Today, Hogwarts is filled with excited chatters and noises. Not even the corpses laid on its ancient floors, debris and rubble scattered (which Argus Filch attempts to clean up to no avail), or walls destroyed can dampen the energy and mood buzzing around the hallowed halls of this sacred institution. The important thing is that Lord Voldemort was no more.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord as people now liked to call him was hoping for some peace and quiet after being passed around, wizards and witches being exuberant and emotional in their greetings and congratulations, of gratitude and 'how-could-we-ever-repay-yous', of hugs and kisses, and ruffling of hair.
Victory is short-lived but its effects long-lasting. They've won, and they will start rebuilding. But no amount of rebuilding and moving on, of processing grief, can fill the holes and shoes of those they've lost in the war. Harry reckons he couldn't, not even when he's dead. Him whose burden to carry was great, felt that it has lifted a considerable amount but something still feels heavy. Weary and still tired even after a long rest at Gryffindor Tower and Kreacher bringing him a sandwich, Harry covered himself with the Invisibility Cloak and slipped out of the Great Hall once more.
Mindlessly, Harry wandered around Hogwarts, not knowing where to go, until he found himself staring at the Thestral herd just beyond Hagrid's Hut. The Thestrals noticed him, their eyes flashing dangerously for a moment, before it softened with recognition. It seems Hagrid and Luna was right about Thestrals being clever, Harry thought, seeing as they fought giants and Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts, before going nearer to observe them.
For a moment, Harry's mind was clear of anything, mindlessly watching the Thestrals as they eat, groom, regroup, and play with each other. Until he heard footsteps behind him, which disrupted his peaceful solitude. Well, this has been my life since I was eleven, Harry thought darkly. He heaved a deep breath, letting it out, preparing for another 'thank-you-mister-Potter-thank-you-thank-you' spiel.
Don't get him wrong, he's happy that people are happy, but sometimes he gets overwhelmed with these kinds of expression. Harry's face fell as he realized that he should expect more to come in the following days. He hadn't realized that whoever it was had made it beside him, standing, while Harry sat cross-legged.
Harry startled to get up, only to be prevented by the man.
"It's alright, no need to get up on my account," a man, a Ravenclaw student based on his robes, with short, curly hair framing his rectangular-face said. His cheekbones pronounced, his eyes the shade of a tree's bark, and his top-heavy lips stretched into a kind smile.
The man settled down beside him, and Harry was tiny bit suspicious of why this person is here. Apparently, his suspicions were clear on his face as the man reacted with a barely suppressed laughter.
"Calm down, Potter, your face shouldn't frown that much. You've vanquished Voldemort," the man quipped. Harry blinked in shock at him saying Voldemort's moniker. Even after his death, the people who came to thank him still called him You-Know-Who.
"Who are you," asked Harry.
"Victor Rosier, seventh-year Ravenclaw," Victor replied.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "I'd have known you if we were in the same year."
Victor only threw him what can only be defined as an amused exasperation, "I suppose. But how many Ravenclaws in school do you know? Luna's a given, knowing she's been one of your closest friends. Cho Chang, sure," he paused, quirking his lip, teasing Harry about his ex, "Padma Patil, who went out with Weasley; Michael Corner, who went out with the girl Weasley; then Anthony and Terry, but other than that, who else?"
Harry remained silent; he couldn't think of anyone from Ravenclaw aside from those people.
Victor gave him a rueful smile before he continued, "I kept to myself and you kept to yourself, too Potter. You hated the attention, that much was clear, we can see it in the way you act or talk. Very animated to those who are close to you. To others, not so much. Unfortunately for you, it's something that's been carved to you like how Voldemort's curse gave you that scar.
"And so, even if you didn't bare your heart to everyone around you, even if you kept close to your chest, we hear stories of bravery, of compassion, and of love. You didn't hesitate to choose the people, who have both failed and loved you, over yourself, even if you had a reason to. You had a choice, did you not? It speaks so much about your character."
Harry's forehead creased. That's nice and all but what does he need from him or why is he saying that? It unnerved Harry for a moment because those words seem like words that come out from Albus Dumbledore's mouth. Harry kept his mouth shut should Victor have something more to say.
They settled into a comfortable silence, with only the wind howling and the grass rustling around them. The clacking of hooves as the Thestrals walk can also be heard amidst the quiet.
"Magnificent creatures, aren't they," Victor murmured, his eyes trained on the Thestrals as one of the foals made its way to him. The mother was at its heels, following the young Thestral.
Victor's face softens as he traces his hands on the foal's head who settled in front of him, "Hey there, little fella."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed.
Apparently, this was enough for Victor to answer, "I help Luna and Hagrid feed them when I have time, in case you're wondering. I even got Headmaster Snape's permission to help care for them with Professor Grubbly-Plank when Hagrid had to hide in the mountains. That's why I'm not afraid to get close."
Harry winced at Snape being called Headmaster. Even if he were working against Lord Voldemort all this time, he couldn't just yet shake the bad feelings he had to his late Potions professor. Luckily, Victor didn't catch this, although he sighed.
The foal now ran back to its mother and Victor stood up to followed. Harry was quite content to merely watch.
