Part Seven

—Harry Potter—

It was a small, dark space but it was familiar in a far away kind of way. Perhaps he'd been here a long time ago.

It felt like he was waiting for something or someone and the longer he sat there in that small dark space the more restless Harry became. He could see a door in front of him, a wooden door with a small metal grate in it. There was a weak, yellow light stretching through the thin slits in the grate. There was no handle, and he couldn't push it open.

Harry began to knock on the door, to bang on it, and when no one came he tried to call out only to find that this voice wouldn't work. He pounded harder on the door, his throat straining in a yell but no sound emerging. And then, with a particularly vicious pound of his fist the door swung open soundlessly and he tumbled out onto the carpet of a small hallway.

Looking around Harry instantly recognized the pristine interior of the Dursley household. Framed photos of his relatives lined the walls in front of him and behind him was the cupboard under the stairs. Harry frowned at the small dusty interior of the cupboard and then stood feeling distinctly shorter than he ought to.

Harry made his way to the kitchen at the end of the hall and cautiously pushed open the door, peering inside as though waiting for a rabid animal to attack him from the other side. But the only living things behind the door were Uncle Vernon and Dudley at the breakfast table and Aunt Petunia washing dishes in the sink. Harry took a few tentative steps into the kitchen and waited for someone to address him.

Aunt Petunia turned as he entered and scowled at him. She strode over and looked down at him with her fists on her hips. Harry didn't remember her being so tall. She towered over him.

"Finally up are you?" she snarled at him. "I've been making breakfast myself."

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said quietly. "I didn't know you were waiting on me."

Aunt Petunia sniffed and strode back to the sink. "Of course we've been waiting on you. I woke you up twenty minutes ago. And on Dudley's birthday! Have you wished your cousin a happy birthday?"

Harry caught a grimace and mumbled, "Happy birthday, Dudley."

Dudley smirked from the table where he was shoving bacon into his mouth. He had his Smeltings uniform on, every part of it including his ridiculous hat. Uncle Vernon hadn't peered out from behind the newspaper he was reading, which was fine with Harry as he was not particularly in the mood to be criticized.

As Harry poured himself a glass of juice and sat down a click and a rustle of paper sounded from the front door.

"Mail's here, darling," Aunt Petunia told her husband, suddenly all smiles and cheerful as she placed another serving of breakfast ham on his plate.

"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said.

"Make Harry get it," Dudley whined in return.

"Get the mail Harry."

Harry was going to retort but decided against it and got up from his seat to go fetch the mail. He took his time as he left the kitchen and walked down the hall to the front door. He picked up the pile of mail and began to rifle through the small stack of letters.

A postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister and a bill were the most interesting items until Harry reached the bottom of the stack. Neatly written out on a thick envelope Harry stared at his own name in shimmering green ink.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4, Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harry felt as though his heart was leaping into his chest. He quickly carried the mail back to the kitchen, dropped most of it in front of Uncle Vernon and then began to open his first ever piece of post.

There was a wax seal on the back that Harry easily broke through and then lifted the thick paper from the inside.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…

But that was as far as Harry got before his aunt interrupted.

"Oh look, Vernon, Harry's gotten a letter."

Harry looked up at her and clutched the letter tightly in his hands lest anyone try to take it from him.

Uncle Vernon looked up from his newspaper, took on look at Harry's letter and said, "Oh yes, dear, another one of those prank mailings. I suspect it has something to do with aliens this time."

Harry blinked and looked down at the letter again. A prank? He didn't understand.

Aunt Petunia walked around to read the letter over Harry's shoulder. "Magic this time," she said calmly. "What will they think of next?"

Harry looked up at her, some sort of strange desperation rising up in him. "It's not real?" he whispered hoarsely, irrationally distraught.

"Of course it's not real," Aunt Petunia snapped at him. "There's no such thing as magic."

"But I got a letter," Harry protested. "Why would they send a letter?"

"It's a joke," Aunt Petunia responded sharply. "A joke they play on stupid little boys like you. As if something like magic were real."

