Sunlight through the window

Harry closed his eyes and prepared himself for the uncomfortable sensation that meant he had apparated. Opening them again, he saw the familiar winged boars and iron gates that guarded the entrance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – his first real home and the only place he had thought of coming to. The castle looked suddenly sinister, looming over him, shadowing its grounds from the moon – Harry took a shaky breath.

It was a year since he had last been here, but he had always known that he would come back, at least for a day, to say goodbye; and although he knew he would be safe inside the castle walls, it was with a heavy heart that he produced his wand and began to perform the intricate spellwork that he had been taught in order to get through the gates. After several minutes the gates swung open, and he dashed through before they could lock themselves again. Soon, he was standing before the great oak doors, wand still in hand, trying to work up the courage to push them open and step inside. Another world lived inside: a world hidden from the reality of darkness, from the real pain, from his, Harry’s, life, as it had been for the last year, and perhaps always would be from now on. Inside this building lived Harry’s past.

With a great effort, he pushed open the tall doors and entered into the pool of candlelight that made up the Entrance Hall. A deep echo rang around the vast room as the doors swung shut behind him and he was left alone on the other side. His heart pounding, his feet took him to the marble staircase and began to climb, his past slowly creeping in through his skin and filling him up with a feeling of nostalgia that formed in his throat as a lump. In a daze, his legs kept moving until he reached the seventh floor, where he stopped at the foot of a portrait.

“No …� whispered the Fat Lady in the painting, when she looked up from her dozing, “is it … is it really …?�

Harry, realising he had no idea what the password was, simply nodded.

“Do you have the password?� she asked, still staring at him.

Harry shook his head. A moment of silence.

“Conjure a Patronus.�

Harry looked up at the Fat Lady and saw her eyes fixed on him.

“Sorry?� he asked.

“Then I’ll know it’s really you.�

Harry sighed heavily. A Patronus, now? It should have been easy, but somehow the horrors of the last year still overpowered the victories; even the last one –

His hand went to his forehead and his fingers pressed the scar, which had felt somehow different for the past few hours, ever since … it was as though the power had been drained out of it. He gripped his wand more tightly, and, trying desperately to imagine the future, yelled out the incantation.

“Expecto Patronum!�

A spectacularly dazzling stag bounded out into the corridor and galloped away for a few seconds, before returning to Harry, who looked into its silver eyes for a moment, then dropped his wand to his side. The animal disappeared and Harry’s gaze moved back to the old lady’s face.

She smiled.

“Go on, then,� she said softly.

The portrait swung forwards and Harry climbed through the hole, remembering his school-years and feeling suddenly older. As he stepped out into the circular room, a tide of emotion crashed down on him, causing him to stifle a gasp in the silence of the night. The room was bathed in candlelight and a glowing warmth came from the embers in the grate, and, although all the Gryffindors were in bed, Harry felt the weight of loneliness, which he had been carrying around for too long now, lift from his mind and body and let the comfort of familiarity replace it.

Knowing he shouldn’t be there but dreading turning back, he took one last look around the room. As he was about to leave, he glanced over to the girls’ staircase, as if expecting to see someone there, but their absence told him to clamber back through the portrait hole.

Soon he found himself standing beside the two gargoyles outside the Headteacher’s Office. He jumped slightly when they leaped aside with no password, and mounted the staircase up to the office. There was no sound coming from behind the door when he reached it, but Harry lifted his hand and knocked twice, feeling certain that he could not be let down, not now.

Sure enough, a moment later the door opened, and there stood Professor McGonagall in a tartan nightgown and woolly red slippers. At first, Harry thought she might faint, but he knew she was stronger than that. They stared at each other for what must have been a whole minute, before she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

“You’re back,� she said quickly.

Harry nodded, finding his throat oddly restricted, and passed her as she stood aside. McGonagall shut the door behind him and crossed the room to her desk, sitting down in the high-backed chair and interlocking her fingers as if she was about to pray, then raising her hands and resting her chin on them.

“Sit down, Potter,� she murmured.

Harry sat down in the seat opposite her and looked her in the eye.

“Well?� she asked.

Harry held her gaze.

“It’s over,� he said. “It’s … over.�

It was only as he spoke these words that the meaning of them really dawned on him for the first time that day. It really was over. Voldemort was gone. The world was free. He, Harry, was free, for the first time in his life.

“You mean –?�

“Yes,� said Harry.

His old teacher looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, but then – a smile. A very faint, glimmer of hope. Then, as if she’d been planning it for a long time, she stood up, walked over to Harry and held out her hand. Unsure, he stood, too, and took it. She shook firmly, still smiling at Harry.

“I don’t believe it,� she whispered.

“Neither do I,� he replied.

“Have you told anyone?� she asked, dropping his hand and clasping her own two together.

