Chapter Text
When Harry looked back on the night textbooks would name "The Battle Of Hogwarts," he remembered only bits and pieces. Sirius and Remus would tell him that this wasn't surprising, and presumably his brain had blocked a lot of it out to protect him. That was possible, but Harry rather thought that everything had happened so suddenly that it would have taken at least a dozen viewings of his memories in a Pensieve--should he have wished to put himself through that--before he could begin to understand events.
As usual, he felt that he'd been left out of the loop.
Of course, in this particular case, the "loop" consisted of a network of Death Eaters. While Dumbledore may have relied on Severus Snape in the past for such information, it appeared that he had lost favor.
What Harry did remember was the sudden invasion of the school. The fighting. Dumbledore being killed by Bellatrix, falling from the Astronomy Building as her hex hit him in the heart.
Voldemort's cry of...agony? Triumph? It was unclear. Only that he'd wanted Draco Malfoy to kill the headmaster, not Bellatrix Lestrange.
Harry remembered Sirius trying to persuade, then beg, him not to surrender himself to Voldemort.
It appeared that Voldemort known about the loss of at least some of his horcruxes. Had that been what had caused the sudden attack on the school? Or had it all been planned?
"I will give you one hour to surrender Harry Potter to me," he'd hissed. "And after that, I will begin to kill your students. The choice is yours and yours alone."
Harry did not hesitate. And when the Killing Curse hit him, he was suddenly in a beautiful meadow. And his parents were there. Oddly enough, they didn't look much older than him. But, as he'd remember later, they were only twenty-one when they died.
"Mum! Dad!" he cried, running towards them.
They were real, solid. Nothing compared to photos or seeing them in a Pensieve. Harry felt it as soon as they hugged him. His dad's hug, in particular, felt like Sirius's. Warm, strong, protective.
Harry realized that they both had tears running down their faces. His mum hugged him again, a good, long hug, and when she broke it off, the tears were still falling down her face.
Funny. Harry hadn't felt any on his face.
"Am I...dead?" he asked.
The question should have felt awkward, but it wasn't. His mum and dad smiled at him, but his mum sighed.
"We want you to stay with us," she said, looking at him with longing, "and you can choose to. But you can also go back."
"I can go back?" Harry asked, dumbly.
Or, perhaps, distracted by the beauty and joy around him.
Not to mention his parents.
His father placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "It's up to you, prongslett. You can stay, Harry, or you can go back. We'll be here...and we can wait."
"Yes," his mum promised, with another sigh. His dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and this seemed to help. "We can wait."
"But..." Harry's mind was not fuzzy, exactly, but not fully comprehending everything. "If I go back, will it be all right? Voldemort--can I kill him?"
His parents looked at each other, then at him. Perhaps, they weren't allowed to say. Perhaps, they just didn't know.
"Okay." Harry took a deep breath, or what felt like one. Did those in between life and death breathe? "I'll see you...soon."
"Harry. Tell Sirius to forgive himself," James instructed. "And tell Snape--Severus--how sorry I am. Tell Remus...that to have hope."
Lily nodded. "Yes. And please, Harry, tell Severus that he has my forgiveness, and that I am sorry."
Harry tried to smile. "I'll try to remember it all."
There were laughs, then.
Then, his dad pulled him aside. "My time was cut painfully short with your mum in life. We've been watching you. Don't wait."
Harry was sure he was beet red. "Dad!"
"He's right." Lily looked at her husband, then at Harry. There was still longing in her voice. "Ginny's a lovely young woman."
Harry hugged them again, fiercely. And then, he closed his eyes.
When they opened again, it felt as though he'd been asleep. He could feel the warmth of where he'd been, and now the cold of the castle. Not physical cold--it was late June, after all. But the presence of Voldemort and the Death Eaters and...and Dumbledore was dead.
What chance did they have now?
But, suddenly, a power came over Harry. And he knew that just as his mum's sacrificial love made it so that no one could touch Harry with the intent to harm him and not get burned, his sacrifice gave the entire castle a similar power.
He stared up at the sky, and then stood up.
"Hello, Tom Riddle," he said, calmly.
It wasn't, he knew, smooth sailing. Even after Snape killed Nagini, which had occurred just after Voldemort had sent the killing curse towards him, Voldemort still had incredible power.
