“Of house elves, of children’s tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.” – Albus Dumbledore to Harry Potter, in the Afterlife; (HP & the Deathly Hallows, by JKR. Bless her!)
***
I
Picking up the Pieces
Voldemort was no more.
Gone as well was the threat of living a life of fear, living a life in servitude under a Dark Lord, and everything that went with it.
But also missing were several students and a few teachers at what remained of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry – not to mention several windows, doors, floor tiles, staircases, and woodwork. From the front gates, the sight of the castle made one think of a small child who had gotten into a scrap with the schoolyard bully and come out of it with more than just a black eye and a bloody nose. Fortunately, however, several locals from Hogsmeade village had rounded up some witches and wizards skilled in magical construction. Their inspection that next day after the battle, as exhausted as they all were, had determined that the superstructure of the castle was indeed intact, and that aside from a few broken staircases and cracked walls, Hogwarts was in no danger of collapsing.
“Even with magic, though, it’s gonna take all bloody summer to fix her back up,” one of the inspectors had declared.
And so, thus assured that the roof wasn’t going to collapse on them all, those who were able bent all of their efforts to caring for the wounded – and seeing to the dead. The hospital wing filled up fast, and Madame Pomfrey called in reinforcements; those more critically injured were immediately transferred to St Mungo’s. The good news was, eventually, that no one else succumbed to their injuries from what was not being called “The Final Battle.”
That left the issue of funerals.
In the end, it was decided that they would have one mass outdoor funeral to honor the fallen. The fine May weather held clear, and the Hogwarts grounds had not seen such a large turnout since the last great Quidditch playoffs. In fact, it seemed as if almost every witch and wizard in the whole of Europe – and beyond – had come to attend the services. There were dress robes, of course, and costumes from foreign lands. There were even the parents of Muggleborns, dressed in suits, their children’s fears for themselves and their parents gone.
The Fat Friar, the Ghost of Hufflepuff House, presided over these services. He waxed eloquent about the bravery of those who had fought and died, and when he turned the services over to Acting Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt – who read the names of the fallen, one by one – there was not a dry eye to be found on the campus.
And with every name read, Harry Potter felt his heart breaking just a little bit more – even if he didn’t recognize some of the names.
But it was the names that he did recognize that tore at him.
“Colin Creevey,” the Minister read, and the first tear rolled down Harry’s cheek. Somewhere in the crowd, there was sobbing, and it sounded like a child.
And the Minister went on.
“Remus Lupin,” the Friar said, and the only slight comfort Harry could find was knowing that the last Marauder to fall must now be reunited with his friends.
“Nym-…I mean, Dora Tonks.” And was the Friar grinning just a bit? Harry had to wonder, as somewhere in the crowd, a baby began to cry.
Harry then braced himself, dreading the rapid approach to the letter “W” and what he knew he would hear.
“Fred Weasley.”
And as he was seated with the family, Harry held Ginny’s hand tightly as Mrs. Weasley broke down with a cry that Harry would remember hearing for the rest of his life.
“Oh, Fred, what the bloody hell will we do now?” George mumbled, his face streaked with tears and his expression lost as he held just as tightly to Angelina Johnson’s hand.
Harry didn’t remember much very much else of the service – only that he was enormously relieved when Shacklebolt turned things back over the Fat Friar, who did not call upon Harry to speak.
***
What will we do now?
That was exactly what Harry was thinking as he and his friends sat under the hoops of their beloved Quidditch pitch some days later, looking up at the battered castle and all wondering the same thing. All that remained of Dumbledore’s Army was there, having somehow gravitated to the spot for reasons unknown, almost as if drawn there by some force of which they weren’t consciously aware.
It was Ron who finally voiced the thought.
“So, where do we go from here?”
No one answered him for the longest time. No one seemed to know what to say. The damage had been so terrible, and there were so many wounded and dead to think about.
And then there were the walking wounded, they all realized, as they just sat there – much closer together than they normally would have sat.
“I just can’t leave it like this,” Harry mumbled, after what seemed quite a while. “It was the first place I ever really felt at home, you know, somewhere that I belonged.”
“You’re not saying we stay and help fix it, are you?” Ron exclaimed, “Harry, we’re not construction workers, you know?! That’s bloody mental!”
“I think it’s a lovely idea,” Hermione agreed with Harry, as she sat leaning on Ron. Ron, it seemed, didn’t mind at all.
“Oh, well, I suppose it MIGHT have some merit,” Ron backtracked, as Hermione playfully punched his arm.
