Chapter Text
It's been a month since the Second Wizarding War, or The Battle of Hogwarts. Professor Minerva McGonagall was standing at the site of her old desk, remembering the room it used to belong in. The large stone fireplace in the wall and windows that used to overlook the Quidditch grounds. She remembered concealing the door on the opposite wall that connected her office to her stone-floored bedroom. Now it was nothing but an old ruin, fragments of the stone and wood that made up her bookcases, desks, floors, and walls. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. She had come up to her old office for a reason, and she wouldn't let her emotions get in the way of protecting what's left of her school.
McGonagall reached into her robes and pulled out a galleon and her wand. Slowly and carefully, she points it up and closes her eyes.
"Aguamenti," she said, clearly. Her eyes opened to see a stream of clear water protruding from her wand. The sunlight coming in through the many cracks in what used to be her ceiling. She waited until the air around it formed a rainbow and flipped her galleon into it. She watched as it disappeared into the rainbow. Oh, Iris, McGonagall thought to herself, Goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering. Then as it started shimmering, she calmly said, "Chiron." After a second or two of the rainbow shimmering, she watched as a large centaur appeared in the rainbow.
"McGonagall... Why are you contacting me? Why now? What's happened?" Chiron asked, worriedly. McGonagall sighed and looked around her old office. Slowly, she looked back at the Iris Message.
"Chiron, we need to talk," she said, quietly.
~ ~ ~
Harry laid on his back on his bed, twirling his wand in his hands as he studied the ceiling. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the opposite bed. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had spent the last month at The Burrow, since he hadn't wanted to return to the Dursleys, and Hermione had realized that she couldn't return home after she erased her parent's memories. Just like before, Hermione had been staying in Ginny's room, just like Harry had been staying in Ron's. Every once in a while, the ghoul that stayed in the Weasley's attic would come down and play around in his room.
Harry shifted positions to look at his friends. Hermione had opened up a spell book she kept in her purse and flipped to a random page, studying the spells. Ron was half asleep, waking up every now and then because of the thumps coming from the ceiling. Harry groaned and sat up, resting his head on the headboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sympathetic glance from Hermione, and he closed his eyes. After the war, Harry hadn't known who felt the hardest blow out of the three friends.
Aside from the Dursleys, Harry had no family left. He had felt this feeling before, but now it was almost entirely true. Sirius was gone, and so were Lupin and Tonks. All he had left now were the people at Hogwarts, who he might not ever see again, and the Weasleys. Even Snape was gone. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty after Snape's death. The entire seven years at Hogwarts, Harry was convinced that Snape had been out to get him, but all the while all he wanted to do was protect Harry. Snape's last words haunted Harry every waking moment and sometimes is followed into his dreams.
The Weasley family had lost Fred, which was a huge defeat. George hadn't been the same since the war. On the outside he seemed the same way he always was: he owned the Weasley Wizard Wheezes and he tried his hardest to crack jokes whenever possible, to try and ease tension during family discussions. Since Harry shared a house with him, however, and managed to stay up until the early hours of the morning, every now and then he could hear quiet sobbing echoing throughout the burrow.
Hermione had almost no one left. All she had was Harry and the Weasleys. After she erased her parents' minds, removing all traces of herself from their memories, she had no one else to go to other than the Weasleys. She stayed with Ginny and sometimes Harry would hear them stay up and talk. He couldn't hear them clearly, but usually, the conversations sounded dark. There were rare moments, however when he would hear Hermione and Ginny laughing from the first floor. The sound of real genuine laughter was the only thing keeping each of the three friends sane.
"Hey Harry," Hermione said, out of the blue. Harry lifted his eyebrows in response. "What does the spell Rictum Sempra do?" Harry chuckled a little, as he remembered using that spell in his second year when Gilderoy Lockhart, the arrogant wizard author, became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and started a dueling club. Harry had used the spell against Malfoy, who had doubled over, wheezing and laughing.
"Its a tickling charm," Harry answered, with a smile on his face. Hermione laughed, and Harry knew that her thoughts had gone to the same place his had gone. Ron snapped awake to the sound of their laughter and tried to join in, making Harry and Hermione laugh even harder. Hermione wheezed a little before wiping her eyes and flipping through the pages some more. She landed on one that she liked and turned to Ron.
"Your turn," she said. Ron nodded carefully as she continued. "What does the spell Skurge do?" Ron opened his mouth to answer but quickly shut it again. Harry chuckled. Hermione's eyes skimmed over the description and use of the spelling and started flipping the pages again. Ron rolled his eyes, irritated with the fact that he didn't know the spell. In his defense, Harry didn't know either. Eventually, Ron shrugged and Hermione nodded, closing the book and putting it back.
"Is it a summoning charm for creatures?" Ron asked, seemingly out of any other ideas. Hermione giggled and shook her head.
