Hermione looked around the Great Hall, an uneasy feeling swelling up in her chest. It was the first day back at Hogwarts since the attack, and the last place she wanted to be.
The blood had been cleaned up, and the rubble removed, but there was still a lot more that needed to be fixed. The hole in the wall from when the golem crashed into it, the damaged columns, the cracked floor, and that was just in the great hall itself.
The hole in the floor where the golem burst through had been repaired, but not to the same quality it was before with the patch standing out in clear contrast with the rest of the mosaic on the floor.
She could see the guarded looks on the other student's faces as well, many of them with their hands resting on their wand holsters.
Returning to Hogwarts hadn't been the same either. Instead of arriving on the Hogwarts Express and taking the boats to the castle, or even the carriages they all arrived using a combination of the floo network, and side long apparition to the edge of the wards, and walking the rest of the way to the castle.
The part that stood out most, however, was the strong Auror presence in the school. By her count, there were at least twenty of them roaming the halls of the castle.
She didn't know quite how to feel about that. Part of her was glad the Ministry was at least taking security seriously, but she also remembered how ineffectual they had been during the battle, and also resentful that so many of them had sat out the battle, leaving them to fend for themselves.
"Hermione!" she heard a familiar voice shout from behind her.
Her eyes lit up as she turned around. "Draco!" she shouted, running to meet her friend, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "It's good to see you! How are you? I didn't get any letters from you. What happened?" She blurted out all at once.
"It's good to see you again too," Draco replied, a genuine smile on his face. "I'm alright," he added, the smile slipping off his face. "What about you?" He asked in concern.
Hermione sighed. "I'm getting through it," she replied. "I spent some time at the Burrow with Ron and his family. It helped a little. What about you?"
"My parents had me talk to a mind healer," Draco admitted. "It helped too… they taught me some occlumency, showed me how to compartmentalize my memories."
"I'm glad," Hermione replied as they fell into an uncomfortable silence.
"…I snuck out a letter to Ron," Draco said, trying to think of something to say.
"Ron told me," Hermione replied.
"Oh.. Have you seen him?" Draco asked, looking around. It was hard to tell where anyone was with so many students milling about.
"Not yet," Hermione replied. "But he should be here soon. He said his parents were going to sidelong apparate them to Hogwarts. They're probably still walking to the front entrance now."
Draco nodded. "…Have you heard anything about Harry? I asked my father, but he… He said that he didn't know anything about it," he added, remembering how strange his father had acted when he asked him.
Hermione nodded, sobering immediately. "Ron said he talked to Rita Skeeter. She said she saw him. He's alive… but he's in bad shape."
Draco breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Then he'll pull through. If this didn't kill him, nothing will."
Hermione could only nod, hoping that Draco was right.
~***~
Minerva sat at the teacher's table, casting a worried glance over the students, seeing the looks on their faces. They had come back far too soon. They hadn't even processed what happened, let alone learned how to deal with the strong emotions they were all feeling.
She remembered arguing with Albus late into the night about his decision to bring them back, telling him it would have been far better to end the term early, and have the students come back in September after the rest of the repairs were complete, but the Headmaster had been adamant.
She glanced to her right. Filius was alive, but he'd lost his leg, and now wore a prosthetic. He would have to use a cane for the rest of his life, and could never duel competitively again.
Further down the table, she could see Severus. His arm was in a sling after being mangled beyond recognition in the battle. He had told her privately the healers had little hope of him ever regaining full use of his arm again.
Further down, she looked at the empty seat of Cybill Treleway. She had lost track of her in the earlier stages of the battle, but from what she heard, the former Divination Professor had hidden underneath a table for the entirety of the battle.
She had resigned by owl in the days after the battle in disgrace, but she wasn't sad to see her go. The woman was nothing more than a fraud, having been caught on more than one occasion drinking sherry between classes.
Then she looked to her right. Quirinus sat in his chair next to her, but was far more subdued than he'd ever been before, bandages still wrapped around his head.
He had gone down in the early stages of the battle and had woken up in St. Mungos.
From the brief conversation she had with him since the battle he'd confessed the whole experience had shaken him to his core, and he was on the verge of resigning, blaming himself for his inability to protect the students.
