Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Thirty-two

The Journey Home

Harry’s head hit the table with a thump. He was sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione, revising for his Defense NEWT, which was scheduled to happen the next day, and the words wouldn’t stop blurring on the page. He found it extremely ironic that after defeating the worst dark lord in decades, he still had to sit for an exam on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Someone up in the heavens must really enjoy making sport of him.

Madam Pomfrey had reluctantly allowed his release from the hospital wing several days prior so that he could participate in the exams. She’d given him an extra strong dose of the pain-relieving potion, with instructions not to take it until his revising was complete and he was ready to turn in each evening. That particular potion always hit him really hard, and he could feel the effects messing with his head since he had, of course, ignored her instructions and already taken it.

He’d sat through both his Transfiguration and Charms exams already, with Defense Against the Dark Arts scheduled for the next day, followed by Potions, and, finally, Care of Magical Creatures on Friday. Even though Harry had dropped Hagrid’s class in sixth year, Hagrid had encouraged him to sit for the NEWT, anyway. He’d insisted that Harry had already done advanced work on the subject, and since the phoenix was a NEWT level creature – and he had one of his own – he was certainly qualified to sit for the exam. Harry had agreed mainly to please Hagrid, but now he was wondering what he’d been thinking.

His first two exams had been bizarre, to say the least. He’d followed Hermione’s frantic revision schedule and tried to prepare himself as much as possible for what he thought might be covered on the exams, but when he entered the room for his turn, all the instructors wanted to talk about was how he had defeated Voldemort.

Harry had almost got used to it. After his release from hospital, he’d been bombarded with questions from his classmates – even classmates he’d never spoken to before had suddenly started conversations, as if they were long-lost friends. He found it all rather unnerving. It reminded him of the conversation he’d had with Professor Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt the night of the Awards Gala, and his heart ached painfully when he thought that neither of them were here to see that they were right about his ever-increasing celebrity status.

So, when the instructors started asking the same questions as his classmates, he wasn’t all that surprised. The only difference between the two exams was that the Charms examiner wanted to know exactly which Charms had been used, and the Transfiguration examiner wanted to know about any Transfiguration spells.

When he’d spoken with Minister Bones about what had happened in the Chamber, she’d asked that he keep the exact spell – The Curse of the Damned – secret from the general populace. She didn’t mind that he said he’d used old magic, but she thought it best if the specifics remained confidential. That was fine with Harry, since he really didn’t want to talk about it, anyway. He’d fulfilled his role, he’d done what he had to do, and now he wished everyone would just let him be.

Old magic had suddenly become the rage in the press, and the papers were reporting that books on anything to do with the subject were selling as fast as they could be stocked. There was even a rumor that it would be taught in a class at Hogwarts next term, a rumor that Professor McGonagall staunchly denied. The Institute was organizing an entire team to do some research into the old spells, and Hermione had been offered a position. She carried the offer letter around with her everywhere, but she refused to answer it until she’d successfully completed her NEWTs.

Harry had also received a letter from Minister Bones herself, informing him that he was to be presented an Order of Merlin, First Class, at an Awards Ceremony during the summer. Harry wasn’t thrilled with the idea of even more publicity, but hoped that after a huge party to celebrate the event all the interest in him and his role would gradually fade away. He hadn’t found the doubtful expressions on his friends’ faces when he’d made that statement very encouraging.

He suspected the examiner tomorrow would want much the same information about the final battle as the previous two, but he was slightly apprehensive about any surprises Snape might have planned. He hadn’t seen much of his Defense professor since he’d awoken from the battle. Not that he’d expected Snape to visit him in the hospital wing, but Hermione had told him that it was Snape who found them and kept him alive in the Chamber.

Despite Madam Pomfrey’s warnings, Harry had taken his painkiller before he was done revising that evening. His side was agonizingly sore, and he needed some relief in order to concentrate. After lying still in hospital for so long, his body was no longer used to all this activity, and he was fighting with his exhaustion while trying to appear as if he were handling everything fine. He didn’t want Madam Pomfrey to stuff him back in that bed. So much for my ‘no hospital wing’ record this year.

Ron and Hermione both looked up when Harry’s head hit the table.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked, frowning.

Harry picked his head up, blinking. “What?”

“I asked if you were all right,” Hermione said, getting annoyed. She’d started the week in a state, and it was only growing worse after each exam. She had no patience for either Harry’s or Ron’s distractions during her revision time.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry asked, sniggering. He suddenly found the question very funny.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation as Ron chuckled. “Banging your head on the table might maker her think something was wrong, mate,” he said.

“Huh?” Harry asked, bewildered.

Ginny moved from her position on the couch over to their table. She was in the middle of her sixth-year exams and had been revising with some her classmates. “Harry, you didn’t take that potion yet, did you? You know how silly it makes you.”

Harry looked at her intently, cocking his head to the side. He couldn’t remember when Ginny had joined them. “You’re hair looks pretty,” he said, enjoying how the red was streaked with bits of gold in the candlelight.