Harry shook his head.

“I came straight here.�

McGonagall’s face dropped a little.

“How … how did you …?�

Harry knew what she was trying to ask, but had no idea where to begin. It seemed all too vivid and like a terrible blur at the same time. He couldn’t do this now, he couldn’t go back there, he didn’t want to have to remember what had been and why.

“It’s over,� he repeated.

McGonagall looked in his eyes and nodded.

“I have many things to do, in that case,� she said, her voice beginning to return to its usual briskness. “You should get some sleep.�

Harry, whose body was aching for rest but whose mind was far from it, began towards the door.

“Where shall I go?� he asked, realising his bed in Gryffindor Tower may not be available any longer, given his absence.

“To your dormitory, of course,� said McGonagall, and Harry thought he saw that smile creeping back onto her face. “We hadn’t given up on you quite yet, Potter.�

Harry nodded, more in gratitude than assent, and put his hand to the door knob to leave the room.

“Harry,� said McGonagall, and he swivelled round, slightly startled at the use of his first name, “I don’t know how you did it, and I also know that this doesn’t even begin to warrant a true congratulations, but … well done.�

Harry worked his face into a smile and left the office. As much as he wanted to feel proud for what he had done, the fact that he had just murdered another human being – however little there was of that left in Voldemort – would always be on his mind.

He made his way back to the Common Room and up to the boys’ dormitories. It was with the greatest sense of relief that he saw the four other boys in their beds, fast asleep and unaware of the great change to the world that had occurred that very day. Harry glanced over at Ron and was reassured by his steady breathing that he was enjoying a much more peaceful sleep than he had managed during his time with Harry whilst they were tracking down the Horcruxes. Harry was just thankful that he had gone on to do the final task alone; it was better that only he had to live with that.

He climbed into his bed, revelling in the warmth and comfort of the plush covers and soft mattress after a year of sleeping wherever he happened to be. Tomorrow was tomorrow. Now all he had to do was sleep. He had come home.

* * *

“HARRY!�

Harry raised a hand to rub his eyes whilst the other reached out to grab his glasses from beside the bed.

“YOU’RE BACK!�

Through his blurry vision, Harry made out the tall figure of Ron standing next to his bed, hardly seeming able to keep still.

“I – I have to go and get Hermione!� he cried, and he bounded out of the dormitory without another word.

Harry sat up in bed and leaned back against the wooden headboard. He could hardly believe quite how well he had slept, considering the circumstances, but did not have time to dwell on it as a moment later, Ron re-entered the room, followed by a beaming Hermione.

“Oh my!� she gasped. “You really are back!�

“Well I wasn’t going to lie, Hermione,� said Ron, sounding dejected but still grinning.

Hermione strode over to Harry’s bed and hugged him tightly, then leaned back, looked at him, and hugged him again.

“Easy there, Hermione,� muttered Harry, rubbing his ribs.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,� she said, looking at him nervously. “Are you hurt?�

“No,� said Harry quickly, “I’m fine.�

They all stared at each other for a few moments, then Hermione’s face broke into a wide smile.

“Ginny’s going to be so excited when she hears you’re back!� she told him, taking his hand and squeezing it slightly.

Harry’s insides lurched a little and he found himself looking away from his friends and gazing down at his fingers, which had started to twist his sheets into knots.

“What?� said Ron gruffly. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break up with her after she’s waited a whole year for you.�

“No!� said Harry, looking up at Ron. “It’s just …�

He fell silent again.

“Harry?� asked Hermione quietly.

“It’s just … do you think she still wants me? I mean we haven’t even been able to owl each other this past year, and I’m not exactly going to have the easiest life from now on and, you know, what if she’s changed her mind?�

After a second’s silence, Ron and Hermione both burst out laughing.

“Changed her mind?� said Hermione in a strained voice when she saw Harry frowning at them. “Harry, I don’t think you quite realise just how devoted Ginny is to you. Ever since we got back she hasn’t stopped asking about you: how you were when we left, exactly what happened when we were with you, were you hurt, were you scared, was there any chance that you might send an owl … I could go on.�

Harry, who had been worried that it might be too weird between Ginny and him after such a long time apart, was suddenly given a new lease of hope from these words, and jumped out of bed.

“Sorry, I have to get dressed,� he muttered, as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “Do you have any idea –?�

He was cut off as the dormitory door swung open enthusiastically and a large group of people piled in.

“Oh, sorry, Harry,� said Neville, who was at the front of the crowd looking rather pink in the face. “We heard you were back and wanted to hear about –�

He stopped talking abruptly and his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

“Did you kill You-Know-Who?� yelled a boy Harry hardly even recognised from the back of the group.