With a heavy heart, she looked down the line at the other empty seats. Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor died after taking a cutting curse to the neck. He had been a professor at Hogwarts for four decades and had only recently begun discussing retirement to spend more time with his children and grandchildren. He wouldn't get that chance now.
Then there was the empty seat of the Deputy Headmistress, her former seat, taken up by Olivia Green.
In her eyes, Olivia's death had been the most tragic of all. She had been a young professor with many decades of teaching in front of her, a whole life to live, and it had been snuffed out in an instant.
She then looked at the empty seat of the Headmaster, her gaze hardening. He still hadn't arrived yet, even though it was his idea to reopen the school early.
She didn't think her estimation of the man could have sunk any lower after the way he treated her in the aftermath of the exam, but then she'd read the articles in the Prophet about him.
They were all lies, lauding his efforts, crediting him with shutting down the portal, and saving everyone. But none of it was true.
She had seen how Harry took down the golem against impossible odds first hand, pulling off miracle after miracle that she still couldn't explain. He was still in St. Mungos, heavily injured, while Albus suffered nothing more than a few bruises and a case of magical exhaustion. It simply didn't add up.
She had re-read the articles carefully, and while Albus never endorsed anything the Prophet said, or even gave them so much as an interview, she could read between the lines well enough.
He never came forward to set the record straight, allowing everyone to believe the narrative the Prophet set, his reputation growing by leaps and bonds with each article the Prophet printed.
She looked down at the students, her eyes softening as she spotted Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, and Ron Weasley all huddled together, talking amongst themselves.
They had been there at the final battle, and would know the truth, but what struck her as odd was the fact that none of them had been interviewed by the Prophet, or even so much as asked for their version of events, further raising her hackles as she resolved to cancel her subscription to the Prophet.
***
Albus sat in his office stroking his beard, deep in thought. The return to the school had been fraught with tension, and not just from the students, but from his own professors as well.
Despite the rough start, he knew it was the right decision. His students needed a sense of normalcy after everything that happened, and they would only have that by returning to Hogwarts and finishing out the rest of the school year.
He thought back to his youth, to Gellert. Even during the height of the war, Hogwarts stood proudly as the safest place in Britain, and while the castle's reputation was indeed wounded, it was not beyond repair.
Time as it always did, healed all wounds, and over the next few years it would simply become an unpleasant memory, then forgotten entirely after the now first years graduated.
His thoughts then drifted to the many tasks that lay ahead of him. Hogwarts was still heavily damaged. Even after selling the recently donated school brooms, it had only been enough to effect minor repairs inside the castle, and to the school grounds.
His initial plan had been to effect the repairs himself with the elder wand. A suitable show of power and skill for the students, affirming his reputation with them, but his wand still refused to cooperate.
He looked down at his wand with a sigh. He had used it sporadically throughout the week, and it was still giving him no end of problems. His spells were underpowered, and that was when he could even get it to work at all.
With all of the magic infused within the castle reparo charms cast with ordinary wands had little to no effect, requiring craftsman to be hired at an exorbitant cost.
He would need to raise more funds, which meant reaching out to the pureblood families for donations, a difficult prospect made even more difficult with the loss of Evergreen.
It would take decades to rebuild his income stream, and even then, it would only be a shadow of its former self. He would need something new, something bold, to rebuild what he had lost.
There were also the empty seats at the Professor's table that needed to be addressed. Kettleburn, Green, and Trelawney would need to be replaced, and he had until September to do it, and that didn't even count Quirrell, who made it no secret that he intended to leave at the end of the school year.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. To hang onto his muggle studies professor, he would need something to capture his interest, but he still wasn't sure what. He knew it would come to him in time, but it made his task no less difficult in the present.
He had also tried going to St. Mungos to carry out his plan with a spare wand earlier in the week, but was unprepared for the heavy Auror presence he found. 'Why would they need ten Aurors to guard a single child?' he wondered.
Spare wand or not, he stood no chance against all of them, and had to quickly abort his plan, telling them he was there to check on his student.
