Chapter 1: Smoke and Flame

The sun was just clearing the mountains in the distance, its warm red glow seeping down the mountain side, along the streets of Hogsmede, up between the gates flanked by two winged boars, and across the great black lake coming to settle at the feet of 3 particularly grimy looking teenagers. It was a beautiful morning; the best one Harry reckoned he'd seen in a long time. Gazing across the shimmering waters of the lake he couldn't help but to finally feel at peace with the world. This morning he would not have to hastily pack up camp while looking over his shoulder. This morning he would not feel the prickling in his scar and dread what he was about to learn. This morning he would not have to fear for his friends and wonder what would happen to them today. No, this morning was different. It was the dawning of a new day; the dawning of a new life.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ron was staring out over the lake to the mountains in the hazy distance, his arm draped around Hermione. She smiled and sighed happily and snuggled closer into his side. Harry continued to gaze into the distance, a contented smile upon his face.

"Brilliant" muttered Harry. Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand smiling. He smiled back and glanced around at a flock of birds that fluttered around a willow by the shore before flying out, skimming the surface of the lake and vanishing into the horizon. "I just didn't think I'd ever see one of these again." Ron and Hermione sat up and looked at their best friend, who was gazing sadly after the birds.

"Yeah, about that mate, why in the name of Merlin's pants would you go storming off to Him like that?"

"Ron," Hermione said admonishingly.

"What? He just up and decides to scamper off to face You-Know-Who, and doesn't even bother to tell us? I mean you could've died Harry!" Ron's face was growing slightly red. Harry sighed and turned to his friends, deciding that it was time to tell them everything that had happened since they left the shrieking shack the previous night.

"But I did die Ron." Ron's mouth dropped open and Hermione let out a gasp before covering her mouth. "When I went to the forest last night, Voldemort killed me. But, well it's hard to explain." He glanced apologetically at his friends.

"Well you bloody well try. You can't just come out with 'oh yeah, by the way guys, I died and came back to life last night'" Ron was looking very confused, not comprehending any of it at all.

"Well, alright. But it's a long story."

"Well," Hermione said with a small smile, "we've got all the time in the world."

It was well past lunch time when the trio stood up and stretched their legs at the side of the lake. It had been a lot to talk about. Harry had shared everything he'd learned in the Pensive, all the way up to what had happened when he faced Voldemort in the final battle. Afterwards Ron and Hermione had shared their side of the story, what had happened when the hour was up and no one could find Harry. No one assumed he had deserted the defenders, but some couldn't help thinking that he'd done a runner.

"I still can't believe it," said Ron, absentmindedly kicking a rock into the lake as they turned to walk up to the castle. "I can't believe that Snape was good this whole time, the greasy git. It makes me feel bad about making all those jokes about him after potions." Harry gave him a sidelong look. "Well alright," Ron said relenting, "maybe not all the jokes." Harry just chuckled as they walked.

It was slightly depressing to see the amount of damage that the castle had sustained during the battle. The front lawn was gouged and torn up from giants and spells. The whomping willow was swaying sadly, several branches broken and twitching. There was still a smell of burning in the air, even though the fires had been put out. The greenhouses had several smashed windows. Great chunks of stone were missing from the walls. Many winged gargoyles lay splintered and broken on the lawn. Harry knew that inside the castle it could only be worse. As he walked his fingers strayed absentmindedly to his pocket and he delicately felt his beloved phoenix wand. He was glad that he had it back. It was like a lost friend who'd finally come home. Ron couldn't believe that Harry was just going to give up the Elder wand. He couldn't see why Harry wouldn't want to keep that power. But, Harry thought, what would I need with a wand that powerful? Who is there to fight? The war is finally over.

As they approached the front doors Harry could see pairs of people carrying large bundles out and piling them up on the front lawn. He had no idea what they could be doing. As they walked closer however, it became apparent what was happening. The defenders were carrying out the bodies of death eaters and piling them out on the front lawn. As they approached the doors they saw Seamus and Dean carrying out Bellatrix. Hermione hurriedly looked away, but Harry and Ron stared grimly at one of their fiercest enemies. As they waited for them to pass, Kingsley walked out the front door, pointing his wand behind him. Floating in midair behind him came the body of Voldemort. Harry knew he was dead, knew he was gone for good, but he couldn't repress the slight fear and trepidation that overcame him at the sight of Voldemort. Harry forced himself to look at the crumpled body of the person in the world that he had most hated. Voldemort looked weak in death. His body was fragile and broken, not nearly as menacing as he had been in life. Kingsley directed his body to the top of the fairly large pile. At the bottom Harry saw one large giant and several black hairy spiders.

"That's the last of them Kingsley," said a tired voice coming from the hall. Arthur Weasley stepped out of the castle. Kingsley nodded his acknowledgement and turned to the pile.

"Incendio." As Kingsley lowered his wand the flames started licking up the side of the pile. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione's face go white and Ron hurriedly ushered her inside, away from the sight of the burning bodies. Kingsley and Arthur walked over to stand next to Harry, who continued to gaze at the body of Voldemort, where the flames were just starting to reach him at the top of the pile. "We thought that burning the bodies would be best Harry, I hope you're not upset." Kingsley laid a hand firmly on Harry's shoulder.

"No, no, it's fine. The bodies needed to be delt with. I didn't even think of that. I'm sorry Kingsley. Is there anything else I can do?" Harry looked up into Kingsley's face suddenly feeling a pang of guilt for spending all morning down at the beach when there was clearly so much work to be done. Kingsley chuckled.

"I think you've done enough Harry, why don't you go and rest?" He looked at the determined look on Harry's face and seemed to change his mind. "Or perhaps you could go into the great hall. We have all of our bodies in there." His face fell and his voice which was usually so strong, gave out at the end. "I know it would help, maybe if you were there to console, console those who are healing." Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. The last thing he wanted to do was to go in there and to see everyone who had died for him. He didn't know if he could bear to look at George, crying over Fred's body, or Remus and Tonks alone but together. But he knew that was what he needed. If not just to help everyone else, but maybe to help himself as well. Thanking Kingsley he turned to walk into the castle. He stopped at the doors and turned around for one last look at the man who had changed his life forever, but all he saw was smoke and flame.