“I think it’s fantastic!” Neville agreed. “They smashed up Greenhouse One pretty bad, you know?”
“Yes, we’re wide open for a nargle attack, you know,” Luna Lovegood agreed, from her place next to Neville. Everyone gave her a look, but Luna was as nonplussed as ever.
“Yeah, an’ maybe once she’s all fixed back up, we can get a proper Seventh Year education and really graduate?” Seamus Finnigan offered, “Take our NEWTS, an’ see what kinda jobs we’ll be wantin’?”
Ron gaped at him. Hermione beamed at him.
“Well, what else have we got to do?” Dean Thomas asked, “I mean, it’s not like I got any education this past term, you know?” He paused. “It’s kinda like getting your last, best year yanked out from under you, you know?”
“It won’t be quite the same, though,” Harry added, looking at them all and realizing that he honestly didn’t know the half of what Seamus, Dean, and Neville had been put through that year while trying to attend Hogwarts under the control of Dark Wizards. He shivered at the thought of DADA classes under Carrow, and actually being taught to do Unforgivable Curses. The one thing Crabbe was ever top of the class at, someone had told him.
Again, no one spoke for a while. When Harry got up to stretch, he felt the need to do…something. The problem was, he just wasn’t sure what.
“Let’s have a look around, you know, sort of take in the damage?” he asked uncertainly.
And his friends followed him.
They were just examining the fringe of the Forbidden Forest, with Harry showing them the path to the clearing where he’d offered himself up, when a CRACK! behind them made them all jump, wands at the ready.
Standing there was Kreacher the house elf, and he did not look pleased.
“Where is you going?” He demanded of them all. “We have lunch ready!”
“Thank you, Kreacher!” Ron smiled at him, as they all followed the house elf back to the castle.
“Amazing how he’s changed so,” Hermione whispered to Harry. “Do you think he’ll stay, or want to go back to Grimmauld Place?”
“Kreacher will always serve the noble House of Black, if he can,” the elf stated, apparently having overheard Hermione, who blushed. “Kreacher was wrong before, for so long, and he didn’t realize that until he learned of what his dear master Regulus was doing. Until he learned of what Harry Potter was doing, too!” Then the elf sighed heavily. “But the noble House of my Masters, sadly, is all gone. All that remain are Dark Wizards and Witches, no one fit for Kreacher to serve anymore. They all wanted serve the Dark One,” the elf said quietly, “The one who killed Master.”
“Hey!” Harry exclaimed, “Sirius left the place to ME, remember? Not that I want it or need it, but I’d think we can work something out?”
“Kreacher never even apologized to Harry Potter and his brave friends,” the elf realized, suddenly looking very ashamed of himself. “Can they forgive a foolish old house elf?”
Of them all, it was Hermione who first smiled at him and offered him her hand. Ron flinched, probably thinking that Kreacher would bite her or something. After all, they hadn’t been on the best terms with the house elf since meeting him.
“A noble elf from a noble House,” Hermione nodded, as they shook hands. “And don’t be so sad, Kreacher. The House of Black hasn’t fallen, not really. There’s still someone whom you might serve, someday?”
“Oh!” Kreacher gasped, “Who?” He asked anxiously.
But it was Harry who answered, a bewildered look crossing his face.
“Teddy,” Harry said very softly, his emerald eyes going distant. Then he looked down at Kreacher. “Teddy Remus Lupin. Grandson of Andromeda Black-Tonks?”
Kreacher gaped at him. Obviously, this was the first he’d heard of the birth of Teddy Lupin.
“Ahhh, Kreacher hasn’t seen Mistress Andromeda in sooooo very long,” he pined. “And all over a marriage they didn’t like.” He shook his head, his large ears waving. “Kreacher was so stupid, he was,” the elf berated himself. “Master Teddy will probably never have him,” the elf fretted.
“You know,” Ron spoke up, “In a perverse sort of way, this almost makes us related, Harry. You being Teddy’s Godfather, and all?”
“Oh dear!” Hermione exclaimed, as they approached the ruined entrance hall of the castle where a few carpenters were trying to put the great oaken doors back together. “It’s all rather complex, isn’t it? How you’re all related? What a family tree that must be?”
“Poor Teddy,” Ron sighed, “To think he’s got Malfoy as a cousin, too?”
“I think I’ll – errr – not bother to tell him that for a while, until he’s much older,” Harry decided right then. “Poor kid’s gonna have enough problems as it is.”