With a subtle reminder of his standing and position, they eventually allowed him to see the boy, but with three aurors standing in the room with him he couldn't risk eliminating the boy.
His only saving grace had been Harry's deteriorating condition. From what the healers told him, the boy only had a matter of days left before he went on to the next great adventure, and based on how pale he was and how serious his injuries were, he had to agree with their assessment.
He could only hope with Harry's passing, the Elder Wand's allegiance returned to him, the last living wielder of the wand.
He looked up, hearing a knock on the door, remembering that he had a meeting with his professors. "Enter," he called, leaning back in his chair, watching as Severus, Minerva, Pomona, Filius, and Quirinus walked in.
"Please," Albus said, waving to the chairs in front of him with a practiced smile. "Have a seat. We have much to discuss."
"Albus," Minerva said, sitting down heavily in her chair. "This is a bad idea. The students aren't ready to come back. It isn't too late. We can still send them home, and have them come back in September, once we have a better handle on things here."
"Minerva," Albus said, shaking his head, tired of having this argument over and over again with her. "We've discussed this already. I assure you, the last thing the children need is to be cooped up at home, dwelling on what happened, and what they can not change. The healthiest thing for everyone is to move forward."
Minerva visibly sighed. When speaking to Dumbledore, it felt more and more like she was speaking to a brick wall. The only opinion he seemed to care about now was his own.
Albus raised an eyebrow at Minerva's casual display of insubordination. It had never happened while she was his deputy, and he felt sooner, rather than later, he would have to lay down the law with her.
"Have there been any incidents? Any fighting? Disagreements?" Albus asked. "I imagine some students, particularly the younger ones, are having trouble settling back in."
"No," Filius shook his head, rubbing his prosthetic, still feeling phantom pains despite knowing here was nothing left below his knee. "If anything, it's the opposite. The students are more united than I've ever seen them, comforting, and helping each other, regardless of house affiliation."
"See, there you have it," Albus said with a wide smile. "The students have, as always, found the silver lining to even the most tragic of circumstances."
Minerva bit her tongue, looking away, furious at Dumbledore's words. This is what he took away from this tragedy? It was enough to make her blood boil.
She knew in that moment that for all of Dumbledore's lofty words about the children's wellbeing being his greatest concern, and his job of Headmaster being the most important of his many titles, they were all lies.
This was all just a means to an end for him. She didn't understand his goals, and the more she talked to him, the less she wanted to know.
"Albus?" Pomona asked, broaching the subject many of her fellow professors had been wondering. "I saw the repairs to the school. Where did the money come from for that?" She asked, knowing how tight the budget was and how difficult it was to get additional funding, even at the best of times.
"A necessary sacrifice," Albus replied, effecting an aura of resigned acceptance. "I've sold the school brooms to pay for the repairs. Going forward, flying lessons will be an elective course, requiring the students to provide their own brooms."
"What?!" Minerva demanded, her eyes widening in outrage as she shot out of her chair. "You had no right to do that! Harry Potter and the Nimbus Company donated those brooms for the betterment of the students, not for you to sell off on a whim!"
"Minerva," Albus said, looking up at his Transfiguration professor, an edge in his voice. "I will not mince words with you. While I care deeply about your opinion, I will not stand for your insubordination. The decision was mine to make, and I made it. The repairs to the school are far more important. If you can not accept that, perhaps you should find other employment."
Minerva felt her face flush with anger. While she was no longer the head of Gryffindor, she never stopped considering it her house, and Harry was one of hers. He sacrificed everything to save them, and here Albus was, erasing his contribution, his generosity, his very legacy, just like the Prophet was doing.
She stood up abruptly, her chair scrapping across the floor as she sent one last glare at Albus before storming out.
She couldn't leave, she couldn't retire as she'd planned to do. Albus no longer cared for the wellbeing of the students, if he ever did. She had to stay and make sure the children's best interests were safeguarded.
Severus watched Minerva leave silently. These last few weeks had given him a lot of time to think. The wizarding world was changing. Everything was teetering on a knife's edge.
On the one side, there were the ruling families who had a stranglehold over British society for centuries, doing what they pleased with little to no repercussions. On the other, stood a growing discontent with the status quo, a call for accountability, and fair representation.