"It cleans up ectoplasm," she explained. After seeing Ron's confused expression, she said, "You know. The residue left by ghosts?" Ron rolled his eyes.
"I know what ectoplasm is. It's just... Why is there a spell to clean it up?" he asked. Harry laughed at Hermione's expression. To Hermione, almost every spell was important for its own reason. Ron questioning the use of a spell must have been like someone questioning why the sky was blue. Harry opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by someone downstairs.
"Ronald! Harry! Hermione! Come down here! You've all got letters!" Molly shouted up to them. Harry looked back at Hermione and Ron, finding his friends looking back at him. He could tell they were wondering the same thing he was. Why would they have gotten letters? Harry got up and walked out of the room, followed closely by Ron and Hermione. Ginny came out of Fred's room on the second floor and met them on their way down. Harry didn't bother to ask what she was doing in there. It was one of two options: Ginny wanted to be in the room that belonged to Fred, or she had heard George crying and went inside to comfort him. Either way, Ginny looked upset. Ginny split up with the rest of them when they got down to the first floor and walked into her room.
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the kitchen, the first thing Harry did was analyze the room. It had been a while since he had been in the Weasley kitchen, as he was usually too upset to leave the room. There was a large wooden table, just like there always had been, as well as the eight chairs around the table. Doing a quick mental count, Harry counted seven people staying at the house, since Percy, Bill, and Charlie had been out of the house for months, which meant that Molly and Arthur had kept Fred's chair at the table. There was the large clock Harry had seen the first time he had come to the burrow. It had only one hand and instead of numbers, it had things that the family had to do, like 'Time to feed the chickens', or things that the family would need to know, like 'You're late'. On the opposite wall, there was a large fireplace that the family used to transport using the Floo Network. On the mantlepiece, there were stacks of magic recipe books. Molly had organized it so there were only stacks of three. There was a door that led out to the front yard, and another that led out to the back garden.
Molly gestured to some chairs for them to sit down, which they did, throwing glances at each other. Without saying anything, Molly handed each of the three friends their letters. Molly had tears in her eyes, and Harry's letter was already open. Harry reached out and unfolded the letter. Right off the bat, he noticed a fairly familiar handwriting and font. One that he hadn't seen since his eleventh birthday.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF
WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that the remainder of all former seventh-year students that have attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be returning to Hogwarts for an eighth and final year for seventh-year students and those students only. We regret to inform you that the school has not yet been under construction to repair the damage. Since you are considered the best of the best out of the current students at Hogwarts, the professors would appreciate it if you could arrive before September 1st, when the school year will officially start. We appreciate you and everything you have done for our school and our community, and we would understand if you choose not to come. If you choose not to participate in the reconstruction, we will be expecting you to arrive on September 1st for your final year at Hogwarts.
Enclosed, you will find a list of the books you will need for success in your education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most of you should still own the majority of them, but we have enclosed the list nonetheless. We are excited for your arrival back at Hogwarts.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Harry glanced up at Molly, whose face already had streaks of tears staining her cheeks, and then at Ron and Hermione, who had already finished reading their letters. Harry put down his letter. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he was sure that he wouldn't ever return to the school. Harry rested his face in his hands for a moment. He heard someone get up from their chair and place their hand on his back. Harry tried his hardest to keep tears at bay. He had known that the professors hadn't had time to bury the bodies from the war, so when they arrived they would have a funeral. It was going to be hard for all of the former seventh years. Harry took a deep breath and looked up again. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for his response. He might not be the Chosen One anymore, but he was seen as the Boy-Who-Lived, making people look up to him as a leader, but his friends knew better than to think of him like that. They know to think of him as the child who was thrown into a war and into a life that he didn't wish to be involved in. Nevertheless, they waited for his reaction.
"I guess I'm going back to Hogwarts then," he said, brushing his hands through his hair. Hermione's eyes turned to glass as tears started to stream down her cheeks. She knew that they were going to have to bury the dead from the battle, and Harry could see the understanding in her eyes, but she nodded just the same.
"Me too," she whispered. Molly covered her face and squeezed Arthur's hand with her free one as she waited for the inevitable from Ron. He looked up and nodded in agreement.
"If they're going, then we will too," said a voice from the doorway. Harry turned around to see Ginny and George standing in the doorway. Molly walked around and pulled George into a long embrace. Harry stood up and Ginny walked over to him, embracing him as well.
"You don't have to do that, Ginny," Harry said, trying to change her mind. He knew that he wouldn't be able to persuade Ron to stay, but he couldn't bear it if Ron, Ginny, and George all had to bury Fred. It would be heartbreaking for every single one of them, but he didn't think he could handle the look on their faces when they saw him.
"Yes I do," she whispered, stubbornly. Harry couldn't help but smile as he squeezed her a little tighter. After a minute or two, he released her as Molly released George and the five of them walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to pack.