“Oh, brother,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

“Harry! How could you? We have a lot of revising still to do,” Hermione said, scandalized. “Didn’t Madam Pomfrey tell you not to take that potion until after you were finished with your revision? Didn’t she say that she’d made that dose extra strong? What were you thinking?”

Harry blinked at her, having trouble following her rapid questions. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “It hurt,” he said, sniggering again. Absolutely nothing hurt now; in fact, he felt really good.

Hermione flinched, derailed from her lecture. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Why are you sorry? D’you know I can do this?” he asked, throwing his quill in the air and catching it again before it hit the table.

“Yeah, we’ve seen you do something like that before,” Ron said, chuckling. “Give him a break, Hermione. It’s not like there’s a bloody chance in hell he won’t pass his Defense exam, anyway. Go to bed, Harry.”

“Language, Ron,” Hermione said, scowling her disapproval with both of them.

“I’m hungry. D’you think Dobby has any biscuits that he’d bring here?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling that if he didn’t get some chocolate nothing would ever be right again.

Ginny began gathering Harry’s books and parchments from the table. “Come upstairs, Harry. We’ll get Dobby to bring you some up there.”

“Some what?” Harry asked, blinking. His head was buzzing annoyingly, and he was finding it extremely difficult to follow their conversation.

Ginny picked up the rest of his things and began steering him up the stairs, shaking her head all the while. She led him to the seventh-year dormitory and ushered him inside. She marched over to his trunk, stored his books and pulled out some pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. “Here, go put those on, Harry,” she said.

Harry took the pajamas but stared at her blankly. “Ginny, d’you know I have to take my Defense NEWT tomorrow?” he asked, shaking his head. He couldn’t understand why he was finding it so hard to focus. “I can’t go the exam in my pajamas.”

“Harry, go get changed and lie down. I’ll see what Dobby can send up for a snack, okay?” Ginny said, trying to push him towards the bathroom.

“Snape doesn’t like me,” Harry said, chuckling and refusing to budge from the spot he was standing. Ginny’s size was no match for his, and she finally gave up trying to move him. “He won’t think it’s funny when I take my exam in my pajamas. I don’t like him, either.”

“You don’t say,” Ginny said, again tugging on his arm.

“Nope,” Harry said, sniggering. “He has a crooked nose. D’you think it’s been broken? I bet a lot of people want to break Snape’s nose. He doesn’t like me; I wonder if he wants to break my nose?”

“Harr-eee,” Ginny moaned. She was panting from the exertion of trying to move him, but her lips twitched. “If you think he didn’t like you before, then you’ll think he absolutely detests you now.”

Harry laughed. “You think these pajamas are that bad?” he asked, plucking at the black material.

“Not the pajamas, Harry, you dolt. I had Potions first thing this morning right after the Prophet was delivered with the news about your Order of Merlin,” Ginny said, snickering. “You should have seen the look on Snape’s face. Merlin, he was in a foul temper.”

“I’m getting an Order of Merlin?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“Good grief, what did Madam Pomfrey put in that stuff?” Ginny asked in exasperation. She had to help Harry get into his pajamas, and he was so out of it he didn’t even notice her struggles. When she finally tugged his T-shirt over his head, she called, “Dobby?”

The house-elf appeared with a popping sound. “Yes, Miss Harry’s Wheezy. Dobby is here. What can Dobby do for the great and wonderful Harry Potter, who saved the world from all the bad once again? Dobby knew Harry Potter would do it, yes he did. What can Dobby do for Harry Potter and his Miss Wheezy?”

Harry was fascinated by the way Dobby’s ears moved up and down as he spoke. He reached over and pulled on one; it was much softer than he expected it to be.

Dobby turned his head so Harry could tug on his other ear.

Ginny slapped Harry’s hand away. “Don’t mind Harry, Dobby. He’s had one of Madam Pomfrey’s excellent potions. He’s looking for some biscuits and maybe some hot chocolate. Do you think you could get us some?” she asked.

“Biscuits and chocolate,” Harry exclaimed with childlike enthusiasm. He forgot all about Dobby’s ears. “Ginny, that’s a great idea.”

“Dobby can do that,” Dobby exclaimed with delight.

After Dobby had returned with their snack, Harry and Ginny curled up on the window seat to stare at the stars. “We can’t see Sirius anymore,” Ginny commented on the summer sky. The Dog Star was only visible in the winter.

“Nope,” Harry replied, munching on yet another chocolate biscuit and trying to catch falling crumbs with his mouth. “I saw him, you know.”

“Saw who?” Ginny asked.

“Sirius…and my mum and dad,” Harry replied. He hadn’t told anyone about what had happened to him while he was unconscious. He was afraid that he’d be told it was just a dream, and he knew better.

“Yes, we all saw them in the Chamber,” Ginny said, taking his hand. “Charlie, too. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe that really happened. Mum cried when I told her about it.”

Harry shook his head, and it made him dizzy. “No, this was after. When you lot were trying to dig out from the cave-in, I was with Sirius,” Harry whispered. It all seemed so far away and dreamlike now.

