Harry Potter and the Year After Voldemort

Harry, Ron, and Hermione have defeated the Dark Lord and now return to Hogwarts in order to finish their education and heal from the war. Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. Harry Potter etc belong to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Chapter 1: A Meeting with the Minister

"Now, Harry m'boy, I just don't know if this is such a good idea."

Arthur Weasley stood, half sitting, on the front of a rich mahogany desk. He was thinner than he had once been and his emerald robes were dusty as ever. In fact, Harry Potter could not remember a time when Mr. Weasley's robes did not look dusty, even when they had been in the top box at the Quidditch Word Cup. The top of Mr. Weasley's head was nearly entirely bald, Harry noticed, as the older man ran a hand through his ever-thinning fiery hair.

"Please, Mr. Weasley. I understand your thoughts, but I just feel like it would be a good idea, you know? You've got to think about the future! This would be a great opportunity – possibly the only opportunity left – to do this, and there are lots of benefits." Harry said, one again trying to reason with the aging man in his tattered, dusty secondhand robes.

After Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, a great change-about had occurred in the Ministry of Magic. And by some strange luck, Arthur Weasley had become Minister of Magic. It was not as far fetched as it seemed, however. After loosing two of his sons, Percy and Charlie, in the war and nearly loosing his own life and that of his wife, he had become a harder man. Once carefree and almost bouncy, Arthur Weasley seemed to have been weighted down by the problems of the wizarding world; he was quite steely and had a quick mind for dealing with the political people who got in the way as well as ordering wizards in combat. He was a hero of the short but costly war. Molly Weasley knew that he had taken the job for many reasons, the foremost being that he did not want to trust it to anyone else; so much was at stake in these fragile times.

Sitting comfortably in a chintz armchair next to Harry Potter was Minerva McGonagall, a tall elderly lady whose lengthy silver hair was in a tight bun that rested below the rim of her crisp, black, pointed wizard's hat. She was now the headmistress of Hogwarts and also disagreed with what Harry had to say at this particular time and place. Harry pleaded to her though he knew Mr. Weasley was the one who would give in. Her opinion would just matter more in the long run.

"I know you both won't always be around to protect me, and I want the full training Hogwarts can give me as well as a certificate of graduation so there will never be any questions. Also, we all want to go back to school for another year so we can relax and be in a familiar environment... to heal." Harry added this last part with an almost desperate tone.

His bright green eyes searched their faces for any sign of giving into his cause.

"I see your point as far as educational purposes, though you know Headmistress McGonagall could grant you a certificate without anyone ever questioning anything, of course," Mr. Weasley said, in a matter-of-factly way, standing up and beginning to pace the room, his hands clasped behind his back and his head bent low in thought, "I say, fine."

Harry felt a small twinge of victory and gave a grateful nod to Arthur. McGonagall was next. Her scrutinizing gaze peered mercilessly over his spectacles.

"If it is what you all truly want, I will grant it." Harry smiled and stood up to shake Mr. Weasley's hand.

"I suppose Neville Longbottom will accompany you, for he missed a great portion of last year?" She questioned, placing the tips of her fingers together in an Albus Dumbledore kind of way. Harry noticed the habbit she had picked up from his former headmaster and felt a wave of deep sadness.

Forcing himself to stay in the present and focus, he said slowly, shrugging one shoulder. "Well, if you wouldn't mind…" He smiled in spite of himself. Neville always struggled in school, and a second round with the same material would probably make him wet himself.

Harry instantly reprimanded himself for the thought of Neville dancing around like a little kid, not to mention with his trousers wet in the front. Neville was not horrible at school – maybe not great, but he did have his talents. He was much more a man now than he ever had been before the war, though he was still just plain old Neville on the inside, thankfully.

