Hermione watched her bestfriend with worry. She watched him mend his beloved Holly Wand and snap the Elder Wand and throw it off the viaduct into the depths below. She watched him turn back to the school, picking his way between the debris and rubble, occasionally clearing bits out of the way, occasionally repairing something, until he stood in the courtyard, surveying the damage. A scene of death and despair. Aurors and staff from St Mungo's had arrived and were helping with the dead. Out here, it was all Death-Eaters and Voldemort's army, no one on their side had died since Harry sacrificed himself.
He looked different, she decided. Despite the clear exhaustion, he looked strong, perhaps because the weight of these last few years had finally been lifted, perhaps because he no longer carried a part of Voldemort in him, perhaps because he'd won even though he didn't look like a victor. But he never looked like the typical victor to her, she knew that much, he would always be 'just Harry' to her. She wondered if they should talk. Certain things hadn't been discussed since Ron had left them in the Forest of Dean and now the dynamic within the trio had shifted again and they all knew it.
She watched him, trying to unravel what had changed in him in the last twenty-four hours. She realised he no longer seemed wild and dangerous as he looked in the build up to the Battle. She realised that he'd spent the last eight months or more gearing up to kill someone. He hadn't discussed it with either her or Ron and she supposed, from the outside, they'd kind of taken it for granted that it was what he had to do. Now, she realised how much that knowledge had taken its toll on her bestfriend. Living together in such close proximity, she hadn't seen that change creep across his character but now he'd shrugged off that persona, he looked noticeably different. But he looked older too. Older than his seventeen years. She couldn't help worrying her bottom lip as she watched him clearly deciding what to do next. He was forming a plan, ready to take charge again. He began to create a pathway through the courtyard by clearing or repairing what lay in front of him. It seemed effortless for him.
Ron was holding her hand tightly, watching too, that hadn't really let go of each other since they kissed in the Chamber of Secrets. There was a feeling, an innate knowledge that this was right for them.
Ron called out, 'what yer doing, mate? There's plenty of time for this.'
'We need to have a safe place to bring those kids when they come out of the Slytherin Common Room so their parents and carers can collect them. They can't go in the Great Hall. I want a safe place for them here.' He suddenly sunk to his knees. 'Oh Gods, how many of them are going to be refugees? How many of them are going to be orphaned?'
Minerva was there, standing straight and tall. 'We'll look after them, we'll sort it out.' She summoned over the nearest Auror and asked for help and it was with a curt nod that a team was assembled and she and Harry marched off to find Blaise and to go down to the Common Room to inform everyone of what was going on.
It was a long and awful day dotted with bittersweet moments. Reunions of families who appeared as soon as the news spread. Others were asked to come. Others had joined the fight as soon as they heard and were already on hand. Some parents did not come; some had no child to take home... Harry was the one who led Mr Creevey into the Great Hall to where the body of his son was laid out. Ron took Lavender Brown's family in. Hermione and Neville had recovered Severus Snape's body from the boathouse. Harry held his godson in his arms for the first time when Minerva supported Andromeda Tonks into the Hall. Fifty had died in total, not including the Death-Eaters. They quickly became called the 'Fallen Fifty' and their ranks included students, staff and teachers, parents, the Order, and Aurors.
Eventually, Kingsley Shacklebolt took charge, hurriedly appointed as the new Minster for Magic after it was confirmed that Voldemort had killed Pius Thicknesse, despite him being one of his own. Few arrests were made that day, it wasn't the priority, though Gregory Goyle appeared at some moment and handed himself over to the nearest Auror. He stammered that he'd been hiding in one of the empty classrooms since the fire in the Room of Requirement. The Carrows had escaped during the battle, there had been other priorities other than standing guard over them. Narcissa and Draco were left alone after Minerva and Harry stepped in.
Harry had spent a large amount of the day batting off questions; he didn't want to talk to anyone about what had just happened. It wasn't a day for going over his actions, it was a day for focusing on what was in front of them, for dealing with the aftermath, for looking after the fallen and their families, for looking after the survivors too. Several members of the Press were escorted off the premises. Harry threatened Rita Skeeter that she'd go the same way as Voldemort if she even took one step near him with her Quikquil.
