Harry Potter

After the War

Prologue

The dust began to fall as Harry lowered his wand. Voldemort was finally dead. A stunned silence filled the Great Hall as the remaining students, Death Eaters and Order members took in the news. Suddenly a huge roar sounded behind him as people began to cheer. Harry blocked it out. All that was running through his head was 'it's over'. All his life, Voldemort had been looming over him, killing his friends, turning people against him. But he was gone now. And he was never coming back. Harry looked away from the pile that was Voldemort's ashes and looked around the broken Great Hall.

He was abruptly ambushed by a bushy brown head of hair as Hermione Granger threw her arms around him, "Harry! Oh my god, we thought you were dead! Don't ever do that to us again, do you hear me?" She stood back to reveal Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend, standing next to her.

He looked battered and distraught, "You did it, mate. You finally got him." He clapped Harry on the back.

"I did it for Fred, Ron. I killed Him for everyone we've lost," Harry told him. At his words, Ron's face crumpled and tears streamed out of his eyes. Harry grabbed him in a fierce hug and Ron clutched at his friend, letting his heart pour out through his tears. After a few minutes, Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder and took Ron's burden. As Harry turned away from his friends, he felt a sharp sting across his cheek. Ginny had slapped him.

"What the he-" She grabbed his face and pulled his lips down onto hers. He forgot about the pulsing pain in his cheek and focused on the burning passion spreading through his lips to his heart.

Ginny pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, "I hate you, you know that right?" Harry thought about how he would feel if he thought she was dead. His heart flooded with sadness at the thought.

He gave her a sad smile, "Yeah, I know."

She looked over a Ron and Hermione, "Have those two realised they love each other yet?"

"Yeah, turns out only a war could do that." Ginny grinned at him, "What?"

"I need to go find Luna. We had a bet on how long it would take, and I'm now 10 galleons richer." She kissed him once more and ran off to look for her friend. As Harry looked after her, his eyes were drawn to the bodies on the floor. Most were covered with shrouds but some were still visible. Harry's eyes caught one particular body. At sixteen, Colin Creevy was one of the bravest people Harry had ever met. He had always kept his head high through the merciless bullying he'd been tormented with every day; after the basilisk attack, he'd worked harder than even Hermione, trying to design spells to protect witches and wizards from such beasts; he'd always looked up to Harry and believed in him when very few would. Harry crouched down beside his friend. As tears filled his eyes, he noticed something sticking out of Colin's breast pocket. He gently removed the paper and unfolded it, seeing a reflection of himself in the picture. His tears spilled over onto the photograph. He pulled out a quill and wrote his name on it.

Hermione and Ron came over to stand by his shoulder, "What you doing, mate?" Ron's voice rough with drying tears.

"He never did get that autograph." Harry explained, as he tucked the photo back into his pocket. He stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked at his best friends, the golden trio. He thought back to all the times they'd been there for him. "You need to know the whole story," Ron and Hermione exchange a glance. Harry led them to Dumbledore's office and told them the truth of how he died.