Chapter 4: Post-Mortem (I)
June 1998
The decompression in the days following the end of Second War for Harry, Hermione, and Ron was extraordinarily intense. Harry's comment about "enough trouble for a lifetime" as he left the Head's office on the day of Voldemort's defeat was more true than even he knew at that very moment; it wasn't until things had quieted down somewhat around the partially destroyed castle that he and his two closest friends had time to reflect on their lives these past years.
With Voldemort's forces in disarray or on the run, it was the first time in several years-or, in Harry's case, since he had been introduced to the Wizarding World almost seven years before-they did not have the specter of Voldemort hanging over their heads. This meant they could properly attend to their own lives and what personal matters they had put on hold, but, as they quickly realized, that would take some time. The three of them, as well as their surviving friends who had also fought in the war, had to deal with the after-effects of a full year on the run or under the tyranny of Death Eaters. To say that they all had some latent post-traumatic stress would be entirely correct, though the symptoms took a few days to manifest.
The day of Voldemort's defeat and the following two days were filled with some perfunctory cleanup efforts at Hogwarts, the news of the end of the war spreading like wildfire, and the preparation of services for all those that had died at the final battle. Plans had already been set in motion to honor the dead with a war memorial somewhere on the grounds of Hogwarts, but now was the time for more personal remembrances. The third day after Voldemort's defeat was filled with those ceremonies, including one for Remus and Tonks, which took place as the light faded from very late evening. It was a somber group of young veterans that walked from Hogwarts down to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks in the cooling night air.
"Three firewhiskeys," Harry ordered, as he, Ron, and Hermione settled in at the bar. Some of their other friends were here as well, like Neville Longbottom, but they were all either keeping to themselves or in their own little groups.
Hermione eyed her drink for a moment before shrugging and topping the shot like Harry and Ron already had. Her face turned a bit red but otherwise she handled it like a professional.
"Three more," she signaled with a slightly raspy voice.
"You know, everyone else on our side in the world right now is still celebrating," Harry said, softly, looking toward the night-darkened window near the door. However, he most likely couldn't see quite that far, since he had taken off his glasses and laid them down on the bar. Angry red depressions where they rested on the bridge of his noise stood out like beacons in the light of the pub. He looked old and tired.
"Yet, somehow, I don't feel much like celebrating," Ron said, already moving onto his third firewhiskey. The three of them had had very little time to themselves since Harry had killed Riddle, with everything else going on, so this was almost the first time they were able to just sit and talk amongst themselves. Fred's service had been first thing that morning. George was inconsolable and no one had seen him since the end of the funeral.
Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. Harry just watched this silently.
And then the silence stretched on. And on and on. They buried themselves in their drinks rather than talking, which was unusual for the three of them. They always had something to talk about, even if it was entirely mundane. But so much had happened in such a short time (and over their entire friendship, really), that they preferred their own thoughts and the alcohol to talking at the moment.
Finally, after probably thirty minutes, Hermione sighed. She was only on her fourth firewhiskey. Harry and Ron were both approaching ten.
"I think I'm going to call it a night," she said. Her words slurred together the faintest bit.
Harry and Ron both turned bleary gazes toward her. The stupor of the drink was catching up to them.
"At Hoggarts?" Ron managed.
"Huh?" Hermione intoned.
"Hogwarts," Harry clarified, though he wasn't really any more or less drunk than Ron. "Are you staying at Hogwarts tonight?"
Hermione grimaced. The three of them had been staying with the others in the only wing of the school that was undamaged. It had been a cramped few nights.
"No," she eventually said. Her two best friends in the entire universe stared drunkenly back at her. "I'm just going to Apparate home," she continued. "I'll be back in the morning."
"Good night, Hermione," Harry said, surprisingly clearly. Ron grunted his goodbye.
Hermione left some sickles on the bar for the drinks and made her way to the exit. She caught Neville's eye as she neared the door, and they nodded at each other, but he was deep in conversation with someone she did not recognize. As she opened the door she partially turned back to see that Ron and Harry had not moved and were not talking. They were both just staring into their drinks.
She stepped out into the night and Apparated to her long-empty house with a light clap of displaced air.
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"So last night wasn't one of our finest moments," Hermione said, looking over at her two friends. Harry and Ron were beside her on the beach of the Black Lake in the bright, warm sun of midday. She had returned to Hogwarts that morning to find them both nursing brutal hangovers. She'd huffed and summoned them some hangover potion. They'd smiled sheepishly and thanked her.
"I suppose not," Ron said. "But what I said is true, you know."
"I know," was all she said. She looked to Harry, but he just continued to lie on his back with his eyes closed, soaking up the light. Shortly after she had arrived and provided them with the potion, Harry had mysteriously disappeared for about two hours. Ever since he'd returned he had barely said a word.
"Where did you run off to, Harry?" Hermione asked, settling down as well and staring up at the sky, which was streaked with high-altitude cirrus clouds.
"I had an appointment with Gringotts this morning," Harry said. His voice was flat, which was not unusual, but there was definitely something else in there.
