Harry was lying facedown on the ground again. The smell of the forest filled his nostrils. He could feel the cold hard ground beneath his cheek, and the hinge of his glasses, which had been knocked sideways by the fall, cutting into his temple. Every inch of him ached, and the place where the Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. He did not stir, but remained exactly where he had fallen, with his left arm bent out at an awkward angle and his mouth gaping.
He had expected to hear cheers of triumph and jubilation at his death, but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.
"My Lord...my Lord..."
It was Bellatrix's voice, and she spoke as if to a lover. Harry did not dare open his eyes, but allowed his other senses to explore his predicament. He knew that his wand was still stowed beneath his robes and the stone was in his pocket because he could feel them pressed between his chest, his leg and the ground. A slight cushioning effect in the area of his stomach told him that the Invisibility Cloak was also there, stuffed out of sight.
"My Lord..."
"That will do." said Voldemort's voice.
More footsteps. Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why, Harry opened his eyes by a millimeter.
Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet. Various Death Eaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Bellatrix alone remained behind, kneeling beside Voldemort.
Harry closed his eyes again and considered what he had seen. The Death Eaters had been huddled around Voldemort, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Harry with the Killing Curse. Had Voldemort too collapsed? It seemed like it. And both of them had fallen briefly unconscious and both of them had now returned...
"My Lord, let me..."
"I do not require assistance." said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand. "The boy...Is he dead?"
There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Harry, but he felt their concentrated gaze, it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch.
"You." said Voldemort, and there was a bang and a small shriek of pain. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
Harry did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same time noting, small comfort though it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan...
Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched Harry's face, pulled back an eyelid, crept beneath his shirt, down to his chest, and felt his heart. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her long hair tickled his face. He knew that she could feel the steady pounding of life against his ribs.
"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"
The whisper was barely audible, her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.
"Yes." he breathed back.
He felt the hand on his chest contract, her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up.
"He is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.
And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through his eyelids, Harry saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.
Still feigning death on the ground, he understood. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts, and find her son, was as part of the conquering army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.
"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"
Harry had been expecting it, knew his body would not be allowed to remain unsullied upon the forest floor, it must be subjected to humiliation to prove Voldemort's victory. He was lifted into the air, and it took all his determination to remain limp, yet the pain he expected did not come. He was thrown once, twice, three times into the air. His glasses flew off and he felt his wand slide a little beneath his robes, but he kept himself floppy and lifeless, and when he fell to the ground for the last time, the clearing echoed with jeers and shrieks of laughter.
"Now." said Voldemort. "We go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No...Wait..."
There was a fresh outbreak of laughter, and after a few moments Harry felt the ground trembling beneath him.
"You carry him." Voldemort said. "He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses...put on the glasses...he must be recognizable..."
Someone slammed Harry's glasses back onto his face with deliberate force, but the enormous hands that lifted him into the air were exceedingly gentle. Harry could feel Hagrid's arms trembling with the force of his heaving sobs, great tears splashed down upon him as Hagrid cradled Harry in his arms, and Harry did not dare, by movement or word, to intimate to Hagrid that all was not, yet, lost.
"Move." said Voldemort, and Hagrid stumbled forward, forcing his way through the close growing trees, back through the forest. Branches caught at Harry's hair and robes, but he lay quiescent, his mouth lolling open, his eyes shut, and in the darkness, while the Death Eaters crowed all around them, and while Hagrid sobbed blindly, nobody looked to see whether a pulse beat in the exposed neck of Harry Potter...
Two figures faced each other just outside the castle's crumbling walls. Y/n Grindelwald and his twin brother, Atticus.
The air between them was charged, both with the magic of their impending duel and the weight of their shared history.
"Your friend Potter will be dead by now." Atticus sneered, his voice carrying through the silence. His eyes gleamed with a cruel kind of joy, hoping to unnerve his brother.
Y/n's wand was steady, his face set in stone. "Harry will have died braver than any you know." he replied, his tone unwavering. The knowledge of Harry's sacrifice sat heavily in his heart, but he would not allow Atticus to wield that grief like a weapon. "You have always underestimated him. That is your mistake."
Atticus raised his wand, the sneer twisting further across his face. "Let's see if your faith in Potter helps you survive this."
Without warning, the sky between them erupted in flashes of green and red. Spells tore through the space, crashing into the ground and walls around them. Y/n countered Atticus's barrage with fierce precision, matching his brother blow for blow. The power between them was palpable, equally matched, and equally relentless.
They danced around each other, magic streaking from their wands in blinding arcs. Y/n dodged a searing curse aimed at his chest, countering with a silent Stupefy that Atticus deflected easily. The twins moved fluidly, circling like wolves hunting for weakness, neither giving an inch.
The ground beneath their feet scorched and cracked with the ferocity of their spells. As they fought, their faces mirrored one another, one twisted with malice, the other with grim determination.
Suddenly, Y/n's voice cut through the clash of spells. "Do you feel no remorse? For our parents? For Draco, your so-called friend, whom you abandoned?"
Atticus snarled, his wand arm faltering for the briefest second before he retaliated with a Blasting Curse. Y/n deflected it, but the ground exploded at his feet, sending him stumbling back. Atticus pressed forward, his laughter sharp and vicious.
"Parents? Friends?" he spat, venom dripping from every word. "I don't need any of those things. Draco was nothing but an annoying child with delusions of grandeur, just like his father. I used him for the connections I needed, nothing more. His usefulness is over, and his life means nothing to me now."
