I don't own anything in the Potterverse. I would like Ravensgryff to moderate this chapterplease.
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Euphoria gripped the wizarding world upon the “Official Ministry Announcement” that Voldemort had, once again, been defeated. The proclamation came several days after the battle at the Burrow, and in the days that followed the announcement, the Daily Prophet ran multiple articles detailing how exactly Voldemort had met his demise.
The stories revealed that the Aurors had acted quickly to subdue the Dark Lord when it was discovered that he was engaged in a duel in Ottery St. Catchpole, and described how they had managed, led by an Auror called Dawlish, to apprehend Voldemort alive, and to either kill or capture the vast majority of his minions.
Strangely, there was very little mention of Harry’s involvement in the battle. It was clear from the reports that Harry had been present, and had had a hand in the battle, but little more was actually said. The Prophet focused, instead, on the “marvelous leadership of our beloved Minster of Magic,” and how he and his tireless staff had led the wizarding community through one of its darkest times.
Hogwarts was soon far too caught up in the excitement of the perceived end of the war to mourn over the loss of Hagrid. Only days after the announcement that he had been killed, the festive mood of celebration, combined with the beautiful spring weather, had completely erased the sadness of just a couple of days before. That is, of course, with the exception of Harry, his friends, and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. For Harry, there had been just too many funerals and memorial services, too many deaths to deal with over the past several years, for him to believe it was over.
One must die at the hands of the other, kept running through his head, and he could not come to terms with the fact that Voldemort was still alive. He had not really completed the prophecy.
Wednesday morning dawned and Harry wearily arose after yet another dreadful night’s sleep. Classes that day had been cancelled for the memorial service for Hagrid. Harry, along with Ron and Neville, dressed in his best dress robes for the occasion. The school would have a service in the Great Hall, and then there would be a small service at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Hagrid’s ashes would be scattered later that day.
Harry had very little desire to attend the big service. He had been a much bigger object of comments among his fellow students since the fall of Voldemort. Although the Prophet didn’t seem to acknowledge his efforts, the student body had come to their own conclusions. They had decided that the “Chosen One” must have defeated Voldemort, and so, as Harry walked the halls, all eyes would turn to him. The constant staring was unbearable, even for him, used to it since his first year.
Instead of attending the public ceremony, he and the others would go to the private service. He, Ron and Neville quietly made their way down to the common room to wait for the girls. Neville looked pale.
“All right there, Neville?” Ron asked as they took their seats in front of the fire.
“Not really. Parvati and I had a big row last night. She doesn’t understand why I won’t go to the service with her in the Great Hall,” Neville responded. “I told her that I wanted to go with you guys to the private one, but she’d have none of that. She doesn’t want to spend all day, you know, feeling sad about Hagrid.”
“Humpff,” Harry intoned.
“Why can’t you do both?” Ron questioned.
Neville shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, I would, but she was already so mad at that point…” he trailed off.
“So what, she thinks you are choosing Harry over her or something?” Ron questioned.
Neville turned slightly pink. “Actually, she thinks I’m choosing Luna over her.”
At this point, Ginny and Hermione made their entrance, both wearing black dress robes.
“Have you all seen the Prophet this morning?” Hermione inquired.
Neville, seemingly thankful for the change in subject, answered, “No, what’s it say?”
Taking her seat, Hermione began, “Well, the front page is just a big picture of Scrimgeour breaking Voldemort’s wand.” She showed them the paper, and indeed the Minister of Magic was standing upon a raised platform in the Atrium of the Ministry, smiling broadly and breaking the wand of the most feared Dark Wizard of the age.
“Seems like he’s going to try and milk this for all it’s worth, and the prat didn’t even help,” Ron spat.
“I think that public opinion is in agreement with you there, Ron,” Hermione announced, opening the paper and showing an article on page three.
The Chosen One, The Real Hero
The Ministry is being overrun with questions concerning why Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived twice, has not received his fair share of the accolades for the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named. Over the past several days, reports have surfaced from Aurors who were on the scene, explaining that when they arrived, You Know Who was already unconscious. It was only left for them to bind him and take him into custody. Ministry officials, speaking anonymously, have reported that You Know Who’s condition is not the result of any spell they can determine, and certainly not one from the standard Aurors’ training handbook.