But if anyone knew what Harry meant, they said nothing. After all, it was common knowledge that Teddy Lupin’s parents had been a werewolf and a metamorphmagus. It was hard telling how the baby would turn out as he grew up and slowly came into his own.
“Harry!” Neville squeaked, “If Tonks and Lupin are dead, though,” he spoke uncertainly, “And you’re the Godfather, then doesn’t custody of Teddy fall to you right off?”
They all stared at Harry.
“Oh!” Kreacher sighed, “Surely Master Sirius’ Godson will bring the baby for Kreacher to see? Kreacher MUST make a nursery ready!” He wrung his ears. “The house is such a mess, too!”
“He’s gone mental! Kreacher-the-nanny?” Ron whispered to Hermione, who had to nod. Given the elf’s past behavior, it was quite the shock to see him acting so.
“Well, the baby is with his grandmother Andromeda now,” Harry explained, “And I’ve not heard from her, I mean,” Harry began to ramble nervously, “I know we’ve been busy and all, and I am Teddy’s Godfather, like Sirius was to me, but I don’t know if she’ll want to…I mean, Teddy’s all she’s got now, even though they are still of the House of Black, and wouldn’t it be rude of me if…”
“HARRY!” Hermione interrupted him. “Think about it! I know not having a proper family might make it hard for you to understand, but think of it this way – how do you think your Aunt Petunia would act if Dudley presented her with a new little bundle of joy?”
“She’d be all over stupid about her new ‘mini-Diddy-kins’ or somesuch,” Harry pulled a face, “Spoil him rotten, she would! Never let go of him!”
“Aye, just like me Gram does me!” Seamus offered.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Neville interjected, “Are we talking about GRANDMOTHERS here?”
“Yes,” Hermione confirmed, looking at Harry. “For now, don’t worry about it. I’m sure that when anything you need to know about happens, Mrs. Tonks will contact you!”
And with that thought in mind, they all headed in for lunch in what remained of the Great Hall. While the windows were still broken out, the enchanted ceiling was still working, revealing a blue sky with the occasional puffy white cloud. Someone had managed to sweep the floor, though, and despite the damaged walls, the Hall wasn’t looking TOO worse for wear. They had all just sat down at the hastily repaired tables when Professor McGonagall called for their attention.
Before she spoke, she glanced around at the House tables – where there were more than a few familiar faces missing. And aside from Professor Slughorn, the Slytherin table was deserted.
“Friends,” She addressed them all, “We’ve been through a great deal recently, as I’m sure you all know!” She paused for a bit of nervous laughter, but the sound of relief from everyone was apparent. “While the wounded are now recovering in the hospital wing, with the worst of them now off to St. Mungo’s, the cleanup has begun,” she gestured around the hall, “And there is MUCH to be done. My thanks, as Acting Headmistress, to all who have decided to stay and take on this enormous task.”
There was more applause.
“However,” she continued.
“Here it comes,” Ron mumbled.
“She’s staying on!” Ginny said. “I thought for sure she’d retire now!”
“Probably die at her desk of old age at 200 or so,” Dean put in.
“I heard that, Mr. Thomas,” McGonagall surprisingly smiled at him. Dean gulped. “And you’re right! While I’m certainly no spring chicken, I think I’ve got a number of good years left in me! Dear Albus, bless his heart, was about 150, you know?”
There was a great deal of applause, which McGonagall waved off.
“Those from the village who know architecture and building have advised me that we need volunteers,” she went on, in that classroom voice of hers. “It’s going to be a long summer of rebuilding, and I’m asking for your help to repair Hogwarts, so that we can be open on the first of next September to resume business as usual! Acting Minister of Magic Shacklebolt is already insisting upon it!”
“Business as usual?” Ron gasped, “What, with no Dark Lord chasing after Harry, no plots, no gigantic monsters, no intrigues?” It wasn’t funny at all, but the Gryffindors still had to snicker – especially Harry.
“Boring,” Seamus drawled.
“I’m ready to be bored!” Neville agreed happily.
“Well yeh can count on Grawpy and me!” Hagrid bellowed. “’t’won’t be nothin’ fer Grawpy to haul rocks up ‘ere!”
“Rocks!” Grawp agreed happily, peeking in the broken windows with a huge smile.
All eyes at the Gryffindor table then turned to Harry, as if they were waiting to see what he would do. Technically, there was nothing legal to hold him there. And even though his education was not formally complete, it was pretty much assured that no one was going to be asking to see his NEWT scores, should he want a job somewhere!
