Survivors II

Alastor Moody sent the last of the students he was interviewing off and breathed a deep sigh. It was a mixed sigh of sorrow and triumph.

Triumph, because somehow the Boy-Who-Lived had destroyed Voldemort and his Death Eaters and hundreds of dementors.

Sorrow, because dozens of innocent students had been killed, and even more had been injured.

It was the next to last Friday of June, and the Hogwarts students had been heading home a week early. The students had been gathered on the railway platform in Hogsmeade. The train had just pulled in and the teachers, other than Hagrid, had been making their way back to the castle when the dementors had surrounded the platform, which had caused the thestrals pulling the carriages to stampede. Then Death Eaters attacked from one direction and a group of Hogwarts students, led by Draco Malfoy, attacked from another direction. They had let fly volleys of the Killing Curse into the crowd of students. Voldemort had then appeared, and he and his followers had sent dozens of stunning curses into the students, and especially against Harry Potter and his five friends and followers.

So much Moody had gathered from the survivors he had talked to before sending them off for triage or at least to be checked on. It's what had happened next that Moody was having a difficult time believing. Still, when eighteen witnesses tell the same story, even Moody knew he should at least suspect there was a grain of truth somewhere.

They all agreed that as Voldemort had walked towards a shocked Harry Potter, standing with his fallen friends piled around him, a brilliant light had surrounded the teen, which had slowly grown larger, spreading over the platform. Any hex, even the Killing Curse, was deflected by it. When the white light had touched any of the dementors, they had been destroyed. When it had touched Voldemort or any with the Dark Mark, they had been killed. When the last of the outer ring of dementors had been destroyed, the light had disappeared, and Potter had collapsed.

Even now, less than half an hour after it had stopped and twenty-five minutes after Moody and the various members of the Hogwarts staff and the Order had arrived, it was still difficult to understand.

Moody stopped thinking, and took in what he was seeing. Despite his physical handicaps, he had cleared his section of the platform first. He therefore clumped his way over to where the Boy-Who-Lived had fallen.

The six friends were more or less laying in a heap, Ginny Weasley on the bottom, Potter on top. It was not immediately apparent if any of the six were alive or not.

"What's the problem?" Moody growled. Tonks, Dumbledore, Snape, Flitwick, and two non-Order aurors Moody knew mostly just by name were all standing around, looking confused.

"There is some sort of magical shielding around them," Flitwick stated. "We can't touch them." Dumbledore went back to trying to figure out this shielding.

"What happens when you try?" Moody demanded. When it came to magical shielding, Moody was as much an expert as Flitwick or Dumbledore.

"My hand was stopped, and, well, I felt this . . . emotional connection," Tonks said.

"What emotion?" Moody asked.

"Regret and sorrow," Tonks answered.

"Dumbledore and I felt the same," Flitwick stated. "These two, however," he gestured at the two aurors, "were flung back a good twenty yards."

"Did you feel anything?" Moody asked them.

"They should feel embarrassment," Snape said with his sneer intact. "Emotional shielding? Myth." Snape actually spat on the ground, to Flitwick's disgust. "Especially shielding that can distinguish to that degree. And even if it were possible, that snot-nosed brat couldn't do it!"

"Why don't you try it?" Tonks dared.

Moody was surprised that Snape could be so stupid, but he actually extended his hand towards the shielding.

"NO!" Moody, Flitwick, and Dumbledore cried out.

Snape shrieked in agony, as the palm of his left hand was instantly charred. Moody and Flitwick quickly numbed his hand and Flitwick quickly did a series of medical spells. Moody sent the injured Snape off with one of the aurors. With luck, his hand would be back to normal in a day or so.

When Snape was gone, Moody shook his head. "The fool. Considering what Potter did today, he shouldn't be limiting what the boy can do by what any Seventh year can do."

"True," Flitwick agreed.

"Still, Potter doesn't hate my guts," Moody said, and before anyone else could stop him, he reached out.

And met no obstruction.

"The shield is down?" the remaining auror asked hopefully.

"No," Moody said. "You know Arthur Weasley and his wife?"

The auror nodded.

"If they are here, bring them." The auror hesitated, but Moody had been his distant superior once, and seemed to know what he was doing, so he finally went.

"Why them?" Tonks demanded.

"Go find Lupin, if he's here. Don't ask daft questions."

"What did you feel?" Dumbledore demanded.

To the shock of the three people in front of him Moody shed a tear from his good eye. "The feeling said, well, if it meant anything, it might have meant . . . 'grandfather.'"

