers shifted around him. "I, Albus Dumbledore, am stepping down as Headmaster of Hogwarts." He held up a hand, quieting the rush of whispers. "I am an old man," he laughed. "And my time has come to step down. As such, I ask you all to raise a glass as we toast to Minerva McGonagall, the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The cheer that rose up drowned out Minerva's gurgle of surprise. Albus drank deep, smacking his lips together at the heady taste of pumpkin juice.

Yes, it was the perfect way to end a day.

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Harry curled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. The Infirmary was empty, save for Harry, who had been relegated to the empty hall for one more night.

Draco had been sent back to his own bed on pain of death by Madam Pomfrey. Once the nurse had figured out that Draco was all growl and no fire, she had booked no protest from the blond. Harry had the night alone, for the first time since waking in Hogwarts.

A full moon had risen up over the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had been going out daily to contact the centaurs, but none had been found. Many of the magical creatures in the forest had been injured in the storms. Harry had heard that Charlie Weasley had come back from Romania to head a magical creatures team to help the ones they could find.

Sirius still had not come to see Harry. It hurt, in the way an old scar hurt, that his godfather had not tried, at least, to seek out Harry and…he didn't know. He wanted an apology. He wanted the man to hug him and have the last nine months all be a giant blur, a nightmare he could dismiss out of hand. Auror Rayne – well, Dr. Rayne, now, the man had given up his post as an Auror and become a counselor full time – Rayne said Harry had to learn to accept the truth, that pretending that it all had been a dream was a dangerous thing to do. Harry was sure he had a valid, scientific reasoning for it. Pretending still sounded grand to Harry.

The deep window seats were new, a present from the Zabini family construction business to Madam Pomfrey. The head nurse had gotten teary-eyed at the gesture. Harry had waited until Pomfrey had gone to sleep before slipping out of bed and crawling onto the window seat and wrapping his blanket around his shoulders.

This far from the gathered students meant Harry's world was stable. Without Draco, the press of the Great Hall would have been unbearable. Dumbledore's little surprise would have triggered a whole attack if Harry had not had one hand gripping Draco's the entire time.

No, in a way, Harry was grateful that Dumbledore had signed Harry's guardianship to Professor Snape. They had already talked about his seventh year, with Severus – he had insisted Harry call him Severus – with Severus laying out all of Harry's options. Harry was sure he could not take another year of study at Hogwarts, not in his condition. Severus had urged him to think it over, but had not pushed, respecting Harry's opinion in a way he was sure Sirius never would have.

It hurt to think that of his godfather, but Harry had to accept it. Rayne had cautioned him that there was no such thing as the perfect person and Harry had had to come to his own realizations about how he had idolized his Sirius, placed him on such a high pedestal that he could do aught but fail. Harry still had a lot of things to work out with Rayne and Severus had promised to take Harry to the man's office at least once a week, or more if he chose.

As for the rest of the world…Harry was more than happy to wash his hands of it. He'd meant it when he said he had retired. No more, he nodded, tucking his chin to his knees. No more world saving. I am done. No more. Not even consulting – well, maybe consulting. Perhaps. If they asked nicely.

A shadow passed over him. He looked up into dark eyes and messy hair. He let go of his legs and lunged forward. The Morrigan caught him in a fierce hug, driving the air from his lungs.

"My dream child," she whispered into his hair. "Did you think I would not come?" She smoothed a hand over the back of his neck and arranged them to sit, side-by-side, Harry's smaller form tucked tight under her arm.

"I missed you," he said.

"I've been waiting for when you were alone," she tapped his nose. "I have news for you."

"What?"

She ducked her head and made a show of glancing around the room. "I've started a house."

"You did?"

"You should have seen their faces!" She hugged him close. "Dream child," she said, sobering. "You are welcome there, any time."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Thank you," he said, voice thick as he blinked away the sting in his eyes. "Thank you so much."

"You and me, child," her wry smile curled her lips. She held up her left hand, a single, black feather appearing between her fingers. "You shall always know the way. You have walked the narrow path and come out the other side." She pressed it into his hand. "We are not done yet, you and I. We shall see years yet between us."

"I know," Harry curled his fist around the feather, bringing it to his chest. The futures flashed in front of his eyes. "I've seen it too."

End Chapter Fifty-Four