Ginny looked at him, startled. She appeared to be struggling with her thoughts, and he wondered what she was thinking.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” she said, finally.

“Me, too. They said I had a choice to make – whether to stay where I was or to go back to you. They wanted me to go back. They all really like you, Ginny,” Harry said, nuzzling the side of her neck.

“What else did they say?” Ginny asked with a hitch in her voice. Her eyes had filled with tears, and she blinked them back.

“Sirius told me to learn how to handle my FireWhiskey better. I think I need some practice,” he said, pulling her closer.

Ginny giggled and rolled her eyes. “Right. You’re getting so much better at handling this potion,” Ginny said, squealing as he started to tickle her.

They sat in the window until the potion’s effects finally demanded that Harry get some sleep. It was the best night of revising Harry had ever spent.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall the next morning before their Defense Against the Dark Arts examination. Hermione was still trying to get them to talk about potential questions, but they’d long since tuned her out. Once the exams were over, they would have five days off simply to enjoy themselves before the Hogwarts Express would return them to London.

Harry planned on returning to Grimmauld Place with Ron and Ginny, while Hermione was going home to see her parents. The four students were planning on getting together in a few weeks to spend some time at the Bungalow. Abe and Cordelia had invited them to return, and they were all keen to spend some more time at the beach. Harry planned on looking for a place of his own to buy while he was there.

The potion he’d taken the previous evening had ensured that he’d had a good night’s sleep, but he always awoke after taking it with a ravenous hunger. He filled his plate with scrambled eggs and bacon just as the owl post arrived. Harry’s mail was still being screened by the house-elves, but a large barn owl settled imperiously in front of Ron and held out its leg.

Ron removed a piece of parchment with an official Ministry seal. When he unrolled it, Harry saw that it was from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He lowered his head and began to eat quickly. Ron gasped as he read the letter.

“Ron, what is it?” Hermione asked, looking up from her own stack of mail. Hermione had been receiving job offers from all over Britain on a daily basis.

“Ron, what’s wrong?” Ginny asked, reaching over and plucking the letter right out of the hands of her stunned brother. She scanned it quickly before looking up with a wide smile and exclaiming. “Brilliant!”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a job offer,” Ron whispered, his eyes opened wide in numb disbelief.

“A job offer from whom? Why do you look so amazed? I thought you were applying to the Ministry for the Auror program,” Hermione asked, frowning.

“It’s from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. They’ve offered me a position as a Quidditch Scout.” Ron said, still not moving. “The only way to get a job like this is to be recommended by someone within the Department, but who would have recommended me? Harry, could you reach over and pinch me, please.”

Harry complied, trying to cover his grin.

“Ow! That hurt,” Ron said, rubbing the tender spot on the underside of his arm.

“You told me to pinch you,” Harry replied.

“I didn’t really mean it,” Ron snapped.

“Congratulations, mate. I can’t think of anyone who would be better at something like this,” Harry said.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled, still sounding dazed.

“Are you going to take the offer?” Hermione asked.

“Hell, yes,” Ron replied, looking at her as if she were daft.

“What about becoming an Auror?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

“The bad guys will always be there, but this is Quidditch,” Ron said, as if that answered everything.

Hermione pursed her lips and returned to her breakfast without comment. Something must have finally clicked in Ron’s head, because he reached across the table and took Hermione’s hands. “What do you think about the offer, Hermione?” he asked.

Hermione looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “If it’s what you want, Ron, I think you should take it. It would certainly be much less dangerous.”

“I don’t know about that. Quidditch is a rough sport, but I’m glad you’re okay with it. It’ll mean some travelling for me, but I’ll be able to keep an eye on Harry.”

“Hey! My days of needing a minder are over,” Harry said indignantly.

“Yeah. It’s not like you’ve ever had a Quidditch injury before,” Ron said, smirking.

Harry flung a forkful of scrambled eggs at him.

When they finished eating, Ginny stood up and said she had her Charms and Ancient Runes exams. She wished them luck on their Defense NEWT and headed towards her class.

Harry shuffled his feet as he followed along behind Ron and Hermione, trying hard not to look up so he wouldn’t have to catch anyone’s eye. He was tired of the questions. He supposed he still had to take Professor McGonagall’s advice and talk to the press, but he just wasn’t ready for that yet, either. I did what I had to do; why do I have to talk about it?

When they arrived at the DADA classroom, Professor Snape was standing outside the door with his trademark scowl in place. His bottomless black eyes flicked over the trio briefly.

“Well, well, well,” he said, staring coolly at Harry and ignoring Ron and Hermione completely. “It’s alive.”

Harry knew that was a line from a popular Muggle film that Dudley used to watch, but he couldn’t imagine Snape would know that, let alone make a joke…to him…would he?

“Sir?” he asked, uncertainly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked hotly. He and Hermione had both moved up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry. After facing Voldemort, Snape really didn’t appear all that intimidating anymore.

“I see you’ve managed to make it through your hordes of misguided fools and admirers in order to sit for your exam. Although, even if you had been late, I’m certain your simpering examiners would have overlooked it. Fame does have its privileges, after all, does it not?” Snape asked, sneering.