Harry, who had quickly pulled on a shirt when the group had come in, froze under their glare. Some of his closer friends were now looking embarrassed and trying to edge back towards the door, but several faces still stared at him intently, as though expecting a straightforward answer.

“I didn’t – you can’t –� started Harry, but he couldn’t think of the words to say what he was thinking.

He glanced at Hermione, who was looking as though she might hex the lot of them as they waited there gawmlessly.

“I think you should all go,� she said, her jaw clenched.

The people in the doorway began to leave the room, a few of them grunting some mumbled words of apology as they went.

“Sorry,� said Neville, who was the last to leave. “I heard from Parvati that you were back, Harry, and I was going to come up on my own, but then everyone else found out and …�

“Don’t worry about it, Neville,� said Harry, grateful for his genuine apology.

“Yeah,� agreed Ron, “it’s not your fault, it’s all those other idiots.�

Neville smiled timidly and went out.

Hermione moved over to Ron and put her arm around his back, leaning her head on his shoulder. That’s one couple that’s made it through this year, then, thought Harry.

“I suppose you two want to know what happened yesterday aswell, don’t you?� he asked them.

“Of course we do,� said Hermione, “but you’re not going to tell us until you’re ready so we weren’t going to ask, actually.�

Harry nodded.

“Thanks,� he said. “It’s really good to see you both. It felt so …�

He stopped, realising that this was the sort of thing that he usually thought, rather than said, but he knew he couldn’t stop now.

“… so lonely, without you there beside me.�

“It’s good to see you, too, Harry,� said Hermione softly, and she reached forward with her free arm and took his hand. “We were lonely without you, aswell.�

“Not quite the same thing, Hermione,� said Ron, smirking at Harry.

They went down to the Common Room, where a lot of people were still lingering, apparently waiting for Harry to come down.

“Shouldn’t you lot be in lessons by now?� called Ron, as some excited third-years began to descend on them.

Harry had completely forgotten that it was a week day, and that lessons would be scheduled as normal. As the crowd of Gryffindors began to disperse, he noticed that every other one was clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet, and would occasionally glance down at it then look back at Harry with open mouths and wide eyes.

“I wonder if my life will ever be normal,� he muttered to Ron and Hermione.

“Sorry, Harry, but I’m afraid we have lessons now, too,� said Hermione apologetically.

“Why don’t we just skip it, Hermione?� moaned Ron. “It’s only Potions.�

Hermione gave Ron a beseeching look.

“Um, well, it’s just –�

“It’s fine,� said Harry, saving her the excuse. “Seriously, just go.�

“Are you sure?� asked Ron, looking as if Harry might be just the excuse he needed to get out of double Potions.

“I’ll be fine,� repeated Harry. “I’ll see you later.�

Ron nodded and led an anxious-looking Hermione out of the portrait hole.

Harry looked around at the empty room and wondered what he should do now that he had time on his hands for the first time in a year. He supposed that he could join Ron and Hermione for Potions, but then realised that it would mean more staring, whispering and general attention from his classmates, and quickly decided against it. Hoping that he might find some inspiration as to how to pass the time, he went out into the corridor and started to wander through the hallways.

As he walked, Harry began to consider the possibility that Ginny might have a free period now, being a sixth year, and decided to make his way towards the library. He passed a few other students on his way, both of which had their heads down in a newspaper as they went by and didn’t even look up at him. Harry started to form ideas in his head of the kind of story that a Rita Skeeter-like journalist might have come up with from the little information they had gained about the events of the day before: the theories, the claims, the sensationalism into something trivial of some world-changing event. It was only when he heard a rustling noise as he stepped on a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet that he was able to see for himself what all the fuss was about. He flattened out the front page to see a picture of himself from a few years ago looking back at him furtively.

‘YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED?’ read the headline.

‘The wizarding world is waiting with bated breath to hear confirmation from Ministry officials of the final duel that is thought to have happened yesterday between He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his long-standing number-one enemy, Harry Potter. Speculation predicts that, after months of searching for the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Lived was finally able to finish him off in a ruthless and bloody battle last night, which Potter will have been training for since before the late Albus Dumbledore passed away last year. This show-down – if true as expected – will mean the fall of You-Know-Who’s followers and will certainly make Harry Potter even more of a hero than he already is.’

Great, thought Harry, that’s just what I need – more reason for the entire wizarding world to become Colin Creevey.

He kept walking, looking into a few classrooms as he went by, until –

He stopped abruptly outside a Charms classroom on the fourth floor. Looking in through the window in the door, he could see a few rows of the class inside, watching their teacher, who was out of sight, with glassy eyes. But Harry’s attention rested on the far side of the room. There, gazing out of the window, was Ginny, her red hair shining in the sunlight that was pouring over her and seemed to worship her and only her. Her dark, brown eyes were focused somewhere far away and she was deep in thought, or so it seemed, about something that others were not aware of, or could not fathom, or would try but fail to understand. Harry stared for what felt like hours, lost in the same far away place as the girl he was watching, until someone at the front of the class called her attention, apparently, and both she and Harry came back to the present with a bump.