“I can’t leave her, not like this,” Harry breathed, personifying the castle with reverence in his voice, as he remembered his first look at the Great Hall…
Ron was by his side, and there were hundreds of candles floating. The ceiling looked like the sky, and somewhere, he could smell something wonderful cooking…
Then Harry stood up and nodded to Professor McGonagall.
“That’s one,” she smiled back at him.
And then the rest of the students, those who had remained, stood up as well.
When the cheers and shouts had finally died down again, and lunch was over with, owls began flying with news of the proposed rebuilding. Floos were lit, and the presses were stopped at the Daily Prophet to print the story:
“Hogwarts to be Repaired! Reopening September 1st!”
A call went out to anyone and everyone who was willing to help, and by the end of the day, Hogsmeade Village didn’t have a room open to rent. Students who had evacuated began returning that night, and tents were even pitched on the school grounds to accommodate the volunteers.
The students, of course, stayed in their usual houses, and for the first time in a long time, Hogwarts was to spend the summer full of life and activity. The only difference was with Slytherin House, which much to Professor Slughorn’s dismay, had lost more than half of its members.
“They used to board students here, you know, over the summers,” Hermione was telling them all in the fairly deserted Gryffindor common room. “I read about it in…”
“Hermione’s Bloody, Blithering History of Hogwarts,” Ron cut in, laughing. “Say, why don’t you write a new edition? You can chronicle the rebuilding to torment future generations with?”
Hermione’s eyes lit up.
“Now ye’ve gone an’ done it,” Seamus grinned, “That’ll drive the rest of ‘em off to bed!” And sure enough, it did!
Harry looked lost in thought, though, and it was George who noticed it.
“Maybe Voldemort – Riddle – wouldn’t have turned out so bad if they had continued that,” Harry mused, “I remember Dumbledore telling me that young Tom grew up in a Muggle orphanage.”
“Hard to believe, in all the Wizarding World, there was no one who wanted to take in an orphaned child,” George muttered in a distracted tone, “No wonder he went bad.” Then he got up. “Excuse me, but I should go and find Angelina,” he offered, as he fled the common room.
“I don’t think he’ll ever get over this,” Ron shook his head, as Hermione took his hand. Next to Harry, Ginny did the same.
They were all just sitting there, thinking those long thoughts, when the Fat Lady of the Portrait called out, “HARREEEEEEY! HARRY POTTER? You have a guest!”
“Now who could that be?” Harry grumbled, as he got up to see who might be wanting to come and idly chat with him this time. There had been a great deal of that going on lately, almost as if those who had lost someone were coming to Harry seeking solace. And while he had offered it as best he could, it was beginning to wear on him.
But it was also better than those who tended to avoid him, which bothered Harry as well. It made him wonder what they could be thinking, as if they might be holding him personally responsible for their losses.
Bracing himself, Harry opened the portrait door.
“M-Mrs. Tonks!” He exclaimed, looking down at the squirming, crying bundle in her arms. There was also a brilliant shock of blue hair peeking out of the light blue blanket. Harry just stood there gaping.
“Ahhh, Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked, and Harry finally noticed her, too.
“Well don’t just stand there, Harry! Invite her in!” Hermione called.
“Right! Right!” Harry managed, as Mrs. Andromeda Tonks made to hand him the baby.
“B-but, I don’t know how to hold a baby!” Harry almost panicked.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Potter, there’s nothing to it!” McGonagall informed him, as if instructing some transfiguration lesson in class that he just wasn’t getting, “Support the head, firm but gentle grasp, both arms, that’s it!” She encouraged him, as Mrs. Tonks placed the baby in his arms.
Very carefully, his emerald eyes never leaving the crying infant, Harry carried the baby into the common room proper, gazing upon his Godson for the very first time.
“I thought it was time you met your Godson, proper,” Mrs. Tonks explained, and Harry just nodded.
“Oh, he’s so cute!” Ginny exclaimed, “He’s got his mother’s hair!”
“It turns blue when he’s upset,” Mrs. Tonks explained, “Looks like the metamorphmagus gene bred true.”
“Everyone, th-this is my Godson, Teddy Lupin,” Harry said, his voice catching as he felt something inside of himself that he had never felt before. For a moment, he thought he might be ill, but his questioning glance to Professor McGonagall was answered by a knowing nod.
Seamus, Dean, and Neville fled the room at once. The women snorted. Ron looked terrified as Ginny beckoned to Harry to come and sit, so that she and Hermione could have a better look at Teddy.
