Thicker Than Water: Year Six

Chapter 26 - The End of the War

Dedalus Diggle searched along the thick stone wall for a third time, his frustration mounting at the apparent lack of the Riddle House. His colleagues from the Order of the Phoenix were equally bamboozled as they searched the empty hillside, the small orchard and the nearby graveyard with little success. Hestia Jones had stopped abruptly in front of the largest headstone, which bore the Riddle name. Her mouth agape, she stared at it with morbid fascination; like all members of the Order, Hestia was familiar with its story and the details of the resurrection that had taken place there two years previous.

Kingsley prodded her back to the search, which she returned to with a guilty start. Meanwhile, Percy - an uninvited follower of the Aurors - was being told off by an angry Tonks. It was difficult enough searching for a house that would not reveal itself and that might be harbouring students in great danger. But to have to give justifications to the middle Weasley son, who was showing signs of hysteria and rare family sentiment, was too much for the overwrought Tonks. She was a mess: her bubblegum pink hair was falling out of its bun, her skin was still Mrs. Evangy-black, and her conservative Mrs. Evangy robes were ill-suited for the harried search.

A shout turned all heads to Dedalus Diggle who had toppled off the stone wall and pointed excitedly to the adjacent hilltop. A shimmer made the structure that was appearing look a bit like a mirage; within moments, a house had solidified, visible and whole. The Riddle House was found.

Members of the Order began to apparate towards the house but were repelled by anti-apparition charms located the length of the surrounding stone wall. They started scrambling up the hill, Percy hot on Tonks' heels, and Tonks close behind Kingsley.

An unexpected sight caused them all pause. A sparkling green vision rose and grew in the sky above the Riddle House: it was the Dark Mark. Tonks gasped in alarm, and her much shorter legs in her haste allowed her to overtake Kingsley.

Any barriers associated with the stone wall were quickly removed as Moody blasted the wall enthusiastically. Once the periphery was sundered, apparition within the grounds of the Riddle House was once again possible. Witches and wizards disappeared with loud cracks into the stately but weather-beaten home, their wands at the ready for a fight.

Percy had the words "Weasley girl presumed taken" still echoing in his ears as he apparated into the room with the Death Eaters. The first thing his eyes took in was his youngest brother holding his own against a heavy-set Death Eater; Ron fought admirably but didn't see the imminent danger Ginny was in. Percy noticed it, though, and he leapt quickly in the way of Narcissa Malfoy's and Walden Macnair's simultaneous hexes. The spells intended for Ginny hit him directly instead. Bill apparated into the room just in time to see Percy fly backwards onto the floor, his head contacting it with a crack. Body twisted and eyes wide open, Percy moved no more.

*

Baby Claude Wendell Weasley had finally fallen into a peaceful slumber. Fleur tucked his blanket around him as she settled him onto the nearest sofa. She then turned her attention to reviving Luna and Hermione who had both passed out, still holding one another's hands.

Their contribution to Harry's blood protection had gone well at first. The three young women sat in an intimate circle with Claude bundled against them, their love for Harry flowing like a current between them. Luna had her eyes closed and sat humming Mozart. Hermione's eyes had been shut in concentration, too, but when she opened them, she gasped in alarm; Luna's mood ring had gone a dull, lifeless white colour. She pointed it out to the other two. They then redoubled their efforts, projecting their love for Harry with an urgent intensity.

But the spell had been broken, and their warm thoughts replaced by those of greatest concern for their close friend. Luna's complexion was paler that usual with the effort, while Hermione's ability to concentrate had been compromised. Fleur acted as a calming force, and their emotions surged through them in an intensifying wave. It continued, all of them anxious about the lifeless ring and what state Harry might be in. And yet, their support reached Harry: Luna's humming reminded his head of his heart and gave him strength in his battle.

Unbeknownst to them all, Dumbledore too sat in rigid concentration, transmitting a simultaneous emotional stream. His will dominated his body, which struggled to stay upright in the hospital wing.

As Harry fought Voldemort, he inadvertently drew on the love that was so willingly proffered from the two Hogwarts locations. Even then, the blood protection - that unconditional love imprinted upon him by his friends - was insufficient to hold him against Voldemort's repeated application of the Cruciatus Curse. Finally, it was Ron's support - physical, but also so much more - that gave Harry the last ounce of strength to stand up again and cast the Emotus spell that sent Voldemort through the looking glass.

But Harry's hatred and rage broke through again. As his shriek of anger ripped from his throat, Luna and Hermione collapsed against the backs of their chairs, shocked as though by an overloaded current. Fleur and Claude were spared the intense surge, protected as they were by their partial Veela blood.

*

"Take me home," he had muttered weakly to Fawkes. With a rush of air and the beating of wings, Harry found himself facing the front door of the Burrow. Fawkes sang a note of comfort and Harry placed his hand on the door knob.

Inside, he saw the Burrow was deserted, the remains of a hastily abandoned supper still on the kitchen table. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, called to the battle scene, would find Percy's staring but unseeing eyes. Just like Mrs. Weasley's Boggart, thought Harry, looking at the chicken pot pie and carrots uneaten on their plates.

Fawkes swooped down upon him and started pulling at Harry's robes in the places he had been injured. Harry turned to the splendid bird and, realizing his intention, pulled off his school robe and let it fall in a heap on the Weasley's kitchen floor. Crying for the injuries he couldn't heal, Fawkes laid his head on Harry's arm and deposited the pearly, therapeutic tears.

Harry felt the cuts close and their sting lessen, but Fawkes could do nothing to lighten the heart-sick weight at the pit of his stomach. Visions of Percy, spread-eagle and lifeless, alternated with the picture of the ugly, cold look on Neville's face as he pointed his wand at Bellatrix Lestrange. Though Harry knew the war with Voldemort was over, he simply couldn't accept the cost of the victory. Mrs. Weasley would never get over the loss of Percy, with whom she was so recently reunited.

Harry muttered aloud to Fawkes, "I can't stay here, I just can't bear to see them!"

Fawkes swooped into the air in front of him, warbling his own suggestion. But Hogwarts as sanctuary was not an option, as Harry did not think he could handle the shocked looks of recognition and the endless questions.

"No, you go back without me," he told the phoenix, and strode over to the fireplace instead. Removing the lid from a small pot, he helped himself to a pinch of the powder within. Tossing it into the fireplace, Harry leaned back as the green flames shot up before him.

He stepped into the ticklish warmth of the flames and gave Fawkes one last, exhausted look. Uttering, "Carpenter's Den," Harry spun out of sight.

*

Humming tunelessly to himself, Gerry brushed the etched wooden plaque with a final coat of stain, his mind on his supper. The crackling sound in the fireplace caused him to jump slightly, but he quickly composed himself and turned to say hello to Remus.

Instead of the slim, worn-looking acquaintance - his cousin's husband - Gerry looked on with surprise as a tall boy stumbled out through the grate. He had unruly raven hair and startling green eyes, but his appearance was what really alarmed the carpenter. The unknown boy looked as though he'd been bested in a fight: torn clothes and congealed blood were augmented by a look of panic and severe mental exhaustion.

"Who are you? How did you get in there?" Gerry shouted, accustomed as he was to only seeing Remus step out of the fireplace. The incident when a gangly black boy accompanying two odd-looking characters and supporting an injured Remus had been obliviated; he did not remember it at all.

"I didn't... I'm sorry! I needed to get through..." Harry stammered frantically, backing rapidly away from the beefy man advancing on him.

He dashed for the door as Gerry pounced towards him, hand outstretched, shouting, "Oh no, you don't! I want an explanation!"

Gerry had caught the back of Harry's shirt but Harry wrenched himself from the carpenter's grasp and hurtled himself out into the corridor. He sprinted to the side door and ran from the house with Gerry behind him.