Realising that any one of the students could look up at him and see him standing there, Harry moved away from the door. He didn’t want Ginny’s first impression of him after a year apart to be of a gawping idiot, nor was he quite sure yet just what he might say to her.

After a number of hours spent wandering aimlessly around the castle and its grounds, Harry finally realised that he was starving hungry, and habitually followed the comforting smell of hot food to the Great Hall. He was glad to find Ron and Hermione waiting in the Entrance Hall when he got there, but less so to feel dozens of eyes staring at him as they entered the Hall. It was almost packed, as it usually was around lunchtime, and they had a hard time battling through the hoards of people to get to the Gryffindor table. Harry was just about to take his seat when something stopped him. A mane of red hair flashed as its owner spun round at the other end of the table, and he saw Ginny’s face for the second time in all those long months. His eyes fixed on her as they had done before, and he suddenly became unaware of the people nearby, staring or shouting out at him. After a few moments, Ginny looked up from her conversation, as if pulled from it by his gaze, and their eyes locked on each other. She froze and her mouth dropped open, then she began to push purposefully through the groups of people in her way to get to the place where Harry was standing, still glued to the spot.

Happily oblivious to the hundred eyes on him, Harry smiled in ecstatic disbelief as she stopped in front of him and immediately flung her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly to her as his own arms wound around her waist.

“You’re back, you’re back,� she whispered in his ear as their bodies remained pressed together.

A glorious minute passed before she leaned back and looked him in the face again, resting her forehead on his. It was in that moment that the full weight of how much he had missed her hit him in its entirety. He was back, and he was never leaving again.

“Want to find some privacy?� asked Harry, not looking away from her for a second but aware of how many people were watching them.

“Weren’t you just about to have lunch?� replied Ginny, smirking at him.

Harry shook his head distractedly and led her out of the Great Hall, fighting his way through people who were reluctant to let them pass, and strode through the great, open doors into the castle grounds. At some point he had slid his hand into hers, and her touch reminded him of how much he was looking forward to them being alone, away from the hiss of gossip and the prying eyes.

They walked together in contented silence until they got to the bank of the lake, where they went down the slope to the very edge of the water and sat down. As the side of Ginny’s body shuffled next to his, Harry felt his stomach lurch a little as he realised that soon he would have to speak.

“Ginny, about the Prophet –� he started, but she cut him off.

“Harry, you don’t have to do this now,� she murmured in his ear. “Tell me another time, when it’s less … recent.�

Harry nodded and looked down at his hands.

“And anyway,� she continued, “I’d hate for you to ruin the moment by getting all serious on me.�

Harry looked up at her and she smiled, then leant back so she was propped up on her elbows, looking out at the lake. Harry watched her, grateful for the chance for them to at least get back to some kind of normality before he had to explain all that there was to explain. After a moment, her eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Go on, then,� she muttered.

“What?� asked Harry, unsure of what she meant.

“If there’s only one way for us to return to where we were, just do it.�

It suddenly became completely clear to Harry what Ginny was talking about, and he leant down and kissed her. They didn’t break apart until her head touched the long grass, and even then Harry was reluctant to pull away. The soft affection that Ginny was able to give him felt like the huge part of him that had been missing since last summer, and he was set on making up the time that they had lost.

“I’ve missed you so much,� he whispered through her hair.

“Likewise,� she murmured, kissing him behind the ear.

She pushed him onto his back and laid her head on his chest, her hand sliding over his stomach to his waist. Harry felt goosebumps run down his side as her hand slipped under his untucked shirt and rested on his bare skin, gently stroking it with her thumb.

“Can you believe it’s only been a year?� she said, as the fingers of the arm Harry had around her played with the long hair at the back of her head. “It feels like a lifetime since we were dancing under the stars in France.�

“It certainly does,� replied Harry.

They lay in silence for a long while, looking up at the clear blue sky, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Ginny spoke.

“Harry?� she murmured.

“Mm?�

There was a short pause.

“Never leave me again.�

Harry ran a hand through her hair.

“I won’t.�

Rumours and Rows

The day of Harry’s return did not remain as relaxed as it had begun. After spending a blissful lunchtime with Ginny, Harry was sent a message from Professor McGonagall for him to go to her office immediately, and he found himself knocking on the Headmistress’s door once more.

“Come in,� came McGonagall’s clipped tones from the other side. “Ah, Potter.�

Harry sat down opposite her and waited for her to speak. She flicked her wand and a tin of biscuits appeared, and she took one before continuing.