This was the Snape he knew – criticizing him for his tardiness despite the fact he wasn’t even late. This Snape he could handle.

“It certainly does; you wouldn’t believe some of the perks,” Harry replied with a cheerful grin. Snape would never see him as anything but an arrogant berk; he might as well live up to his unearned reputation. Harry was struck by the thought that the only person more unhappy with the fame and glory he was being showered with was Snape. Who would have supposed they would have ever found something in common?

Snape’s eyes widened as Harry passed him and moved into the classroom. A triumphant gleam that appeared to shout ‘I knew it!’ shone in his dark eyes.

“That was bloody brilliant,” Ron said with a delighted grin. “You should have seen the look on his face, mate. He was nearly green with envy. He wants that Order of Merlin so bad he can taste it.”

“Although you really shouldn’t bait him, Harry, I must admit that was very satisfying,” Hermione said, giggling.

“All seems right in the world if I can still get under Snape’s skin,” Harry replied, grinning. “It’s good to know some things will never change.”

“I pity the first-years who arrive next term. Snape is going to need a new target; Merlin help any poor sod who arrives wearing glasses,” Ron said, grinning gleefully.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the examiner, a stout wizard with graying hair at his temples. “My name is Cecil Everley, and I shall be one of the examiners for your Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWT. Please enter the adjoining room as your name is called. After you…I say, is that Harry Potter? Ah, Mr. Potter, I have some questions I’d like to ask you. Yes, yes. Follow me, please,” he said, enthusiastically leading Harry towards another door.

Harry was about to roll his eyes at Ron and Hermione when he noticed Snape’s furious expression. The man looked as if he could boil eggs with the intensity of his glare. Plastering the cockiest grin he could manage on his face, Harry winked at his Defense teacher and followed the examiner into the room.

On the night of the Leaving Feast, Harry clicked his trunk shut and stood. His gaze swept around the remarkably uncluttered dorm room. The only times he’d ever seen this room so neat were on the first and last days of term each year. He smiled fondly, his chest feeling slightly constricted. He was having trouble dealing with the fact that this was it for him. Tomorrow, the train would take him away from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last time.

He knew that he’d miss it terribly. If he forced his mind, he could almost imagine that he was simply leaving for summer break, and he would soon begin his countdown for September the first. The ache in his side or the well-intentioned queries about his future plans always dispelled that illusion quickly.

This was it.

Harry would never return to this place that he’d always considered his real home.

His life began here, really – or resumed here, maybe. It had started with his parents in Godric’s Hollow, then took a ten-year hiatus before starting again when he came to Hogwarts.

He’d come alive here.

He remembered when Hagrid had arrived to collect him from that creaky, rundown shack on the sea. He’d told Harry that after seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry he wouldn’t recognize himself.

Harry had never imagined how true those words would be. He was certainly nothing like the wide-eyed, innocent, naïve little boy he’d been then. He supposed part of that was the natural result of aging from eleven to seventeen, but no one could ever claim that his life had been anything close to normal.

He sighed and climbed down the stairs to join his friends. As they walked downstairs to join the Leaving Feast, each was lost in their own melancholy thoughts. Ginny gave Harry’s hand a squeeze, and he smiled weakly.

“No long faces. This is our last Hogwarts Feast together; let’s enjoy it,” she said, smiling brightly.

Harry squeezed her hand. “You’re right, Gin. Let’s end this on a high note.”

Ron and Hermione beamed; they all squared their shoulders and entered the Great Hall. It was decorated in Gryffindor colors. They took their seats at the Gryffindor table and greeted some of their fellow classmates.

The Slytherin table was the most subdued, by far. Harry could easily read the uncertainly on a lot of the faces. Many of them now had parents who were facing terms in Azkaban. The list of pending trials was staggering. Harry met Blaise Zabini’s eyes across the room, and the Slytherin nodded. Harry wondered how Blaise’s family was faring in the investigations.

Harry had given Minister Bones Blaise’s name and told her that the Slytherin had warned him to expect trouble. Minister Bones had put a note of it in her records. Harry wasn’t certain what else he could do. He thought that maybe now that Voldemort was gone, he and Blaise might even be able to become friendly.

In fact, he was going to make certain of it.

He stood up and began walking towards the Slytherin, Blaise must have recognized his intent, for he stood and moved to meet Harry halfway.

“Where are you going?” Ron demanded, but Hermione held him in place.

“Zab…Blaise,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Blaise said, almost as if he were testing the name on his lips.

“How are you doing?” Harry asked.

“I’m doing okay. I’m glad to see you’ve finally got out of the hospital wing,” Blaise said.

“Yeah. Madam Pomfrey is kind of fond of me; she didn’t want to let me go,” Harry said, grinning.

Blaise extended his hand towards Harry. “I’m glad it was you who survived, Pot…Harry.”

Harry shook the offered hand. “Me, too. What happens to you now? What are you going to do?”