"What?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Potter and I have gotten along fairly well these last two years or so. I guess he thinks of me as a grandfather figure. However, while I can approach him, I can't kneel enough to examine them. If he thinks of me as something of a grandfather, then perhaps he'll let Lupin and the Weasleys in as well."

'Why you and not me?' Dumbledore's voice was as loud as if it had been spoken.

"But. . . ." Tonks objected.

"Potter loves you like a sister," Moody agreed, "but you're also an active Ministry auror and a lot more under Dumbledore's control than I am. The same is true of you, Filius. I've spent the last two years teaching Potter anything he wanted to learn." He turned to Dumbledore. "We both love the boy like a grandson, but I've treated him more like one."

"You're right," Dumbledore whispered. Tonks turned to grab Remus, whom she knew was likely either lurking nearby or soon would be.

Lupin and Arthur Weasley had just arrived and came over quickly. Dumbledore quickly gave them a quick precis of the events of the morning.

"Are they . . . alive?" Arthur asked.

"Potter must be," Moody pointed out. "As for the rest, I'm sorry Arthur, but it's no more than distantly possible. By all accounts, dozens of stunners were sent over at them."

"And if five or six stunners hit at once, they can kill," Arthur agreed, the pain obvious in his voice.

"Well, we'll hope for the best," Remus said, and put his hand out. Arthur followed. Both were able to more closely approach Harry. Moody walked behind them.

Remus gingerly touched Harry, and whispered assurances in his ear. Moody could feel the shielding around him collapse, and saw Potter going even more limp than he had been.

Moody conjured a stretcher, and put Harry atop of it while Lupin examined the other five teens.

Remus looked up a few moments later. "I'm so sorry," he said to Arthur. "Ginny is alive, but heavily stunned. The other four . . . haven't made it." Arthur was already holding his youngest son in his arms, crying.

Late that evening, an exhausted Alastor Moody clumped towards a guarded hospital room. He slowly made his way down the corridor at St. Mungo's. People averted their eyes, and one or two made snide comments about hoping that if Moody had ever received care there, they would look for other health care providers.

Moody couldn't care less what people said about him. He hadn't cared back in 1911, when he had left Hogwarts. He hadn't cared in 1916, when he had joined the aurors. He hadn't cared when he fought in four wizarding wars and conducted spy missions in two Muggle World Wars and behind the so-called Iron Curtain.

He was 105, a good age for a wizard, although a few lived almost twice as long. He had never expected to survive this fourth wizarding war. He had made it through the first three wars, sixty-five years of active duty, with only a few dozen scars. The last ten years of active duty were what had made him into what he was today. Ten years, when two thirds of the British aurors and three quarters of the hit-wizards had been laid off by cost-cutters like Fudge. The British MLES services had been cut back below what they had been before Voldemort had started what was now called his First Rising. Moody had been sent on solo missions that needed two to four team members. He had lost his eye and his leg, and had gathered more scars than he could count.

Then, he had been stunned and kept in his own trunk for ten months. That had been embarrassing. Almost as bad, a year later, he had been taken down at the battle at the Ministry after taking out just two Death Eaters. When he woke up, he was certain he would never survive the coming war. He had also been equally certain he would give his all until he was killed.

Somehow, he had survived. He had undertaken numerous surveillance jobs and had participated in a few firefights and raids. Somehow, he had survived, only gaining a dozen small scars in the process. Amazing. Now, the war was over thanks to Harry Potter, and at a lower cost than many people had predicted.

Still, there had been a cost. Over the last two years, many good people, many innocent people, had been killed or Kissed. Many had died in that last battle as well. It would take a long time for those scars to heal. Even some of the Death Eaters had had loved ones, after all. Narcissa Malfoy was already trying to convince the Ministry that Potter should be punished for the death of her son.

Moody shook his head, and resumed clumping towards a private room that had two burly wizards standing in front of the door. They made to block him, but the scowl he gave them got him past them, much to Moody's disgust.

Incompetence. Moody hated that almost as much as he hated evil and malevolence. He gave the passwords anyway, and walked in.

The lights were low, and the teen in the bed wasn't moving. Neither were the three people around the bed. Moody transformed a rickety chair into a more solid stool and sat as well.

Finally, after a few minutes, Remus asked without looking up, "I guess the Dursleys had no comment?"

"Oh, they had comments," Moody growled, "and a colorful, if limited, vocabulary."

"I take it they won't be visiting?" Dumbledore asked.

"That's a rhetorical question if I ever heard one," Remus commented.

"I had hoped it was not one ," Dumbledore responded, "but I must admit, although I am disappointed, I am not surprised."

"I think they would have done more harm than good, even if they had tried," Tonks said quietly. "Harry needs people who love him, especially right now, and you just have to accept that they don't."