Y/n's heart clenched at the coldness in his brother's voice, but he forced himself to stay focused. Atticus moved like a predator, his wand carving through the air with ruthless efficiency, each spell darker than the last.
"And our parents." Atticus continued, his voice a low hiss as he sent another curse towards Y/n, who barely dodged it. "Ivan and Priscilla Grindelwald were formidable, yes, but they were weak in the end. Their deaths only prove that."
Y/n's breath came in ragged bursts as he blocked another curse, his face darkening with anger. "If I let you live." he said, voice thick with resolution. "Who is to say you will not become the next Dark Lord? This ends here, Atticus."
Atticus threw his head back, laughing manically. His eyes gleamed with malevolent delight as he took in Y/n's determined stance. "An end to me?" he mocked, his laughter sharp and cutting. "You jest too much, brother. You don't have the courage to do such a thing. You never have."
Y/n's jaw tightened, his grip on his wand growing stronger.
"Killing our parents meant nothing to you." Atticus continued, circling his brother slowly. "Because they were nothing to you and nothing to me. But you've always held back when facing me. How many mudbloods have died because of your weakness?"
The accusation was like a dagger, but Y/n refused to let it break him. They were circling now, their positions shifting with every step. Their eyes locked, both knowing this duel was not merely one of magic but of conviction. The weight of their shared history hung between them like a storm cloud, ready to burst.
As they continued to duel, Y/n could feel the familiar ache of the bond they once shared, two brothers, raised in the shadow of darkness. But that bond was shattered, now replaced with nothing but regret and a sense of duty. Y/n would stop Atticus, no matter what it took.
Then, in the heat of their duel, Atticus flicked his wand in an intricate pattern. A statue from the courtyard exploded behind Y/n, sending shards of stone and dust into the air. Y/n raised his arm to shield his face, momentarily blinded.
When the dust cleared, Atticus was gone.
Y/n's heart raced as he realized what had happened. "Atticus!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the stone walls of Hogwarts.
But there was no answer.
Y/n wasted no time, rushing into the castle, his eyes scanning the hallways for any sign of his brother. Y/n's focus was singular. He couldn't allow Atticus to escape.
As he moved deeper into the castle, Y/n's thoughts raced. His brother had always been cunning, always planning ahead, but Y/n was determined to find him. This wasn't just about fulfilling a prophecy anymore, it was about ending the threat he posed to the world.
Y/n clenched his wand tightly as he moved through the darkened corridors. Somewhere in this maze of a castle, Atticus was waiting for him. And when they met again, Y/n knew it would be the final confrontation. There was no turning back now.
He would find Atticus...and this time, he wouldn't let him escape.
The battle between them was far from over.
Harry was still being carried in the arms of Hagrid as silence settled in the castle grounds and from the castle itself.
Voldemort was so close to him that Harry did not dare open his eyes again.
"Come." said Voldemort, and Harry heard him move ahead, and Hagrid was forced to follow. Now Harry opened his eyes a fraction, and saw Voldemort striding in front of them, wearing the great snake Nagini around his shoulders, now free of her enchanted cage. But Harry had no possibility of extracting the wand concealed under his robes without being noticed by the Death Eaters, who marched on either side of them through the slowly lightening darkness...
"Harry." sobbed Hagrid as they continued to walk from some distance. "Oh, Harry...Harry..."
Harry shut his eyes tight again. He knew that they were approaching the castle and strained his ears to distinguish, above the gleeful voices of the Death Eaters and their tramping footsteps, signs of life from those within.
"Stop." Voldemort's voice suddenly called again.
The Death Eaters came to a halt and Harry heard them begin to whisper and murmur as they all began spreading out in a line facing the castle.
Harry, out of sheer curiosity slightly opened one of his eyes again, only this time to see what appeared to be a giant frozen dragon made of Ice in the Hogwarts courtyard. A sight that confused Harry. He did not remember Voldemort having any Dragons upon his side.
But then the Dark Lord spoke up.
"The boy has put up a formidable fight it would seem...both Ivan and Priscilla have been faithful servants, but it would seem their limits have been reached." He said discarding their deaths. "The two boys look to be absent...the battle must be continuing inside...yes. It matters not however if Atticus fails, for Lord Voldemort will not." Voldemort said seemingly standing looking at something that Harry could only assume were most likely Y/n's parents.
"My Lord?" A lone Death eater asked.
"Leave them where they lie...It is a shame for such pure blood to be spilt but they have no further use to Lord Voldemort. Come." Voldemort directed them to follow once again and Harry knew they were close to the open front doors of the school. He could see, even through his closed lids, the reddish glow that meant light streamed upon him from the entrance hall. He waited. Any moment, the people for whom he had tried to die would see him, lying apparently dead, in Hagrid's arms.
"NO!"
The scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. He heard another woman laughing nearby, and knew that Bellatrix gloried in McGonagall's despair. He squinted again for a single second and saw the open doorway filling with people, as the survivors of the battle came out onto the front steps to face their vanquishers and see the truth of Harry's death for themselves. He saw Voldemort standing a little in front of him, stroking Nagini's head with a single white finger. He closed his eyes again.
"No!"
"No!"
"Harry! HARRY!"