When asked about these reports, Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, remarked that she has “no knowledge of any of this and anyone looking to promote his own celebrity would do well to remember the danger of spreading lies.”
To a follow-up question about who might be looking to promote his own celebrity, Ms. Umbridge simply smiled and responded, “Well, who would have the most to gain from CLAIMING that he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named again?” This obvious reference to Harry Potter did not go unnoticed by the assembled media, although Ms. Umbridge refused to name names, or go into further detail.
Ms. Umbridge’s comments notwithstanding, the evidence clearly builds that Harry Potter is the true hero in the defeat of You Know Who and deserves to be honoured for his achievement. It is also clear that the public is beginning to clamour for him to be recognized as the hero he is.
This story continued on page twelve.
Harry was stunned as he sat on the couch, holding Ginny’s hand. Hermione folded the paper and tossed it into the fire before looking at Harry and starting to speak again. “Just wait, Harry, they are going to want to give you the Order of Merlin for this.”
All the colour drained from Harry’s face. He thought this was a possibility, but it was something he didn’t want. He was about to reply when a very gruff looking Parvati came around the corner.
“Neville, can I speak with you?” she said, although it didn’t sound like a request. She then seemed to notice the rest of the group, “Oh, good morning all,” she announced, fixing a smile on her face.
Neville got up and walked to other side of the room with Parvati in tow.
Harry went back to his reply. “I don’t want the Order of Merlin. I didn’t finish the job.” He had finally voiced his concern and with that, it all came rushing out. “The prophecy says that one of us has to kill the other. As far as I can tell, neither of us is dead, so I don’t really think this is over yet.”
Ron and Hermione sat with bemused looks on their faces. Ginny squeezed his hand as she began to speak. “Harry, you said yourself that you felt his mind break, that his connection to the Death Eaters was destroyed. Maybe he isn’t dead, but maybe, since he doesn’t have their strength, and his mind is…erm, well… maybe that is as good as dead.”
Harry could tell she was trying to convince herself of this as much as she was trying to convince him. “I know this isn’t over. I don’t know when I’ll have to face him again, but he isn’t dead, so the prophecy is not fulfilled yet.”
The others in the group all nodded in agreement. Harry could feel that, deep down, they all knew that the story wasn’t over and that the real final battle was still in the future. He smiled”the first smile in the last several days”when he realized once again how much his friends cared for him.
The loud crack of the portrait hole closing brought Harry out of his reverie. He noticed that Neville was standing by the fireplace, looking paler than he had earlier. Parvati was nowhere to be seen, so Harry assumed it was she who had slammed the portrait hole shut.
Hermione was the first to venture a question. “Are you two all right?”
Neville let out a long breath. “No, not really. She seems to think that I don’t want to be with her, and that you lot, more specifically Luna, are more important to me than she is.”
“So it’s over then?” Ginny inquired sympathetically.
“I don’t really know; she didn’t say one way or the other.”
They sat there for another ten minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, with Neville standing and staring into the fire.
Finally, Ron spoke up. “We need to go. The private service will start soon and we have to meet Luna downstairs.”
They all got up to leave, with Harry still wondering when the war would really come to an end.
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Days turned into weeks and May slipped into June with no further stirrings from Voldemort. All but three of his Death Eaters had been accounted for, along with almost all of people who had been missing for so long. Unfortunately, most were found dead, with only Florean Fortescue being found alive.
He explained that he had been kidnapped by Death Eaters in an effort to get information about Hogwarts, since his great-grandfather had been a headmaster of the school. When it was finally determined that Fortescue truly had no information, Severus Snape had been ordered to kill him, but instead hid him in a secret room in his house at Spinner’s End for months.
The only person still missing was Mr. Ollivander, and no one seemed to have any knowledge of his whereabouts, or whether he was alive or dead. The worst was feared for the old wandmaker when it was learned that Voldemort himself was the last to see him alive.
The Weasleys seemed to be slowly”very slowly”recovering from the revelations of their third son. Percy was in the Ministry, along with several other captured Death Eaters. Harry had learned from Charlie that Mr. Weasley had attempted to visit him on several occasions, only to be rejected without so much as a word.
“Mum’s in a right state,” Charlie had explained. “She is putting up a strong front, but when I went to see her for dinner the other night, she seemed on the verge of tears constantly. I heard her and dad talking, and she is actually blaming herself for what he did.” Charlie’s face had turned red. Ron snapped his quill in two upon hearing this, and went on a several-minute-long rant about Percy, which culminated in a third year’s book being chucked out the window.