"About what?" Ron asked, beating Hermione to the punch.
Harry was silent for a time after that, prompting both Hermione and Ron to raise their heads and look at him, and then at each other.
"Harry?" Hermione tried.
"About everything," Harry said, and that something in his voice was much closer to the surface. It sounded like sadness, rage, bitterness, horror…
All things everyone had been suppressing for days now in favor of trying to maintain an even keel; and all things that would eventually find their way out, given enough time or impetus.
"What do you mean, mate?" Ron asked. Hermione sensed this conversation was about to head south, and quickly. Ron was just a bit too thick about that type of thing to see it, though.
"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Harry retorted, incredulously. "What could I possibly mean?"
His tone set Ron off. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew, would I?" Ron replied.
"Boys…"
"No, Hermione," Harry cut her off, in an uncharacteristically cold voice. "This will not turn into one of your legendary rows, so no need to worry about that."
That shut her up, and Ron too. Harry usually ignored their arguments in favor of doing something or talking to someone else. All the ribbing they used to get from other students about their incessant arguing just passed Harry by-or so it had seemed.
Harry stood up abruptly, shielding his eyes against the glare on the water. "Look, I'm sorry, but I just have a lot on my mind right now. I've got shite coming in from all sides about what I'm going to do now and how I'm going to support the new Ministry, and all of this other fucking rubbish I could honestly care less about at this point. And on top of all that, I meet with Gringotts and find out I'm in fact one of the richest people in the world and have hereditary seats on the Wizengamot…blah blah blah…" Harry trailed off, running a hand through his untamable black hair.
Hermione and Ron just stared gape-mouthed at him, this being the first time they'd heard about any of this. To them, the days since the end of the war had been filled with some aimless wandering or hanging about with friends and fellow fighters. But apparently Harry, when not with them, had been dealing with his own kind of afterglow; a rather hellish one.
"And of course there's Teddy to think of," he continued, his voice agonized. "I'm his godfather so according to Wizard law he should pass to me…"
"What?" Ron questioned.
"What about Andromeda?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head, still not looking at them. "With both Ted and Tonks passing away, she is in no condition to look after him. And like I said, according to law and to the will of Remus and Tonks, which was just read to me at Gringotts, I am Teddy's legal guardian now."
Ron made some meaningless noises. Hermione was staring up at Harry, the wind having fully been taken out of her sails. This most definitely changed things-mightily changed them. Harry had essentially learned that very morning that he was a surrogate father to his orphaned godson. Somewhere Sirius must have been grinning and crying at the irony of it all.
Harry finally looked at them, albeit oddly. "Haven't you two wondered at all why Ginny hasn't been around for a few days now?"
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, to say something along the lines of having seen her at the funeral for Fred the previous day, but she stopped herself. That was silly. Of course she had been there. All of the Weasleys were.
"Now that you mention it, you're right, why isn't she hanging about you?" Ron asked. He could sound so blasé and insensitive even when he didn't mean to be.
Harry clenched his jaw, turning away from them again. "She couldn't handle it, Ron. Not that I blame her, really. She's only sixteen."
"What?" Ron asked again.
Harry sighed in frustration. Hermione could literally feel his anger and annoyance as his magic began to permeate the air.
"Honestly, Ron! Do I have to fucking spell it out for you? She doesn't want any part of a relationship with me now that Teddy is my responsibility."
Ron was speechless, both at Harry's outburst and the implications of what he had said.
"But she… and you…" Ron clenched his fists. "I'm going to find her and-"
"Don't," Harry said, cutting him off. "Do not involve yourself in this, Ron. It's her choice to make. And she probably made the right one. Who would want a son at sixteen?"
Ron swallowed the rest of his words.
"Who would want one at seventeen?" Hermione asked, softly. Harry had walked a few steps forward so that he was at the very edge of the water.
"That choice is beyond me, Hermione."
"But you could-" Ron started.
"Do what? I'm not about to go against the express wishes of Remus and Tonks. I'm not going to do to Teddy what was done to me." There was a burning fire of determination in his words, away from which Hermione knew Harry would never now be swayed. And although she was appalled at Remus and Tonks for saddling Harry with such responsibility, she knew that Harry would do everything in his considerable power to care for Teddy.
"Well…" Ron started, hesitantly. "We'll be there for you, Harry. Hermione and I will be there for you. Won't we?" he asked, looking at her. She nodded once, never taking her eyes of Harry.
Harry finally turned back toward the other two and nodded. "Thank you," he said. He began to walk toward the castle.
"Harry?" Ron questioned. Their black-haired compatriot stopped and looked back over his shoulder at them. "What was that you said about being one of the richest people in the world?"
Hermione winced internally. Harry just looked a Ron for a long moment. Finally shaking his head, he turned away from them and continued on his journey back toward the castle.
When Ron looked to Hermione, she shook her head as well.
"What?"
"Probably not the best time for that question."
"Well bugger me! When has tact ever been one of my best traits?" Ron asked, rhetorically.
"Exactly, Ron."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, wanting to avoid another argument just then. "Just shut up, will
you?"
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