Then, of course, there were the Death Eaters.
But Sirius sent the curse towards Bellatrix that knocked her out, and Tonks took care of her from there. Other Order members dueled with Death Eaters, assisted by students, mostly DA members. Some died, like Colin Creevey.
Most did not.
When Voldemort sent another attempt of the killing curse towards Harry, it rebounded on him, and this time, he was truly gone.
Some Death Eaters survived. About half fled, a half of the remaining were killed, and the final fourth pled for mercy.
Professor McGonagall crisply told them that the Ministry would be dealt with them.
In the meantime, it was well past curfew.
Harry felt like he could sleep for weeks. The next several days passed in a haze, with Sirius (and sometimes Remus) rousing him long enough to get him to eat something. More than once, he felt the need for the loo, and remained alert for long enough to make the journey there and back.
It was rather fitting that he fully came to the day before exam results were posted. Madam Pomfrey doused him with potions, because there was no telling what a toll "almost dying" took on his body.
"Are you all right?" Sirius asked, once he'd finished the last of them, and at least a gallon of water.
"I think so. It was all a bit hazy." He frowned. "Sirius? I saw my parents."
"I'm not surprised." He chuckled. "Did they--what did they tell you?"
Harry frowned, trying to remember their instructions. He finally settled, for now, to say what he knew he remembered.
"It was my choice to come back, they said. And they'd see me again if I did," Harry added. "They had stuff for me to tell you...and Remus...and Snape. It's all sort of blurry, now."
"There's no rush," Remus spoke up. "Get some rest, Harry. Lord knows you need it."
Harry laughed. Weakly. "I do rather feel like I've been run over by a Hippogriff."
Sirius chuckled. "Might have experienced something like that with Buckbeak." At Harry's questioning look, he promised, "Soon. Once you've gotten some sleep."
Never mind that Harry had been doing little but that since he'd returned to his body. He closed his eyes.
Perhaps it was the potions working, or the after effects, or the fact that they were now out of his body--or so he assumed. When Harry woke up next, again feeling the pressing urge to use the loo, he felt far more like himself.
Once again, though, the next few days passed in somewhat of a haze. Snape, he learned, had destroyed Nagini, but it nearly killed him. He was still in the hospital wing, alive but hardly waking for more than a few minutes at a time.
"I visited him, about a week ago. Didn't go well," Sirius admitted. "I didn't stay long."
"Do you know...why it took so much out of him?" Harry asked, between bites of a sandwich.
"Destroying a horcrux is a mental battle even when it's in an inanimate object," Remus began. "It contains a piece of the person's soul, and it very much does not wish to be destroyed. One of the most dark forms of magic, horcruxes. But when it's in a living creature?" He made a pained face. "He's lucky to be alive."
"Then, they're all gone?" Harry asked. "And Voldemort, as well?"
"Indeed. No doubt, Potter, you will receive another trophy to add to your collection."
The voice came from Snape. Funny, even barely awake, and obviously struggling to speak, the man could still be frightening.
"Severus, you're awake," Remus said, genially.
He snorted. "I've been telling Poppy that I don't require any more potions."
The matron stormed over. "Oh, yes you do, Severus! In fact, you're due for another dose..."
Snape groaned and growled, but drained the goblet without complaint--and looked rather better afterwards.
"He's right, though," Sirius told Harry. "The horcruxes are all destroyed, and your sacrifice was enough to kill him for good. Not that you should have needed to do so..."
"It's all right. Really. I saw my parents," Harry said. "They felt real--solid. They hugged me, told me I could go back."
Snape snorted again. "And you clearly chose that option, which will no doubt lead to a more inflated head than your father's ever was..."
"Sni--" Sirius began, but Harry put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't. Please."
Sirius's gaze softened. "All right, pup."
"Sirius?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering. At his nod, Harry went on, making sure to keep his voice low, "Dad told me to tell you to forgive yourself."
Sirius chuckled. "Working on it."
Harry would tell Snape his mum's message after he got out of the hospital wing.
Exam results came out the next day. For the first time, his marks were within a few points of Hermione's. Ron's weren't far behind him.
But his initial happiness quickly faded--as did most of the sixth years. As though a reminder of the war, a large number of names had been crossed out. Casualties of the attack on the castle. Among them in his year were Parvati Patil, Eloise Midgeon, Justin Finch-Fletchy, Draco Malfoy, and a few others who he didn't immediately recognize. Harry felt rather mixed feelings about Malfoy's death. His father, he knew, had also been killed, but his mother had survived.