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you so soon,� she said, offering the tin to Harry, who took a Ginger Newt and began to munch it slowly. “You’ve probably realised what must happen next, but I daresay you won’t find it a problem. You see, whilst the Ministry and the Order are working together to quash any signs of a backlash after the fall of Voldemort, the rest of the wizarding world are still in the dark about exactly what is going on. I’ve spoken to the Minister, and he agrees that it is only fitting that the person to confirm what has happened should be you – the person who made it happen. Do you see?�

Harry nodded as he finished crunching his biscuit.

“Have another one,� said McGonagall, and she thrust the tin towards him.

“Thanks,� mumbled Harry.

“So, I’ve taken the liberty to arrange a little interview, of sorts, for this afternoon. I hope that this will be practical for you.� Harry nodded again. “I’m aware of how quickly this is all happening, but I believe that the public has a right to know as soon as possible, and it’s the end of term tomorrow, so I thought we ought to get it out of the way; are we agreed?�

“Yes, er, thanks,� said Harry, trying to imagine what he might say to an interviewer about the events of the day before.

“You’re quite welcome,� replied McGonagall, looking at her pocket-watch. “They should be here any minute. Would you like a drink?�

“Um, yes please,� muttered Harry, and a cup of tea appeared on the desk in front of him.

Harry took it, but he had hardly raised the mug to take a sip when there was a loud knock on the door. McGonagall stood up and went to open it, shaking hands with the man on the other side as he entered the office.

“Good afternoon, Mr Picket,� she said, conjuring up a chair next to Harry’s. “Please do sit down.�

“Thank you, Headmistress,� replied Mr Picket, taking a seat and turning to Harry. “Blimey, it’s really you.�

Mr Picket was a middle-aged man, slightly balding but with his hair combed over to cover the bare patch on the top of his head. He was holding a tatty leather holdall in one hand and a chewed biro in the other, which he stuck in his mouth before extending his arm to shake Harry’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter,� he said, the biro splitting up its side as he did so, “or should I be calling you the Chosen One?�

Harry strained his face into a smile before a grimace could form and forced a laugh. He thought he saw McGonagall give him an apologetic look as she sat back down in her chair. Mr Picket grinned widely at Harry, his eyes glancing up at his forehead and lingering there a moment before he took the pen out of his mouth and a notebook from his bag.

“Just got a few quick questions to ask ya,� he said, as if he was going to ask Harry his opinion of last night’s Quidditch game. “Shouldn’t take long. Then again, if you’re as quiet as you ‘ave bin so far, it might take a little longer than I’d anticipa’ed.�

Harry tried to smile again, but didn’t say anything.

“Righ’,� muttered Mr Picket, “so, we might as well start off with the burning question! I think ya’ know what’s comin’! Did you or did you not kill You-Know-Who last night?�

Harry faltered a little at this direct and rather flippant approach to such a life-altering question.

“Erm …� he started, looking away from Mr Picket’s concentrated gaze and glancing at McGonagall, who gave him a little nod. “I – I suppose so, but I don’t know whether you could really say – um – killed – because, well, I don’t know …�

Mr Picket’s face turned from eager to slightly perplexed at this rather anti-climactic answer.

“I think what Potter is trying to say,� said McGonagall, “is that it wasn’t just a simple Killing Curse that destroyed Voldemort.� Mr Picket winced slightly at the use of the name. “It took a great amount of time, gumption and courage.�

“Well, I wouldn’t say I was – I mean –� started Harry, but the Headmistress cut him off.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Potter,� she snapped, “stop being so bloody proud; of course it did.�

Harry fell silent and avoided her gaze as Mr Picket scribbled in his notebook.

“Ok,� he said when he had finished, “so, the next imminent question is how exactly you did it.�

This time Harry looked to McGonagall, and he thought he saw her roll her eyes at Mr Picket’s question, before giving Harry a less enthusiastic nod, which he took to mean ‘I suppose you’d better tell him’.

“Er, well –� began Harry, but he was cut off again, this time by Mr Picket.

“You haven’t been at school this year, is that right?�

“Yes, I had to – to find these, um –�

“Horcruxes,� said McGonagall sharply.
“Horcruxes?� replied Mr Picket, as though the Headmistress had lost her marbles.

“Yeah, Horcruxes,� said Harry, and the interviewer scribbled down the word in his book. “Voldemort split his soul into seven parts, called Horcruxes. I tracked down the ones that were left and destroyed them.�

“That’s what you’ve been doing all year?� asked Mr Picket, looking astounded. “We thought you’d been trying to find You-Know-Who!�

“No,� said Harry, “that was the easy part.�

Mr Picket looked happier now, and was jotting down his notes with more enthusiasm than before.

“You said ‘the ones that were left’; what happened to the others?�

“They had already been destroyed,� replied Harry.