Blaise shrugged. “My immediate family has stayed out of the investigation so far, although I have an uncle who’s in it fairly deep. My father works for Nimbus, and I’m going to go to work for him.”

“Nimbus? As in the racing broom?” Harry asked, his interest level soaring.

“Is there any other Nimbus?” Blaise asked, quirking his eyebrow. “I heard a rumor that you’re going to be playing for England. Any truth to that?”

Harry grinned. “If you’re going to be working for Nimbus, let’s just say we might be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”

Blaise studied Harry carefully before returning the grin. “Fair enough. See you around, Harry.”

“See you,” Harry said before returning to his seat.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked, suspiciously.

“Honestly, Ron. The war is over, and we’re finished with school. This house rivalry has to stop. Blaise is okay,” Hermione said, glaring.

Ron looked at the determined faces of his girlfriend, sister, and best mate. “Well…we’ll see,” he grumbled, but he let the subject drop.

As he ate his dinner, Harry’s gaze swept the head table. Professor McGonagall had donned splendid pale blue robes for the occasion, and the sight made Harry’s heart twinge over Professor Dumbledore’s absence. Harry had felt the loss painfully while in the hospital wing. He’d kept expecting Professor Dumbledore to sweep in and question him about what had happened. The more time that passed without his arrival made Harry slowly come to accept that everything had irrevocably changed.

Harry was finally free, but at such a bitter cost.

He could see Cordelia chatting happily with Hagrid. She’d made a nice addition to the staff, and Potions class was certainly easier to take. Harry supposed that in the next few years, Defense would be everyone’s least favorite class. He hoped that this time of peace would stretch out for years to come. Maybe even Snape would mellow with age.

Harry thought that of everything at Hogwarts he would miss, he’d miss Hagrid most of all. The big man had promised Harry they would get together for lunch over the summer. They hadn’t gone out for a hamburger since Harry’s first year, and Harry was looking forward to it.

At the Gryffindor table, Seamus and Lavender were bickering loudly. They’d both accepted positions with Ireland’s Ministry of Magic, and their wedding was to be held the following spring.

“You’ll all come to Ireland for the wedding, won’t you?” Lavender asked. “Mum and I have so many plans on how we want everything to be. I can’t decide on colors for my attendants; I’m torn between the peach and the rose.”

“Oh, the rose would be so lovely in a garden wedding,” Parvati said seriously. “I don’t think the peach would look as good on me.”

“I told you both that I wanted a small wedding. We don’t need eight attendants each, Lavender,” Seamus said hotly.

Harry smirked and turned away. He watched as Dean roughly sketched the teachers sitting at the head table. Dean must have sensed his gaze, for he looked up and caught Harry’s eye.

Dean shrugged and said, “To remember it by, you know?”

Harry nodded. He knew exactly what Dean meant. He wished he could freeze this moment in time, too.

He turned his head towards the doors when a great rumbling filled the hall. Harry’s breath caught when Hannah Abbott strolled in with none other than Neville Longbottom. A smile lit up Hannah’s face, and Neville looked hesitant, but healthy.

The sound of scraping benches filled the Great Hall as students from all four houses rose to their feet and started to applaud. Neville’s cheeks turned red as he gave a slight wave to acknowledge everyone. He kissed Hannah on the cheek and walked over to where Harry was seated.

“Hi, you lot,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Neville,” Hermione gasped. “You’re all right. How did this happen? When did you regain consciousness? Are there any side effects? Because you look perfectly healthy!”

“Neville, this is fantastic,” Ginny said, beaming.

Neville smiled and sat down. “I woke up two days ago, but I asked the Healers to keep it quiet until I could come back here myself. I missed all my exams, but Professor McGonagall said I could make them up,” Neville replied.

“That’s great, Neville,” Harry replied. Seeing Neville sitting with the rest of his Gryffindor classmates made Harry feel as if everything was truly going to be okay, after all.

“How did this happen?” Hermione demanded again, nearly leaning across the table in her excitement.

“It was Hannah’s idea, actually,” Neville replied.

Everyone stared at him with open curiosity.

“She brought my Mimbulus mimbletonia into St. Mungo’s. She knew how fond I am of it, and she thought it would make the room more cheerful. The Healers don’t know exactly how it happened, but I began to improve the moment she put it on the table beside my bed. It is supposed to have healing properties. They’ve offered me a position on staff in their research department to study the effects. We’re hopeful that we might be able to achieve the same results on others who’ve suffered the effects of the Cruciatus,” Neville said, his eyes locking with Harry’s.

“Your parents,” Harry muttered.

“Bloody brilliant,” said Ron.

“Yeah,” Neville responded with pink cheeks. “She is.”

Ginny’s and Hermione’s eyes filled with tears as they each pulled Neville into a fierce embrace.

“Welcome back, mate,” Ron said, slapping him on the shoulder.

“It’s good to be back,” Neville replied.

The train ride home was the most uneventful trip he could ever remember having taken on the Hogwarts Express. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry remained in the Prefect car after the meeting adjourned, and Neville and Hannah joined them there. They played games of Chess and Exploding Snap to pass the time.