But as Harry held him close, leaning down for a closer look at the child, Teddy stopped crying and reached out a pudgy little hand to grasp Harry’s finger. His blue hair then shifted into a sandy brown color, and he stopped crying.
“You have the touch, Potter,” McGonagall observed, “I think he likes you?”
For Harry, who had never known the love of a family of his own, it was all so confusing and alien. Granted, he had seen plenty of family with the Weasley Clan, and while Molly had once said that he was as good as her own son, the feelings that Harry was now experiencing were disorienting. For just an instant, he had the wild urge to run up to his dorm room with Teddy and lock the door, cursing anyone into oblivion who might dare to take the baby from his arms.
But as he dismissed that silly notion, knowing that he was among friends and those he trusted, Harry remembered something else, almost hearing Dumbledore saying:
“He grew up in a Muggle orphanage…”
“That won’t happen,” Harry said aloud, without realizing it.
“What won’t happen, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“I won’t let him grow up an orphan!” Harry choked, suddenly overcome. He clenched his eyes shut, and while he’d never been one to cry or show much emotion in front of others, this time it could not be helped.
As Harry Potter held his Godson, all of the memories of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin came flooding back in on him with stark clarity:
Lupin was chasing off the Dementor on the train.
They were talking about James and Lily.
“Chocolate, it helps!”
“You are NOT weak, Harry.”
“…so clean, these Muggles! Not natural!”
“Wotcher, Harry!”
“Never call me ‘Nymphadora’!”
A clumsy Tonks was wrecking Aunt Petunia’s kitchen…
…and so much more…
But finally:
“We’d like you to be his Godfather, Harry?”
And then Shacklebolt was at the services, saying, “Remus Lupin … Nymphadora Tonks …”
“Harry?” Ginny asked softly, leaning in to put her arm around him. “What is it?”
“I…I shouted at him,” Harry managed, shaking his head, “I called him a c-coward.”
Then Harry began gently rocking Teddy in his arms, tears spilling down his face as his body shuddered with the release of years and years of pent up grief and guilt. He thought of his parents, of Dumbledore, of Sirius – and as ridiculous as it felt – even Colin Creevey: everyone who had come into his life, and then left it. For so long, he’d had to hide those feelings, not show any weakness. He’d had to keep himself strong, not surrendering to his own hurts for the sake of being able to bring himself to face Voldemort. It seemed that for all of his wizarding life, Harry had had to be the strong and brave one, for the greater cause.
For the greater good.
But no more.
Harry Potter wept.
His tears fell upon Teddy, as if baptizing him in an odd way, forming a bond between them. But this didn’t seem to bother the now-sleeping infant, who had let go of Harry’s finger and snuggled down into his blanket with a happy little coo.
Unsure of what to do or say, and clearly embarrassed, Ron shifted in his seat. Hermione caught his expression – one that reminded her of a cornered animal wanting to bolt – and seized his hand.
“I’ve waited seven years for this,” McGonagall whispered to Andromeda Tonks, “He’s never let it out – until now. I don't think he could.”
“I don't think Teddy has anything to worry about, Minerva,” Mrs. Tonks said. “I came here fretting about me being the only one in the world that Teddy has, wondering how Harry would take it?”
Harry then looked up at them, and then at Ginny, who was holding out her arms. Reluctantly, Harry handed Teddy to her, gasping as if something had physically been ripped out from inside him. He didn’t understand it, and thought of calling Madame Pomfrey – the pain of it was that great – when Hermione patted his arm and conjured up a handkerchief for him. Yet as he wiped his face and blew his nose, all Harry could think about was getting Teddy back into his arms.
What they were all going to do suddenly didn’t matter.
The repairs to the castle didn’t matter.
Finishing his education didn’t matter.
The threat of rogue Death Eaters didn’t matter.
All that mattered was what was wrapped up in that blue blanket that Ginny now held.
When Harry finally got hold of himself, his face red from crying and embarrassment, he faced Andromeda Tonks. And summoning all of the Gryffindor courage that he could muster, said, “Ma’am, I…I want to be a part of Teddy’s life, if you’ll have me?”
Mrs. Tonks didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Her smile was enough for Harry to understand, and in that instant, he knew that his life had just changed again.
“Oh, Harry,” Ginny whispered in his ear, her voice full of pride and awe.
“Oh, Harry!” Ron croaked, his face pink and his voice full of terror as he stared at his little sister, seated next to his best friend, and holding a baby!
“Oh, Ronald!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly!”
“And speaking of honesty,” Mrs. Tonks spoke up, “Harry, there’s something else about Teddy that we need to discuss!”