“By who? When?�

Harry glanced at the portrait of Dumbledore on the wall and saw the old Headmaster sleeping soundlessly.

“One was a ring,� said Harry, “and it was destroyed by Albus Dumbledore, last year.�

Mr Picket nodded and wrote down this new information, then looked back to Harry expectantly.

“And the other?�

“Um, Tom Riddle’s diary,� muttered Harry, remembering for half a second the emaciated form of Ginny’s body lying at the foot of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, but pushing it to the back of his mind. “That was destroyed in my second year when – when someone was tricked by Voldemort into using it to open the Chamber of Secrets.�

“I see …� mumbled Mr Picket, as he scribbled energetically. “Yes, how intriguing … and the other Horcruxes? What were they?�

Harry counted them off.

“Voldemort’s snake, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup and Ravenclaw’s brooch.�

Mr Picket frowned.

“Interesting … nothing of Gryffindor’s?�

“No,� said Harry simply.

Mr Picket wrote down what Harry had told him, then stared at Harry with a gaze that seemed to be trying to reach friendliness, but failing.

“And how do you feel now?� he asked, in what he must have thought was a comforting tone.

“Different,� answered Harry.

“You must be relieved,� said Mr Picket.

“I suppose so,� said Harry.

There was a short pause as the journalist wrote down Harry’s reply.

“Surely you’re over the moon! I know I would be!� Mr Picket said happily, looking back to Harry.

“Well of course it’s a good thing,� muttered Harry, beginning to get slightly annoyed with Mr Picket assuming that he knew how he must feel. “I just think that this war might be over, but it could easily happen again. I mean, Tom Riddle was just one person; there are plenty of other dark wizards out there just waiting to turn into another Voldemort – all we can do is try and make sure they don’t get so powerful that they destroy as many lives as he did.�

Mr Picket watched Harry closely for a moment, and then began to scribble again.

“Yes, yes,� he mumbled, “that’s a fair point …�

McGonagall stood up abruptly, making both Harry and Mr Picket start.

“Perhaps you have enough to be going on with,� she said to Mr Picket, standing over him so that he looked so small, he stood up, too.

“Er, right, yeah,� he muttered, apparently not expecting to be sent away so soon. “I’d like to talk with you again some time, Harry, if you’re not too busy.�

“We’ll check the diary,� Harry heard McGonagall say dryly, so that Mr Picket couldn’t hear.

The interviewer stashed his notebook in his holdall and put the biro in his mouth again to shake Harry’s hand.

“I’ll be in touch,� he said, smiling uncertainly as he was followed to the door by Professor McGonagall.

“Thank you, Mr Picket,� said the Headmistress, opening the door and ushering him out, then shutting it behind him. “I don’t know about you, Potter,� she said, as she went back to her desk, “but I was beginning to find him rather irritating.�

* * *

The next morning, Harry went down to the Common Room to find – if it was at all possible – that even more people were staring at him than the previous morning. He went over to the armchair beside the fireplace and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that someone had left behind.

‘RUMOURS CONFIRMED: the ‘Boy Who Lived’ tells all,’ read the headline.

Harry tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table in front of him and sunk into the armchair. He could tell that it was going to be a hard day.

“All getting a bit much for the ‘Chosen One’, is it?� said Ginny, appearing from behind him and sitting on the table to face him.

“Don’t start,� muttered Harry, rubbing his face with his hands.

Ginny put her hands on his knees and leant towards him, trying to look through his fingers to his eyes.

“It’ll all pass soon enough,� she told him softly. “Give it a week or so.�

“A week?� replied Harry, taking his hands away from his face and staring at her. “Try eighteen years; not to say that they’ve got over that yet.�

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked away, glaring at some second-years who were lingering nearby, watching the couple closely.

“Problem?� she snapped, and they hurried away looking alarmed. “Look, Harry,� she said, her voice lowered, “they’re only interested because they admire you for what you’ve done, and they want to thank you. I think you’ve got to accept that everyone’s just found out that you destroyed the most feared dark wizard in the world a couple of days ago, and people are going to be talking about it.�

Harry sighed and watched her as she gazed at him, her brown eyes deep with sincerity. After a moment, he nodded and opened his arms to her, and she got up and sat down in his lap. Harry wrapped his arms around her and hid his face in all her red hair.

“Sorry,� he whispered.

“Don’t be,� she replied, interlocking her fingers with his. “You’re not a world hero to me, but you can be mine.�

Harry laughed and squeezed her tighter.

“That I don’t mind,� he muttered in her ear.

“Get a room.�

Ron and Hermione had just appeared from the boys’ staircase and Ron was watching his sister and Harry warily. Ginny scowled.