"Some people have no sense," Moody stated, leaning over and to all their surprise allowing one of his gnarled fingers to stroke Harry's cheek. He looked up. "Go on, you three."

"What?" Remus asked.

"Albus, you have work to do. People will want to know what Potter did. . . ."

"He says he doesn't know," Remus interrupted.

"Albus? You don't, or Potter doesn't?"

"Harry woke up for about fifteen minutes," Dumbledore said. "He claims he doesn't know what happened. He thought everyone was killed by whatever he did, so he was relieved to learn that wasn't true. He was also glad Ginny is still alive."

"She awake yet?"

"Not yet," Tonks said. "They doubt she'll be awake until sometime Sunday at the earliest."

"How is she?"

Tonks shrugged. "They don't know. One of the stunners hit her right in one eye." Moody winced. "Surprisingly, they think her sight will recover."

Moody was surprised. "How?"

"Whatever that white energy field was, it didn't just kill Death Eaters and destroy dementors," Dumbledore said. "It also partially healed the injured. Some who should have been dead when we arrived have managed to live so far, although some may still not make it. Miss Weasley's sight, Hagrid's life, and several others' have been spared greater pain or death as well."

"Well, you'd best hit the books and explain it, unless you want to risk Potter being thought a miracle worker of some kind," Moody pointed out.

"I suppose." Dumbledore looked longingly at Harry.

Moody shook his walking stick at them. "Go on! Git! the lot of you! I'll stay until morning."

The three looked at each other. "I said go on! You two get some rest! Harry needs you here when he's awake, not when he's asleep. And you, old friend, had best get cracking. Come Monday, there will be far too many funerals and such." Moody frowned. "Has anyone explained to the Muggle-born parents about what must be done? We don't want any dark magic! The grave robbers are likely sniffing around already."

"Kingsley has arranged security, and Professor McGonagall is talking with the parents," Tonks told him.

"Good. Now, go on, the lot of you."

The three took their leave of Harry, and then Moody, who was again standing, his arms folded.

Once they left, Moody moved a cushioned chair into a position where he would have the drop on the door and the small window. He double checked the wards, added a few of his own, and then sat heavily into the chair.

He let himself drowse.

Moody woke up for the fourth time that night, and his magical eye quickly checked the door, the window, and then the boy. Harry looked back.

Moody opened his normal eye. "Get you something, Potter?"

"I don't rate a prettier nurse?"

Moody let go a soft bark of laughter. "Sorry, son. No sisters or nurses or even too many healers. You're not physically injured, just physically and magically exhausted. You should be fine in both areas by, they say, sometime late next week, I'm guessing you'll be fine by Wednesday, if not before."

"I see. Am I under arrest, Mad-eye?" Harry asked.

"No, why do you ask?"

"There are two guards at the door, and I seem to have a new minder," Harry pointed out.

Moody wasn't certain how the boy knew about the two guards, but little would surprise him now. "They're to keep people out, not you in. We're with you, because you just went through a very traumatic experience, and you also did an amazing bit of unexplainable magic. If it's unstable, it could cause problems."

"There are three people alive right now that I totally trust," Harry said. "Four, if you count a house elf."

"Well, that's one more than I have, lad. Two, if you count the elf."

"I don't trust Dumbledore."

That surprised Moody a little. "Why's that?"

"He played things too close, Mad-eye. He'll want to test this power, see if it can be tapped again. I don't trust him not to try and manipulate me into saving the world again."

Moody thought about that. After three minutes of silent thought, he said, "I don't think he'd do that, Potter, but I can see why you would. May I ask who the three people are? After what you've been through, you need to talk to people."

"I've talked with Remus already." Moody nodded. Lupin had acted like an uncle and a mentor to the boy since the death of Sirius Black. "And I'm talking to the second one now."

"Really?" Moody was very touched, but not totally surprised. "Why trust in a broken-down auror?"

"Because you and Remus are the only two adults who have treated me the way I think I should have been treated since Sirius died. Because the two of you gave me the training I needed, in ways I could understand. You've trusted me. And most of all, because you have both suffered, but you've kept going. You both understand pain and suffering and guilt."

"Aye, lad," Moody said, "that we do."

"The third is Ginny."

Moody understood that, too. Harry and his five companions had formed a very powerful team, one that had bonds of love and understanding.

"I hope she doesn't hate me."

"I think she'd hex your nose off if she heard you say that."

Harry managed a smile. "You're probably right."

"Can I give you a little advice?" Moody asked.

"I was about to ask for it," Harry answered.

"Do you still want to be an auror?"

"I'm still thinking about it, but probably not," Harry said. "No offence to you or Tonks."

