Towards the Sun

They stood in silence. Eyes peering into the open space in front of them, they were lost in thought and almost unaware they were together.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the hall on the eighth floor of the North Tower, and the owls were hooting loudly behind them; they didn't notice.

She watched a few of her fellow students running on the field, laughing, or just enjoying the bright sunrays that showered generously over them on this perfect June morning.

He watched the Giant Squid's tentacles reaching out through the sparkling waves of the lake, as graceful as dancers' arms, looking perfectly innocent and calm.

He turned his head and gazed at her pensively; she didn't notice.

The battle had been won. The war was over, and everything was back to normal.

She was startled to see him staring at her.

"What is it?"

He shook his head. "I still can't believe it."

"I know." She sighed, and then looked at the lake. "What will we do now that it's done?"

"You know you can always find a good job in science, Hermione. What about me? I'm only good at fighting Voldemort... I wouldn't be fit for an Auror."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. McGonagall told me so. She said I should consider being a Mediwizard, because of the healing spells I had to learn this year, but I don't want to stay in hospitals for more than a second at a time."

"You had your share of hospitals, Harry. It's ok. Look, there must be something you can do well and like it, too. How about..."

"What?"

"The Department of Mysteries?" she whispered, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He hardened, squared his shoulders and set his jaw, which was much more impressive now than it was when they were first years.

"You know I can't. I thought you knew better," he hissed.

"I think you should. It would help you get over... you know, and it would keep you out of the limelight. As an Unspeakable, the Ministry would be forced to protect your privacy," she said quickly.

"I can't. I can't even stand the thought of it, let alone entering the Department on a daily basis. What else is there?"

She seemed to ponder her answer for a brief moment. "I don't know, Harry. I really don't." She looked at him carefully. "You don't really want to get a job, do you?"

"No, I don't. I want to vanish. I can't vanish, can I?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Although the press would have a field day, no, you can't. The world still needs you. You're their hero."

"I'm their hero? Maybe. I'm your friend, I'm a Parseltongue, and all those other things, but none of these define me. I don't know who I am anymore. I did what I always wanted to do. I defeated Voldemort. But now it's over."

"Let us help you! Don't think you can't do anything else! You're a great wizard, and we need you! Ron and I need you so much," she said, then put a hand on his arm.

"Perhaps you don't really need me. Perhaps you only think you need me. I think you don't."

She threw her arms around him. He hugged her back. "I don't know what to do," he whispered into her ear.

"We'll help you through this." She stroked his hair. "In fact, I'll go to the Library right now and look at those leaflets. I'll find something," she said shakily. Harry wasn't convinced. She leaped off the windowsill, waved back at him and ran towards the stairs.

He watched her go, knowing she wouldn't find anything at all. He had looked at those leaflets a hundred times, and there was nothing.

The sun shone brightly over the lake. The students had gone to lunch, and the field was deserted.

"I did my work," he whispered to himself.

The squid reached an arm out of the lake, breaking the surface of the waves.

He leaped off the windowsill, on the side with the lake, and the last thing he felt before darkness engulfed him was the sun's warm rays caressing his skin.