“Get over it,� she replied, getting up and stealing one last kiss from Harry. “Let’s go and get some breakfast.�

The four of them made their way down to the Great Hall where most of the students were eating early in order to save time for all the packing they had left until the last minute. Some friends called Ginny over and she went to sit with them, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to eat their breakfast together.

Although Harry could hardly have said that he had been a student at Hogwarts for their seventh year, it didn’t stop a twinge of sadness in his chest as he realised that this would be their last meal together at the Gryffindor table. As he ate his cereal he became aware that this thought seemed to have dawned on his two friends as well, as they were sitting rather quietly on either side of him; Ron was chomping his bacon and eggs with less vigour than normal, and Hermione hardly appeared to notice when the person next to her knocked their orange juice into her lap.

“Scourgify,� she mumbled, pointing her wand at her robes and watching as the orange stain faded a little but continued to linger.

Harry choked on his cereal, partly because he hadn’t been concentrating on swallowing properly and partly in complete shock at Hermione’s half-hearted and not awfully successful wand-waving.

“Why don’t we go for a fly?� he asked them when he had recovered. “It’s … sunny …�

Ron grunted in assent and Hermione shrugged, and they followed him out of the hall. They strode out into the grounds several minutes later, Harry and Ron with their brooms overs their shoulders and Hermione carrying a fat book.

“What are you reading again?� Ron asked her, taking the book. “Further Wizarding Education at the Liverwort Academy of Advanced Magical Studies: remind me what this place is?�

Hermione took the book back and sat down with it as they reached the Quidditch pitch and the two boys mounted their brooms.

“It’s where I’m going next year!� she said, and Harry suspected that she’d already told Ron five times. “To do the course in teaching Transfiguration!�

“Oh, yeah, that one,� muttered Ron. “I still think you should get a job, or you might never leave full-time education …�

Hermione scowled as Harry and Ron kicked off and soared into the air high above her. The familiar sensation in Harry’s stomach was exactly as it had always been when he pushed off from the ground ever since the very first time he’d flown a broom all those years ago. He ascended steeply, then tipped his Firebolt towards the earth and plummeted fifty feet until he had to pull up to avoid collision, his toes sweeping the grass for a few seconds before he began to gain height again. He and Ron looped and wheeled through the air for a while, until Harry started to feel guilty for leaving Hermione alone and signalled to Ron for them to return to the ground.

“How was the … air?� she asked as they sat down beside her.

Ron laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, taking the book from her and putting it on the grass.

“Good, actually,� said Harry.

“I never thought I’d say this,� said Ron, looking up at the castle, “but I’m going to miss this place.�

Harry nodded; he had been thinking the same thing, although he had always known that it would be one of the most difficult things that he would ever have to do when it came to leaving Hogwarts.

“I think we’ve made our mark,� said Hermione, a faint smile playing across her lips. “In fact, I’m not sure what they’re going to do without us, the amount of times we’ve saved the school: they should take us on full-time!�

“I’d do it,� said Harry, remembering all of their adventures at the school. “What’s life without a little danger?�

“I doubt we’ll ever know,� muttered Ron, “but as you say, maybe it’s for the best.�

Harry grinned and stood up, slinging his broom over his shoulder.

“Come on,� he said, “I bet you haven’t packed yet.�

“I have,� said Hermione, getting up and pulling Ron after her.

“Yeah,� muttered Harry, “I meant Ron.�

Ron shoved him, but then said: “Yeah, I haven’t…�

An hour later the entire school was piled on the platform in Hogsmeade, and Harry and Ron were attempting to haul their luggage onto the Hogwarts Express.

“Ron, be careful!� scolded Hermione. “You just knocked Crookshanks’ cage!�

Ron rolled his eyes but carefully lifted the cage over the other luggage and gave it to Hermione, who was watching from inside the train with Ginny. Harry lifted the last of the trunks aboard and followed the others as they searched for an empty compartment until they found one in the third carriage along.

“I suppose you two have Prefect Duty, don’t you?� said Harry to Ron and Hermione once they had stashed all their trunks in the luggage shelves.

“Yes, we do,� replied Hermione, “but only for an hour or so. We’ll see you around lunchtime.�

They went back out into the corridor, shutting the compartment door and leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

“So,� said Harry, sitting down next to her, “do you still want to … you know … ask me anything?�

“Do you want me to?� she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know,� said Harry, “I suppose I just feel as if you’ve missed out on this big part of my life and maybe you feel – I don’t know – left out.�

“Well, yes, Harry,� said Ginny, sitting up straight and turning to look at him, “I did miss out on this big part of your life because you thought it would be best not to tell me anything!�

Harry stared at her, completely taken-aback by this reaction.