This positive thinking reminded Harry of something Hermione would say quietly to him to reassure him. He missed those nights, where they would all just sit in the common room by the fire, maybe sipping something warm. Harry missed the days where he was carefree. But most of all, Harry missed his friends. Sure, he saw Ron often enough, but he missed Hermione and couldn't wait to tell her that their proposal had been approved. He wanted to rush to tell them, and he had a great urge to go back to bed and curl up and sleep for a few hours. He shook McGonagall's hand gently.

"Mr. Potter?" She said sternly, and Harry froze.

"Potter, you know you will be even more famous then before, and your friends as well. I think it best you have your own dorms so you can stay detached from the rest of the school. I do want you to influence the students a little, but for your own sanity, I think seclusion would be best."

She folded her hands gracefully in her lap, a smile coming to her face. "You will be very proud of how the school behaves at the given time."

Harry smiled. McGonagall really had read his heart's desire for comfort and healing, and had said something that brought him immeasurable happiness. It was as if Dumbledore's dream had come true… just only after his death.

"Just one thing, Professor." Harry said, and the Headmistress looked up expectantly, "Can it, I mean the dorm, look like the Gryffindor common room, please?"

An unreadable pause followed.

"Yes, Potter, I believe it can."

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Several hundreds of miles away a girl with bushy brown hair sat up straight in bed. Her eyes were still foggy from sleep but they were open wide and her mouth too. She panted for a second and then looked around shakily. After a second her dream which had flung her out of her sleep caught up with her. And intense feeling of fear, depression, and sadness washed over her like a tidal wave. Brown eyes welling up with unshed tears, Hermione Granger turned and buried her face into one of her pillows. A great, deep sob came out of her as tears soaked the pillow. After a minute or two of these sobs overcoming her, she calmed. In silence she listened for any sound that meant she had woken her parents up. No sound came.

With another bout of tears threatening to overcome her, Hermione crawled out of bed and went into their small den and library room. She felt delicately along the book case and found her favorite fairy tale from her childhood and started to read, leaving the wizarding world and all its horrors behind. Sinking back into an armchair, she lost herself in lands filled with romance and bravery.

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Feeling satisfied with himself and the day, Harry Potter apparated back to the Burrow. He brushed his robes off before looking around. A plump woman with short red hair was sitting in an armchair. She had a book in one hand and one hand holding her wand as the knitting continued on in front of her. Her eyes were narrowed over her spectacles.

"If you didn't have your clock, you would have hexed me into next week, wouldn't you've?" Harry grinned and glanced up at the clock behind him on the wall. He didn't know when his name had been added on a hand, but now his hand was pointing to "Home."

"Harry, you don't have a license to apparate." Mrs. Weasley was frowning, though he could tell she was pleased to see him. She was only home a few days a week with all the need for able, experienced people.

"Oh, I didn't know that the Ministry kept track of things like that anymore, besides I'm of age, I just haven't taken the test yet."

"Harry Potter, you saved the Ministry and all of us, I would think you would have a little more appreciation for it. And speaking of the Ministry..." Her stern voice was melting. She cared deeply for Harry and Hermione, as much as for her own children, Ron and Ginny etc. She was very supportive of their return to Hogwarts.

"He approved it." Harry said quietly, savoring the victory. This was what victory was supposed to feel like. Not the emptiness becoming a murderer and the weigh of a hundred deaths upon you, crushing.

Mrs. Weasley set her knitting aside and stood up, hugging him. "Well, I suppose you will want to go spread the news. And please tell Ginny that I would love her help in the kitchen." Harry nodded and waited until she left the room to turn towards the wooden stairs.

A head with long, wet, red hair was leaning around the edge of the staircase, her light brown eyes bright. Harry laughed, quietly, and motioned for her to come down. She slipped down the last few steps and stood up straight to meet his eyes. She had to tilt her chin up quite a lot.

"Ginevra Weasley, I am so glad you came down the stairs to meet me. Last time we snogged on the stairs we ended up falling down them." He whispered. Ginny smiled but did not laugh, her eyes just glittered mischievously.

"That was when my mother was not home. So, for decency's sake, come on." With that she took his hand and pulled him up the staircase. He raced up after her and slowed and stopped in the landing.She looked into his eyes. "Well?"