Hearing Aunt Petunia say those words cut at Harry like knives and he didn't know why. Why couldn't magic exist? Why couldn't this be real? This had to be real. It had to. Harry stood to his full height but his aunt was still much taller, almost unnaturally so.

"It is real!" Harry shouted at her. "It IS real!"

Aunt Petunia merely smiled cruelly at him, her face twisting like wet clay.

Harry clenched his fist around the letter in his hand.

"There's no such thing as magic," Aunt Petunia said. "There's no such thing as magic." Her face looked less and less human as Harry watched her stand and repeat those words. He blinked and Dudley and Uncle Vernon were standing next to her, all of them looking too tall, too much like monsters to be real.

"There's no such thing as magic," they said, over and over again. "There's no such thing as magic."

"Yes there is!" Harry shouted at them, something inside him so disturbed by their words, their lies that he wanted to smash things, to cry, to yell out. "Magic IS real! IT IS REAL! IT IS REAL!"

Everything was getting darker, and the things before him were getting louder and he was getting louder in return.

"There's no such thing as magic."

"IT IS REAL!"

They were walking closer to him and Harry couldn't move his feet. He was shouting at the top of his lungs but he couldn't move, could only watch as the beasts that used to be his relatives closed around him.

And then Harry woke up.

For a few moments, Harry stayed very still, his eyes unfocused, his breathing rapid. And as he lie there the dream began to leave him and his surroundings slowly began to make sense.

He instinctively reached to the nightstand beside him for his glasses, slipped them on, and then didn't move for a few more minutes.

"Magic is real," he whispered to himself as he stared at the red hangings of the four poster bed. This was the first thing he knew to be true. He was in Gryffindor Tower. He was at Hogwarts, and Hogwarts did exist. And he was a wizard, like his parents had been before him.

It was all coming to him slowly, as if he were dredging these simple facts out of very thick mud. He sat up slowly, his body aching and protesting and looked at the room before him, a very familiar room. A few emotions came to him very quickly. A feeling of being home after a long time away, a lonely feeling at finding the room empty, and a feeling of loss that he was not able to place.

Harry tried to remember how he had gotten here, what he had been doing before, tried to remember anything, but nothing was coming to him.

Start at the beginning, he told himself.

He was in Gryffindor Tower, in the boys' dorm where he had spent his time at Hogwarts. He looked at each bed in turn. That one is Ron's, he reminded himself. And that one is Dean's, and then Seamus's and then Neville's.

Yes, that was right. He knew those beds, knew those people.

He looked down at himself and found himself wearing ripped, bloody jeans and shirt that had seen much better days. He was bruised, bleeding, and sore. His chest was particularly painful.

What have you gotten yourself into this time? He pondered.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and noticed that not only was it extremely filthy, it was also very long, the longest it had ever been. He frowned in confusion.

As Harry took a long, deep breath, sharp pain shot through this chest and he gasped. Lifting his shirt Harry peered down to find a surprising sight. Near the center of his chest was an oval shaped scar and right next to that was a very large, ugly purple bruise, as though someone had tried to squeeze the life out of him. Harry winced looking at the damage inflicted on his body. He stared at the scar in confusion for a few seconds and then memory flashed in his mind.

A giant snake striking out at him, Hermione shouting, jumping from a window, a locket.

A horcrux.

Horcruxes. The Deathly Hallows.

The battle….

In an instant everything flooded back to Harry and he felt himself falling. He blinked and he was on the floor next to the bed, images racing in front of his eyes, voices, screams, pain shot through his body. Harry curled up, tried to block the stream of images assaulting him but he couldn't. He suddenly remembered, remembered everything.