It hadn't coalesced into a movement, not yet. It was still far too early for that, but change was coming. He could feel it in his bones.
He looked at Albus, really looked at him for the first time in a long time. He would always be grateful to the man who saved him from Azkaban, whose words and actions protected him from the mistakes he'd made in his youth.
For that, he would always be loyal to the man, but despite that, he couldn't bring himself to defend his action now.
Albus sent a glare at Minerva's back as he watched her leave. Just a year ago, she wouldn't have even dreamed of questioning his decisions, especially as brazenly as she did just now, but he was at a loss on what to do exactly.
Transfiguration prodigies of Minerva's caliber were rare, and replacing her would be difficult, near impossible, especially now with all the vacant seats he had left to fill.
"On that note," Albus said dryly to the rest of his staff. "I will adjourn this meeting. Quirinus, if you would," he asked, looking at his Muggle Studies Professor. "I would like to discuss something of importance with you."
Quirinus nodded, sitting back down as his fellow professors left. "What would like to discuss, Headmaster?" He asked, already having an idea about what this discussion would be about, and prepared himself mentally to reject whatever the headmaster offered.
"I'm told you're considering leaving Hogwarts," Albus said bluntly, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.
"Yes," Quirinus replied, nodding his head. "I was planning on waiting a few more days until after the students get settled in before informing you, but this will be my last year at Hogwarts."
"I see," Albus replied, tapping his fingers on his desk. "May I inquire why? You have been a professor here for more than a decade, and the students need you now more than ever."
"No," Quirinus shook his head, feeling another wave of shame over his failings. "The students needed a professor that could protect them. I failed to do so."
"You are too hard on yourself," Albus replied with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. "None of the students blame you for what happened. Surely you see that."
"No, they don't," Quirinus replied evenly. "Not out loud at any rate, but I see the looks in their eyes. They know I failed them."
"You are the Muggle Studies Professor," Albus pointed out. "I did not hire you for your dueling experience. This is a mistake, Quirinus, one I think you will come to regret in time."
Quirinus sighed deeply. "I can't even look my students in the eye anymore," he confessed. "How can I possibly teach them if they no longer respect me?"
"Respect is multi-faceted," Albus replied, considering what he had to do to get the man to stay on, at least for another year. "I won't deny that a part of it is due to magical prowess, but it is not the only thing. I have faith that you will rise to the occasion."
"That makes one of us," Quirinus replied glibly. "Let's face it, Headmaster. I lack the skills to defend the students. Perhaps a few years ago that didn't matter, but it does now. Hogwarts has changed. The wizarding world has changed. A Muggle Studies Professor that failed so throughly at defending his students has no place here."
"…Perhaps you're right," Albus said, getting an idea. "You need to re-earn the student's respect, show them how capable you truly are, show them it is unfair to judge you based on a single moment of a single day."
"And how do you propose I do that, Headmaster?" Quirinus sighed.
"I don't want you to return as the Muggle Studies Professor next term," Albus replied. "I want you to return as the DADA Professor."
"The Defense Professor?" Quirinus asked, his eyes widening, thinking he misheard the Headmaster.
"Yes," Albus replied smiling. "You will teach them to defend themselves. You will teach them about dangerous magical creatures, and how to ward them off."
"…I don't. I mean, I've never," Quirinus stuttered. "I wasn't exactly the best DADA student. I don't-"
"Quirinus," Albus said, interrupting him. "I think what recent events have taught us, above all, is that we must all grow together and as individuals. I know you are capable of this. You will have the summer to prepare, to learn the syllabus, to prepare a lesson plan. I need you. The students need you."
"I…" Quirinus trailed off, seeing the determined expression on the Headmaster's face, feeling something shift inside of him. "…I won't let you down."
"Good," Albus smiled. "I never doubted you, or your commitment to the students for a second. We'll talk more during the summer holidays. You will be prepared by September, I can assure you of that."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Quirinus replied gratefully as he stood up from his chair with a renewed vigor that he hadn't felt in years.