"Your dad and McGonagall are letting us three, well, four, come back to Hogwarts."

"Four?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Oh... Well that makes sense." She breathed. He smiled and kissed her hand. "You know Harry, I am really happy you are coming back to Hogwarts for my seventh year. Our seventh year." Then she kissed him and he too was glad he was coming back to Hogwarts for another year. He didn't know if he could handle that much time away from Ginny.

They broke apart long enough for Harry to tell her that they would have their own separate dorm.

"Oh, separate dorms? That will save us being badgered by younger students." Another voice interrupted their intimate moment. Harry didn't have to turn but Ginny's head whipped around to focus an intensely angry glare at her brother, Ron Weasley. "Particularly redheads who like to snog famous chaps."

"Ronald!" She let go of Harry and turned, whipping out to smack her brother's arm. He jerked away but looked a little startled. Ginny pulled out her wand, obviously not afraid of her brother who towered over her. "I want you to take that back. Besides, I am sure you will be too busy with other girls who like famous boys to notice my presence." Her tone changed and she was teasing him, a little maliciously. Her teasing was covering up for her over-reaction. Times had been straining and Ginny had been spending most of her time working with orphan children and volunteering at St. Mungo's.

Ron blushed and sarcastically retorted, "Yah, I'm sure that'll be the case."

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand to keep her from saying anything else to shred her brother further. "Your mum wanted your help in the kitchen."

"Oh, I hope you're lying." Ginny whispered. Ron turned away sulkily as Ginny and Harry embraced before she spun around and took off down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, mate." Harry looked up and over at Ron. Normally he would not have been hurt in the slightest by Ginny, but after all that had happened he was always moody and sensitive. It also didn't help that Hermione was not around and he missed her desperately. Harry knew Ron liked Hermione, but anything between them had ended six months ago and after the war Hermione decided to stay with her parents for an indefinite time. Realizing the connection to Hermione, he gave a little start. She still didn't know and it was a week before term started. He started to smile but stopped himself. "Ron, you want to write Hermione and tell her about us going back to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah." Ron said as he closed the door to his blazing orange room.

That evening for dinner they had chicken and ham pie and mashed potatoes and carrots from the garden. Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had talked to some family members because just after Ron and Harry had cleared away all the plates, Bill and Fleur arrived in the living room with a loud crack.

They had both fought gallantly when Harry let them in battle against the death eaters. Fleur's hair was cut just above her shoulders and she didn't look like the beauty she had during the triwizard tournament. Yet she and Bill were obviously in love and Bill did not let go of her hand until after they were seated. Seeing the happy newlyweds, Ginny turned to gaze at Harry for a second, but quickly she jerked away, slightly out of embarrassment and slightly out of shock at something she had just realized she had seen. "Fleur?" She asked, surprised.

Fleur's face was flushed and she reached out and took her mother-in-law's hand. "Yes." She said in her throaty French accent.

Bill took over. "I am so happy to announce that we are going to have a baby!"

Ginny and Ron's jaws both dropped open and Mrs. Weasley exploded into high pitched happy noises which ended only when she started sobbing "I'm going to be a grandmother!"

Bill grinned and kissed Fleur who continued to blush darker. "I'm going to be a father." He breathed out, his tone showing he had not quite gotten use to that idea yet. Then he stood up and hugged his mother who had started to really cry.

Once Mrs. Weasley subsided, Harry grinned and shook Bill's hand. "Congratulations!" A still stunned Ron echoed Harry. Ginny felt the need to run around and hug Fleur, gently. They started talked quietly, but Bill drew their conversation out for the whole table to hear.

"It's a boy, of course. We hardly needed the healer to tell us that." Bill conceded.

"Arthur William Weasley. Doesn't it sound lovely? Arthur after his grandfather,"

Molly interrupted Fleur suddenly with another high pitched squeal, "Isn't that just the sweetest thing ever!" Fleur patted her hand and continued.