Harry was too tired to apparate to Sinéal's and, with the big man at his heels, he didn't even stop long enough to think of it. With his remaining energy - spurred on by Gerry in pursuit - Harry ran into the main street and along it towards the edge of town. The bulky carpenter could not keep up with a fit sixteen-year old boy and he soon fell back, his hollers fading as the distance between them grew.

Harry continued to run, as though he was pursued by something more than a middle-aged, out-of-shape man. In fact, his ears rang with Voldemort's final scream of realization as his soul was swallowed by the fateful mirror; with the crash of Percy's head hitting the floor; with the cruel curse that Neville used to fell Bellatrix; and with the wails he had not yet heard, those of Mrs. Weasley face to face with her worst fears come true. He ran on, Sirius' last cry of "You can do better than that!" competing with his mother's final screams that came unbidden each time a Dementor was near. Pursued by his own personal demons, Harry ran along the country road, slowing down only when he came to the field across which Remus and Sinéal's house was located.

The sun was already fading as he made it to the front door, a stitch in his side. A layer of sweat and grime covered his face and neck and further confirmed the impression that Harry was the survivor of a recent disaster. He knocked urgently at the door, and it was soon opened by Sinéal.

At the sight of him, Sinéal automatically pushed the door shut a couple of inches. She asked suspiciously, "Yes, can I help you?"

"It's me, Sinéal. Can I come in?" Harry asked, his voice tired and defeated.

"I don't know you! What do you want?" Sinéal pushed the door closer to the frame, ready to slam it of he made a sudden movement.

Harry was ready to collapse after the eventful, draining day. Overwhelmed as he was by the previous few hours, Harry hadn't even considered his altered appearance and addressed Sinéal familiarly. He put his hand out to stop the door and pleaded, "I've stayed here before, Sinéal. Won't you please let me in?"

She had started to push against his hand when she suddenly froze and stared at him with wonder. Leo, the black boy with the neat curls whom Remus had welcomed into the family, bore no resemblance to this unruly stranger with the bloodied and torn clothing. His voice and manner, however, rang a bell and Sinéal asked hesitantly, "Harry? Is... is that you?"

He nodded resignedly and said again, "Yes, it's me. I need a place to stay, if that's alright. Can I come in?"

"Of course," Sinéal threw the door open and stepped back to let him come in.

Liam was sitting in the living room and gaped at Harry when he entered, his brown eyes large and round. Full of concern, Sinéal asked, "Are you okay? Did something happen? Is Remus...?"

Harry gave her a somewhat confused look and replied, "No, the full moon... he wasn't there."

He continued to stare at her blankly but didn't say anything more. Sinéal blinked in surprise, noticing that the spots of blood on Harry's shirt were dry and that he didn't appear to be in any pain. The silence lengthened until Sinéal asked awkwardly, "Can I get you anything? Perhaps you'd like to wash? If you've been hurt, we should..."

"May I please have something to drink?" Harry interrupted. Sinéal nodded and he followed her into the kitchen. She poured a glass of milk and Harry reached eagerly for it. After throwing back the first one, Harry downed three more glasses of milk in rapid succession and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingertips.

"Er... I could get you a towel, if you'd like to shower," Sinéal said, quite taken aback by his dazed expression and silence. Harry followed her down the hall and took the towel obligingly. Once he had entered the bathroom, Sinéal returned to the living room where she was unable to answer Liam's questions about Harry's sudden appearance and altered looks.

Harry mechanically washed away traces of the battle and of his thoughtless flight, but his muscles still ached from the Cruciatus Voldemort had put him through. After drying off, he reached for his clothes and stared at the dried blood and visible rips as though he hadn't noticed them before. Emerging from the bathroom with the towel around his waist and his clothes in hand, Harry approached Sinéal and said, "I can't wear these."

"Oh! No, of course you can't!" Sinéal looked with alarm at the garments he held out. "I can lend you some of Remus' if you like."

Sinéal led the way to the master bedroom, rummaged through a small wardrobe and produced a complete set of Remus' clothing. They were, in fact, some of the very same Harry had bought for his friend the previous summer. Sinéal gingerly took the soiled clothes from him in exchange and left the room so Harry could dress.

When he came out, it was to find an anxious Sinéal hovering in the corridor. She said quietly but to the point, "Harry, what happened to you today? Did you get into a fight, or was somebody seriously hurt? Is there anybody you'd like me to try to contact?"

"I'm just really very tired," he replied, gazing distantly over her shoulder as if at something that wasn't there.

Though Harry hadn't answered her question, Sinéal understood that he wasn't being deliberately rude. Instead, he wore the look of somebody in shock. She patted his arm and said, full of concern, "You can lie down in Sean's bed for a while, if you like."

Harry nodded vaguely and made directly for Sean's room without another word. He lay down fully clothed on the bed, turned to his side and promptly fell asleep. His slumber lasted a long time: apart from a midnight bathroom visit, he slept soundly until after noon the next day.

*

A loud hammering on the door disturbed the sleeper within. The banging persisted, and he rolled over to find himself on the floor where he had finally lain to rest. Clutching his head with an ache that felt like too much Firewhiskey, he pulled himself up awkwardly and opened the chamber door.

Snape stood across the threshold, looking irate. He snapped impatiently, "Beauty rest's over, Lupin. You've got a job to do."

Remus, who was pale and sick-looking after his transformation, held unsteadily to the door frame for support. "What...? You'll have to give me a moment, Severus. What time is it? Could this job wait an hour or so?"

"You can take all the time you like or forget about it altogether, as far as I'm concerned," Snape replied coolly, surveying him through narrowed eyes. "But I'm sure you'll be eager to get going, as it's your wonder-child who's gone missing again."

"My wonder...? Not Harry!" gasped Remus.

"Yes, it seems Potter decided to take on the Dark Lord on his own yesterday, and then disappeared without informing anybody of his destination," Snape said acerbically.

"Yesterday! Dear Merlin, what happened? Just how long has Harry been gone? Was he hurt? Where have you looked for him?" stammered Remus, alarmed.

"What happened is that he and his friends went to the Riddle House after Miss Weasley, who was an honoured guest at a Death Eater initiation," said Snape expressionlessly.

Remus asked, "And Voldemort...?"

"...is gone, apparently," replied the potions master. "The rest of the Order arrived a little bit late and they're off hunting down the Death Eaters that managed to get away. Moody has decided that I should lay low, as I blew my cover last night and am now in danger from my former colleagues. I therefore haven't gone looking for Potter, and I don't know - nor am I interested in finding out - where your favourite likes to spend his leisure moments."

"Voldemort's gone," whispered Remus. "How did he do it?"

"I'm sure Potter will be glad to trumpet the details when you find him. Don't forget to ask him about the Dark Mark he conjured," answered Snape, who hadn't fully understood what had happened to Voldemort anyway. "In the meantime, I am not going to cower in Black's little hidey-hole all day. I'm presently off for Hogwarts; I have a couple of renegade students to deal with there."

He had already turned to leave when Remus said, mostly to himself, "Maybe Harry went to the Weasleys..."

Snape turned to look over his shoulder. "He most certainly did, but all they found of him there was his robe. I wouldn't count on their help, either, Lupin; they're rather preoccupied with their loss."

"Loss? Was it Ron? Or Bill?" asked Remus breathlessly, then started as her recalled that Snape had mentioned the youngest Weasley had been at the Riddle House. "Did Ginny...?"

"It was Percy," Snape said before turning with a swish of his robes and heading back down the stairs towards the dim bowels of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

Remus sank into the nearest chair and dropped his head into his hands. He was weary from his monthly, and stunned by the news Snape had so callously delivered. After a moment, though, he raised his head and spoke aloud to the empty room. "Not at Hogwarts and not at the Weasleys. Well, Harry, I'll find you yet! It just doesn't do to play hide-and-seek with a werewolf."