It was Kingsley who, as he held her firmly by the elbow, announced, 'I will be releasing an official statement in Hogsmeade at 4pm, if any members of the Press on the premises would kindly wait down there in The Three Broomsticks.' He also added, rather quietly, that he had no qualms in arresting any journalist who pestered Mr Potter or acted without respect and integrity towards those who'd just been through an extremely traumatic experience. He led her down to the school gates. 'Don't come back up to the school, Ms Skeeter, even in your illegal beetle form, or you'll find yourself being kept in a jar in Azkaban.'
Part of the reason Harry wanted to avoid the questions was because he had so many himself, he felt like he didn't understand everything that had happened. Particularly the final duel. A lot had happened in that time after he'd leant into Riddle's face and taunted quietly, 'come on, Tom. Let's end this the way we started it... together...' When he grabbed two fistfuls of his robes and pulled him into the void, he'd been more than physically connected to Riddle: as they plummeted downwards, twisting crazily, Riddle had Apparated them in a plume of smoke. Harry had mimicked him. The Disapparation had changed into the two of them flying, they defied the laws of magic as they entwined and morphed monstrously; a single screaming beast one minute, adversaries the next, battling as they gripped each other, until, hurtling downward toward the courtyard below... they'd burst apart and rolled onto their feet to face each other that final time. Harry had no doubts that he had learnt something powerful in that brief moment. He had no doubts that he could perform the same magic, if he so desired. He had no doubts that he could fly again like that. And it scared him.
And that was before he even got to the part where he killed Riddle. He purposely locked that part away, not thinking about it. Not thinking that he'd killed Tom Riddle; not thinking that he'd killed another person. Not thinking about how he'd forced Riddle's killing curse back into the Elder Ward, back into Riddle himself, before Riddle, unable to fight the wand's allegiance to Harry, had finally let go as if stung. Not thinking about how the wand had spiralled, turning end-over-end towards him. Not thinking about how the Elder Wand felt at home in his hand, like it belonged...
Not thinking about the fact that he'd probably survived the killing curse a third time. No one was supposed to be able to shield that Unforgiveable, yet the light streaming from Elder Wand had definitely been a very particular green as it hit Harry's counter-defence spell.
It felt like a long time before Harry and Minnie finally walked down the hill from the school and into Hogsmeade. He stood by Kingsley's side with Ron and Mione and Minnie during the Press Release but he said very little and certainly didn't give away any answers.
He was grateful to finally unlock the door to the little cottage and step through the front door, shutting out the noise of the world. And it was with huge relief when he finally stepped out from under a long, deep cleansing shower and he and Minnie both sat down at the kitchen table together, though Harry knew Minnie would start asking questions, especially when she retrieved a bottle of Oak-Aged Single-Malt Whisky from the cupboard and poured them both a snifter.
'I think we both deserve this,' she said with a smile, her eyes never leaving his face. 'I don't want you to ever put me through anything like that again.'
He understood. He had thought for a time that he'd never see her again; that he wouldn't come out of this alive.
The first question that she asked was to become the most commonly asked question and the hardest one to answer. He had talked about this with Ron and Mione while they were at Shell Cottage and they were still undecided how much should become public knowledge. Even from his initial conversation with Minnie raised doubts about who he told.
'Are you able, now, to tell me what it is you were doing while you were away?' she asked after studying him, drinking in the details of his face.
'Voldemort split his soul, he made six... seven Horcruxes. Dumbledore tasked me with finding them and destroying them so he could finally be killed.'
'Horcruxes! But that's...'
'...dark and dangerous and very rare magic that very few people know about. It's also something I'm not sure if people should be made aware of or not. The diary that possessed Ginny in her first year, that was the first one to be destroyed. We weren't aware of what it was back then, I don't think that even Lucius Malfoy was aware of what he was giving Ginny. Then the Gaunt ring. It was cursed and when Dumbledore foolishly decided to wear it before he destroyed the Horcrux, he essentially cursed himself.'