He could see Fred toppled by a collapsing castle wall, he could see Remus and Tonks lying side by side on the floor of the Great Hall. He could see his parents and Sirius and Remus standing before him, he could see Colin's body, he could see Voldemort, he could see Snape's mangled body, he could hear Hagrid sobbing, he could hear Ron and Hermione and Ginny calling out his name. He could see Sirius falling through the veil and he could see Cedric's prone form on the ground and he could see Dumbledore's body tumble from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Harry tried to curl further in on himself. He didn't notice the hard wooden floor beneath him or the tears streaming down his cheeks. He could not hear himself gasping for breath, he could only hear screams.

That was how Ron and Hermione found him.

Harry didn't know how long he was on the floor before two sets of arms were hauling him up onto the bed again.

He could feel their arms around him, and he could hear their voices, but he couldn't make out their words and he couldn't open his eyes. For a long time, Harry couldn't bring himself to look at his best friends, but an unconscious part of him was glad they were there. Their presence was infinitely comforting.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry opened his eyes and saw Ron and Hermione on either side of him, alive and well, and with him. And Harry knew when he saw them that he had never needed them more. Through all the seven years Harry had known his best friends, through all of their adventures and trials and battles, Harry had never been more thankful to have them at his side.

In the rush of the past twenty-four hours, Harry felt unsure of what to do now. "Is it over?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Ron nodded and Hermione said, "Yes, Harry. It's over. You don't have to do anything right now, okay?"

Harry nodded and looked at his knees, suddenly very self-conscious that he had just cried in front of them. He was still on the verge of breaking down, he knew it, but he didn't want them to see him like that again.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"About a day," Ron answered. "Most of the commotion down there has settled."

Harry nodded but could think of nothing further to say so he remained silent. He waited for someone else to speak, but for a long time the three of them simply sat there on the four poster bed in companionable silence.

Finally, Hermione said, "You should really see Madame Pomfrey, Harry."

Harry grimaced without thinking about it.

"I know you hate the hospital wing, but you need medical attention," she urged.

Harry turned to Ron for support but he was nodding in agreement with Hermione. "Hate to say it, but she's right again. You really do look beat."

Harry sighed, too tired and sore to argue and decided that it probably wasn't the worst idea in the world. "Yeah, okay," he said. "But not right now."

The longer Harry sat there, the more difficult it became to think of leaving the comfort and safety of Gryffindor Tower and venturing back into the great wide world of Hogwarts. The idea of seeing anyone other than Ron or Hermione right now made him slightly nauseous and he was beginning to dread the congratulatory welcome he was sure he would receive from numerous people he had never met.

He thought of Ginny and couldn't keep a small smile from his face, but knowing that she was likely surrounded by numerous friends and family took away some of the appeal of seeing her again. The only people he wanted to see right now were already with him, just as they had been with him for seven years.

Harry looked around at the boys' dorm and felt as though it was his sanctuary from the outside world. And he looked at Ron and Hermione and felt a great surge of affection towards them.

"Thank you," he whispered to them.

Hermione beamed at him. Ron snorted, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

"All that and we get a lousy thank you?" Ron scoffed jokingly. "Remind me of that next time I want to come along on an adventure."

Hermione scowled at him but Harry smiled, if only briefly.

"No more adventures," he vowed seriously. "I'm done. Retired. Out of the game."

Ron and Hermione looked at him, Ron somewhat skeptically and Hermione with a reassuring smile.

"But really," Harry said again, "thank you."

Hermione grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're welcome. Harry, we're so proud of you."

Harry looked up at her and suddenly felt a stinging behind his eyes. Hearing those words effected him more than he ever thought they would.

"Yeah, we are," Ron affirmed and Harry's spirits buoyed even more.

"And we're still always here for you," Hermione said.

"I know."

And Harry knew that he would need them again. He would need them by his side when he decided to finally leave Gryffindor Tower. He would need them when he worked up the courage to enter the Great Hall again. He would need Ron and Hermione for life. And he knew, without any doubt, that they would be there by his side and he would be by theirs, always.

AN--Well, here you have it, the longest and final chapter- Harry's. I figure after everyone else got their say in, he should get his too.

Please let me know what you think. I would really appreciate you taking the time to leave a review.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.