Conjuring a bucket of water, Remus quickly submerged his head to help rouse himself from his post-transformation stupor. Scattering the droplets with a vigorous shake of his head, he squared his shoulders and took a deep, sad breath. Then Remus followed Snape down the stairs.

*

The click of the front door alerted her to his arrival. Sinéal hurried out, a look of great concern on her face. After the briefest glance at the snowy owl perched on his shoulder, she burst out, "Oh, Remus! Thank goodness you're here! I've been nearly frantic with worry..."

Putting one hand on her hip, Remus looked directly into his wife's face and interrupted her. "Is Harry here, then, Shin?"

"Yes," she replied, "he came yesterday afternoon. I didn't even recognise him, I've only ever seen Leo... And he looked like he had been absolutely ravaged..."

"Where is he?" asked Remus impatiently, twisting his head towards the house's interior.

Sinéal led him into the living room where the lanky frame of the teen lay sprawled across the sofa, wearing Remus' clothing. The television opposite him flashed a drama and babbled quietly at the boy. Harry was fast asleep, hands folded over his midriff, loosely holding an old pair of glasses. Though Remus had heard about much of what happened the previous day, he somehow hadn't been told that Harry had shed his disguise as Leo, and had reverted to his natural looks. The sight of him peacefully resting overwhelmed Remus, who put one hand to his eyes as an unexpected sob of relief racked his chest.

Quickly throwing an arm around him, Sinéal said, "Remus?"

He shook his head and choked back the sob before replying. "He just looks so much like James did at that age, so young... so innocent! We all were; we could never have foreseen what would happen to us! But Harry, he was robbed of all that, all the things his father had! He was never allowed to have a normal life, a normal childhood..."

Again, Remus struggled to control his emotions, and drew Sinéal to him like a pillar. She held him close as Remus breathed deeply a few times. Then Sinéal pulled back and asked him, "What happened to Harry yesterday? How did he come to be here?"

"Did he say anything about it, anything at all?" Remus asked her urgently.

Sinéal shook her head. "No, he just showed up unexpectedly, out of disguise and begging for a place to stay. He slept for about eighteen hours, ate a whole pot of pasta when he woke up, then promptly fell back to sleep where he is now. He's spoken maybe a dozen words in the last twenty-four hours."

"Where's Liam?" Remus asked suddenly, noting that it was early evening and his son was nowhere to be seen.

"I had my father take him home after school. I called in sick today, I didn't know what to do for Harry, or how and when I might get a hold of you..."

"Sinéal, it was Lord Voldemort," Remus said quietly. "Harry fought him and killed him, from what I understand."

Sinéal gasped. She had heard enough about the evil wizard from Remus to know that that must have been no easy feat. "How did he manage to do that, Reem?"

"I don't know, I only found out this morning," sighed Remus. "I've been looking for Harry all day: at the Manor, at the site of his uncle and aunt's burnt-out house, even at the Weasley's joke shop in Diagon Alley. I never would have thought to look here; thank Merlin I enlisted the help of his owl in the search! But I have to wake him and find out what really happened yesterday."

"Let him sleep! He looks so peaceful and seems to need it so badly!" said Sinéal.

Remus shook his head and said, "There are a lot of people very worried about Harry who would like to know that he's okay. It's also imperative to know whether Voldemort is really gone - for good, this time?"

Hedwig hooted and flew off of Remus' shoulder and onto the back of the sofa. Remus followed her and gently shook Harry's shoulder. In a sound sleep, Harry tried batting away Remus' hand and turning onto his side. Remus persevered, though, and soon succeeded in rousing him.

Harry blinked in confusion at the ceiling then realised his glasses were in his hands and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. The frames had become somewhat too small for his face and the prescription was now off. For a moment, Harry thought longingly of Leo's 20-20 vision through Tonks-transformed eyes. Then he took in Remus and looked up at him expectantly.

"Harry, you've had us half scared to death," said Remus, now composed. "I've been searching for you everywhere. Why didn't you wait for an Order member?"

"I fulfilled the prophecy, Remus," Harry said, as though trying to excuse himself. "I needed to get away, so I came here."

"Can you tell me what happened at the Riddle House?" Remus inquired.

Harry looked silently away. Remus detected a painful flicker in his eyes and wondered if he should give the boy some time and broach the subject again after a cup of tea. He was about to suggest it when Harry began to speak of his own accord.

"Two Christmases ago, Sirius gave me a two-way mirror he had."

"I know which one you're talking about," said Remus in surprise. "He and your dad used to use it when they served detentions at Hogwarts. I'd completely forgotten about that mirror."

"I forgot about it too, but after Sirius died, I... well, the mirror broke. Luna helped me put it together again, and she figured out a way that we could make contact with the other mirror."

Harry stopped speaking, and Remus' eyes widened as he took in the ramifications of that statement. He blurted out, "You can't mean... Did you...? Did Sirius have the other mirror that night at the Ministry of Magic?"

As Harry nodded, Remus gasped hoarsely, "Did you speak with Sirius?"

Shrugging, Harry replied, "Not exactly. I mean, I got him a couple of times but it was like he was in lost in a shadow land. He drifted in and back out again, and there were others, many others there. They were all calling for revenge, shouting out for their tormentors..."

Remus rose abruptly and paced across the living room, horrified by the image. He suddenly turned and demanded sharply, "Tell me what happened with Voldemort!"

"I sent him - I mean, his spirit - I sent it through the mirror, to that other place. Those people, those shadows, some of them called out his name. I sent him to spend eternity with victims of his tortures."

Harry's voice ended in a whisper, and Remus stared at him incredulously. Finally, in a strangled voice no more than a croak, Remus asked, "Do you still have the mirror, Harry?"

"No," he replied. "I shattered it in the Riddle House. I thought I'd be happy when Voldemort was finally gone, but it doesn't bring Sirius back. It doesn't give me my parents. I shattered the mirror, and he won't be getting back out of there either."

A moment of silence was followed by Remus' quavering voice. "And then you conjured the Dark Mark?"

It was Harry's turn to look surprised as his head whipped up and he met Remus' eyes. "How did you know? I mean, yeah, I did. I didn't mean to, but they - the Death Eaters - were closing in, like a pack of mad fiends. I had to stop them somehow, make them back off..."

"And you wanted to remind them that it was you who defeated their master, right?" Remus asked sadly. "How on earth did you know how to conjure the Mark, anyway?

"That night at the Quidditch World Cup, when the Mark was conjured and Crouch's house elf was accused of doing it, we were there. Myself, Ron and Hermione were in the clearing and we heard the incantation when Barty Crouch cast it. It just came back to me last night at the Riddle House."

Remus shook his head and stared at Harry uneasily. Then he repeated, "You've had a lot of people very concerned with your disappearance. I think we should be heading back soon."

"Not yet," Harry said, shrinking back into the sofa. "I just can't bear to see them yet."

Remus surveyed him in confusion then asked, "You mean your classmates and teachers, or the Wizarding public?"

Harry shook his head and replied softly, "The Weasleys."

"Oh. That," said Remus. He sat down onto the edge of the sofa and looked awkwardly down. "I've seen them, today, when I was looking for you. Naturally, they're very upset by Percy's death. But they're also very worried about you, frightened and grateful that you saved Ginny from Merlin-knows what sort of initiation rites they had planned yesterday evening. I think they'd all be quite relieved to find out that you're all right; your bloodied robes on their kitchen floor were quite alarming."