Ron's, Hermione's, and Ginny's voices were worse than McGonagall's. Harry wanted nothing more than to call back, yet he made himself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger, the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eaters, until...
"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"
Harry felt himself lowered onto the grass.
"You see?" said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"
"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.
"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds." said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the lie. "Killed while trying to save himself..."
But Voldemort broke off. Harry heard a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain, he opened his eyes an infinitesimal amount. Someone had broken free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort. Harry saw the figure hit the ground, Disarmed, Voldemort throwing the challenger's wand aside and laughing.
"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"
Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"
"Ah, yes, I remember." said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.
"So what if I am?" said Neville loudly.
"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."
"I'll join you when hell freezes over." said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.
"Very well." said Voldemort, and Harry heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head." he said quietly. "Be it."
Still watching through his lashes, Harry saw Voldemort wave his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half light and landed in Voldemort's hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged, the Sorting Hat.
"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School." said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"
He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.
"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.
Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Harry could not bear it: He must act...
And then many things happened at the same moment.
They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants. They ran at Grawp like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes, swung it over himself, and sprang to his feet, as Neville moved too.
In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him, the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle...
The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.
Hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry cast a Shield Charm between Neville and Voldemort before the latter could raise his wand. Then, over the screams and the roars and the thunderous stamps of the battling giants, Hagrid's yell came loudest of all.
"HARRY!" Hagrid shouted. "HARRY...WHERE'S HARRY?"
Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where, Harry saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them, and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle. Harry was shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater he could see, and they crumpled, not knowing what or who had hit them, and their bodies were trampled by the retreating crowd.
Still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry was buffeted into the entrance hall. He was searching for Voldemort and saw him across the room, firing spells from his wand as he backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right. Harry cast more Shield Charms, and Voldemort's would-be victims, Seamus Finnigan and Hannah Abbott, darted past him into the Great Hall, where they joined the fight already flourishing inside it.
And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Harry saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Bane, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Harry the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.
The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog's voice audible even above this din: "Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!"
They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Harry looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.
But it was not over yet, Harry sped between duelers, past struggling prisoners, and into the Great Hall.
Y/n's shoes echoed through the dim corridors of Hogwarts, the air thick with the sounds of battle and destruction restarted below. Rubble and dust choked the once-pristine hallways, but Y/n barely noticed. His senses were focused on one thing, finding Atticus. The bond between them, frayed and nearly severed by years of resentment and bitterness, still hummed faintly within him, guiding him through the twisting paths of the castle. Somewhere in the shadows, his twin waited, an enemy now, not a brother.
He pressed on, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a countdown to their inevitable collision.
Suddenly, a faint crack of magic echoed through the corridors. Y/n's heart leaped. He turned sharply down a narrow passageway, eyes scanning the shadows. The sounds of the battle below faded, replaced by the tense silence of a predator stalking its prey. He could feel Atticus's presence now, just ahead.
And then he saw him.
At the far end of the corridor, silhouetted by a flickering torchlight, Atticus stood with his back to Y/n, surveying the chaos outside of the castle through a shattered window. His robes billowed slightly in the breeze that swept in through the broken glass. Y/n's breath caught in his throat. His twin's posture was too calm, too assured, as if the war tearing apart the world outside didn't touch him.
"Atticus!" Y/n's voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.
Slowly, Atticus turned, the familiar cruel smirk twisting his features as his eyes met Y/n's. "I wondered when you'd catch up to me." he said, his tone mocking.
There was no hesitation. Y/n's wand snapped up, and the first spell shot toward Atticus with deadly precision. "Expelliarmus!"
But Atticus deflected it effortlessly, the red spark of Y/n's spell ricocheting off the stone wall and fizzling out. Atticus sneered, his wand raised. "I thought you'd put up more of a fight."
Without another word, they were dueling again, their wands moving in a blur of light and fury. Spells crackled and exploded between them, each one more vicious than the last. Atticus moved with lethal grace, his curses sharp and deadly, while Y/n's were fueled by raw determination. The narrow corridor erupted in flashes of green and red as their magic clashed.
Y/n gritted his teeth, his wand slashing through the air as he cast a powerful Shield Charm. "Protego!" The force of Atticus's curse crashed against the barrier, sending sparks flying. The shield held, but barely. Y/n retaliated with a Stupefy, but Atticus was too quick, spinning out of the way and firing back with a Blasting Curse that shattered a nearby column.
The ground shook beneath them as rubble rained down, but neither brother flinched. Their duel was a deadly dance, perfectly matched in skill and power. But Y/n knew that this couldn't last. One of them would have to falter, and he could not... would not...let it be him.
"You've always been weak, Y/n!" Atticus taunted between spells, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Always holding back, too afraid to do what needs to be done."
Y/n's jaw clenched as he blocked another curse that would have knocked him off his feet. "You are wrong!" he shouted, sending a wave of fire roaring toward Atticus, who deflected it with a casual flick of his wand.
Their battle continued, relentless and unforgiving, until they reached the far end of the corridor where the castle's great staircase stood. The floor was strewn with debris, and the distant sounds of the battle raged on through the castle, but here, in this moment, it was as if time had slowed. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the weight of everything that had come before.
Just as Y/n raised his wand to cast another spell, a soft voice called out from behind him.
"Oh."