After this incident, however, the Weasleys began to show signs of improvement. By the first of June, they had almost recovered.
It seemed that the more time that passed without Voldemort awakening, the more confident Harry got that he may actually have finished with him. The final three weeks of school had finally arrived, and for Harry and his friends this meant a whirlwind of activity. N.E.W.T.s were scheduled for the next to last week of school, with the final Quidditch match of the year set for the Saturday of that week. It would be Slytherin against Gryffindors for the cup, as usual.
Added to the mix was a special Ministry ceremony, in which Harry was to receive the Order of Merlin, Second Class. Scrimgeour had finally succumbed to public pressure, and gave a full recounting of Voldemort’s defeat for the Prophet.
“It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?” Ron mentioned in a puzzled tone, as Hermione folded the paper. “I mean, the Ministry has been saying that you didn’t really do anything, and now they want to give you the Order of Merlin. What’s old Scrimgeour playing at?”
Hermione laid the paper on the table and began to explain, “I think they have realized that the public is not going to believe that Harry didn’t have anything to do with the battle with Voldemort. So they had to change their approach. Instead of downplaying Harry’s role, they are going to try and use him to make themselves look good. They will get pictures of him standing with the Minister of Magic and try to gain as much good will as possible.”
“No, they won’t,” Harry announced as he sat at the table, a large grin playing across his face. “I just owled the Ministry, informing them that I would not be able to attend their little ceremony and that they can keep their medal.”
Ron looked stunned by this revelation. “So you aren’t going to accept the Order of Merlin either?”
“Nope,” Harry replied. He then reached for a stack of bacon and began loading down his plate.
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N.E.W.T.s were scheduled to begin on Monday morning. They would consist of each seventh-year student sitting for a three-hour oral exam, with Ministry representatives asking questions. Each student would be questioned in the areas that they had focused on during their sixth and seventh years. More than one exam would take place at the same time, in order to accommodate all the seventh-year students.
Hermione was slated for Monday at nine in the morning. Harry’s had been set for one Tuesday afternoon and Ron’s was set for Thursday at three.
As Monday morning dawned, it was clear that Hermione was feeling the pressure of her impending exam. Ron and Harry entered the Great Hall to find her trying to eat breakfast. She did not seem to be having much success. Ron paused for a minute, noting the tension on Hermione’s face. Harry had seen it too, and he could feel it, even without making a connection to her.
Harry watched as Ron pulled out his wand, took a napkin from the table, and transfigured it into a beautiful red rose. He walked up to Hermione, and without saying a word, placed the rose on one of the many books she was reading. Harry stayed back, not wanting to intrude on this moment. Instead, he watched as his two closest friends embraced, a great smile filling Hermione’s face. She took the rose and smelled it, closed the book, and finished her breakfast, holding hands with Ron. How did they get to this point? Harry wondered. His mind went over memories of their rows in the common room, the classrooms, the Quidditch pitch, and truly everywhere else. Now Ron was a caring, thoughtful young man, and Hermione was closing books to talk with him. Harry shook his head and smiled as he approached the table.
“Morning, Harry, why didn’t you come down with Ron?” Hermione asked. The colour had returned to her face, but Harry could still feel the tension she harboured over the exam.
“I did, but I didn’t want to interrupt Mr. Romance here.”
Ron blushed slightly, but said nothing. He and Harry tucked in for breakfast, while Hermione, who had finished, began to study again. The table was quiet as most of the students had already rushed off to morning classes. Ginny barely made it down to breakfast before having to go to Potions.
The only students left in the Great Hall were seventh years. Harry was finishing his third plate when an all too familiar sound caught his attention.
“Hem, hem,” came a girlish little cough from just behind Harry. He slowly turned and found the toad-like form of Dolores Umbridge smiling sweetly down at him.
“Good morning, children,” she exclaimed in her sickeningly sweet voice.
“Good morning, Professor,” they replied out of habit from their fifth year. Harry felt revulsion as soon as he said it.
“You aren’t here for the N.E.W.T.s, are you?” Ron asked.
“Oh no, dear boy. I am here to speak with Harry about an urgent matter. Harry, we just received your owl informing us that you are not planning on attending your ceremony. We at the Ministry are most disturbed about that, and hope that you will reconsider.”