'So, Severus was telling the truth.'
'Yes. He knew he was dying but chose not to say because it served his purposes.'
'But that poor child...'
'I assume you mean Draco's year of torture. Yes, but Dumbledore tended to use us all to serve his purposes or rather for the purposes of the Greater Good. In some ways he was as selfish and self-serving a bastard as Riddle...'
'Harry!' she warned.
'You'll see...' Harry shrugged. 'Though perhaps it was a necessarily severe lesson for Draco, one he needed to go through to see the truth. The night Dumbledore died we were back from retrieving the third Horcrux. A locket that had once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It turned out to be a fake that had been exchanged by Regulus Black. Mundungus then stole it from Grimmauld Place and it ended up around Dolores Umbridge's neck. That was why we broke into the Ministry. But even when we had the Horcrux, we didn't know how to destroy it. Not until Severus sent the Sword to us.'
'I don't understand how he found you?'
'Ironically, Mione had hidden Phineas Black's portrait in her handbag so he couldn't report to Severus our location when we were at Grimmauld Place. Phineas reluctantly fed us information about what was happening at Hogwarts and we must have let slip that night where she and I were...'
'She and you? Where was Ron?'
'We had a falling out. He left us for a bit. It wasn't his fault, the Locket Horcrux was playing with our minds and our major problem was not knowing where Voldemort might have hidden the Horcruxes as well as what they might be. He got frustrated and thought... well, he left us, for about a month but managed to pick up trace through Dumbledore's Deluminator. Anyway, we worked out that Voldemort he liked items of significance, possibly connected with all the Founders but we had no idea what or where. Dumbledore's clues were obscure at best but mostly non-existent. When we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix completely lost it about us having the sword, she thought we'd been in her vault and was petrified we'd taken something else. Scared enough not to alert the Dark Lord that we were at the Manor. It was obvious she had something else in there...'
'Hence the break in?'
'Yes. As soon as we made it into her vault, I could sense it. Turned out to be Helga Hufflepuff's cup. Voldemort lost control when he realised we were hunting the Horcruxes and suddenly everything happened very fast. He couldn't believe we knew about them but it opened an opportunity to break into his mind. The last two were Nagini and the Lost Diadem hidden here at Hogwarts. It became a race against him to get here and destroy the diadem before he came to retrieve it. That finally left us with the problem of Nagini, which Neville so deftly handled...'
'But that's only six...' Minerva's mouth went dry as she pointed out the obvious. She had a horrible feeling what was coming next.
'Yes, there was a reason I had a connection with Voldemort and a reason I could sense the Horcruxes so violently.'
'Oh goodness, please, no.'
'The prophecy: "the Dark Lord will mark him as equal but he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives". He quite literally marked me as his equal by transferring a part of his soul and therefore his magic into me. The power was his, as well as mum's Sacrificial Protection. For him to die, I had to die too...'
'You had to die too...' she repeated quietly.
'At the right moment, yes. Dumbledore was keeping me alive so I could die at the right moment.'
'How long had you known?'
'I suspected fairly early on after learning about the Horcruxes but it wasn't until we started destroying them that I really knew. Each time I felt it pull on me, the pain was more excruciating each time, but it was obvious that Ron and Mione weren't affected in the same way.'
'That's why you went into the Forbidden Forest alone?'
'Yes. I didn't think I'd survive but I knew that if I sacrificed myself, I would protect you all. I just needed to be sure that Nagini was killed and then Voldemort could be destroyed like any other mortal.'
'But he had the Elder Wand. If you'd died, he would have had its allegiance.'
'Yes. But the Elder Wand doesn't make anyone invincible. We know that from its history. Anyway, I made the choice to come back. It wasn't over. He'd simply destroyed the seventh Horcrux that he didn't even know he'd made.'
'You made a choice?'