Y/n's heart dropped. Luna Lovegood stood at the end of the corridor, her wide eyes blinking curiously as if she had wandered into a classroom instead of a battlefield. Her long, blonde hair flowed behind her, and she seemed utterly unperturbed by the destruction around them.
"Luna, get out of here!" Y/n shouted, panic rising in his throat. He turned slightly, keeping his wand trained on Atticus but trying to warn her. "Go! It is not safe..."
But it was too late.
Atticus's wand moved in a flash. "Avada Kedavra!"
The killing curse struck Luna squarely in the chest, her eyes widening in shock before she crumpled to the floor, lifeless. The bright, innocent light that had always surrounded her was snuffed out in an instant.
"No!" Y/n screamed, his voice raw with grief. He surged forward, his heart shattering as he dropped to his knees beside Luna's body. His hands trembled as he touched her cold skin, the reality of her death slamming into him like a physical blow. He had failed her. She was gone, and it was because of him.
Atticus's laughter echoed through the corridor, cold and hollow. "So weak, Y/n." he taunted, his voice dripping with cruelty. "You couldn't even save her."
Rage erupted in Y/n's chest, molten and unstoppable. He stood, his entire body shaking with fury as he turned to face his brother. His vision blurred with tears, but his mind was clear, clearer than it had ever been.
"You are the one who is weak Atticus." Y/n growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Always relying on others to teach you when I strived to learn on my own."
Atticus's smirk faltered as he saw the look in Y/n's eyes. For the first time in their lives, Y/n's anger was more than just words.
Fueled by the grief and rage of Luna's senseless death, Y/n unleashed a torrent of magic unlike anything he had ever wielded before. His wand became an extension of his fury, and Atticus, for all his arrogance, was caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of Y/n's attacks.
"Crucio!" Y/n roared, his spell hitting Atticus square in the chest. His brother screamed, collapsing to the ground as the curse tore through him. Y/n felt no satisfaction, only the burning need for this to end.
Atticus writhed in pain, struggling to get to his feet, but Y/n didn't stop. He advanced, his wand never lowering, his voice shaking with raw emotion. "You killed her. You killed Luna when she posed no threat towards you! And now...now I have to stop you."
Atticus's eyes widened, and for a brief moment, there was fear in them. "Y/n...don't..."
"Avada Kedavra!"
The words left Y/n's lips without hesitation, the green light of the Killing Curse exploding from his wand and striking Atticus in the chest. His brother's body jerked violently, and for a brief moment, Y/n saw the life drain from his eyes. Then Atticus crumpled to the floor, lifeless, the mocking smirk forever frozen on his face.
Silence fell over the corridor, broken only by the distant sounds of the battle outside.
Y/n stood there, staring down at his brother's body, the weight of what he had done crashing over him in waves. He had done it...killed Atticus. His twin. His brother. He had done what he never thought he would be capable of, but it hadn't brought him peace.
"We were brothers once." Y/n whispered, his voice trembling as tears slid down his cheeks. He then took out a small black box with silver marks etched upon it and placed it down on Atticus's body. "Once..."
The words hung in the air, heavy with sorrow. Y/n turned, his eyes lingering on Luna's body for a moment longer before he lowered his head. There was no victory here, only loss. And now, he had to live with the choices he had made.
With one last glance at the bodies of his brother and Luna, Y/n turned and walked away, the weight of their deaths following him into the battle that still raged beyond the castle walls.
Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting all within reach. Harry could not get a clear shot, but fought his way nearer, still invisible, and the Great Hall became more and more crowded as everyone who could walk forced their way inside.
Harry saw Yaxley slammed to the floor by George and Lee Jordan, saw the Death Eater with Yaxley before fall with a scream at Flitwick's hands, saw Walden Macnair thrown across the room by Hagrid, hit the stone wall opposite, and slide unconscious to the ground. He saw Ron and Neville bringing down Fenrir Greyback, Aberforth Stunning Rookwood, Arthur and Percy flooring Thicknesse, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their son.
Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him...
Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once. Hermione, Ginny, and Tonks, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry's attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch...
He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.
"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Harry watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked, both women were fighting to kill.
"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"
Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, Bellatrix and Molly, and Harry stood, invisible, torn between both, wanting to attack and yet to protect, unable to be sure that he would not hit the innocent.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone?"
"You...will...never...touch...our...children!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.
Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backward through the veil, and suddenly Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.
Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.
Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge. For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.
Harry felt as though he turned in slow motion, he saw McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.
The green light of the Killing Curse began to crackle at its tip, and for a heart-stopping second, Harry worried he wouldn't be able to stop it in time.
But then, from the edge of the chaos, a figure leaped into the fray.
"Accio shield!" Y/n Grindelwald's voice cut through the din, and a shimmering shield erupted between Voldemort and Molly, absorbing the deadly curse. The force of the impact sent sparks flying in every direction, but the shield held strong.
Molly staggered backward, her face pale but alive. She glanced up, wide-eyed with shock and gratitude, at Y/n, who stepped in front of her, his wand raised. His expression was hard, determined, as he locked eyes with Voldemort.
Voldemort's snake-like features twisted into a sneer. "Grindelwald's kin." he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you think you can protect her? You will fall just like your parents did. Your bloodline is cursed to die beneath my hand."
Y/n didn't flinch. "You have been wrong before." he said evenly, his wand steady. "Let us see if you're wrong again."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and with a snarl, he lashed out with a spell. "Crucio!"