"Why don't you?"

Harry looked tiredly at Moody, and decided it was a fair question, and that there was no hostility behind it. "I don't trust the Ministry. You understand that, right?"

"I do," Moody said. "There's no rush to decide. You can put off training for a year to two to decide. It will also take you some time to recover from what you lost."

"You mean who."

"I mean who," Moody agreed. "I admit, the attack took everyone by surprise, but it's not your fault most of the students ran about like demented sheep. Considering their training. . . ."

"My training."

"Yes, your training. I supervised some of it, remember? So did a lot of others. The students should have known better. If they had acted as they had been trained to, a lot more would be alive. That's not your fault in any way. They reacted much worse than anyone anticipated. If there is any fault, it's with Dumbledore and the rest of us, not you."

Harry didn't look convinced.

"Look, Potter, you have every right to grieve. Just don't feel guilty. You did more than anyone could have guessed at."

"I didn't do well enough."

"Perhaps, but it was still more than anyone else could have done."

Harry just looked up at the ceiling. "It's not going to be easy."

"No, it's not," Moody agreed. "Still, when has anything in your life been easy?"

"Making friends with Ron was easy. Flying was easy. Falling in love wasn't easy, but Luna made it seem that way once we got started."

Moody looked at the teen, his face unreadable.

"What is it, Mad-eye?"

"You may call be Alastor, if you prefer."

"I'll try, if you'll call me Harry."

"Alright, Harry. You were Muggle-raised, so you still think of seventy as old, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I was surprised to learn Dumbledore is almost a hundred and fifty!"

"McGonagall is in her late seventies, so was Voldemort, for that matter. Me, I'm over a hundred -- I spent seventy-five years as an auror for the ministry. I grew up in a boring but magical family, but they died when I was in my last year at Hogwarts, in one of the first attacks of what some called the last Goblin War and others the Knights' War or the First War with Grindelwald. I was a very good student, maybe a tad better than you but not by much. I wasn't all that popular, wasn't the brightest or funniest or friendliest or even on the Quidditch team. Then I became an auror, and threw my self into my work. My point is, Harry, in some ways you've had more love and really close friendship in these last seven years than I've had in the last eighty years or so. So, you have every right to grieve. You have every right to be angry with fate or the gods or what have you. I kept going, because I knew I was doing good. You can, too, and you have potentially a very long time to find a new love and a purpose in life."

Harry kept looking at the ceiling, but finally said, "I know you're right. . . ."

"But it still hurts too much to think about the future," Moody said.

"Exactly."

"Well, would you really want to be like me? Do you know how many real Christmas gifts I've been given since the only aunt I was close to was killed back in '44?"

"Besides the ones Luna and I gave you?"

"There were none besides the ones Lovegood and you gave me. Did you know you set up a very powerful shield over you and your friends when you passed out?"

"It worked? I didn't think it would."

"It shouldn't have. Emotional shields like that are the stuff of legend. When Snape touched it, it nearly burned his hand off. If we hadn't been there, he might have lost the use of it. You know what happened when I touched it?"

"Nothing bad, I hope."

Moody gave Harry his twisted smile. "No, nothing bad. In fact, it was the nicest feeling I've had since the 1920s. We'll get you through this, Harry. Trust me."

"You know, I do trust you."

"Now, go back to sleep, Harry. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ma . . . Alastor."

Harry fell back asleep quickly, from exhaustion. Moody settled in, and fell asleep, too.

Remus Lupin came into Harry's the room the next morning, and was instantly facing the point of Moody's wand.

"There are three groups of aurors I had to be checked through, and two guards at the door, Mad-Eye," Remus pointed out.

Moody put his wand away. "True. You get some rest?"

"A fair amount, in fact. You?"

"Probably less than you, but I got enough. Are the Weasleys here?"

"Poor Arthur. The Ministry still has him running around, along with Bill. Molly is in the ward, watching over Ginny."

Moody hauled himself up. "Then I best go see her."

"She hasn't slept a wink by all accounts," Remus said.

"Not surprising." Moody stretched to ease the kinks that he got these days no matter how he slept. "Tonks?"

"She's helping with the arrangements for the bodies to be dealt with. Did Harry wake up at all?"

"A little after Three. We talked a bit, and he went back to sleep."

"How does he feel?"

Moody shrugged. "You should know how. You know him at least as well as I do. Survivor's guilt, although not as bad as after Black's death. Harry always wants to bear the burden, and he'll feel the load of his friends' death at the very least, and probably all the students for that matter. Probably feel more than a twinge at the Death Eaters killed, for that matter."

"Probably, since it seems he somehow killed them."

