Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Spoils of War
Epilogue - Hero's Rest
Harry woke up.
He had no words for how bitterly disappointed he was about that.
He was warm and comfortable, though, and the room that he was in was one that he didn't recognize. It was beautiful, though, and lit with pale sunlight that made Harry almost feel happy just to look at. He sat up and was surprised to find that he was in no pain, that he felt better than he'd felt in recent memory. He looked down at his hands, but there were no wounds there. Not even scars on the arm where he'd hacked into himself. And, oddly enough, his hands were no longer shaking.
Magic truly was both amazing and terrifying in its capabilities.
Harry slipped from the bed and his bare feet sank into the plush carpeting. He was wearing an oversized white shirt and a pair of white pants that were loose and comfortable. He left the room he was in and found himself standing in a hallway. He turned left and started walking. Eventually he came to a set of stairs and walked down them.
The stairwell opened up into a large living room, furnished in much the same way that the bedroom had been with soft carpeting and comfortable furniture. And on the couch waiting for him were Ron and Hermione, looking as real and solid as they had in life.
Finally, Harry realized. He'd not woken up at all. He'd succeeded.
His eyes widened and he realized that he was crying when they rushed to his side. They were warm and solid and so wonderful as they held him, both of them. "We're here," Hermione was whispering to him, her lips moving against his hair and her breasts pressed against his back.
"We're so sorry you had to go through all of that," Ron murmured, his forehead pressed to Harry's.
"But you were with me the whole time," Harry whispered back. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of them, close, solid and real and warm.
"Harry, mate, we weren't- ow!" There was a thud of something connecting with Ron's flesh, like a slap or a punch.
"Harry," Hermione breathed, and when Harry twisted to look at her there was a faint frown on her face. Then it cleared and she smiled. "We're glad you weren't alone," she said.
Harry relaxed entirely into their hold. "Is it over now?" he asked them, even though they probably didn't know. How would they know if they'd left when he did?
"It's over," an unfamiliar voice confirmed.
Harry pulled away and turned towards the voice. It was a man who looked… a lot like him, actually. Harry's eyes widened in realization. "Y-you're," he breathed. He couldn't finish the sentence.
The man came towards him. "Hello Harry," he said quietly. "Your mother and I are so very proud of you." He reached out to touch Harry's shoulder but didn't seem surprised when Harry flinched away before he could help himself. "It's okay," he said. "You've been through a lot. We have plenty of time here."
"Is…" Harry stopped and took a deep breath, leaning further into Ron's and Hermione's arms. "Is everyone here?"
James Potter's lips quirked into a smile. "Everyone," he said quietly. "Your mother, Padfoot, Moony, the Weasleys. We all stuck around to wait for you."
"It took me so long," Harry said, and he couldn't stop the tears that started to fall once more.
"That's okay," Hermione said quickly. "We didn't mind waiting."
"We'll wait as long as you want us to," Ron said. "We were cheated out of our lives with you, you know. This is a chance for all of us to have what we've missed."
"Everyone's waiting outside for you," James said, but gently. "We didn't want to overwhelm you, so I was nominated to come see if you wanted to see everyone."
"Nominated?" Hermione asked, the skepticism thick in her voice.
"You probably had a full-on duel with Padfoot over it," Ron said with a soft laugh.
"Well, it isn't like I could kill him again or anything," James said with a shrug.
Harry hesitated, then reached out and took his father's hand. "I'd like to try going outside," he said. His father's hand was heavy and warm in his own. Harry was glad to be able to take it without flinching.
Ron's arm went around his shoulder and Hermione lead the way for the three of them. "Don't all mob him at once, now," she called to the group outside.
Harry stepped through the doors and into the light, feeling lighter than he had in a very long time. He'd earned this peace, and he was determined to enjoy it.