But Y/n was ready. His wand moved with blinding speed, deflecting the curse with ease. He spun around, launching a counter-attack, the air around him crackling with raw power.
"Expulso!" Y/n shouted, sending a shockwave of magic directly at Voldemort. The force of it blew debris into the air as Voldemort sidestepped it, his movements graceful but tense.
The onlookers, including the surviving members of the Order, Death Eaters, and students who had been caught in the battle, stared in disbelief. They had seen duels, but this...this was something else. Y/n moved with an effortless grace, every flick of his wand precise and powerful, as if he was channeling not just his own magic but the combined knowledge of generations. His spells were complex, layered with both offensive power and defensive precision that rivaled anything that had been seen since Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort in the Ministry.
Voldemort, for the first time since the battle began, looked... uncertain. His fury was still evident, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else, wariness. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Y/n noticed it.
"You know you are not the only one to ever aspire to power, Tom." Y/n said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. "There have been others, greater than you. And they fell."
Voldemort's nostrils flared at the use of his old name, his anger flaring again. He slashed his wand through the air, unleashing a torrent of dark magic. The very stones beneath their feet trembled as tendrils of black fire snaked toward Y/n, ready to consume him.
Y/n raised his wand again, this time without a word. With a subtle twist, he manipulated the magic in a way that seemed effortless, dispersing the dark flames before they could reach him. He moved with such fluidity that it seemed he was dancing through the spells, not dueling.
"Is that the best you can do?" Y/n's voice was steady, unwavering. "To call yourself the greatest wizard of all time, the dark lord. Yet you struggle against me? Y/n Grindelwald." Y/n taunted him.
Voldemort snarled, his red eyes burning with rage. The duel intensified, spell after spell flying between them, each clash of magic sending shockwaves through the hall. Y/n deflected curses that would have obliterated lesser wizards, and with each passing second, Voldemort's frustration grew.
The crowd watched in awe. McGonagall, now back on her feet after being blasted away, could only gape at the level of skill Y/n displayed. Kingsley, stone-faced, exchanged a glance with Lupin, both silently acknowledging what was happening before their eyes. Y/n Grindelwald was not just a talented wizard, he was a master, on a level only a few could reach.
Yet through it all, Y/n knew the duel couldn't go on forever. He was holding his own, but he knew it needed to end. He deflected another one of Voldemort's curses, this time with a force that sent Voldemort skidding back slightly.
Harry watching this took this as his chance. "Y/n!" his voice rang out from across the hall.
Both Y/n and Voldemort turned toward the sound. Harry had finally removed the Invisibility Cloak, standing tall amidst the rubble, his face grim with determination. His eyes met Y/n's for a fleeting moment and despite the shock of seeing him alive, a silent understanding passed between them. Y/n wasn't here to defeat Voldemort...that task belonged to Harry.
The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of the Hall
"Harry!"
"HE'S ALIVE!"
"SILENCE!" Voldemort angrily shouted and they were all stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort Y/n and Harry looked at each other.
"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said loudly, but mostly to Y/n who had not taken his eyes off Voldemort nor lowered his wand. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me." Harry said moving to stand beside Y/n now.
"I know..." Y/n said as he stepped back now, this was Harry's fight. He had done his part.
Voldemort hissed. "Potter doesn't mean that." he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody." said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..." Harry said as he Voldemort at the same time began to circle one another.
"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"
"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"
"You won't be killing anyone else tonight." said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people..."
"But you did not!"
"I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"
"You dare..."
"Yes, I dare." said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"
Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret...
"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter...and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"
"Just one thing." said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.
"If it is not love that will save you this time." said Voldemort. "You must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"I believe both." said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled, Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams, humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.
"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"
"Oh, he dreamed of it." said Harry. "But he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."
"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"
"No, he was cleverer than you." said Harry. "A better wizard, a better man."
"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"
"You thought you did." said Harry. "But you were wrong."
For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one. Y/n did not understand either.
"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"
"Yes, Dumbledore's dead." said Harry calmly. "But you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."
"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.
"Severus Snape wasn't yours." said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"
Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.
"Snape's Patronus was a doe." said Harry. "The same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare. "He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"
For the first time in Y/n's life, he felt sorry for Severus Snape.
"He desired her, that was all." sneered Voldemort. "But when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him..."
"Of course he told you that." said Harry. "But he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"
"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!
Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy... I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"
"Yeah, it did." said Harry. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done...Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle..."
"What is this?"
Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract to thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.
"It's your one last chance." said Harry. "It's all you've got left...I've seen what you'll be otherwise. Be a man...try...Try for some remorse..."
"You dare..." said Voldemort again.
"Yes, I dare." said Harry. "Because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."
Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away.
"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."
"He killed..."
"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard...The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance..."
Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."
Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.
"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand. We duel on skill alone...and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy..."
"But you're too late." said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."
Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.
"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does...I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Y/n saw Voldemort's green jet meet Harry's own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.
One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended, and then the tumult broke around as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward Harry, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny and Neville were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last...
Y/n who had slipped through the gaps of the crowd stood on the edge as he watched them all celebrate the hard-earned victory. He did not know what to feel at this moment. It truly was finally over... There were no more missions, no more prophecies to fulfill...they had survived. But while he felt relieved, he also could not find it within himself to celebrate with the others. They had all lost so much along the way.