After a pause, Remus continued. "I know it may sound odd, but in some ways, Percy's death has done more towards reconciling him with his family than any of his efforts when he was alive. At the Riddle House, he finally showed some of the family loyalty that the other Weasleys have always expected of each other. He gave his life to protect Ginny. That fact seems to be giving Molly and Arthur some comfort, and I haven't seen any of the younger Weasleys so willing to stand up for their brother's recent behaviour as they were today."

Listening to his older friend's words, some measure of relief seemed to trickle into Harry's heart. But there was another thing that equally bothered him. "Remus, I saw Neville kill Bellatrix Lestrange. The look on his face... After last night, we may be Wizarding heroes, but what have we become?"

Remus shook his head, and said, "Neville didn't kill her, at least not according to what I heard today. The Minister of Magic, Diggory, arrived at the Riddle House when the fighting was pretty much over. He was accompanied by several Dementors. From what I understand, Bellatrix was one of the detained Death Eaters that succumbed to a Dementor's kiss."

As Harry pondered this, Sinéal approached and Remus got up to converse quietly with her. He soon turned back to Harry and suggested, "Why don't we spend another day here? It'll give you a bit more time to yourself, and we can head to the Weasleys tomorrow. Sinéal's got supper on, and I can send Hedwig with messages to Hogwarts and to the Weasleys that you're alright. They can notify the rest of the Order."

"Have they all been looking for me?" Harry asked.

"No," said Remus, "They've spent last night and today tracking down the remaining Death Eaters, whoever got away from the Riddle House yesterday. Hunting, as Severus called it."

Harry scowled at the name of his Potions teacher. Sinéal came to request Harry's assistance preparing their meal - apparently with the intention of keeping him busy and distracted - and Remus took the opportunity to go write a couple quick letters informing of Harry's whereabouts.

Grateful to have an extra day without the prying and questioning his reappearance was bound to excite, Harry nonetheless went to sleep that night with a guilty feeling. He should have stuck around to make sure his friends were okay at the Riddle House. But the Aurors and members of the Order had already arrived when I left, Harry told himself. He should have stayed at the Burrow to help comfort the Weasleys when they returned. But they were a large family, and would support each other. And at Hogwarts, Luna was bound to be worried about him. He had only just realised that the pendant she gave him was gone, and wondered what colour Luna's mood-indicator was showing.

Harry fell asleep late, thinking about Luna and about his friends, and wondering what the atmosphere at the Weasleys' would be like. But his night was cut short when Remus appeared at the doorway of Sean's room at the crack of dawn.

"Change of plans, Harry," he said wearily, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. "Hedwig's just brought me a note from Hogwarts. Dumbledore's health has taken a turn for the worse, and he's requested your presence in the hospital wing."

It took little time for the two to get ready and for Remus to take leave of Sinéal. They apparated just outside of Hogsmeade; Remus didn't feel comfortable preparing a portkey for the Headmaster's office without his permission, and he insisted the cool morning air would do him some good.

"You do look a little grey around the edges," Harry commented as they started the walk up to Hogwarts.

"It hasn't even been a day since the full moon," Remus replied, "and I didn't exactly have a chance to sleep it off. Speaking of complexions, Sinéal said you looked raked over the coals when you arrived and that your clothes were torn. How is it you didn't have any open wounds? Or have you been practicing Healing Charms on yourself?"

"Fawkes took care of them," said Harry. "You know, Dumbledore's phoenix."

"Yes," said Remus with a curious look, but he didn't ask any more questions and they arrived at the school grounds in silence. A pale sun was just making its appearance in a clear sky.

The first person to cross their paths was Mr. Filch who emerged, breathless, from behind a tapestry as they walked across the Great Hall. Instead of interrogating them, he halted abruptly and stood slack-jawed, amazed by the sight of Harry, as they walked past and headed towards the hospital wing.

They entered Madam Pomfrey's domain to find Professor McGonagall, still wearing her tartan dressing gown and slippers, pacing outside a curtained area at the end of the ward. She glanced up and, seeing Harry, pursed her lips tightly as tears filled her eyes. Turning her brisk steps towards them, Professor McGonagall walked over and put one hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Mr. Potter, I can't believe all this year, you've been parading around Gryffindor under my very nose. And yet you could have been killed! Why didn't you say something before running off the other day? You should have told me!" she said reprovingly. The next moment, in an affected voice, she choked out, "Oh, dear boy, what you've been through! After we heard what happened and that you had disappeared, we thought the worst..."

"I'm not going to lose any house points, am I?" Harry asked dryly, peering over at the cordoned off space beyond her.

"Of course not! I'm so glad to have you back!" said Professor McGonagall, with a couple of emotional sniffs. One more squeeze of his shoulder and she hurried off out of the hospital wing, tears running down her cheeks.

Madam Pomfrey had emerged from her office, and rushed over to give Harry a spontaneous, warm embrace. She congratulated him on his great achievement at the Riddle House and then immediately switched into clinical mode. Though Harry insisted that Fawkes had closed and healed any cuts he had, Madam Pomfrey began insisting on a complete check up, saying that it would unacceptable for him to return from the dead, defeat You-Know-Who, only to fall ill from negligent treatment.

Remus noticed Harry's discomfort and turned the subject by asking, "Poppy, how is Albus doing? The note we received this morning made it sound critical that we arrive as soon as possible."

"Ah, yes," Madam Pomfrey said with a frown. "He's been sick all week, but another couple days of potions should have done the trick. During the incident involving You-Know-Who the other night, he suddenly sat up and went into what seemed like a trance. Whatever he was concentrating on drew all his remaining energy. Then suddenly, he went rigid and collapsed onto the bed. He has been in a deep sleep almost continuously since. We were able to get some information out of him last night, though, something about a blood-potion and Harry's name. I take it he gave Harry some of his own blood during a protective ritual earlier this year, and the implementation of the blood protection completely drained him."

"I didn't know," Harry said in a whisper. Looking over at the curtains again, he asked, "Can I go see him?"

"He's asleep right now. His vital signs have been weak all night, but you can go sit beside him for a few minutes," agreed Madam Pomfrey.

Harry pushed back the curtain and looked down at the sleeping Headmaster. Since the last time he had seen him, the old wizard had aged. His pasty skin looked like old parchment, and his breathing was shallow. Harry stared for a moment in shock; he had beheld death, sudden and man-made, but had never actually witnessed the ravages of time and over-exertion on a person. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he lowered himself onto the edge of the bedside chair.

"It's usually you who comes visiting me in the hospital wing," Harry whispered, though he was talking to himself.

To his surprise, Dumbledore's eyes flickered open and the Headmaster inclined his head towards Harry. "Ah, Harry, I see you made it then."

Dumbledore's voice was raspy, and he stopped speaking to gulp weakly at the air. Then he said, "Tell me how you did it."

Harry began the story. He told Dumbledore about overhearing the conversation between Bellatrix Lestrange and the Slytherin students. He described how he was able to get around Voldemort's Fidelius Charm protecting the Riddle House, by extracting the information directly from Voldemort using Occlumency. Dumbledore smiled when Harry told him about using the Invisibility Cloak to visually multiply himself - as taught to him by Moody - that give him the edge when he first walked in on the Death Eaters. Then Harry told Dumbledore all about the mirror Sirius had given him, and how he had used Luna's Emotus Charm to trap Voldemort through that portal.

"I always remember at the Ministry foyer last year when you told Voldemort that there were some things worse than death," Harry explained. "And then, all of a sudden, I knew what I had to do. And for a moment, Voldemort comprehended it too."

Harry fell silent, not knowing how to explain that sending Voldemort to the netherworld beyond the veil seemed somehow more just and, at the same time, was easier than actually killing him. He finally said aloud, "But even if it was the necessary thing to do, was it right? How can I live with myself having ended one life to appease the tormented spirits of so many others?"