Albus nodded his head, watching Quirinus leave. When the door closed behind him, he let out a relieved breath. 'There,' he thought, congratulating himself. That was at least one problem solved.
He let out a chuckle, thinking for a moment he had laid it on a little too thick and Quirinus would see through it, but it turned out to be exactly what he needed to do.
None of them truly understood, the professors and students alike, that recent events, while shocking and disastrous, were exceedingly rare, and not something that needed to be dwelled upon for too long.
Such things did not happen every day, and in time, when they calmed themselves, and thought rationally they would all realize that.
The truth of it was DADA wasn't as paramount a subject as its reputation indicated. It was a watered down subject that mostly taught students how to avoid unfriendly spells, not fight wars, or battle dark lords. They learned such things outside of Hogwarts, and mostly for those that chose the auror track.
He had not even learned anything of note at his time at Hogwarts, much of that came afterwards, during his apprenticeship with the Flamel's.
He snorted, amused at the idea of Quirinus becoming anything more than the weak willed and easily manipulated man he was.
DADA was a core subject in name only. It simply required a warm body to read from the textbook, and demonstrate a few spells, nothing more.
Quirinus's true value was in his loyalty to him, but he couldn't simply tell him that, not if he wanted the man to stay on for another year.
***
"Its weird being back," Hermione said as she and Ron walked to the great hall for breakfast. "I keep expecting someone to jump out and attack us around every corner."
Ron nodded his head in agreement. "I know. Neville, Dean, Seamus and I took turns keeping watch last night. I know we're probably just being paranoid, but none of us could sleep otherwise."
Hermione nodded sympathetically. "I wish we thought of that. Parvati, Fay, and I were jumping out of bed every time we heard a noise."
"It's going to get better, right?" Ron asked as they rounded a corner.
"I hope so," Hermione replied, only to stop when she heard a scratching noise. Before she even realized it, she had her wand out and pointed in front of her.
"It's coming from over there," Ron said, his own wand raised as he pointed at a door. "What do you think? Check it out?"
Hermione nodded as they carefully made their way to the door. Hermione pushed the door open a crack, peering inside, then breathed a sigh of relief as she saw who it was.
She pushed open the door the rest of the way, revealing Mrs. Norris. She was in exactly the same spot she found her in the last time. "Wait here, Ron," she whispered.
Mrs. Norris quickly turned around, letting out a hiss, but Hermione ignored it, moving to sit down beside the cat. It was staring at a spot on the floor. A few drops of blood remained, Filch's blood.
Mrs. Norris hissed one more time at Hermione before her shoulders visibly slumped and she pawed at the bloodstain on the floor, looking up at her.
Hermione sighed sadly, seeing the state Mrs. Norris was in, still deeply mourning its former owner. "It's going to be ok," she said softly, reaching out to pet her.
Mrs. Norris let out a pitiful meow, but did nothing to stop Hermione as she allowed the human to pet her.
Hermione felt tears well up in her own eyes as she gently lifted the cat into her arms, snuggling it. While she would never call herself friendly with Filch, she could see that Mrs. Norris had been devoted to him, and that devotion had clearly gone both ways.
"You must be hungry," Hermione said, scratching the top of Mrs. Norris's head the way she'd seen Filch occasionally do.
She didn't like the idea of Mrs. Norris wandering the halls of the castle with no one there to take care of her. "Would you like to come with me and Ron?" she asked. "We're going to the great hall for breakfast."
Mrs. Norris's ears perked up at the mention of food, nodding her head in agreement.
Hermione smiled, standing up with the cat in her arms. "Come on Ron, let's go."
"Right," Ron agreed, looking back on forth between Hermione and Mrs. Norris for a long moment before they made their way to the great hall, sitting down at the Gryffindor table.
Hermione could see the odd looks her classmates gave her as she sat down with Mrs. Norris in her arms, but ignored them.
She poured some milk into a saucer, placing it on the ground along with a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages. "I know this is probably not what you're used to," Hermione said, looking down at Mrs. Norris. "But I hope it will be ok until I can find out what you like."
Mrs. Norris meowed softly before digging into the sausages.