Not that students had been the only ones to be killed. Dumbledore had been the first (although Harry later learned that because of the ring's curse, he likely would have died within weeks, months at most), but Professors Sinistra and Grubbly-Plank.
Professor Snape placed his resignation at the end of the year. Whether it was due to the curse on the position or the threat of Voldemort finally gone, he felt he had fulfilled his duty to Dumbledore, Harry wasn't sure. But he stopped by his office as soon as he heard. Memories came back of doing the same thing three years prior, when it had been Remus.
"Don't hover outside, Potter," he said, but there was no malice in his voice.
Feeling his face redden, he obeyed. "Sir."
The teacher stared at him. "Yes, what is it?"
He still looked weak, Harry realized. But he was able to stand without aid, and was even packing on his own.
"Excuse me," came a female voice. "I'll leave you to speak privately."
Professor Burbage, Harry remembered. She teaches Muggle Studies.
Rather a small miracle that she'd managed to survive the war...
"See you in a bit, Severus. Good day, Potter," she added, with a smile.
"Yes, Potter, what is it?" Snape asked, once she was gone and his office door was firmly closed.
"Sir, when I was... I expect I died... well, I saw my parents."
"Did you." His voice sounded almost bored.
"They had messages for you," Harry continued. "Do you want me to tell you?"
Dark eyes blared into his. "Proceed, then."
Harry repeated his father's apology, his mother's, and finally, his mother's forgiveness.
A silence hung in the air.
"Well, I'll go, then..." Harry turned to leave.
"Stop."
Harry obeyed, never mind that he wasn't a teacher anymore and had no authority.
"Your mother and I, up until that fateful day when I made that utterly foolhardy statement, were close friends. I was the one who told her she was a witch." At Harry's silence, he gave a small chuckle. "I knew your aunt, too."
"Will you--could you tell me about her?" Harry asked. Before Snape could respond, he went on. "Sirius told me about my dad, but my mum..."
His voice caught, and he forced himself to shut his mouth. He wasn't going to cry in front of Snape.
Snape, who was studying him like he was...well, Harry wasn't sure what.
"Have a seat."
He left more than an hour later, his mind racing. In addition to spending that time telling Harry about his mum, Snape had given him an incredible gift--a vial of memories about her.
"To borrow only. I expect them to be returned by owl before the end of your summer holidays," he warned. With a very, very small smile, he added, "I know where to find you, Potter."
"Yes, sir. I will, I promise," he assured him.
Snape nodded. "If you wish, after they are back, I can provide you with a copy."
Harry's mouth formed a smile. "Thank you, sir."
Lessons resumed, and the absence of his classmates showed in the class size. A few teachers looked stricken at times, even if they tried to hide it. Rita Skeeter tried to get into the castle grounds for interviews, but McGonagall kept her out--her last hex was such a powerful one that Harry thought she might have broken a few limbs.
Finally, there was the end of term feast. As with the previous two years, there was no house winner, only solemn decorations to commentate the losses of the students and teachers. There was still a feast, though.
Harry still had to return to Privet Drive, but he knew that it would only be for a couple of weeks. Then, he'd join Sirius at Grimmauld Place. Probably, he'd be spending a lot of the summer doing homework and preparing for NEWTs, but at least, he'd be prepared. If he wanted to be an Auror, he'd need top marks.
"See you at the station," Sirius promised, giving him a hug. "Have some chocolate frogs for me!"
Harry grinned. "I'll save you some."
As he boarded the train, he felt a sense of relief. Voldemort was gone, and this summer at the Dursleys would be his last. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were waiting for him in a compartment.
"Think our next year will be free from death and destruction?" Ron asked, cheerfully.
"Mine will," Ginny said, grinning. "But you lot have NEWTs to look forward to."
Harry groaned, but he returned her smile. "The fun never ends, does it?"
She returned his grin, and blushed.
When Ron and Hermione went into the corridor to buy treats, Harry gently pulled Ginny aside.
"Ginny, I know the next Hogsmeade weekend won't be until October, but do you want to go together? Like, a date?"
She nodded. "Sure, Harry."
The End