“You said you were okay with it!� he cried. “You said you understood!�

“Of course I did!� said Ginny, her voice rising to a dangerous level. “I had to, didn’t I? You were leaving me for an indefinite amount of time – months, years even! How could I possibly let you leave thinking that I was mad that I wasn’t going with you, that I didn’t even know where you were going or why? I’ve spent the last year listening to everyone I know discussing their theories of what you were doing, asking me if you’d let anything on – I’ve had bloody Romilda Vane and the rest of her insufferable little crew harping on at me about when you would be back, and did I think we’d get back together or would you have found love elsewhere? – and there’s me all the while spending every minute of every day and night trying to convince myself that you would come back, that you would be okay, and trying desperately hard not to turn into Romilda Vane myself as I tried to get answers from Ron and Hermione, in the hope of any kind of consolation or comfort that I might get – but I got none, Harry! And I knew inside that I had to try and understand why you couldn’t tell me anything, but when I felt so miserable I just couldn’t, Harry, I couldn’t, and it made me so angry sometimes when I thought of how suddenly you’d left with no explanation, and it still does, Harry, it still does.�

She was standing up now and breathing heavily.

“I – I had no idea you –� Harry stuttered, but she cut him off.

“No, Harry, you didn’t, did you?� she snapped, tucking the hair that had come out of its ponytail behind her ear as if it had done something to offend her.

Harry gaped at her uselessy, desperate to think of something to say that might make her forgive him, but there was a part of him fighting against his struggle to console her, a part that was saying it wasn’t your fault, you made a promise to Dumbledore, you were only trying to protect her, but he knew that these words would only infuriate her further and the other side of him couldn’t think of anything worse than that in this moment.

Ginny’s face fell a little as she realised that he had nothing to say to her, and she flung open the door so that it crashed loudly into its frame, tucking her hair back behind her ear as she stormed out of sight. Harry, caught between wanting to yell at her with all the rage that was threatening to surface in him and wanting to run after her to beg for forgiveness, merely remained speechless. He hated himself for making her so upset but couldn’t help but feel as though he should have retaliated with his side of the story; after all, who was she to say that he should have told her everything before he left, after she had told him quite sincerely – or so he had thought – that she knew he must have good reason and that she’d wait for him, however long he was away for? Had it really been so unreasonable for him to believe her?

He stood up abruptly, thought about it, then sat down again. There was no point trying to talk to her now – she would be all riled up and he didn’t even know what he wanted to say, so it would probably end up with the situation getting worse, rather than better, which, although part of him was mad at her, he would prefer to being on the receiving end of one of her hexes. So he sat alone for an hour until Ron and Hermione returned from patrolling the train and asked why Ginny was playing Exploding Snap with her friends at the other end of the carriage while he sat there alone.

“We had a fight,� grumbled Harry, not ceasing in his activity for the past hour: staring out of the window.

“What about?� asked Ron, slumping down beside Harry and pulling a Chocolate Frog from his pocket.

“She’s mad at me for leaving last year,� said Harry, “which is really fair.�

“Well it sort of is,� said Hermione, sitting down opposite Harry.

Her comment made Harry’s gaze snap away from the passing countryside fix his glare on her.

“What?�

“Well, think about it,� Hermione continued, “you got back together, then the next day you tell her you’re not going back to Hogwarts, and the day after that you leave – she doesn’t know where you’re going, or why, or when you’ll be back – then you suddenly turn up after a year expecting everything to go back to normal! I think she’s right to be a bit annoyed.�

Harry could hardly get his words out.

“But I – I WAS DESTROYING VOLDEMORT!� he cried, standing up involuntarily.

“I know you were, Harry,� said Hermione quietly, “and I realise that there wasn’t exactly anything you could do about what you had to do – and Ginny probably does too, if she really stops to think about it – but that doesn’t necessarily stop her feeling a bit of resentment towards you for it.�

“But that’s completely stupid!� said Harry, realising he was standing up and sitting back down again. “If she knows there was nothing I could do then why did she have a go at me for it?�

Hermione seemed to be trying hard to prevent herself from rolling her eyes.

“Because,� she said, apparently trying to be patient, “this last year has been really hard on her, Harry – on all of us, in fact – and it will take us all a while to recover from it. You turning up out of the blue like that has probably turned Ginny’s emotions upside-down and it’s going to take her a while to get used to having you around again.�

Harry leant his forehead against the window-pane and watched as a bird-of-prey circled high above them. If Hermione was right – and she probably was – at least it meant that Ginny wasn’t really as mad as he had thought she was, and perhaps a bit of time and space would be all she needed to work that out.

“Hermione’s right, Harry,� said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chocolate, “Ginny’s not exactly one to think things through very thoroughly before she let’s them out of her mouth. She’ll get over it. Fancy a game of chess?�


A/N: Mr Picket's name comes from the name of the road where me and Liv's good friends live, which also happens to be the road used as Privet Drive in the HP films ...