After the War

Chapter 1: After the War

Our story begins immediately after where the Deathly Hallows ended, so the trio just finished talking to Dumbeldore's portrait in the Headmaster's Office. All characters are JK Rowling's!

Harry led the way out of the Headmaster's Office, ever step sending waves of aching pain through his exhausted body, and back down past the collapsed griffin. Ron and Hermione fell into step next to him, hand in hand, and they headed towards their unspoken destination. He barely noticed the debris scattered around the corridors, far too tired to appreciate the gravity of the destruction and only paused to think when they came to a stop before the portrait of the Fat Lady.

He glanced at his two friends who shrugged back, and he simply said, "I don't know the password, but can you just let us in?" 

The Fat Lady was in the midst of enjoying a hearty glass of whisky, her cheeks flushed to match her dress, and her speech was slurred when she responded with "Potter! It's s-all yours! It's s-all over..." and the portrait swung open as the Fat Lady gigged wildly. Harry led the way through the hole and took in the familiar cozy common room with the fire still blazing in front of the plush red armchairs and sofa like they had never left. He sank into the couch and felt Hermione sit next to him and Ron collapse on the other side of her.

"I can't believe it's over," Hermione whispered.

"I can't believe the three of us made it out alive," Ron added with his head resting on top of the couch cushion he was much too tall for. Hermione turned to face Harry, but saw that he had already drifted to sleep against the arm rest, not bothering to move from his seated position. Hermione smiled slightly to herself and turned to show Ron, but too he had fallen asleep as easily as Harry, his mouth wide open emitted soft snores. Hermione laid her head against Ron's shoulder and curled her legs onto the couch next to her so that her foot was pressed gently against Harry's leg. Staring at the dancing flames, she focused on the feeling of the two warm bodies on either side of her and her last thought before closing her own eyes was, we're alive.

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"Ron? Harry? Herm-" called Ginny as the portrait opened, but stopped as she saw the trio fast asleep. Ginny allowed herself a small smile as she turned. "Mum, they're in here sleeping." 

Mrs. Weasley's tear-stained face peered into the room before she clambered through the hole after her daughter and Bill followed.

"Well, they have been up for more than a day and half," Bill said, staring down at them before walking around his old common room, examining the new decor.

"Yes, they clearly need the rest. I'll just leave them a little note so they know where we are. Ginny, dear," she said after summoning some parchment from a nearby table. "Please ask the Fat Lady not to let anyone in." Mrs. Weasley placed the note on the small wooden table next to Harry and took a shaky breath without moving her gaze away from the trio. Finally, she turned away from them and said, "Come on, let's let them sleep."

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Harry felt his eyes open slowly and the aches return to his body along with consciousness. His hand gripped his newly mended wand out of habit, but he loosened his hold as he saw Ron and Hermione still peacefully asleep and thought we're still alive. He leaned forward and rubbed his face with his hands before noticing his skin was covered in a gray blend of dirt, dust, and blood. Standing with a groan, he turned towards the staircase and paused to read Mrs. Weasley's note.

He picked up the quill she had left on top of the parchment and quickly scrawled "I'm upstairs" before dropping the note into Hermione's lap where she couldn't miss it. He walked towards the back of the common room and felt every bone and muscle scream in protest, but he bit back any sound and painfully climbed the stairs. Pressing against the wooden door on the first landing he came to, he sat on the nearest bed, not having the energy to care that this was the first years' dorm. Making it six more flights seemed like more effort than his body would allow.