'Yes, I was at a junction where I could decide to go on or return. The part of Voldemort's soul from me was there too and it was definitely not coming back. Maybe I needed to see that. I met Dumbledore there, we talked, and he told me I had a choice. So I came back to finish the job.'
'So, you survived the killing curse twice because the first time he made you into a Horcrux and the second time he destroyed the same Horcrux?'
'I'm guessing so but I don't want to experiment to see if it's another reason,' Harry smiled ruefully, definitely not thinking about that stream of green light that he'd countered and forced back into Riddle's soul.
'No, indeed,' said Minnie, grimly.
'You know, Quirrell was also a Horcrux.'
'Good grief,' said Minnie.
They sipped their whisky together.
'My problem is what to tell people. Do I explain about the Horcruxes?'
'Or the Deathly Hallows?' she added.
'So, you know about them all?'
'No. After Severus said you had the Elder Wand; I presumed your father's cloak might actually be one of them...'
'Yes. And the Gaunt ring held the Resurrection Stone. Dumbledore bequeathed it to me within the first Golden Snitch I caught.'
'So, you possessed all three?' she gasped, reaching for the bottle to refill their glasses.
'I did, yes.'
'Perhaps that's why you could choose to come back.'
'Perhaps. It would be another explanation of a power I possessed that Voldemort didn't understand. He'd been hunting the Elder Wand for a while, he thought it was the only way to defeat me.'
'Severus explained that Voldemort thought he had the Wand's allegiance but in fact Draco did.'
'Yes, and I won it from Draco. Voldemort never realised. Which means there are a number of ways to interpret the prophecy but prophecies are always so bloody ambiguous.'
'You been spending too much time with Ron Weasley.'
Harry smiled. 'Yes, and I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep without him snoring in my ear. Poor Mione.'
'Are they soulmates?'
'Unconfirmed yet but probably.'
'And you and Ginevra?'
He paused. 'I don't think so.'
She nodded once. 'Do you intend to find out for certain?'
'Mum!!!'
She was amused that he flushed. 'Just checking whether I need to have "the talk" with you, teach you the spells, you know.'
'Oh Merlin. NO!!'
'Okay,' she smiled.
'Mum?' he said quietly.
'Yes?'
'You wouldn't mind if I was in a same-sex relationship, would you?'
She looked at him, surprised. 'Oh darling, of course not. I just thought you were with Ginevra. Have you met someone else?'
'I guess I'm with Ginny but I'm not sure. And sometimes, well, I just think, well, know I like both sexes...'
'Well, you can be bisexual, it's perfectly fine to like men and women.'
'I know. I should've talked to you before but there were other things to think about when I was at Hogwarts. I've known for a long time I didn't mind what gender my soulmate will be or how they identify. I talked to Remus about it, a long time ago. He really helped. You see, I guessed about him and Sirius. It helped to talk to someone who, you know... And I've kissed a boy, so I know that I don't mind... I've been with a woman so I know I like the female sex too...'
She raised an eyebrow but he skirted over the details.
'...Don't look at me like that, I thought I might be dead before the year was out, I didn't want to die a virgin,' he said defensively.
'And I thought I'd brought you up with more respect for others than to just sleep with a random woman for your own gratification, how did she feel about that?'
'It wasn't like that. It was more complex and very definitely mutual and she might just have been leading the way but I'm not entirely sure because we were both in the same boat...' He snapped his mouth shut because he was wittering and had just said too much and it was probably bloody obvious. 'Gods, this is excruciating... Anyway, I really enjoyed it but I sometimes look at men and think... you know... And I had of lot of night watches to think about these things and to really question my feelings. I suppose impending death makes one question a lot of things in life. And when I was away, I really wished I'd talked to you about it before I left.'
'Yes, well, I suggest you give yourself a bit of time and don't rush anything with Ginevra. She might not be as... worldly... as you are.'
'I rather think she's more worldly than me.'
'Gosh, really?'
'Mum!'
'Okay, okay. I won't ask. She's still a student so its highly inappropriate.'