It was while they all sat there enjoying themselves that Harry was struck by the fact that Luna wasn’t with them. For the past three years, she had been the sixth occupant of their car during the journey to and from Hogwarts. Harry still hadn’t sorted out all his feelings about Luna.

She’d been the one to reveal his comings and goings to the Death Eaters all year, and the information she’d supplied had resulted in several deaths, including several injuries to his friends. Still, he knew Luna was also a victim. She’d been tricked and used. They’d pinpointed her weakness and exploited it for their own gain. Voldemort had been a master at exploiting a weakness.

Harry remembered his first year and how Voldemort had shown him his parents in the Mirror of Erised. He’d tried to trick him into believing he could be reunited with them. Harry hadn’t fallen for it, but he’d felt the temptation. He wondered if his parents had suddenly materialized before him, as Luna’s mother had appeared to do for her, if he would have had the courage still to resist. Harry thought it might take him a long time to come to terms with Luna’s death fully.

When Neville and Hannah had entered the car, Hannah had chosen a seat in the far corner, as far from Hermione as she could get. Hermione remained pleasant, but very cool and removed from the other girl. Hannah was nice and easy to talk to, and Harry suspected that she and Hermione would have got on swimmingly if it weren’t for the fact that Hannah had dated Ron.

Then again, Harry wouldn’t like to sit in a car with Michael Corner, either.

Ron sat back, smirking, and Harry could tell he was chuffed that Hermione was jealous. Thankfully, Ginny smoothed over the initial awkwardness.

“What are your plans now that you’ve finished your education, Hannah?” Ginny asked.

“Actually, I’m planning on a bit more schooling. I’ve enrolled in a training class at St. Mungo’s that’s beginning in September,” Hannah replied.

“Oh? Are you going to become a Healer?” Ginny asked, and Harry could see Hermione perk up in her chair over the idea of further education.

“Not a Healer, but a Potion-maker. Herbology and Potions were my best subjects, and I’m interning over the summer at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley,” she said.

“Really?” Hermione asked. “That’s fascinating, and Diagon Alley is so centrally located. You’ll be near everything.”

Hannah nodded. “I thought so, too. Susan Bones and I are going to look for a flat nearby. Susan took a job with the Ministry.”

“I can’t believe I’ll be returning to Hogwarts all alone while the rest of you are off to start your careers,” Ginny said, pouting.

“Don’t worry, Ginny,” Hermione said, patting her on the arm. “Ron, Harry and I are going to get a flat in Hogsmeade together, and you can visit us every Hogsmeade weekend.”

“And I’ll give you the map and Invisibility Cloak so you can sneak out on non-Hogsmeade weekends,” Harry said with an impish grin.

“Harry, I really don’t think you ought to encourage her to break the school rules,” Hermione said.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. The danger is over, and we all deserve the chance to live a little,” Harry said.

“She can come and visit, but she’s staying in Hermione’s room, “ Ron said, as if just realizing what Harry had said.

“You mind where you sleep, and I’ll mind where I sleep, Ron Weasley. Don’t hack me off now, or I might let it slip to Mum how you and Hermione will be in the flat all alone while Harry’s off at training camp,” Ginny said in a very low voice.

Ron paled and gulped visibly. “Stay out of it, Ginny.”

“Then you do the same, Ron,” Ginny replied, not backing down a step.

Harry leaned back and smirked, knowing Ginny could handle her brother just fine.

Things were looking up; for the first time in his life, Harry wasn’t dreading the start of summer. He’d be with Ginny and his friends and had the freedom to do whatever he pleased. It was a good feeling.

When they arrived at platform nine and three quarters, however, and Harry saw the scene awaiting him, his stomach felt as if it had been filled with lead. The platform was teeming with reporters and much more crowded with visitors than he’d ever remembered. He should have listened to Professor McGonagall and given some interviews before he left school.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, staring out the window.

“Can’t we just Apparate from here?” Harry groaned.

“You can’t Apparate on or off the Hogwarts Express, Harry. You’ll just have to get through the barrier somehow, and then you can make your getaway,” Hermione said, frowning her concern at the mad rush of reporters.

“Oh, is that all?” Harry asked dryly.

“Come on, mate, you might as well get used to it,” Ron said, completely unsympathetic.

“I don’t have to get used to anything. If I can just avoid them long enough, something or someone else will stir their interest,” Harry said crossly.

“Yeah, all that Boy-Who-Lived stuff certainly blew over quick, didn’t it?” Ron asked, laughing.

“Not to mention the fact that you’re going to be playing Quidditch for England starting in a couple of months. No reason there for them to want to interview you,” Hermione said, linking her hand with Ron and staring at Harry in amusement.

“Shut it,” Harry grumbled, scowling at both of them. He turned towards Ginny. “You don’t have to deal with this if you don’t want to, Ginny. I’ll get off the train first, and you can just slip away while I’m dodging them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry. I don’t want to avoid them, I want to be one of them,” Ginny replied.

“You’re certainly an improvement over Rita Skeeter,” Harry said, grinning, “and easier on the eyes, too.”