He turned his head to watch as many of the Death Eaters began to flee from the Great Hall and he contemplated giving chase to them, but he knew that even if they escaped now it would only be a matter of time before they were caught.
Instead, he thought of poor Luna and silently left as he went to retrieve her body.
The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light as news began creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on, that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.
They had moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Katie Bell, Luna Lovegood, Colin Creevey, and fifty others who had died fighting. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore. All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, Firenze lay recovering in a corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth.
Y/n sat at one of the house tables, his face pale and drawn. His eyes stared into the middle distance, not truly seeing the debris and bodies scattered across the hall. In front of him were Hermione and Ron, both weary and battle-worn, but alive. They had come to find him, noticing his quiet isolation amidst the chaos.
"Y/n." Hermione said gently, her voice full of concern. "What happened?"
Y/n's hand trembled slightly as he ran it through his hair, the weight of what had transpired pressing down on his chest. His gaze flickered to her and then to Ron, whose face was grim. They both knew something was wrong...more than just the battle that had shaken everyone.
"Luna..." Y/n's voice cracked, his usually calm demeanor shattered. He swallowed hard before continuing. "Luna is dead."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat and her hand shot to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. "No..." she whispered. "Not Luna."
Y/n nodded, his hands clenching into fists on the table.
Ron blinked, his expression one of pure disbelief. "What?" Ron said, his voice shaky. "No, that can't be true. Luna... she was so strong, so... so good. She survived everything, she..."
"Atticus killed her." Y/n interrupted, his voice filled with guilt and rage. "He...he did it right in front of me, and I could not stop him. I tried to protect her. I...really did. I was dueling Atticus and Luna... she just appeared. She did not even realize what was happening. She was always so... innocent, so unafraid, even in the middle of all this chaos. And he used it against her. The Killing curse."
Ron looked devastated, his hand gripping the edge of the table. "That bastard." he muttered, his voice thick with grief and anger. "How could he? Luna never hurt anyone. She was always... always trying to help."
Y/n lowered his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have been quicker. I should have saved her." His fingers flexed as though trying to grasp the memory and change it, to somehow undo the horror of what had happened. "I failed her."
Hermione reached across the table and placed her hand on Y/n's arm. "It wasn't your fault." she said gently, though her own voice wavered with sorrow. "You were fighting him... there was nothing you could have done. Luna... Luna wouldn't blame you."
Y/n clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "But I blame myself." he muttered. He paused, his voice growing heavier. "When it was all over, I went to get her. I could not leave her there. Not in the middle of all that darkness. So I... I carried her out."
Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, both of them visibly moved by the weight of Y/n's words. Hermione's voice was thick with emotion as she spoke, her tears now falling freely. "You brought her back?"
Y/n nodded, the memory still raw and painful. "I did. She deserved that much, at least. To be with her friends. To be remembered the way she should be, not just as another casualty of this war."
Ron rubbed his hands over his face, trying to stifle his own tears. "You did the right thing." he whispered. "She would've wanted to be with us."
Y/n exhaled slowly, feeling a small, bitter sense of relief at Ron's words. But there was more he had to say. More darkness still weighing on him.
"I also brought back Snape." Y/n added after a long pause.
Both Ron and Hermione turned to him, confusion and surprise etched on their faces. Hermione spoke first. "Snape?" she asked.
Y/n nodded solemnly. "Yes. From the Shrieking Shack. I took his body and brought it here. He deserves to be remembered too, for everything he did... for Harry, for all of us."
Hermione wiped her eyes, her face full of quiet understanding. "Snape... he sacrificed everything."
Ron looked down at the table, still processing everything Y/n had shared. "Snape." he muttered, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd say it, but... he was a hero, wasn't he? A right git for most of our time here, but... a hero."
Y/n managed a faint, weary smile at Ron's words. "He was. More than most of us knew."
The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the battle's losses settling over them. The sounds of the hall, cries of mourning, murmured conversations, the shuffle of feet faded into the background, leaving only the quiet grief shared between them.
"Luna... Snape..." Hermione whispered, her voice full of sorrow. "So many lives... so much sacrifice."
Y/n nodded, his expression hardening again. "And now, we move forward. We carry their memory with us, and we rebuild. For them. For everyone we lost."
Ron raised his head, his eyes red but resolute. "Yeah." he agreed quietly. "For Luna, For Dobby..."
Hermione's hand tightened on Y/n's arm, and he felt the strength of her solidarity, the unspoken bond that had been forged between them all in the fires of this war.
"They will be remembered." Y/n said softly, his voice steady now. "Every one of them." He looked at Ron and Hermione, his eyes reflecting both his pain and his determination. "We will make sure of it."
Both Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement. But suddenly Y/n turned his head sensing a new presence.
"It's me." A familiar voice they recognized as Harry muttered. They could not see him so quickly worked out he was wearing the invisibility cloak. "Will you come with me?"
The three stood up at once, and together Harry, Ron, Y/n, and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed.
Somewhere in the distance, they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition.
"We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one, And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!"
"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry, Y/n and Hermione through.
Happiness would come with time, Y/n thought, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion and grief. As they walked Harry painstakingly recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest. Y/n had been grateful to Harry that he did not mention seeing him before he went into the forest, the last thing he wanted was a reason for Hermione and Ron to be mad at him. When Harry finished his tale Y/n felt obliged to tell them what had happened on his own end with his family and how he overcame them. Ron and Hermione had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement to both when at last they arrived at the place to which they had been walking, though none of them had mentioned their destination.