Moody shook his head, "Not directly."

"What do you mean?"

"That white energy may have come from Harry, but I don't think he was in control of it in any way. It destroyed the dementors, Death Eaters and the students with the Dark Mark, and Voldemort. It healed anyone else, or at least it did a little. If Harry had been in control of it, it would only have destroyed the dementors and Voldemort. Probably would have saved more of the injured students, for that matter."

"True. I don't know if that would make Harry feel better or not, though."

"Aye, that's true enough."

Moody went to the small tea room the hospital had and bought himself breakfast, taking food from the small breakfast buffet. Considering where he was, he decided he could even risk taking an extra large mug of coffee.

After an extra hearty breakfast, Moody took another cup of coffee for himself and a second one, and took them down to the common wards.

Molly Weasley was just sitting by the bed, holding her still-unconscious daughter's hand when Moody showed up. Three other mothers were doing the same with their daughters. A very tired looking healer was napping in a chair in a corner.

"Molly," Moody said quietly. She lifted her tear-stained red eyes to his. He handed her the smaller coffee.

"Thank you, Alastor." she sipped it and grimaced. "And here I always thought Arthur was the only person who could make coffee worse than the Ministry Commissary."

"It's hot, bitter, and has caffeine," Moody said with a shrug. "Go to the washroom, if you need to. I'll watch the girl."

Molly hesitated, but then nodded.

Less than a minute after Molly had left, one of the twelve girls woke up. "Mummy?"

"I'm here, dear," her mother said.

"Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's, dear. You were . . . hurt."

The girl slowly shook her head. "No, Mum. I was killed, to all intents. I was dying. I was stupid. I tried to run, but then I saw those . . . those evil people were hurting the little children. . . . I saw two First years killed, Mummy. Parvati and I turned, and we tried to defend them. If we had just done that when Harry told us to, we could have wiped out the lot of them, but we all panicked."

"You're just children. . . ."

"We all knew the risks, Mum. You and Dad knew them, too, when you agreed to let me go back for the last two years. We had the training, and we failed to use it."

"I'm just glad you're alright. . . ."

Moody silently shook his head, and saw the young healer doing the same. They both recognized that near-fevered alertness, the one that sometimes came to the terminally ill just before they left.

"I'm not, Mum. I was already going, when the Power hit me. I was following Parvati and Padma. They were too far gone to come back, their spark was gone. The Power, it blew on the embers of my life, and I'm so glad. It means I can at least say goodbye."

"Good. . . ?" Mrs. Brown looked from Lavender to the Healer, who performed a quick diagnostic spell, and then shook her head, biting her lip.

"I love you, Mummy. Tell Daddy and everyone else," Lavender said, her voice growing faint. "Thank Harry for bringing me back for this, and that I'm sorry I didn't do a better job after all he did for us." She looked into some hidden distance and smiled. "Oh, Parvati! You're even more beautiful than ever now! I'm coming. . . ."

Mrs. Brown started crying and Lavender's spirit left.

The other two mothers hugged their daughters, and then came over to Mrs. Brown. Molly, who had been watching from the lavatory door, joined them as well.

After a few minutes, Molly came over. "Thank you, Alastor. I'm sure you have other things to do."

Moody nodded, and moved on. Now was not the time to remind Molly to get some rest.

Moody stalked the wards all Saturday, collecting the data transcribed by the healers and parents. A few students were even discharged.

Downstairs, Ministry officials tried to deal with the hungry wolves of the press, demanding information that would never be forthcoming, because it could never be known.

Finally, a little after 9:30 that evening, Moody made his way back to Harry's room. Dumbledore and Lupin were sitting with the boy, who was again asleep. "Has he been awake much?" Moody asked.

"Twice for about half an hour each, and about three to five minutes every hour or so," Remus answered. "He managed to have some supper."

"They let him eat?" Moody asked, surprised.

"A high-energy mix of fruit and soft ice cream," Remus answered with a smile. "There's a supply preserved in that cabinet, if he wants any more."

Moody looked at Lupin, an odder look than usual on his face.

"That is why you came, right?" Remus teased.

"Aye, it is," Moody admitted. He turned to Dumbledore. "How was the press when you talked with them?"

"As they ever are," Dumbledore admitted. "Hopefully, I have given a story plausible enough for them to believe."

"Any truth to it?" Moody asked.

"It is all true," Dumbledore answered. "However, it is far from the whole truth. Unless Harry has more answers than he has let on, we are unlikely to learn any more."

Dumbledore left, while Remus stayed another hour. Moody again settled himself down to sleep, and wait.

A slight groan woke Moody up a little after 2:00. "Need something, son?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I'm a little hungry, but mostly I want to know what's going on."