Ginny laughed. “Just take a deep breath, hold your head high, and be your charming self without really saying anything,” Ginny said.

“Harry’s had loads of practice doing that,” Hermione replied, laughing. “He usually starts to mumble and no one can make out anything he said, anyway.”

“Ho, ho. What is this – pick on Harry day? Ungrateful louts,” Harry said with a grin.

“Oh, if only Snape had heard that. There’s that arrogant, conceited swine he was always looking to find,” Neville said, clapping Harry on the back.

Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny’s shoulders. “Are you ready to do this, then?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” she replied.

Harry transfigured one of the Exploding Snap cards into a Muggle baseball cap and pulled it low over his scar. “Might give us a few extra minutes,” he replied, grinning sheepishly.

It didn’t work. The press recognized him nearly instantly and pandemonium ensued.

“There he is,” screamed a witch.

“Mr. Potter, just a few questions.”

“Mr. Potter, look over here.”

“Come on, Harry, just one picture, and I can feed my kids for a week.”

“Mr. Potter, is there any truth to the rumors that you’ve joined the Auror Academy?”

“How do you feel about playing professional Quidditch?”

“Harry, look this way.”

“Mr. Potter, what are your plans now that you’ve finished your education.”

“Is it true that you and the Weasley girl plan to wed this summer?”

“Are you planning on starting a family?”

“Mr. Potter…”

“Here…”

Harry had sprinted as far as he could, pulling Ginny and the cages carrying Hedwig and Delilah along with him. He’d shrunk their trunks and held them in his pocket and told Fawkes to meet him at Grimmauld Place. When the crush of people around him forced him to stop, he turned to face the music.

Ron and Hermione had disappeared somewhere in the crowd, and he made a mental note to hex them for abandoning him. He was certain they were chuckling somewhere within hearing distance. He held up his hand and squinted against the glare from all the flashbulbs. “Hey,” he said, trying to get their attention.

“Oh, that was eloquent, Harry,” Ginny grumbled.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he asked in exasperation. The reporters continued to shout questions on top of each other so that Harry couldn’t distinguish a single one to answer it, even if he’d wanted to do so.

Ginny stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled, a shrill, high-pitch sound that made Harry’s ears ring. He blinked in astonishment.

“I love you,” he said, and all the reporters easily heard him, since Ginny’s whistle had finally succeeded in getting their attention. They scribbled furiously, and the questions began again.

Harry threw his head back and laughed, really laughed for the first time since Voldemort’s death.

Harry cast a Sonorous Charm to raise his voice and said, “Look, I know you all have a lot of questions, but I have no comment to make at this time. I just want to get settled now that school is done, then I’ll figure out the rest and let you know.”

“Just a few questions, Harry,” yelled one reporter from the back of the pack. “Tell us how you feel now that you’ve finally managed to kill the Dark Lord.”

Harry’s cool gaze locked with the reporter, pinning him with his glare. “I gave a full account of what happened to Minister Bones, and I’ve read the articles that have been written so I know you’re already aware of what happened. I’m very happy to finally have the chance to live without the threat of Voldemort hanging over me, and I’d appreciate it if you’d let me do that.”

The questions began again as if they hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Harry sighed, realizing they were only going to hear what they wanted, no matter what he said. He supposed he brought it on himself with his reticence of speaking with the press, but he really didn’t enjoy this. He’d had enough of people telling him what to do and trying to do what was expected of him. If he didn’t want to talk about his private life to a bunch of vultures, then, hell, he wasn’t going to do it.

Harry waved his hand and created a shield around he and Ginny. The noise from the platform was silenced, and any reporter within a two-meter radius was forced back from his shield.

“What did you do?” Ginny asked, giggling.

“I didn’t want to talk to them, anyway,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they walked towards the barrier, he saw Remus and Tonks making their way towards them. Tonks was flashing an Auror identification and clearing the reporters off the platform. When they finally cleared the crowd, they pulled Harry and Ginny into a corner before passing through the barrier. They’d had no trouble breaching Harry’s shield.

“I see your habit of making an entrance continues,” Remus said, smiling.

“Impressive,” Tonks said, nodding her head in the direction of the shield.

Ginny squealed and grabbed Tonks’s hand, examining the shining diamond she wore on her finger. “Tonks, is this…”

Tonks beamed. “Yep. The old wolf wants to make me legal.”

Harry turned to Remus. “Congratulations,” he said.

“I wanted to tell you in person, but this wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” Remus said ruefully.

“So, when is the big day?” Harry asked, waving off the apology.

“It’s a bit up in the air at the moment. There are still laws against our getting married under wizarding law, so we’re looking into Muggle alternatives. It depends on how quickly those laws might change,” Remus replied.

“Change?” Harry asked, still fuming that any such laws existed in the first place.

“Well, you’re looking at the new Head of Magical Creature Relations within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Remus said, a hint of color staining his cheeks.

“What?” Harry and Ginny asked in astonishment.

“It seems Minister Bones feels the best way to improve relations between wizards and magical creatures is to have someone who lives in both worlds in charge. I think Minerva put in a good word, as well,” Remus said.