"The poor dear," Hermione said sympathetically. "I can't imagine what she's been eating with everyone gone."
Ron nodded, eating his own breakfast. "Probably whatever rodents she could find."
"Classes start again tomorrow," Hermione said, changing the subject. "I don't know how the Professors are going to manage with…"
"I know," Ron interrupted. "We're going to have a lot of free periods between now and the end of the year."
Hermione looked up sharply as she heard a commotion at the end of the table, her breakfast forgotten.
"You know what, George?" Fred snarled. "I've had it with you! You've done nothing but pick fights with me since we you came back from St. Mungos, and I'm sick of it," he growled, shoving George hard. "Whatever your problem is, I officially don't give a shit anymore."
"Watch it," George glared at his brother, shoving him back just as hard.
"Or what?" Fred hissed. "You gonna take a swing at me? Come on, I dare you!"
"ENOUGH!" Ron shouted, getting in between his brothers, pulling them apart for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Stay out of this, little brother," Fred growled. "This has been a long time coming."
"NO!" Ron shouted back, just as angry as he finally reached his breaking point with them. "All you two do is fight now, and I'm sick of it! You think you two are the ones going through something?! Look around you, we're all dealing with it," he hissed. "The only difference is the two of you are screaming at each other like children!"
"You know damn well what's he's been like," Fred shouted, pointing at angry finger George. "What the hell did I do to you, huh?!"
George sent an icy glare at Fred, but said nothing as he stomped out of the great hall.
"God damn it," Ron muttered, going back to his seat. If it wasn't bad enough that his brothers had another blowout, it was in front of the entire school this time.
He glanced up at the teacher's table, seeing the look of concern on Professor Mcgonagall's face, and let out an audible sigh, knowing that he and his family had just put one more thing on the Professor's plate.
Gryffindor house no longer had an official head of house, but Professor McGonagall had stepped back into the role, at least temporarily, scheduling a meeting with each of them to make sure they were adjusting, and that was on top of all her other duties.
"Ron," Neville asked quietly. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," Ron replied, pushing away his plate, no longer having an appetite.
"I'm sorry," Neville muttered, looking down as he felt another stab of guilt.
"What? Why?" Ron asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"I should have done more to help," Neville replied. "If I hadn't gone down so early in the fight, maybe I could hav-"
"Neville, stop," Hermione said, patting his arm. "Don't do this to yourself. They broke your leg in three places with that curse. You would have bled out if you tried to move."
"Harry trained me," Neville replied. "I let him down. I was useless in that fight," he said, shaking his head.
"Neville," Ron said quietly. "Believe me when I tell you this. I saw this thing all the way to the end, so did Hermione, and Draco, and they'll tell you the same. There was no prize at the end of this. It was cold, it was brutal, and it was terrifying. I don't feel any better about myself. My injuries didn't hurt any less, and I didn't end up with any less nightmares than you, probably more if I'm being honest."
"So much of it was just blind luck," Ron continued, the great hall going silent at his words. "It could have just as easily been me with the broken leg, or worse. We survived. That's the important thing."
Neville could only nod, his shoulders slumping. He could hear the truth in Ron's words, but wasn't ready to believe it. He could have done more, should have done more. He let down his friends, and he wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself for that.
***
Harry squinted his eyes, letting out a groan as he finally woke up, turning his head so that he didn't have to look up at the bright lights. He hurt everywhere. Even after spending the last few days repairing his injuries, he obviously still had a long way to go.
"Mr. Potter," a voice said quietly, startling him
Harry turned his head sharply. He hadn't even sensed there was someone in the room with him, and with so many of his magical pathways fried, it would be some time before he could do so again.
"Sorry," the voice said contritely. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Who are you?" Harry demanded, staring at the man. He looked familiar, but he couldn't place him.
"Gawain Robards," the voice replied. "You probably don't remember me, but I was there with you at the battle."
"Gawain," Harry repeated softly, remembering the Auror now. 'Why did it take so long to remember?' he thought, confused.
Merlin told him he had a photographic memory. He shouldn't have been able to forget him at all.
"You're still badly injured," Merlin supplied.
"Even my memory recall?" Harry thought, confused. Nimue had told him it came from the ability to commune with his past incarnations.