'I suppose, if I were to label it, it would be pansexual. I don't seem to mind; I just want to have time to find out. Most boys my age... well, I've been a bit preoccupied by Dark Lords...'
'...who were doing Dark Lordy things...' she smiled fondly to herself.
'Pardon?'
'Just something Severus said after you escaped the Manor. For the briefest of moments, he let his guard down. Once you find your soulmate...'
'I know, it won't matter.'
'And I won't mind if they're male, female, non-binary, trans, or identify as an alien, so long as you're happy.'
'How do you know about aliens?'
'I should clip you around the back of the head, young man. Now, as fascinating as the details of your sex life are, I suggest we should retire and get some sleep. I can't remember the last time I slept and I think it's catching up on me.'
Harry gratefully crept into his bed in his little room in their cottage and was asleep before his head had hit the pillow.
He awoke early. Force of habit, he supposed, after so many mornings waking up with the sun.
He couldn't help thinking over his conversation with Minnie, a little mortified that he'd been so open, maybe he should think about how much whisky he could take. But he was also relieved to have spoken to her about his sexuality. He and Mione had talked a bit but not really about the different feelings that were rattling around his head, he certainly hadn't told her that he looked at, well, everyone with an interested eye. Perhaps she wouldn't be very impressed if he said that to her...
The situation between him and Mione had... changed. He supposed, in a way, it was inevitable that it happened but neither of them quite knew how to deal with the fallout. When Ron had left them, it had been difficult; they had felt so low and alone and like failures and the Horcrux was playing with their minds. They both knew how Ron felt about Mione even though he'd never said but, in that instant, it felt like he'd deserted her and had given up on them. It wasn't an excuse for what happened next but sometimes it's easy to make rash and imperfect decisions in life in the heat of the moment and based on the wrong emotions. That night it had felt so natural for Harry to hold her against his body when they danced in the tent to 'O, Children' as it played on the little radio. It was a moment of unification and hope on the journey towards his own death; it felt right to feel her soft cheek against his, to kiss her gently, to offer her his love. They'd needed each other in that moment and the kiss had easily turned to more as they edged their way to the bed. He still wasn't sure who was leading who as clothes were clumsily discarded and they explored each other's bodies headily.
Afterwards, a sense of shame and guilt hung over the occurrence for an eon. Not shame for what they had done but shame that they had betrayed Ron. It was exasperated by what the Locket Horcrux had shown Ron. But would Harry change it if he could go back? Honestly, probably not. They lost their virginity to each other and nothing can take that away from them. Mione was and always would be extremely special to Harry but it didn't stop him feeling guilty. He'd betrayed his bestmate who had, time and time again, stood by his side as they went through their adventures together.
He and Mione hadn't talked about that night in the tent. They both knew they should but they carried on as if it hadn't happened; they'd just packed up and moved on. And when Ron came back, they pretended everything was just the same as before. But, ever since, there was a sense of shared closeness between him and Mione that could never be taken away even though they both knew that anything between them wasn't meant to be and it wouldn't happen again. Occasionally they'd catch eyes, or a fleeting knowing look would pass between them, and whenever Nick Cave came on the radio, he was sure he blushed as much as she did. And now, Harry knew Mione and Ron had finally found each other and the writing was on the wall that they were soulmates. It was only a matter of time before they found that out for definite. He was truly happy for them but he also felt that something was not right and he'd found himself watching closely whenever they were all together.
And for him, well, Ginny had kissed him on the stairs outside the Great Hall. He supposed he was meant to be dating her in some unspoken agreement from the previous summer. He wasn't entirely sure; they hadn't had a chance to speak about it. He supposed that even though he'd started a thing with her before he left and even though he'd broken it off, it was still ambiguous. He should, perhaps, have not kissed her back yesterday. But with Gin, he suspected it was more about doing the 'right thing' with a massive dish of apathy, a glut of guilt, and a mound of Molly-pleasing on the side. He knew it was never destined to be.
He sighed and pushed himself out of bed to see what the day would bring.
First things on the list were a shave, a shower, breakfast, and a desperately needed haircut.
***