“Not to mention he’s the best man for the job,” Tonks said, wrapping her arm around Remus’s waist. Her hair was a violent shade of orange that clashed horribly with her red shirt.

“It seems things are improving already,” Harry said, clapping Remus on the back. “What’s this about not being able to marry, though?”

“Nothing to worry about, Harry. Remus is working on changing that law already, and I don’t mind being a scarlet woman for a while,” Tonks said, with a grin.

“I mind you being a scarlet woman, so we’re thinking of getting married in a Muggle ceremony for now,” Remus answered, frowning at Tonk’s cocky grin.

“Let’s all get back to Grimmauld Place. Those reporters won’t be held off forever, Harry. Everyone wants a piece of you,” Tonks said with a grin that caused Harry to blush.

“Well this is one pie I’m not sharing,” Ginny said, scowling.

Laughing, they all Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

As Harry lay back in his bed at Grimmauld Place, he looked around the large, luxuriously decorated bedroom he now called his own and reflected on how much his life had changed. He’d certainly come a long way from the unwanted little boy who’d been hidden away in a cupboard.

Remus had insisted that he should finally have his own room, and he’d spared no expense in decorating this one in a way he thought Harry would enjoy. Even though Harry was planning on moving out and renting a house in Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione in September, Remus said this room would always be here for him.

Harry had told Remus that he and Tonks should keep Grimmauld Place for themselves; Sirius would have wanted it that way. Harry could picture the rest of the Black family rolling in their graves over the fact that a werewolf was now master of their ancestral home. The thought caused Harry to smile, just thinking it.

The Order was still using Grimmauld Place while it rounded up the last of the Death Eaters, and Harry still had to remain on guard, since so many of them wanted to take their revenge on Harry. Still, for the first time in his life, he had real freedom. He could take Ginny for a walk to the ice cream shop on the corner if he wanted, whenever he wanted, and buy whatever he pleased. The novelty of that still hadn’t worn off.

His health was improving, and he only had to take a few potions now, rather than the dozen he’d been on when he first regained consciousness. After a few weeks of rest and relaxation when he joined Abe and Cordelia at the beach, he’d be good as new. He was planning to see Ginny off on the Hogwarts Express on September first and then head to training camp the following day.

Things were finally starting to click into place in his life. The enormity of what he’d done still stunned him at times, but being surrounded by so many friendly and supportive faces always pulled him through. For the first time in his life, he was finally starting to live.

A gentle “pop” startled him, and he peered out from the hangings around his bed. In the dim candlelight, he recognized Ginny’s slender form standing just inside his doorway. She wore a flowing white nightgown, and her hair was spread around her face like a glimmering halo.

“Merlin, you’re beautiful,” he said, breathing heavily.

“Apparation has its advantages,” Ginny said, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “I just wanted to give you a kiss good night.”

“Well, come over here, then, woman, and give me that kiss,” he demanded.

Ginny’s hips swung seductively as she walked across the room. She gently perched on the side of his bed, leaned over and gave him a searing kiss that left him gasping for breath. Before he had the chance to collect his scattered senses, she gently bit his lower lip.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she scolded playfully.

Harry grinned. “Someone has to tell you what to do, Ginevra Weasley. Merlin knows what kind of trouble you’d get into otherwise.”

“Trouble like this,” Ginny whispered, leaning over to kiss him again.

Harry wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down beside him. As had happened so often in the past when he she was near, time lost all meaning as he focused solely on the soft curves of the fascinating creature in his arms. He waved his hand to snuff out the candle.

That night, for the first time in over a year, Harry Potter slept peacefully without a single qualm about keeping the light burning.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it and it tied up all the loose ends. A one-chapter epilogue will follow.

Thanks must go to my wonderful beta, Mistral, who kept me on track and made sure you had an update each week. She also calmed my nerves when I began to doubt things at the end. Thanks, Mistral.

The first scene in this chapter with Harry loopy on the pain potion was written specifically for my pre-beta, Dianne, who has been a wonderful source of support and encouragement while I was writing this piece. She wanted to see that scene. I hope it was worth it, Dianne.

Remus is still a werewolf, Neville’s parents are still unconscious, Ron still mistrusts all Slytherins, and Professor Snape is still a git…but I couldn’t have too much of a happy ending, lol. As far as I’m concerned, that prophecy means Harry is unable to live happily until Voldemort is destroyed, but once he is….things have to look up for Harry so the prophecy can be fulfilled completely.

I hope you all enjoyed it; I’ve had a ball guesstimating what I think might happen. I can’t wait to read HBP and see if I hit on anything. You readers and reviewers have been awesome, and I really, really appreciate all your comments and support. You’ve been wonderful.

If after HBP you’re looking for other reading, Wizard Tales is now posting Power of Emotion, and I’ve been getting a kick out of hearing comments on my “old” story again. Thanks to all you made appearances during the chats, I had a ball. In fact, I’m generally hanging around in the chat room on Sunday nights if anyone is still up for biding our time until HBP.