"By your blood he was resurrected, by your hand he fell into a pit of his own making," said Dumbledore weakly. "Harry, you can not always be torn in two by the consequences of this preordained battle. You must be one and whole for a long time yet. I'm sorry I will not be around to see you flourish."

"Sure you will!" exclaimed Harry in alarm. "Madam Pomfrey will have you better in no time! But you've been sick, you should never have added your own blood to my protection, Professor!"

"I gave hope to wizard-kind, I keep none for myself," said the once-powerful old Headmaster. "It is the folly of youth to fear death..."

"No!" cried Harry, instinctively grabbing Dumbledore's hand, which lay cold and limp in his own.

"...the next great adventure," murmured Dumbledore. He gave Harry a weak smile, and closed his eyes. His chest barely rose and fell as he laboured to catch shallow breaths.

Harry stumbled out of the curtains and willingly sat down on the bed Remus led him to. Professor McGonagall returned, dressed, and other teachers trickled in as the early morning hour progressed. Some appeared shocked to see Harry, others hurried over to clap him on the back and congratulate him on the defeat of Voldemort. Numb and saddened by his interview with Dumbledore, Harry gave scanty acknowledgement to their sentiments. Snape came in briefly and threw Harry a cool glare before moving on to talk to Madam Pomfrey.

Professor Panthera limped into the hospital wing, and immediately caught sight of Harry. He made his way over and sat down on the bed beside him. He gave Harry a penetrating look then shook his grizzled mane. "I have been a fool, Mr. Potter, a fool and a coward. I might have guessed that Leo Evangy came by his skills for defensive duelling naturally. You know I fought a couple of times alongside your father?"

Harry looked at him in surprise and shook his head. Panthera continued, "A long time ago, during the first war, I joined Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. We were badly organised and outnumbered in our battles, but your father was always a brave and quick fighter. I was known as Caradoc Dearborn back then, before the Death Eaters abducted and detained me."

The name sounded familiar, and Harry listened attentively to the Defence teacher's tale. "I was held by You-Know-Who's followers for a few months, and repeatedly tortured. When I was inadvertently freed, I didn't rejoin the Order; instead, I ran away.

"I created an escape for myself, a place where I could be all-powerful and not have to deal with the memory of that detainment. It was a magical world, a place which I meant to keep innocent of such evil as You-Know-Who spread, but - alas! Unsullied innocence never wholly exists, not even in fantasy.

"When Dumbledore asked me to return to teach here, promising to keep my identity a secret, I agreed but did not return to aid the Order of the Phoenix in its time of need. When I caught you in your extra defence training session, Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye out for you. And now I hear your story, and it smothers me in a cloak of shame and unworthiness. In spite of the odds - your age and lack of support and experience with You-Know-Who's dark magic - you still faced the Dark Lord, and conquered him. And I - I simply ran away." Panthera uttered those last words quietly and looked glumly down at his feet, an abashed expression on his lined face.

"After what you went through, it doesn't make you a coward, though," Harry said sympathetically.

"Ah, but it does," Panthera replied. "I have to live with my own decisions. I can roar with the best of them, but for hard action... failure appears to be my destiny."

Something about Panthera's words connected the Defence teacher to the great tawny beast at the edge of Hogwarts' grounds, when Harry had tried to follow Bellatrix Lestrange and the Slytherins to Hogsmeade. He asked, "Sir, do you know anything about that lion?"

"It's a form I take to bolster my sense of being powerful. Another illusion I chose to create," said the man. Harry didn't say anything, and Panthera soon rose to inquire after Dumbledore's health then quietly left the hospital wing, shoulders slumped in self-recrimination.

Harry's thoughts lingered on Caradoc Dearborn a.k.a. Professor Panthera, and how Voldemort's followers had shattered his life, too. His short night soon caught up with him, though, and Harry dozed off. He was awakened by a deep, resonating howl, the unmistakable sound of grief. Sitting bolt upright, Harry looked around and Remus hurried to his side.

"Professor Dumbledore just took his last breath," he said sadly.

At that moment, Hagrid emerged from behind the curtains that cordoned off the deceased Headmaster. He caught sight of Harry and staggered over, wailing loudly.

"Oh, Harry, Dumbledore gone! And me brother killed, and all of yer family too!" sobbed Hagrid. "Best Headmaster Hogwarts ever seen! Where would this school be without him? He gave me my chance in life, otherwise where'd I be now? Great man - gone! But yer alive! You an me, Harry, we're survivors, both orphans, all alone... At least I still got you, Harry. At least you came back ter us...!"

It took four professors to haul Hagrid off of Harry, where he had collapsed in wild despair, in search of solace. Professor Flitwick glanced sadly back towards Dumbledore's bed before leading the inconsolable Hagrid out of the hospital wing, still howling .

Remus extended a hand to help Harry off of the bed, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Harry blinked at him, still disoriented from his nap, and said, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?"

"It's just coming on breakfast time, you didn't sleep all that long," said Remus, glancing at his watch. "Harry? Harry, where are you going?"

Harry halted halfway out of the hospital wing and looked back towards the curtains where Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall could be seen consoling one another.

"I just have to get out of here," answered Harry, and he sprinted the length of the ward and ran out the door.

*

Luna pushed her toast around her plate, and tried to block out the constant prattle of her housemates. All the students, of course, knew of Voldemort's defeat, and the rumour had spread like wildfire that Harry Potter had arisen from the dead to strike the final blow.

Cho Chang's voice grated above the rest. "I never believed Harry was dead! They say he's been in an enchanted sleep and that a Death Eater accidentally woke him. I wonder if he dreamed about me at all? We were so close last year; oh, I'm so happy to hear he's back to life!"

Luna winced at the thoughtless chatter, and her eyes misted over as she wondered where in the world Harry was. Fleur had revived her and Hermione from a dead faint a couple of nights back. Certain that something momentous had happened, the three girls parted and fanned out around Hogwarts to try to obtain some information. Luna had been unable to find anyone who would take her seriously when she asked for news about Voldemort. The caretaker, Filch, accused her of loitering and told her to be off to supper with her classmates. Dumbledore's office was inaccessible, and when she asked Professor McGonagall if she could see the Headmaster, the strict teacher impatiently waved her away with the comment that Dumbledore was not seeing student at the present time. Luna took that to mean that something had actually happened to Voldemort, and hurried off to find Hermione.

After nearly a quarter of an hour in the corridor outside Gryffindor Tower, a fourth year student came out, and Luna asked if she could fetch Hermione. The student emerged a few minutes later to say that Hermione was not in the House, and that nobody had seen her since she left Potions earlier. She couldn't find Hermione in the Great Hall, and there was no sign of Fleur and Claude either. Finally, she returned to Ravenclaw House. Luna kept to herself as the common room filled up for the evening. She left a few times to continue her search, but her efforts were fruitless.

However removed Hogwarts was from the Wizarding World, though, it didn't take long for news of Voldemort's downfall to trickle into the school. Owls began tapping on Ravenclaw windows, bringing their owners messages about an apocalyptic battle between Death Eaters and Dumbledore-supporters; about the sudden emptying of the Ministry of Magic as all its employees rallied against the forces of evil; and even one wild tale about inebriated patrons of the Three Broomsticks and of the Hogshead uniting to corner Death Eaters in the Shrieking Shack. No one reasonable account could be gathered, but the bottom line was that You-Know-Who had been vanquished, terminated, and had gone Who-Knew-Where.

Luna hung on all the news as it was eagerly and vociferously spread amongst the students. Ambassadors from other Houses braved the curfew to come and swap the contents of their own messages with those received in Ravenclaw. Harry Potter's name began to pop up, and people whispered loudly that he had been resurrected from his grave the previous summer and turned into an Inferus trained to kill You-Know-Who, or that he had never died in the first place.

