Harry Potter and the Battle of the Age

Chapter Twenty-Four

The End

Two weeks later, Harry Potter boarded the train from Hogwarts. He made his way through the crowded train and found his seat in the last compartment. Ron and Hermione were already there, and Rachel was behind him. They all sat, looked at each other for a bit, and one by one began to grin.

"How were your Ancient Runes N.E.W.T.s?' Harry asked Hermione. The tests had been postponed due to the circumstances, and those with more than seven had finished their final ones only the night before.

"All right, I guess... although I'm a bit worried about the last translation; I'm really not sure whether the beginning would be 'a cauldron of newt tails by the full moon' or 'a pail of newt tails by the full moon'..."

Everyone stared at her.

"I think you'll be all right," Ron assured her, patting her shoulder like he was a bit concerned for her mind.

The train lurched.

"Oh--we're leaving!" Rachel said. Everyone gathered around the window for a last look at the castle, and the forest, lake, and mountains... Harry noticed, as he had begun to the week before, how beautiful the school and grounds were, and also how little he usually appreciated it. The last few weeks had been filled with questions, long tales and explanations, final studying... ceremonies... funerals....

Dumbledore himself had been laid to rest near the lake, according to his will. The memorial service had been incredible--a few centaurs gave solemn, moving tributes and shot a hail of flaming arrows over the water. Goblins and house-elves were present, as well as mermen who sank a dirge from just below the surface of the lake water. The Minister of Magic was there, along with many of his Department Heads. Dozens of foreigners Harry didn't know had arrived. And the entire school was there, save the Slytherins who were awaiting juvenile trials (including Malfoy). At the closing, Fawkes the phoenix sang his own terribly beautiful song, and rose into the air, flying toward the mountains. Harry wondered if he would ever see the beautiful bird again as he paid his respects to Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the century, which Harry could vouch for personally.

Ginny's and Neville's twin funeral was smaller, but no less magnificent. Mrs. Weasley and Neville's grandmother stayed close, crying together. All of Neville's remaining family was there, sombre to honour their brave youngest relation. Bill Weasley brought Fluer Delacour, who was quiet and much more--human than Harry had remembered her. She promised Mrs. Weasley tearfully that if she and Bill were ever married, they would have lots of daughters, and then they had hugged. Mrs. Weasley cried quite a lot, but had always been surrounded by her sons, her husband, and Harry, Hermione, and Rachel. She would survive as long as they were there. Most of the Order had attended.

The things Sirius had told him about grieving being a part of love had resounded in his mind throughout the duration of both ceremonies. And at both of them, Harry had cried.

Harry was jerked back to the present by the appearance of Hagrid, rolling by his window with increased speed as the train began to chug ahead faser. He would see him again when he stayed at the Burrow this summer, before finding a flat in London near the Ministry where he could begin his training as an Auror. Still, he would miss being able to stroll down to Hagrid's hut Saturday afternoons for a cup of tea. When the Hagrid began to look small(er), Madame Maxime came up behind him and waved as well. Then they walked off to the castle together--they had spent an awful lot of time together since Hagrid had sent Grawp off to the mountains with the female giant Maxime had brought. Apparently the two of them had also gotten pretty cosy, after fighting one of Voldemort's giants, who turned out to be from a rival tribe, in the pounding rain and howling wind. Even though Grawp was now slightly more friendly toward the centaurs, who had peppered the other giant with flaming arrows after they subdued him, Madame Maxime was able to convince Hagrid to send him back. Harry hoped he would patch things up with the centaurs. The castle began to recede from view as well.

"I can't believe we're really leaving," Harry said quietly. "Wow... seven years..."

Although--a part of him could believe it. He was... he was a wizard now. He could actually do the spells in the very backs of his books that had looked impossible to him, he could Apparate with ease, he had been tested against powerful Dark Magic, the darkest many had ever seen, and proved himself worthy. He felt like he had... he had succeeded; he had accomplished what Hogwarts and that part of his life had set down for him, and now he was ready to face the rest of the world. He took Rachel's hand and squeezed it a little.

As they passed the familiar moors, mountains and farms, Crookshanks and Sprite curled up by the window, Hedwig and Pig chattered at each other overhead, and Harry said goodbye to the good friends who drifted in and out of his compartment all day. He dreaded returning to King's Cross Station more than ever, but not like he used to--apprehensive of the long summer with the Dursleys, wondering what Voldemort was plotting to do next. He loved that he didn't need to worry about that anymore. Something felt almost wrong--sometimes, when he lay awake in bed, especially during his short stay at St. Mungo's, he wondered if he could really be gone...Voldemort was so, incredibly powerful, could he really be just--gone? When he felt like this, he only thought of Sibyll Trelawney's prophesies and shook his head. He had to be. Harry figured that the darkness he could sense was only the rest of the evil in the world, which could never truly leave, but could certainly be held down... and he would deal with that when he became an Auror.

A group of first years, looking much more wise and much older since the beginning of the year, peered into his compartment at Harry and Rachel, until Ron threw a deck of cards at them.

"Little ninnies..." he muttered, but he was smiling.

"Ah, let 'em look," Rachel said. Her story had inevitably gotten out, causing many near heart attacks in Gryffindor Tower. Shocked retellings of her relationship to a certain teacher ('you won't believe which one!') and their misadventures all over school had passed from student to student until it was common knowledge, in about three days (along with rumours about the large scar forming on Lupin's neck, the absence of the Slytherins, and about twenty other dark tales for the gossip-starved).

"Yeah," Harry said. "Who cares?"

They discussed ordinary things during the trip, such as McGonagall's promising new career as Headmistress, Lupin's own as Head of Gryffindor House, and the way the house-elfs in the kitchen cried after Hermione presented them with handmade 'Orders of Dumbledore'. It turned out that they had personally helped hold off a group of Death Eaters when they attempted to attack the Hufflepuff common room, which was near the kitchens.

Then they began to speculate on wo would take over the Transfiguration professor job, and agreed unanimously that there would be a filler for a year or too, then Hermione would take the job.

All too soon, the scarlet steam engine pulled into King's Cross station. Colin Creevey snapped one last picture of part of the back of Harry's head as he got off the school train for the last time.

"Memorable, Colin," he grinned.

Mrs. Weasley met them at the station, along with Lupin, Tonks, Chris Connor, and Bill, who was visiting. Harry took a last look at his bright red ferry to Hogwarts, then ducked his head and stepped through the solid stone of the barrier and into the bustling station. After the usual round of hugs and Mrs. Weasley's fussing, they made their way out to the parking lot. Harry looked up at the sky, a bright, cheerful blue above the warm June London.

"This is how the rest of my life begins..." he thought vaguely, watching a bird twitter by. It was odd to think that he wasn't about to go back to Hogwarts, see Dumbledore, fight Voldemort again... odd, but rather exciting. He watched the years ahead, the post-school years, unfolding happily ahead of him, stretching out like the cloudless sky. He felt Rachel take his hand.

"Coming, Harry?"

She smiled questioningly at him, wondering what he was thinking. He shook his head and smiled back.

"Yeah."

And he walked ahead with her, Ron and Hermione, away from everything relating to Hogwarts, but with good feelings.

He walked on to the rest of his life.

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