19 Years

{Prologue}

The war was over. Voldemort was defeated. All was well.

Boy were they wrong.

Voldemort was never really destroyed that night. You see, as everyone celebrated the triumph of light over dark, good over evil, they didn't notice the broken body of the snakelike being that had been Lord Voldemort move ever so slightly. Nobody noticed the wisp of dark matter rise from his unbreathing mouth, almost transparent, yet still there. And they certainly didn't see the last glow of life in his unseeing eyes as the wisp floated higher and higher.

As the maimed soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle travelled freely over the north tower of the battle-torn remains of the castle that once was Hogwarts, down on the bridge between two ruined shells of towers Harry Potter took out his near-broken wand from a mokeskin pouch around his neck. The boy who lived yet again drew the Elder wand, pointed it at the fragments in his hand and muttered a single word under his breath.

"Reparo"

At once the fragments leapt from his outstretched palm and with a flurry of brilliant golden sparks it fell back down, good as new. Harry smiled to himself. He was whole once again.

His newly repaired wand in hand, Harry Potter turned and walked back to Ron and Hermione.

"Now what?" asked Ron Weasley. He gestured to the Elder wand in Harry's pocket, "What are we gonna do with it now all this is over?"

"We? It's Harry's now, Ron. It's entirely his choice on what he does with it," said Hermione Granger. She looked up at Harry expectantly. "So?"

The jet haired boy gazed at the wand in his hand. In that moment he held the instrument that could lead him to great power. He could very well rule the world with this in his possession. He traced the shape of the Elder wand with his index finger absentmindedly as he remembered what Voldemort had wanted. What all the previous owners of this powerful wand had wanted. Shaking his head, Harry knew that he did not want to go down that path. He did not want anyone else go down that path.

Lifting his head, he looked at Ron and Hermione.

"This wand's caused more trouble than it's worth," he told them and held up the wand in question. Then, with a couple flicks of his old wand, he transfigured the Elder wand into a small stone, about the size of a plum, and threw it over the side of the bridge and into the waters below.

"I think I want to have a chat with Dumbledore's portrait. Oh, and can you please tell Hagrid I'd like to talk with him about taking the giants back to the mountains. I think they'll cause some trouble and I don't know about you two, but I've had enough trouble for a lifetime"

And with that, he set off towards the Great Hall, blissfully unaware that he would be getting a rather large dose of trouble very soon.