"It's all connected, Harry," Merlin reminded him. "Mind, body, and magic. What you did, what we did," he corrected himself. "it wasn't just limited to your body and your magic."
"Mr. Potter," Gawain said. "I've sent an Auror to get Cornelius Fudge. He asked to be contacted when you woke up."
Harry nodded. "That's fine. Where's everyone else?" He asked curiously.
"Everyone else was discharged a few days ago," Gawain explained.
Harry was about to reply when he felt a weight in his hand. It was metal, and cool to the touch. He knew immediately what it was, the new hollow, but more than that, it was proof that his meeting with Death wasn't just a fever dream. She was real, and so was everything else she told him.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Gawain asked, seeing the odd look on the boy's face. "I can ask the healers to come check on you if you'd like," he offered.
"No, no, I'm fine," Harry replied, quickly schooling his features. "Just surprised I've been out for so long," he said, closing his fingers around the key.
Gawain nodded sympathetically. "You saved a lot of lives that day, Mr. Potter, mine included. Thank you," he said gratefully.
Before Harry could reply, the door opened, and Cornelius Fudge walked in, a relieved smile on his face. "Robards, would you mind giving me some time alone with Harry?" he asked.
"Of course, sir," Gawain nodded. "If you need anything, I will be right outside," he said, closing the door behind him.
"Harry," Cornelius said warmly, sitting down beside Harry's bed. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive."
"It's good to be alive," Harry replied honestly. When everything went dark, he hadn't expected to live through it.
"The healers worked on you for days," Cornelius revealed. "The bones in your hands, arms, legs, and feet were fractured, torn ligaments, internal bleeding, bruises on over 60% of your body, and those are just the injuries I can remember off the top of my head. You have a lot of people worried, myself included."
"I'm sorry," Harry replied. "I wasn't really thinking about that at the time."
"I know," Cornelius said, patting Harry's arm. "What's even more surprising is how quickly these injuries of yours seem to be healing all of a sudden. The healers didn't think you were going to make it until late last night. It's a miracle," he breathed.
Harry could only nod, not sure how much of what really happened he could reveal.
"You're still in bad shape though, so don't think you can go off slaying dragons anytime soon," Cornelius joked.
"I won't," Harry replied, cracking a smile.
"…Harry," Cornelius said, getting serious again. "Despite how worried I am for you, I want you to know something. I'm proud of you, proud of the man you're becoming."
Harry could only nod, feeling his eyes well up, suddenly struck by Cornelius's words. No one had ever said that to him, not ever.
"My wife, Isabel," Cornelius continued wistfully. "She always wanted to have children. I wanted to wait," he said with a sad smile. "My career was just getting started, and I didn't think I would have time to be a father. I always told her…," he said, his breath hitching in his throat. "We'll have time later. It's my greatest regret," he admitted. "I think a lot about that now, what could have been, what my children would have been like, and invariably I end up thinking about you. Your kindness, your generosity, your selflessness."
"Cornelius… I," Harry said, getting choked up.
"No," Cornelius interrupted. "You don't have to say anything, but I want you to know, any man, any real man," he clarified. "Would be exceedingly proud to call you their son," he added.
Harry could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. He had spent his entire life being told he wasn't good enough. He knew intellectually it wasn't true, especially after everything he had been through, but it still affected him deeply to hear the words from someone he respected as much as Cornelius Fudge.
The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence as they both considered Cornelius's words, lost in their own thoughts.
"Am I keeping you from anything?" Harry finally asked. "I know you're busy running the Ministry, and probably still dealing with the fallout. If you have to go, I understand," he said, worried about taking up so much of his time.
"Actually," Cornelius admitted. "I have more free time than I know what to do with at the moment. The Wizengamot sacked me."
"What?!" Harry demanded, sitting up in bed outraged.
"Easy Harry," Cornelius said, pushing him back down. "They've been looking for a way to get rid of me for years. This was too tempting for them to pass up."
"What?" Harry asked, confused and angry. "After everything that happened at Hogwarts, and the Alumni? How could they possibly justify this?"