Her voice never changed from the girlish, friendly tone she almost always used. Harry could see, however, the hardness in her eyes. This was not a request to reconsider, but a demand to attend the event. He was about to reply, when the Great Hall’s doors slammed open.
“What in the bloody hell is this all about!” shouted Charlie Weasley as he stormed into the room.
McGonagall was right at his heels. “Professor Weasley, we cannot have you using that sort of language in this school.”
Charlie looked around the room for several seconds, and finally spotted his target. He marched over to Umbridge, rage evident on his face. “What is the meaning of this? Why do I have four goons from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures taking custody of one of the school’s Hippogriffs?”
“Which Hippogriff, Charlie?” Harry inquired, a nervous tinge entering his voice.
“Witherwings,” Charlie responded, surprised by the question. “Why?
Umbridge, having observed Harry’s reaction, smiled. “The Ministry believes that Witherwings is in fact Buckbeak, a Hippogriff that has been declared too dangerous to live. He was scheduled to be destroyed some four years ago, but mysteriously disappeared just before his execution.”
“That’s ridiculous, you smarmy sack of””
“Professor Weasley!” McGonagall interrupted. “Dolores, why have I not been informed about this?”
“Why, Minerva, I sent you a copy of the order. It must not have been delivered yet. And I would appreciate you using my correct title in front of the children.” That voice was really beginning to make Harry nauseous.
McGonagall was showing signs of losing her temper at this point, while Charlie was barely keeping his anger in check. “In that case, I would appreciate being addressed as Headmistress McGonagall. And I can assure you that I have not received any such correspondence, Madam Undersecretary.
Harry thought he saw an actual snarl approaching the headmistress’s mouth. He was impressed, though, by the fact that she never lost her composure.
“Oh? Well, I have a copy here as well.” She handed a roll of parchment to McGonagall, grinning at Harry all the while. “You will see that all is in order.”
Pursing her lips, McGonagall read the notice. Charlie was more impatient. “So, what do we do now?”
“Well, that is quite simple. We will determine whether or not this creature is indeed Buckbeak. If he is, then we will fulfill the order to execute him. If not, he will be returned to Hogwarts, no harm done. I believe it will take just a few days to determine the creature’s true identity.” She looked meaningfully at Harry. “So, shall we say, Saturday? After the Ministry’s ceremony?”
Harry’s shoulders dropped as he realized that he would now have to go to the ceremony, in order for Buckbeak to live. “Fine,” he spat.
“Wonderful, the Minster will be so pleased!” she exclaimed. “Have a lovely day, children.” Harry watched as the toad-like woman marched out.
“What was that all about?” Charlie asked, still red and very angry.
“I have to go that stupid ceremony. If I go, then you will be able to take Witherwings back here. If I don’t, they are going to kill him.” Harry simply shook his head in dejection. “Will you two go with me?”
“Of course, we didn’t let you take on Voldemort alone; we won’t let you face this alone either,” Ron responded bracingly.
Hermione then jumped up. “Oh dear, I have to go to my exam!” She gave Ron a quick kiss and ran to the door.
Harry raised his mental walls as he focused on Hermione. All the tension had returned as she made her way to classroom number four on the second floor. You’ll do great, Hermione. You are the smartest witch of this age. Ravenclaw herself would have had a hard time matching you.
A rush of embarrassment came over Hermione as she entered the classroom and Harry knew that her cheeks must be flaming red at the compliment. It had served its purpose, however, because as she sat down in front of her examiners, the tension seemed to melt away from her and her confidence overflowed.
Thanks, was the last thing he heard before closing off the link.
“So, are we going to study?” Ron asked with a slight grin.
Harry chuckled. “We could, but I could also thrash you at chess, if you like.”
Ron laughed as they left for the common room to enjoy three hours of not studying.
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A/N: Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, as we work our way to the end. Harry still has some work trials to face. Thanks as always to my wonderful pre-betas, cableguysmom and Kerrbear. Also major thanks to my betas Ginny Guerra and JenC. I also need to start thanking Ravensgryff for moderating this story and giving lots a wonderful insights. Thanks ladies, I couldn’t do it without you.
Up Next, N.E.W.T.s , the Quidditch final and one of the six has to the Hospital Wing.