Moody summoned one of the ice cream concoctions and handed it to Harry. "What do you want to know?"

"How's Ginny doing?" Harry asked after a few spoonfuls

Moody shrugged. "Still out, which is probably a good thing. She'll probably be blind for just a week or so, but it's damn disconcerting, even when you know your sight will be coming back."

"Is that what happened to you?"

Moody nodded. "I was sent in alone to take one man, and there were seven. I took out five, but the last two stunned me, right in the face. One hit right in the eye, and I was totally blind for two weeks. Still, at least the left one works."

"You hate that thing, don't you?"

"Pretty much. It's useful, and it's better than having no sight in that eye, but that's about all I can say for it."

"Are you just tired, or did you see something bad today?"

"I saw something beautiful and sad," Moody answered. "I saw one of the students die. She was grateful that you had brought her back, if only for a limited time, because that meant she could say goodbye to her mother, and therefore her loved ones." Moody stared out into the distance. "Sometimes, not most of the time but still fairly often, just before a person dies, they have this moment of great clarity. She had that, and she said to thank you for giving that to her, and that she was sorry she didn't follow your training better."

"Who was it?"

"A Miss Brown. Blonde, quite pretty."

"Lavender was all that. Sometimes she could be silly, but she never intentionally hurt anyone that I know of," Harry said. He quietly dug into his fruit and ice cream.

"Good morning, Mad-Eye."

"Morning, Lupin."

"Did Harry wake up?"

"Three times. He ate two of the bowls of ice cream, did a few stretching exercises, and then went to sleep. We talked a little the first time, but not much the other two times."

"I wish we could do more."

Moody shrugged. "Like I said, he didn't say much, but right now, I'm guessing that after the Weasley girl, he cares most about you. So, stick around and let him learn to handle this at his own pace."

"I think he cares about you, too, 'grandad'."

Moody gave Lupin a dirty look, but then relented. "He's a nice young man. I'm going home to change, and I'll be back in two hours."

"Right."

Three hours later, as Harry was sitting up in bed and playing a Muggle card game with Remus and Moody, there was a knock at the door. At Moody's invitation, Fred and George Weasley came in.

"Let me warn you two right now," Moody growled, his wand raised, "one Wheeze out of either of you and you'll be in worse shape than me!"

Both men raised their hands in mock-surrender. "We only came to spread some good news and to say hi to Harry!" Fred said.

"Wizard's oath!" George added. Moody glared, but lowered his wand.

"What's the good news?" Remus asked.

"Ginny woke up," George said. "They gave her a light sleeping potion, but she's awake and coherent."

"Well, as coherent as she ever is," Fred added.

"That is good news," Harry agreed. "How're your mum and dad?"

"Mum had been sitting with Ginny since she was brought in," Fred explained. "The stress finally got to her early last night. She's fine, but after she passed out from exhaustion, they shipped her home. I wouldn't be surprised if they gave her something without her knowing it."

"Probably," George agreed. "Anyway, we're going back to the ward and sit with her for a while, in case she wakes up early, but then we have to do some errands for, well for later this week." The other three realized they meant for the funerals.

After Harry thanked them and they left, he turned to Remus. "Could you do me a favor?"

"I would imagine so," Remus answered.

"If there's a room available, and if it's safe, have Ginny sent someplace private," Harry requested. "I'll cover the expenses."

Remus started to say something, but finally just nodded and went off to do just that.

Moody just looked at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "It's not much, but it's the least I could do."

"Aye. I suppose. Why don't you rest some more, lad?"

"Alright, Alastor. Keep that eye peeled."

"I promise you, I will."

When Moody came back from dinner, he was surprised to hear raised voices coming from Harry's room. He then noticed that the guards in front of Harry's room were gone (although the floor guards were intact). Moody limped faster.

Moody didn't go for his wand, since he was close enough to see who was yelling and that they posed no physical threat to Harry, unless one was pushed onto his bed.

"QUIET!" Moody roared as he entered the room, and amazingly, Fred and Percy Weasley did as they were told. Moody looked at Harry, who looked pained.

"What the devil is the matter with you two!" Moody demanded in a quieter but equally stern voice.

"This idiot," Fred snarled, "decided to make a trip here just to curse out Harry."

"I am at St. Mungo's in an official capacity," Percy stated in his most imperious manner. "Some people have not signed the required forms, to verify that the magical victims will be properly cremated."

"And they sent such a sympathetic representative," Fred snarled.

"That's right," Percy snarled right back, "they sent somebody who lost a loved one." He turned on Harry. "You!" he spat, "If only Ron hadn't followed you, maybe he would still be alive."