Since Y/n had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside, it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and Y/n wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.
"Can we go up?" Harry asked the gargoyle.
"Feel free." groaned the statue.
They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry pushed open the door at the top.
He had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where he had left it, and then an earsplitting noise made him cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort...
But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation, they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands, they danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted. Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly, Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice. "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"
But Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song.
At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice.
"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch." Harry began, "I kept it so Y/n can use it once, then we'll throw it away. Do you agree?"
'Was Harry referring to the resurrection stone? Had it really been in the snitch?' Y/n wondered.
"My dear boy, I do." said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. "Admirable to save it for Y/n, who only wishes to use it for a final goodbye. Something he has earned after this hard journey you have all shared. To throw it away once done however is also a wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you."
"If Harry is referring to what I think he is...we will discard it somewhere no one shall find it." Y/n said and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction to this.
"I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though." said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed.
"But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"
"And then there's this."
Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Ron and Hermione looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Harry did not like to see.
"I don't want it." said Harry.
"What?" said Ron loudly. "Are you mental?"
"I know it's powerful." said Harry wearily. "But I was happier with mine. So..."
He rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All he knew was that if this did not work, nothing would.
He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said. "Reparo."
As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.
"Expelliarmus." Y/n suddenly called out and Harry felt the Elder wand shoot out of his hand and Y/n caught it as he looked it.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked in shock.
"Y/n?" Hermione asked slightly worried.
"You have no plans to use this wand do you Harry?" Y/n asked him. "Hence why you just repaired your old wand."
Harry shook his head unsure of what Y/n's motives were.
"It is just...I plan to retire my wand. I cannot use mine anymore, not after having used it to end Atticus." Y/n said looking at his own wand. "Let me make this clear, I do not plan to flaunt this wand, to use it for ill deeds, or to overpower others. I wish to make sure it does not fall into the wrong hands and as Dumbledore intended, ends with no master when my day finally comes."
"Keep it." Harry said. "I know if anyone can be trusted with it, it's you."
Y/n just nodded and turned his attention to the portrait now.
"Do you have any objections to my desire Professor?" Y/n asked turning to Dumbledore's portrait.
Dumbledore shook his head and they lightly smiled at each other.
"Are you sure about this Harry?" said Ron now. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand in Y/n's hand.
"I think that wand's more trouble than it's worth personally." said Harry shrugging. "And quite honestly. I've had enough trouble for a lifetime..."
The door to the Headmaster's suddenly opened and the four turned around to see McGonagall who entered just as surprised to see them as they were her.
"Professor McGonagall." Y/n said.
"Mr Grindelwald." McGonagall said but she quickly noticed what was in his hand. "But that wand..."
"It is now my wand Professor." Y/n told her.
"Grindelwald..." McGonagall began.
"It is as the boy says Minerva." Dumbledore's portrait spoke up and McGonagall looked at it behind the four. "The wand has been entrusted to him by Harry and it serves with Y/n Grindelwald as its master now."
"V...Very well Albus." McGonagall said shaking her head.
"When I saw you four were no longer in the Great Hall I had assumed you had gone to rest." McGonagall then said to them.
"Actually Professor we were about to leave to get some rest." Harry said for them and Y/n couldn't deny that nothing would feel better than a bed to him in this moment.
"Of course Potter. I dare say you have all earned a long rest, I'll see to it you are left in peace. You're old beds in Gryffindor tower should be vacant seeing as you would have been attending in your final year if none of this had taken place." McGonagall told them.
"Not all of us Professor." Y/n said.
"No." McGonagall said. "Which reminds me, If you could wait behind a moment Grindelwald I am sure the others can rest without you."
Y/n turned to look at McGonagall properly now. "Can Hermione stay professor?" He asked her.
"The topic I wished to discuss was regarding your future Mr Grindelwald, a rather private matter..." McGonagall said.
"My future is her future and vice versa." Y/n said as he took Hermione's hand.
Hermione nodded her head in agreement intertwining their fingers as McGonagall let out a sigh. "Very well then...Miss Granger can stay."
"We'll see you guys back in the common room." Harry said taking his leave.
"I'm going to let Mum know where we've gone so she doesn't go mad and tear around the castle looking for us." Ron added following behind. Leaving just the three in the office.
McGonagall took out her wand and waved it towards two chairs that moved across the room to sit in front of the desk. Y/n and Hermione without needing to be told to sat down and McGonagall waved her wand once more to send the stone pensive sat upon the desk back to its original place before she sat down at the desk.
"Before we begin, let me say a very well done to you both...to you all.. You have freed not only this school, but our entire world from an uncertain future filled with dark times." McGonagall gave them a proud smile.
Y/n and Hermione smiled. "Thank you Professor." They both said in unison.
"What will happen now?" Hermione asked her.
"It will take some time Miss Granger, but soon things should hopefully return to normal. As I'm sure you've heard Kingsley has been made temporary minister for magic."
Both Y/n and Hermione nodded their heads in acknowledgment of this.
"I myself have just been appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts..." She now told them but was cut off by the sound of portraits behind her beginning to clap and cheer.
Y/n looked up to see Dumbledore clapping and nodding his head as if in agreement with this appointment.
"Congratulations Professor." Y/n said happy for her.