"And William after his father." She was smiling so wide that every one of her perfect teeth was showing.

Molly managed to choke out, "Yes, my dear. I am so very happy for you!"

Ginny went and made hot chocolate, and they talked about Bill's budding career and their plans for buying a house in a nearby village. Fleur had quit her job and was busy knitting soft baby clothes and painting – as past-time no one else at the table had been aware she kept.

"Oh, yes. I find that capturing beauty and emotion on canvas is a worthy way to spent several hours."

Bill kissed his wife's cheek. "She paints beautifully, always soft colors and lines and beautiful portraits and landscapes." She turned to Ginny and smiled as sweetly as she could. "Ginny dear, would you be willing to sit for me sometime this week, before you go off to Hogwarts again?"

Ginny didn't seem sure what to say, but after a second she spluttered out a reply. "Well, sure. Whenever you like."

"Lovely, lets say... Thursday?"

After their hot chocolate was drunk, or had cooled in Bill's case (because he did not like chocolate anymore,) Bill and Fleur said it was time to go and had goodbyes with everyone before apparating back to their flat in London.

Before everyone headed upstairs, Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry side. "Harry, dear, Arthur would like a word with you. He should be in within the hour."

"Yeah, no problem. What about, though?"

"Now, that's a good dear." She seemed distracted and Harry had the feeling that it was at her request that they talk. "Nothing, really. Arthur will explain. He owled me right after you left his office this morning."

Harry waited in their living room, feeling like twiddling his thumbs. Molly had washed all the dishes and then gone to check up on Ron and Ginny. Just as she was coming back down the stairs, Mr. Weasley came in through the kitchen door.

"Arthur, dear. Here's Harry. Don't be long, it's getting late." With that, she was gone.

Mr. Weasley sat down in the chair next to Harry's and folded his hands, elbows on his knees. "Well, Harry, I suppose you want to know why I asked to speak with you."

"Yes, sir." Harry said shortly and before waiting for what felt like two or three minutes.

"Molly tells me that you and Ginny have been seeing each other."

This was the last thing that Harry expected. He knew that it would have been only a matter of time until her parents noticed. They had decided that since they were not really "dating" they could keep it quiet. He breathed out slowly, a sense of relief but also a new sense of worry flooding him.

Mr. Weasley turned and looked Harry in the eyes. "I want you to take note that she is our only daughter and your current relationship with her is not acceptable to us. If you would like to date her formally, you may ask me before you leave for school. And, if you date her, it will be leading towards an engagement and marriage. We will have nothing less for our Ginny."

This seriousness out of Mr. Weasley stunned Harry for a second. But he knew he must react quickly. Gathering himself, he started to nod. "Of course, Mr. Weasley. I am very sorry for not asking you. What is between Ginny and I is informal, but I do love her, very much." Mr. Weasley looked very relieved.

"Molly will love to hear that you said that. Oh, and you have my full permission to date Ginny." He stood up and Harry followed suit. "Oh, my. I really am loosing my head. McGonagall asked me to disclose a few things to you that you may share with Ron, Hermione, and Neville." He sat back down and pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his pocket.

"Let's see. Ah yes. You will have your own smaller dorm, a small room for Hermione and one big room for the boys. You will take all your N.E.W.T classes and exams at the end of the year. Your letters will be coming tomorrow." He paused and made a side note, "McGonagall is having to modify several spells to let you back in, you know." He glanced up at Harry before continuing on. "You, Harry, and Ron too, will not be allowed to play Quidditch, but you can coach the team... I think that's it." He smiled and patted Harry's arm.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Harry was a little put off at not being able to play Quidditch, but instead he could devote his time to coaching the team and to his studies. Mr. Weasley stood and wished Harry a goodnight. Harry noticed sadly how Mr. Weasley was moving a little slower these days. After the red-haired Minister of Magic had cleared the stairs, Harry crept up the narrow staircase to Percy's old room where he promptly fell into a heavy dreamless sleep.