The following day was chaotic, and painstaking for Luna. Classes were taught by distracted teachers or were sporadically cancelled. Nobody had seen Professor Snape, which fuelled further wild rumours. Luna was unable to get any answers from her professors about the stories concerning Harry, and whether he was alright or not. They, too, were stunned by the news that he had returned to fight Voldemort.

Hermione appeared to have left Hogwarts altogether. In all the hubbub, her absence and that of a handful of other students seemed to be generally overlooked. Only Neville sought Luna out. He and Eloise intercepted her in the Entrance Hall after the lunch hour, and asked if she'd heard how Harry was doing. Neville appeared to be surprised when she tearfully admitted she had no clue where he was, and hadn't seen him since the previous day.

"I knew he was in danger and I can feel that he's still alive, somewhere, but nobody can tell me anything," she said.

Neville sympathetically patted her arm and told her, "I was with him yesterday. I think he was injured but most definitely alive and upright when he disappeared."

He recounted the previous day's events for Luna, including his own role in capturing a wanted Death Eater, and Harry's sudden disappearance from the scene near the end of the battle. "After that, I don't know where he went. I was hauled in to Auror's headquarters for questioning and escorted back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey was supposed to look me over, but she was terribly busy and my guard let me return to Gryffindor. I was hoping you could tell me something, but I think we've been forgotten."

Luna shook her head disbelievingly, then asked if Neville had seen Hermione. He replied, "She's probably with the Weasleys. After Ron's brother died..."

At the surprised look on Luna's face, Neville abruptly stopped talking. Eloise took it upon herself to fill in the extra information. They soon departed, and Luna was left to get through the remainder of the day alone, and in sadness. She spent as much time as possible in her dorm-room, finding only futility in the excited rumours that abound.

And now, the second morning since Harry's, Ginny's, Ron's, and Hermione's disappearances found Luna dispirited and having to endure Cho Chang's silliness about her boyfriend. Most of the students were already down at breakfast, though there was a definite lack of teachers at the head table. After their preoccupation of the day before - when teachers were often found congregating in the halls to share news, or abruptly hurrying out of classrooms - the students didn't find anything strange about the fact that they had been left under the sole supervision of Professor Trelawney. Ignoring her usual oddities, hardly anybody even noticed that she sat crying into her coffee.

A sudden tingling in her fingertips caused Luna's hand to jerk, and knock over her cup of tea. It flowed across the table and off the other side, onto Cho's lap. The older girl shrieked, "What's gotten into you, Luna?"

"He's back," whispered Luna, dumbfounded, as she stared at her hand.

"Who is?" spat Cho in disgust, mopping her robes with a napkin. Some of the other Ravenclaw girls snickered.

"Leo," Luna said, and she quickly stood up.

Just then silence began to spread from the doorway of the Great Hall, and heads began to turn. Harry had come into the Hall and was striding towards the Ravenclaw table. A full hush descended before somebody began to clap. In no time, a majority of Hogwarts' students were standing up or climbing on chairs, stamping and whistling in excitement: here was the legendary Harry Potter, back from the dead, having defeated the evil Lord Voldemort for a second time! The adulation was spontaneous this time, when there was no Dumbledore to draw attention to the brave Gryffindor.

Luna pushed her way past the cheering, jostling students, to get to the head of the table. As Harry walked towards her, the crowd parted to let him pass, and he caught Luna in his arms. He pulled her close and planted a long, passionate kiss on her lips. The noise redoubled, as the applause turned to hollering and appreciative catcalls.

Harry pulled back, as if just noticing the mayhem around him. He began to lead Luna out of the Hall. They were nearly at the door when Neville stepped out in front of them. The two boys gave each other meaningful looks then Neville pulled Harry into an embrace. With his two friends flanking him, Harry left the Great Hall.

*

The next few days were an emotional blur for Harry. He and Luna joined the Weasleys for Percy's funeral in a small cemetery just outside Ottery St. Catchpole. It was a very small service with only immediate family, themselves, Hermione, and a few members of the Order. This surprised Harry who knew that, in spite of Mr. Weasley's lowly position at the Ministry, he was very popular both there and amongst his colleagues at the Order of the Phoenix. Percy, too, had been well-connected at the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione told him and Luna that the Weasleys had deliberately chosen to keep the funeral small in order to include Harry, but to spare him the discomfort of being in the public eye. Shortly after the fighting had ceased at the Riddle House, Bill had managed to convey the news of Percy's death to Fleur, who had found Hermione at Hogwarts and brought her along to the Burrow. Though at first she had been concerned with sending Luna word of where they were going, Hermione completely forgot after they arrived at the Weasleys.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get in touch with you," Hermione said to Luna, looking ahead at the knot of redheads as they accompanied the Weasleys back to the Burrow. "The family's had such a hard time the last few days, and they were so worried about you when they got home and found out you had been there. Ron's having a hard time - he's kicking himself for not having made it up with Percy before..."

"How is Mrs. Weasley taking it?" asked Harry.

"Oh, you know... but she's got the rest of her family around her. I think it's Ginny they're all worried about." Harry and Luna looked at her in surprise, and Hermione continued in a low whisper. "Apparently, she's been having nightmares all this year, about the Tom Riddle from the diary. Mrs. Weasley's kicking herself for not having helped her deal with the trauma years ago, but Mr. Weasley's of a different opinion: he's asked Bill if it was possible that Voldemort was using Legilimency to torment her. Snape's exclusion from the gathering the other night likely means that his loyalties were in question, and Ginny may have been targeted as an inadvertent spy against the Order.

"Voldemort probably never got that far with Ginny - after all, she knew you were still alive, but that was a surprise to Voldemort. Still, she was already rattled before Malfoy abducted her, and coming face to face with Voldemort... well, you can imagine! She won't tell anybody what he said to her, but she's woken up screaming every night. She hardly eats, and she's withdrawn from everybody, even Fred and George can't get a laugh out of her. In fact, I'd have to say she's even worse than you were last year, after you had that vision of the snake attacking Mr. Weasley."

"Maybe I'll go talk to her," suggested Luna. "I sometimes have a way of knowing how people are feeling."

She went on ahead to join the Weasleys. Harry watched as she caught up with them, and tried to engage Ginny in conversation. Then he turned back to Hermione, and asked, "Has Ron said anything? About that night?"

She nodded, and Harry went on, "I'm not sure I could have made it without him. Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse. I thought I would collapse, but he really shored me up. Gave me the strength to finish it, you know what I mean?"

Hermione looked as though she was going to cry. Finally, she said, "Yes, he makes me feel that way, too, sometimes."

They arrived back at the Burrow. Charlie came over to clap Harry on the shoulder and thank him for going after Ginny. Fred and George tried to keep baby Claude amused; their antics seemed deflated, though, and only succeeded in making Claude cry. Bill comforted Mrs. Weasley, who finally betook herself to the kitchen in an effort to remain busy and distract herself from thinking about her middle son. Kingsley followed her, saying loudly that this was one night she wouldn't have to cook; he was a master of quick meals. Tonks followed Kingsley with her eyes, but didn't pursue him there. Instead, she went over to Remus, Fleur and Luna, who stood talking quietly in the hall.

Ron, Hermione and Harry stood awkwardly around the living room, watching Mr. Weasley and Ginny. Ginny was seated on the sofa, staring listlessly at the floor while Mr. Weasley tried quietly to draw her into conversation. Eyes glazed with her own thoughts, Ginny seemed oblivious to his efforts and didn't answer. Finally, Hermione interrupted by asking Mr. Weasley a mundane question about the Order of the Phoenix. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from his youngest daughter, and came over to talk with them in the centre of the room.