"Thank you Grindelwald. I am glad the decision was made quickly as it allows for the clean up of the mess we are in to happen all that much the quicker." McGonagall admitted.
"What will you to do with the school?" Y/n asked her.
"The school will close for now naturally given the damage the castle has sustained during the battle." McGonagall said. "When it is reopened, any student wishing to return who was previously denied entry will be invited to attend."
"And what about those who were not able to attend to take their N.E.W.T.S this year Professor?" Hermione asked referring to herself and the other students in her year.
"For the next three years Hogwarts will offer an extra year from this year's fifth to seventh-year students so that those who would have been working towards important exams will regain the year that they lost in this one." McGonagall said. "It will mean extra classes of course, but we teachers will manage."
"So we'll be able to come back and finish?" Hermione asked thrilled at the prospect of being able to get her N.E.W.T's. Y/n loved how happy she sounded. It had been far too long since she had gotten excited over anything that was not related to their recently finished mission.
"That is the idea Miss Granger." McGonagall said. "I shall have to find a new teacher for Muggle studies. We must fix the despicable damage done by the Carrows in that subject."
"What about Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor? Surely you will need to find a new person to fill that position also." Hermione asked.
"I already have a teacher in mind Miss Granger." McGonagall told her. "Which is why is I asked you to stay behind Grindelwald."
"I see..." Y/n nodded his head feeling slightly disappointed. While he wanted nothing more than to teach the subject, he understood he was probably still young and did not meet the requirements.
"What do you think?" McGonagall asked him.
"What do you mean?" Y/n asked back slightly confused.
"Grindelwald, I am offering you the position." McGonagall told him now.
"M..Me?" Y/n stuttered out of shock. "But I thought I needed to work as an assistant first?" He looked at McGonagall and then to Hermione to see that she was in as much shock as he was.
"Normally you would yes." McGonagall said now. "But given this year, your N.E.W.T results and the banned teaching group you and Potter ran in your fifth year... I would say you have the required experience. Kingsley also approves so the ministry will allow it."
"I...I do not know what to say..." Y/n admitted.
"I am hoping you will say yes Grindelwald, It will save me a considerable amount of time." McGonagall replied.
"But what about Lupin? He was a great teacher and I know he needs the work." Y/n asked. He did truly want to say yes but he knew that there would always be a time in the future in which he could apply again. He would be happy to work as Lupin's assistant if it meant helping out the man who he knew needed a job much more than he did..
"I am afraid that Mr Lupin cannot return to Hogwarts as a teacher Grindelwald." McGonagall spoke up now. "Though things will soon return to normal for most, that does not mean that old prejudiced behaviour will disappear overnight. Mr Lupin's problem presents a challenge for the school that most parents would certainly still be unnerved to learn about despite just how well controlled it is now."
"Because he is a werewolf?" Y/n pointed out and McGonagall nodded.
Y/n sighed. He hated it, but he understood the position McGonagall and Lupin were in.
"Is there nothing I can do to help him?" Y/n said.
"There is nothing to say you cannot hire Lupin to be a consultant on your lesson plans before the school year begins." McGonagall suggested now. "Remus spoke both fondly and highly of you when I told him I intended to ask you."
Y/n had one more question to ask but this time he turned to the side to look at Hermione properly. "What do you think?" He asked her opinion.
Hermione looked at him seriously. "I think you should take the position. This is what you have always wanted and you have worked so hard on your N.E.W.T's to get the chance. You deserve it Y/n."
Y/n nodded taking in her opinion but something else came to his mind and he looked forward again. "Professor Dumbledore."
The portrait of Dumbledore who had been watching silently gave him his full attention.
"What about the curse you talked about? I do not want to take the job if I will only last for a year." Y/n admitted.
The portrait smiled. "That curse, I think will have vanished with Riddle's demise. The job will be safe to take and I cannot think of a better person suited for the job."
"Okay..." Y/n nodded thinking it over once more. "I will take the job professor, but Hermione and I have things we need to take care of first."
"You may relax Grindelwald. I am asking you to start teaching the next schooling year, not this one." McGonagall assured him. "Naturally we will be sending the students home earlier this year, or finding accommodation for those who sadly will no longer have parents..." She finished sadly.
Y/n thought for a moment how close Teddy could have come to being one of those without parents.
"There is also the matter of yours and Miss Granger's relationship that needs to be discussed..." McGonagall pointed out.
"Our relationship?" Y/n asked.
"I am aware, as is all of Hogwarts how close you and Miss Granger are. But for your sake, I must ask that you postpone your relationship for a year until Miss Granger graduates. It does not look good on paper for a teacher to be dating a student." McGonagall tried to explain.
"But Professor...We're engaged to be married." Hermione said showing McGonagall her ring finger now.
"Marriage?" McGonagall said looking at the ring. "A marriage between you would most likely solve that problem, If the Ministry approves such an arrangement. But you would likely need to hold a wedding over the summer before the school year starts."
Y/n looked at Hermione again. "The choice is yours if we wait a year or get married this summer. I will wait for you...always." He told her.
But Hermione smiled and shook her head. "We'll have our wedding this summer."
"Then I shall send the request to Kingsley when I also ask for the paperwork regarding your employment Grindelwald." McGonagall said.
"Thank you Professor McGonagall." Y/n nodded.
"That's Minerva now to you...Professor Grindelwald." McGonagall gave him a small smile.