"The goblins," Cornelius explained. "I asked Amelia to tell the Wizengamot that it was me that asked them for their help, granting them permission to bring a squad above ground."
"No," Harry shook his head. "That was m-"
"No Harry," Cornelius interrupted firmly. "It was me, and that is what you're going to tell them when they ask you about it."
"Why?" Harry asked, confused. He knew how much being Minister meant for Cornelius. Why would he throw himself on the sword like that?
"I had a choice to make, Harry, and in the end it wasn't even a hard one. The Wizengamot needed a scapegoat, someone to blame, so that they didn't have to take responsibility for what happened. That was always going to be me," Cornelius replied.
"I don't understand," Harry admitted. "Why did it have to be you? Why not me?"
Cornelius sighed, thinking about how to explain it all. "The Wizengamot, they have been running things for a long time. We're supposed to have three separate branches of government, but in practice it's anything but. It's been this way for as long as anyone can remember, and if they have their way, nothing will ever change."
"I thought for a long time that I could chip away at their power base, and with time return the power to the people, but I was wrong. The change can't come from within. It has to come from someone outside the corruption, someone that can galvanize the people, shake them out of their complacency, someone that can build something new. That person is you, Harry."
"Me?" Harry asked, his eyes widening. "No," he shook his head. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
"Keep doing what you're doing. Keep helping people, keep standing up for what's right," Cornelius replied. "That's how you'll beat them, by showing us a better way."
"No one expects you to do it right away," Cornelius added quickly, seeing the look on Harry's face. "Focus on your recovery, that's the important thing right now."
Harry could only nod as he considered Cornelius's words. The Wizengamot hadn't even bothered to help when Hogwarts was under attack, willingly turning a blind eye to everything that happened, but even then he had no idea how to remove them from power, or even what to replace them with.
"What happened to Tonks?" Harry asked, changing topics. "She said the Unspeakables would be there to help, but they never showed up."
"Actually, they did," Cornelius revealed. "They disguised themselves as Aurors and showed up at the end of the battle. They… they took everything."
"Everything?" Harry asked, alarmed. "The Darkhold too?"
Cornelius nodded, "Everything. They also fled the Ministry, taking everything from the Department of Mysteries with them, including Merlin's vault. No one even knows where they are."
Harry sighed heavily. He couldn't believe that Tonks had betrayed them. "What about Ted?" he asked. "Did he know anything about this?"
"As far as I can tell, no," Cornelius replied. "He was just as surprised as I was when I told him."
"What's being done to track them down?" Harry asked.
"Most likely nothing," Cornelius replied. "The Wizengamot is afraid of this getting out, and are doing everything they can to keep it under wraps so the blame doesn't fall back on them. They even threatened me with Azkaban if I talk about it."
Harry sighed heavily. With the Darkhold still out there, there was no telling what the Unspeakables could do with it, or how many more people got hurt because of it.
"Get some rest Harry," Cornelius said, standing up as Gawain came to the door. "My time's up. I won't be able to visit you again here, but I'll get back in touch with you once you're out of St. Mungos."
"Why?" Harry asked curiously. "What's going on?" He asked, looking back and forth between Gawain and Cornelius.
"The Wizengamot doesn't want me talking to you," Cornelius explained. "My guess is they're going to send my replacement to have a chat with you. You're going to have to play along with them, at least for now."
"…Then how?" Harry asked, wondering how Cornelius was here in the first place.
"I called in a lot of favors," Cornelius revealed. "All of them, in fact, and before you say it," he said, seeing the look in Harry's eyes. "Yes, it was worth it," he said, walking past Gawain.
Harry watched Cornelius leave, his eyes drooping as as he felt a sudden wave of exhaustion set in. He felt like he ran a marathon, and all he had done was talk for a few minutes, and before he knew it, he was asleep again.
***
Hi! Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. There's a lot going on, with the students and professors dealing with the aftermath of the battle, Dumbledore beginning to lose control over his staff, and Harry waking up, at least briefly.
What did you think of the chapter? Please take the time to review, and let me know how its going.
If you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 76, 77, 78 and the Epilogue of Legacy of Merlin, along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.