"Yeah, right, like the people around Harry were the only victims. I don't know how you know how to tie your boots in the morning, Percy. You know things you can read, but you don't know anything about life."

"Fred," Harry said quietly.

Fred still paid attention. "Yeah, Harry?"

"Look, if there's one thing you, George, Ron, Ginny, and I have all agreed on these last three years is that Percy is a berk, right?"

"Just three years?" Fred asked, while Percy sputtered.

"I did include my name," Harry pointed out.

"True," Fred acknowledged. "Even Hermione agreed with us, and so did Neville and Luna, after they met him that one time."

"So, you know he's got to act like an ass, and I know he has to act like an ass. He's grieving, just like we are, and here he is, taking it out on me because. . . ?"

"Because he's an ass?"

"There you go. You might as well expect Snape to be friendly, Tonks to be graceful, or Alastor here to be trusting of strangers as for Percy not to be a complete berk."

Percy turned bright red. "I really don't like you Potter. Whoever else you may fool, you will never be a hero to me."

"Good," Harry said. "I never think of my self as one. I will, however, always think you're a pompous jerk. Can we agree on that, too?"

Percy growled, and stalk off, unfortunately to talk with Ginny.

"I really wish he would color his hair, so people wouldn't know he was related to me," Fred growled.

"He might be heading to Ginny's," Harry warned.

Fred sighed. "Alright. I'd better go help Fred toss him out." Harry rolled his eyes at the attempt at the old joke.

"You handled that well. No one with sense should ever pay Percy Weasley any mind," Moody said after Fred shut the door behind him. "Where are the door guards, by the way?"

"Percy ordered them withdrawn, and I'm not paying Percy a lot of attention."

"Not a lot, but a little?"

"A little," Harry admitted.

"Why?"

"Are we secure here? Just the two of us?"

Moody cast several silencing and privacy charms, and then sat and waited.

"I don't know exactly how it happened, but I tapped into a reservoir of magical power."

"Really?"

"Really. Lots of raw power, and a little knowledge. The power just went flowing through me before I knew what was going on."

"The white light."

"Exactly. If only I had gotten a grasp on the knowledge that went with it before the flow started, I could have controlled it. A lot of people who are dead would be alive, and the others would have been a lot less injured. I just wasn't quick enough."

"And is this power gone?"

Harry shook his head. "About a third of it, or a little less. And I should say, what's gone won't be replenished."

Moody thought about that. "Why tell me?"

"Who else should I trust to talk to about it? Dumbledore? After how he's controlled most of my life? Remus would mostly worry about how it will affect me, and just about everyone else would want me to use it for them."

"True. We're a selfish species, in many ways. You want to save most of that power, because you know that there'll likely be another Dark Wizard, maybe even two or three, in your life time."

"Exactly. I mean I can use a little of it here or there, like this." A bright light pulsed through the room.

"What did you do?" Moody demanded.

"How do you feel?"

Moody realized his eye and leg were still gone, but he felt a lot better. He glanced into the mirror (not something he did very often), and saw his scars were faded, and he knew his back and shoulders felt better than they had in ten years.

"That wasn't necessary, Harry."

"I know. It also mostly restored me, too." Harry sat up in the bed.

Moody sat. "I take it you want to talk."

Harry nodded. "I have enough money to live on. I was wondering if you'd like to go away with me and train me."

"Train you?"

"You were an auror for seventy-five years. You must have a lot to teach me."

Moody nodded. "I do, Harry. Who else?"

"Remus, of course, and a friend of mine named Dobby. Tonks, if she'd like."

"Don't know any Dobby."

"He's a free elf. I helped free him from the Malfoys. He works at Hogwarts, but he visited me earlier today, and I asked him to come back tonight."

"No one else?"

"The only other person left alive I could ask would be Ginny, but I don't know if I should."

"How would she feel if she wasn't asked?"

Harry grimaced.

"There, that shows you ought to ask her."

"You're right." Harry laid back. "I wonder where we should go."

"Remus told me about a place a cousin left him last year," Moody said. "It's a few miles from Perth. You know where that is?"

"Western Australia, on the Indian Ocean," Harry said promptly.

"Sound good, lad?"

"It sounds very good," Harry said.

"You do know your problems will follow you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I know." He stretched. "I'm pretty well healed, but I still need to sleep tonight. Shall we plan on making a break tomorrow night?"

Moody smiled. "Aye, lad. We'll make our escape. There's a small magical community there, and even a Gringott's branch. We can stay at Lupin's place at first, and then we can branch out if we want."

"Great, I'll talk with Remus tomorrow."