"It's a shame, really. I'm pretty sure the rumors of Thestrals being omens of death will perpetuate, now that a lot of people will see them for the first time what with seeing a lot of people die just hours ago," Victor said, now caressing the Thestral mother's head.
"That's unfair and illogical," Harry quipped.
Victor only offered a huff and a rueful smile, "Wizards aren't exactly logical, mate."
Silence again stretched before Victor spoke again, lowly, he asked, "Say, Potter, if you have the means to change everything, would you?"
Startled, Harry snapped his head back towards Victor. Green exhausted orbs met those of haunted browns. Time slowed as they continue to stare at each other's eyes, Harry not able to turn away but also not being able to muster a response.
The question took him aback. It was loaded, it was heavy. A question that frequently crosses his mind but never completely ruminated about or answered. No, Harry, did not entertain that intrusive and dangerous thought, it would have been foolish since it wasn't possible, was it?
Before Harry could respond, Victor broke of the trance and faced the Thestral once more, "You needn't answer that, it's rhetorical. Stupid question, really. Very foolish of me."
Harry attempted to speak but he was cut off by someone calling his name. He turned and saw Hermione approaching him. She was with Luna, staring dreamily, and smiling at Harry.
"HARRY! There you are! I was worried something bad had happened to you," Hermione exclaimed, her eyes frantic with worry.
"Told you he's gonna be here," Luna chimed nonchalantly. Hermione seemed to be exasperated mixed with fondness and annoyance.
"I know, and thank you, Luna. I just worry," Hermione sighed, as her shoulders sagged in relief. Harry appeared to both be confused and amused by this display.
Harry retorted, amused, "Hermione, the war's over. What are you so worried about?"
The witch only replied with a hard glare that Harry's smirk faltered. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the possibility of apologists and remaining supporters having your head out for revenge!"
Harry winced. He did not consider that. But he took on Voldemort alone, he's pretty sure he can take on his supporters if ever they haven't yet fled and moved out of the country.
Hermione's eyes then considerably softened.
"I know you can take care of yourself, Harry James Potter. I just worry."
Harry gave her a look of understanding and soft smile. Hermione did worry for and about him all the time. It was endearing, and very Hermione.
"Now, come on, dinner's being served and everyone's worried about you," Hermione fussed, grabbing Harry's arms and making her way to the castle.
Harry reluctantly followed, taking one last look to Victor who was busying himself with the Thestral herd. He'd have thought Luna would stay to pet the Thestrals but she followed him and Hermione. On their way back, Hermione asked, "Harry, why were you with Victor Rosier?"
Harry looked at Hermione for a moment, halting, before replying, "How do you know him?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Only you wouldn't have any idea who our year mates are. Victor Rosier, sorted in Ravenclaw during our first year, consistently getting high marks. I'd have to say he was more difficult to beat than Draco Malfoy in exams. Not a very social person, though, and keeps to himself mostly. Isn't that right, Luna?"
Harry found himself chuckling, only Hermione would have known someone because they were smart. Meanwhile, Luna nodded.
"Victor doesn't really participate in social functions that much, but he's kind enough to help me find my missing things when my dormmates would hide them. He's also fond of tending to magical creatures. He's the odd one out in Ravenclaw though, saying he likes Hagrid. The Ravenclaws aren't that fond of Hagrid because of his chaotic curriculum, but Victor doesn't seem to mind. I'd wager he still likes Professor Grubbly-Plank's lessons more.
"He's also discreet enough to escape the Carrows' ire. He's part of the DA's second incarnation but he never hid in the Room of Requirement because he thought someone should stay outside to look after the other students. Neville was reluctant but he knew Victor was right. He wouldn't have been made Head Boy if he wasn't responsible."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up as Luna disclosed that Victor Rosier was the Head Boy. "He was Head Boy? But Anthony Goldstein was the prefect in our year."
Luna shrugged, but her eyes were full of mirth as she continued, "Yes, and he's very good at it too. And you don't have to be a prefect to be a Head Boy. Now that I think about it, Professor Snape might have intentionally put him there, seeing how he gets mostly into Pansy Parkinson's nerves."
It was Harry's turn to furrow his eyebrows. He hasn't yet forgotten Pansy's exclamation in the Great Hall. He could understand better now, though. The girl was just desperate to live, a Slytherin way of getting things done but he didn't have to like it.
"What has Pansy got to do with this?"
Luna stared at him before answering, "She's the Head Girl."
If it were possible for one's eyes to fall out of its socket, Hermione's would have done so by now as hers bulged out with this information.
"That cow was Head Girl?"
"Yeah, that's why it's so funny. Pansy aiming to please Professor Snape and the Carrows, while Victor was blatantly ignoring instructions. He even helped cover for us when we attempted to sneak in the Headmaster's Office when we attempted to steal the sword of Gryffindor," Luna recalled.
Hermione looked shocked about a Head Person going around rules and breaking them, but she couldn't complain. Not when she would have done the same had she been around. She rounded back on Harry, "So, why were you together, earlier?"
Harry shrugged, "He just asked me a question, nothing of importance, that's all."
Hermione seemed to be satisfied by the answer and stopped asking as they continue to move forward towards the Great Hall. But something was nagging Harry in the back of his mind. Even if he tried to convince himself, he knew that was not nothing of importance as he put it. He knew there was something more, and his gut-feel was usually right.