The Order would all meet at Hogwarts the following day for Dumbledore's funeral. Most of the Death Eaters had been caught. Only a few remained at large, but other Death Eaters had revealed their names, and the Aurors were put in charge of apprehending them. Apart from Percy's death, there had been no other losses among the Order or the Aurors who arrived later. There were numerous injuries, though, and Mr. Weasley dully reiterated who he had heard was at St. Mungo's and who had been released after being treated by mediwizards at the scene.

Kingsley appeared at the door of the kitchen, clad in an apron and announcing that supper was ready. Though the meal was a far cry from the standard of food usually served in Mrs. Weasley's home, the company was too preoccupied to notice what - if anything - went into their mouths. It was soon time for Remus and Kingsley to take their leave, but Tonks stayed offered to take the silent Ginny up to her room. She had spent the whole supper hour looking at the silent girl and recalling her own ordeal when she was a girl close to that age.

Harry followed Ron up to his attic bedroom, and the two boys undressed in silence. Harry turned to Ron and asked, "Is Ginny...?"

"She'll be okay," answered Ron, as though trying to convince himself. "She's just in shock right now."

Harry nodded, and then they both started to say simultaneously, "I'm glad you're..."

They both fell mute. The two friends looked at one another, and then Ron abruptly tossed Harry his second pillow for the bed that had been made up on the attic floor. As Harry dropped onto the mattress, Ron flicked his wand towards the lantern and its light flickered out.

"Well, good night Harry," he muttered. It took a remarkably short time for the two emotionally drained boys to fall asleep.

*

The day dawned golden and breezy, with random clumps of clouds rushing across the blue sky. Harry dreaded attending Dumbledore's funeral: it would bring home the reality of Dumbledore's death. He thought of the sad irony that Dumbledore had presided over Harry's own funeral almost a year before, sham that it was.

In spite of her own loss, Molly Weasley was more concerned about Harry, and spent the morning alternatively fussing over him and tiptoeing around his melancholy mood. Bill had brought her the word on the street from Diagon Alley: it seemed that everybody knew that Harry was going to be at Dumbledore's funeral, and that many from the Wizarding World - from the media on down - intended to be there to gawp at the even-more famous Harry Potter, in spite of the fact that the service was meant to mark the passing of one of the greatest wizards that had ever lived.

Portkeys had been approved for Harry, his friends, and all of the Weasleys directly to the chamber adjoining the Great Hall at Hogwarts. They were met there by a delegation of Aurors, who were to accompany them down to the grounds. A scuffle broke out when Tonks caught one of her colleagues letting a journalist into the chamber, and Rita Skeeter had to be bodily carried out by two other Aurors. This led to loud arguing and accusations until finally, using his great height and authoritative voice, Kingsley negotiated a guard from the Order of the Phoenix to accompany Harry and his friends. Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and Mad-Eye took their places ahead of the group, with the slighted Aurors skulking behind. The Weasleys, Luna and Hermione huddled protectively around Harry as they stepped out of the chamber and made their way to the Hogwarts grounds, not far from where the entire school had once gathered to welcome the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegation a few years earlier.

The large crowd began to part to let them through, but the peace was short lived. All of a sudden, a surge of wizards and witches closed in, trying to get a closer look at Harry. A bright flash of light indicated encroachment by The Daily Prophet's camera-crew. Mad-Eye Moody stepped up and waved his wand menacingly. It emitted a bright spark of light with a sudden bang, and all of the people drew back again.

The Weasleys pushed their way past, aided by members of the Order, who looked like they meant business. Another crush was averted, but the whispers followed Harry.

"...heard he was an Inferus, and that he's come back from the dead!" came one awed croak.

"Nonsense! He magically cloned himself: they say that a hundred of 'im marched in on them Death Eaters. But there's only one 'Arry Potter, there is!"

Another voice whispered excitedly, "As I live and breathe, he's the very spirit of old Dumbledore himself, come back after defeating You-Know-Who to inspire us with the form of that poor dead Potter boy!"

"What utter rubbish!" muttered Hermione furiously from a few paces behind Harry. "How anybody can believe such a load of garbage is beyond me!"

They made it to the area that had been cordoned off for their group as well as for other Ministry VIPs. Several Ministry officials welcomed Mr. Weasley with their polite condolences on his loss, and most twisted their heads to stare at Harry. Only one person actually came over: old Griselda Marchbanks walked up to Mrs. Weasley and took her face between her veined and weathered hands; she then pulled the redheaded matriarch into a sympathetic embrace. The old woman turned to Harry next. She squeezed his hands in hers, with surprising strength.

"Such a sad day! He was such a great man," sniffled Griselda Marchbanks before turning and walking back to the Minister of Magic. Amos Diggory did not make eye contact with Harry, but cleared his throat and stepped up to the podium that had been set up on the Hogwarts lawn.

"Sonorus!" he murmured into his wand, and Diggory's voice was suddenly magnified over the remaining coughs and whispers. "We're gathered here today to pay homage to a tremendous wizard, the likes of whom is only seen once in a millennium."

Diggory listed Dumbledore's many titles and the honours bestowed upon him. He then enumerated the estimable contributions Dumbledore had made to the Wizarding World: his studies of dragon blood, and its furtherance of the field of alchemy; his interspecies peace-gestures which had averted more than one war with the magical creatures of Britain; and the defeat of the evil wizard Grindelwald in the first half of the twentieth century.

When the last point was mentioned, the sound of shuffling broke out as people turned or cocked their heads to get a better look at Harry. He squirmed uncomfortably, and Luna pulled closer to him, wrapping her arm around Harry's back.

Diggory had continued and was now wrapping up his speech. "...But above all, Albus Dumbledore was an educator. Thousands of wizards and witches have honed their own skills under his guidance and tuition, including many of us here. It is therefore apt that his final resting place is here, on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the venerable Professor reined over his long and accomplished tenure."

As he was about to signal for the burial to begin, Griselda Marchbanks marched up to the podium and impatiently yanked his wand from the Diggory's hand. He was reluctant to let go of it, and the security wizards that served the Minister's office began to step forward. But then Diggory waved them away, and took a polite step back from the ancient witch.

Her voice cracking with age and wisdom, Griselda Marchbanks began her own eulogy of Albus Dumbledore. She painted a much more humane and colourful picture of Dumbledore, from school-age midnight duels and Transfiguration pranks to the personal and heart-wrenching losses he had sustained at the hands of Grindelwald in the years before that dark wizard's defeat.

She painted a portrait, not of a fallen hero, but of an extraordinary wizard who had brought goodness to the world through his generosity, wit and keen humour. The gathered spectators, who had continued to whisper and cough throughout Diggory's speech, fell silent and hung on the old woman's words. For Harry, they brought back the memory of Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, and the twitch of his beard that meant he was hiding a smile.

When she finished speaking, Marchbanks handed Diggory back his wand, and he called for the pall-bearers. Hagrid picked up the hardwood coffin, with token assistance from a few Ministry VIPs, and carried it over to the hole that had been dug beneath a towering willow. Bawling loudly, Hagrid shovelled the first few clumps of earth onto the coffin before turning and striding wretchedly away towards his cabin. Professor McGonagall picked up the fallen shovel and added her spade-full into the hole. She was followed by Professors Flitwick and Vector as, one by one, the Hogwarts teachers paid their respects to the former Headmaster.

Watching them, Harry didn't notice that Professor McGonagall had come up beside him. She pointed towards the grave, and led Harry to take a turn covering Dumbledore's remains for his long slumber. He numbly scooped up a mound of earth but, before dropping it, looked down for a long time at the edges of the coffin that still showed beneath the dirt.