Harry sat by Ginny's side, holding her hand. Moody, Remus, and, to his slight surprise, Tonks, were all at their homes, packing away, and showing Winky what she and Dobby should bring later. Dobby was already well on his way to Perth. Harry just had one more person to ask.

Harry's heart was still heavy over his losses. He knew it would take time for him to even partially recover. Still, he was determined to make that recovery, and to carry on.

Ginny stirred, and asked, "It that you, Fred, and is it Harry?"

"It's me," Harry responded.

"I would have guessed you first, but Professor Dumbledore said you weren't likely to make it here on your own so soon. That you had drained your magic, and were physically exhausted."

"I'm more powerful than even Dumbledore can guess," Harry said in a mournful tone. "I am rather physically tired, but I'm not sleepy. I would also guess it's easier to physically recover at seventeen than Dumbledore remembers."

"That could be."

Harry smiled grimly. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"For anything in particular, or just everything?"

"I know you'll say it's not my fault, and maybe it really wasn't, but I'm so sorry about . . . that everyone is gone, except you and me."

"You mean you and I must repopulate the world? That could be fun," Ginny managed to tease.

Harry squeezed her hand. "No, you know what I mean."

"I do," Ginny admitted, now serious. "I loved them as much as you did."

"I know. You'd think after all those drills we did the last two years, more of the students would have done as they were trained to do. If they had, more of them would be alive, and maybe. . . ."

"Maybe Luna, Neville, Hermione, and Ron would be alive, too," Ginny finished.

"Exactly. Still," Harry went on, "I can't feel bad that Riddle is gone, along with most of his followers."

"I can't either," Ginny admitted. "I don't think that makes us bad people."

"No; a little vindictive, perhaps, but not bad."

"Harry, what are you going to do now?"

"Like in the next five minutes?"

"No, like in the next few years. I can't imagine you'll want to go through auror training now."

"No," Harry agreed, "I don't. When I destroyed Voldemort, I awakened power that shouldn't be accessible. Fortunately, it's mostly limited. Once I use it, I'll just be a wizard with a bit more power than anyone else. I passed out in part from gaining that power, and in part from learning how to use it."

"There will be other Dark Wizards, won't there?"

"Probably," Harry agreed. "If I have to, I can now take out of two of them like I did Riddle. I hope I don't have to."

Ginny thought about that, and realized that Harry meant his new power could be used but not replenished. "Because if you do, the third one will get you, and besides, the wizarding world will become too reliant on you."

"Exactly," Harry agreed.

"So you're going to leave, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

Ginny grabbed a hold of Harry's hand. "I don't want you to leave me alone. I know, I have a family, and a year to go. I just lost Neville, and as much as I like you, even love you, it's not like how I felt for him. But you and I have many bonds, Harry, one that we shared with Neville and Luna and Hermione and Ron. We have another, because you are a surrogate Weasley. And we have the bond we formed in the Chamber."

"I know," Harry said simply. "That's why I'm here."

"Why?" Ginny asked.

Harry stood up and considered the best way to do this. Then it hit him. Harry leaned over and gently kissed Ginny's eyelids.

When Ginny opened her eyes, they itched and things were a bit fuzzy, but she could see. "Wow," she breathed.

"What do you want to do with your life now, Ginny?" Harry asked.

Ginny knew what he was asking. They might just become very close friends, they might become lovers, they might just stay as they were, as close as any siblings could be. No matter, they needed to be together.

"I'm fully qualified. I don't need my N.E.W.T.s any more than Fred or George did. Where are we going, and when?"

"How does Perth sound? They have a Gringotts branch, and Dobby and Winky will be coming along to help out."

"Perth sounds nice, even though I don't know where it is," Ginny said with a smile.

"Western Australia, on the Indian Ocean. We'll get a small place on the ocean and watch the waves, until we're feeling better." Harry frowned. "Of course, I guess we shouldn't. Your parents. . . ."

"They'll understand," Ginny said. "We'll tell them the truth, that we need to heal together, and we'll be in touch with them and only them."

"Then to answer your 'when,' how does now sound?"

"We're hardly dressed for it, Harry."

"We will be when we get there."

"Then we'd best write that note."

Harry helped Ginny get out of bed. "Why Perth?" she asked a few minutes later as she finished the note to her parents.

"Remus inherited a place. He, Tonks, and Moody are coming along, but we can get a separate place if we want."

She smiled. "And how do we get there?"

Harry come close and helped Ginny stand. She looked into Harry's tired but smiling face.

"We're already here."

Ginny looked around, and sure enough, she was standing on a veranda. In front of them, down the slope of a hill, was the ocean.

It was time to start life afresh.