As he emptied the spade into the hole, an excited spectator could no longer restrain herself. She cried out, "Three cheers for the defeater of You-Know-Who! Three cheers for Harry Potter!" And an inappropriately large number of people responded with three resounding cheers.

Disgusted, Harry let the shovel drop and turned on his heel. Not waiting for his guard, he strode angrily away from the crowd, towards the school. Within moments, Hermione and Ron had caught up with him, and a heartbeat later, so had Luna and Bill. They hurried through the main doors into the Entrance Hall, and steered Harry back up to Gryffindor Tower.

In spite of the Fat Lady's protests, Bill sealed the portrait-hole behind them. Seated in his favourite chair in the empty common room, Harry finally got a couple hours of peace, surrounded by his close friends in one of the few places that really felt like home.

*

Professor McGonagall quickly resumed classes after Dumbledore's burial, insisting the year would not be lost after the death of their Headmaster. Grumbling, students returned to their regular timetables, while the fifth and seventh years immersed themselves in their respective OWL- and NEWT-review classes. Only Ginny was exempted from taking OWLs. The trauma of her meeting with Voldemort lingered, and she was receiving regular counselling at the Chor Barosh day-clinic at St. Mungo's. In addition to her appointments, she spent weekends at the Burrow with her concerned parents, and spent little time amongst her friends.

After the initial excitement of having Harry back in their classes, the teachers returned to an orderly culmination of the year's academic curriculum. The exception was Snape. Harry tried to maintain his composed performance from throughout the year, but his tolerance for the greasy potions master gave way under the man's icy glares. Though Snape tried his best to ignore Harry in Potions class, he couldn't avoid contact when it came time to submit the day's potion-sample. With a pulsating vein and clenched teeth, Snape would break eye-contact and turn away from Harry, seething with continued disapproval.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent their evenings keeping Luna company in the library as they prepared for exams, and she for her OWLS. Neville and Eloise occasionally joined their study sessions, but they preferred the earthy seclusion of the greenhouses to the tense silence of the library. When they arrived at the library, other students congregated around Harry, and girls sometimes waited at their regular table hoping to get autographs. A few threatening words and well-placed Banishing spells by Madam Pince was generally enough to restore the calm.

While studying, Harry often caught Ron glancing his way as though relieved to see his best friend in the flesh, seated opposite him. He sometimes opened his mouth to talk, but then closed it again. Inevitably, the conversation between them always ended up on safe subjects: Quidditch, exams, random gossip from Gryffindor Tower. Ron never talked to Harry about Percy, and only rarely mentioned how Ginny was coming along.

Hermione held back from interfering in the two boys' still-distant demeanour towards one another. She did, however, confide to Harry that "Ron has been withdrawn since that night at the Riddle House. I sometimes wonder if he'll ever be happy again."

And what about me? thought Harry in silence. But instead of discussing that night with Ron, he found his own solace in Luna's kisses. They spent her rare leisure moments alone in the dungeon music hall or in the Room of Requirement, locked in each other's arms. But even Luna's best therapy couldn't keep Harry's dreams free of Voldemort's last shriek as his spirit was sucked into Sirius' mirror, and into its eternal trap.

And then exams were upon them. Luna passed through the gruelling OWLs with an off-hand composure that seemed to drive Hermione crazy. In spite of her revision tables, Ron put off studying and had to resort to an all-nighter to get through their Transfiguration exam. Harry went through his exams with less anxiety than usual: this year, his final grades didn't quite seem as important as they always had. Having kept up with his studies throughout the year, combined with the frequent tutorials he gave Luna, Ginny and Neville, meant that his efforts near the end were more than sufficient. Even Snape had to reluctantly give him a final grade of Excellent. Harry thought his Head of House must have had something to do with that.

During the last few days of school, Harry received a message at lunch from Professor McGonagall. She wrote that Professor Dumbledore had left Harry a personal keepsake, and that he should come up to the Headmaster's office after classes to get it.

Throughout the afternoon, Harry wondered what it was. Hermione thought Harry would receive some of Dumbledore's advanced magic textbooks, while Luna suggested he would get Dumbledore's Penseive. Ron figured it was another Invisibility Cloak or perhaps Quidditch robes that Dumbledore had worn when he was much younger. Thinking of the many objects that adorned Dumbledore's desk and bookshelves, and how they represented the late Headmaster, Harry walked slowly up to the stone gargoyle that guarded the office. It let him pass to the slowly revolving staircase behind it.

It had been a difficult few weeks being in Hogwarts without Dumbledore around. During classes, Harry would picture Dumbledore at his desk, only to remind himself that he wasn't actually there. Even those reminders, though, weren't enough to prepare him for the shock of entering the Headmaster's office.

Professor McGonagall stood near the desk, sorting through a pile of papers. The desk and shelves had been cleared of all of Dumbledore's belongings, and the room was strewn with boxes, stacked haphazardly on top of one another or lying open, half packed. A few of the old Headmasters' portraits had been moved around to clear a prominent spot on the wall; this was presumably for Professor Dumbledore's portrait but, at present, the wall gaped bare.

As Harry stared dismally around at the disorder, Professor McGonagall approached him and said, "Oh good, Mr. Potter. You just caught me before a staff meeting. I know I should have gotten this to you earlier, but I've been busy with the management of the school. Professor Dumbledore left you his phoenix, Fawkes. Phoenixes usually fly away after their masters' deaths, but Albus must have figured Fawkes would stay around for you."

Harry looked surprised as Fawkes swooped from a high perch and landed softly on his shoulder. "I... wow, thanks! I never thought..."

He reached up to lift the resplendent bird off his shoulder and held the mighty creature in front of him. "Hello, Fawkes. I'm a sorry substitute for your former master, but I'd be happy for your company!"

Professor McGonagall watched affectionately as Harry caressed the crimson feathers of the beautiful phoenix. She then started and turned quickly, muttering, "Oh, I've almost forgotten! I have a brochure with information about caring for a phoenix. Albus had scrawled all sorts of notes in the margins about Fawkes, too..."

She hurried into the adjoining room behind the desk, where Harry could see the disarray of further packing. He turned his head back towards Fawkes when suddenly a magnificent relic in the rear of the office caught his eyes. Wedged between two stacks of boxes stood the tall, ornately carved Mirror of Erised.

With a quick glance at the other room, Harry swiftly crossed the office and pulled the mirror out a couple of inches so that he could stand before it. Still holding the phoenix, he stepped hesitantly in front of the reflective surface.

Once again, its depths filled with an abundance of figures that showed Harry the thing he loved and desired most: his family. Alongside his parents were crowded the Weasleys, Hermione, Luna, Remus, Sinéal and their sons, Tonks, and Hagrid. Harry's gaze slid along to the side of the crowd, and he caught his breath in wonder.

Tall, with a flowing silver beard above which was a warm smile, stood Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. He gave Harry a merry wink as the figure beside him stepped out of his shadow to be better seen. With long, wavy dark hair and a relaxed slouch stood the one person Harry never thought he would lay his eyes on again. He gave Harry a jovial smile and a wave. Harry reached to touch that spot in the mirror, and whispered, "Sirius!"

Only a few months ago, Harry had looked into the mirror and noticed his Godfather's obvious absence amongst his other close friends. Instead, he had found Sirius lurking in the tormented purgatory beyond the veil, as seen through his two-way mirror. But that mirror was gone now, having swallowed the evil and oppressive Lord Voldemort. And here was Sirius, freed from that purgatory and conspicuous alongside Harry's other family, both past and present.

Professor McGonagall emerged from the other room, still talking, when she caught sight of the incredulous look on Harry's face as he stared, transfixed, into the large mirror. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Potter?" she asked in alarm.

"No," Harry replied as he and Fawkes stepped away from the Mirror of Erised. He gave her a happy smile, and said, "Everything is just fine!"