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A flash of green light. The thud of a body falling to the floor…

Harry woke up, drawing in breath sharply as he sat up in his bed. The nightmares were getting better, at least enough for him to last without the Dreamless Sleep potion, but they were there nonetheless.

He glanced at the window; the light of the early morning was seeping in through the curtains. A glance at his bedside clock told him that it was only half past four. The sun would not be rising for another half an hour, but the light was already increasing. Harry found that he did not want to remain in bed any longer; he would not risk the nightmares returning to him again that night and so he slipped out from beneath the sheets and robed himself with a wave of his wand.

The house was perfectly silent except for the barely audible padding of his feet across the carpeted landing. All the bedroom doors around him were closed and their occupants would be sleeping. Many of them were haunted by the events of that night and few were able to even comprehend that Dumbledore had died at first but if that was hard to take in, it was harder still to understand that Voldemort had gone for good.

Harry remembered it as if it was yesterday, although the truth was that it had occurred only one week earlier. Dumbledore had fallen, hit by the curse meant for him as he was pushed in the way of it by Snape. He was not certain of the chain of events which had caused the Potions master to stagger into Dumbledore, but he knew Snape had not simply pushed him. That much had been strongly stated by Mad Eye soon after. After Dumbledore had died Harry could barely describe what happened, but he tried to do so for Ron, Hermione and Remus later on. He felt strange, almost empty and he stared at Voldemort with a cold glare and simply cast the killing curse. He did not know that emptiness was the way Voldemort had felt his entire life, but as soon as the feeling had gone it was over along with the fear of Voldemort which had weighed on his chest. Then it had become worse.

All the Death Eaters had been tied to Voldemort by the Dark Mark. Tom had ensured that should he die then his followers would suffer the same fate and it was a lucky twist that Voldemort had seen fit to remove the Mark from Severus some time previous to the event of his death. Of course Severus had pointed out to him during their first visit into Azkaban that only those bearing the Dark Mark could open any of the doors, hence the reasoning behind the removal of the Mark on his arm. Those who still bore it at the time of Voldemort’s death suffered a most painful fate. The Mark began to consume them.

Harry wasn’t quite aware of the details, having blacked out shortly after the ordeal began but he had been conscious when the Death Eaters began to writhe and scream as one. Their left arm began to shrink as the Mark consumed them and Harry’s vision blurred before everything went black.

He shook his head slightly to dispel the unpleasant thoughts as he crept down the stairs and into the hallway. He glanced almost automatically at the place where the portrait of Sirius’ mother had been. Sirius. God, he hadn’t thought about him in a very long time, but then he had been quite busy recently. It was strange to think that he had been gone more than a year now, and yet he still felt his loss. Remus had assured him at some point that his loss would always remain with him, although over time the sharp pain would fade until it was merely an ache coupled with pleasant memories. Harry wasn’t quite there yet, but it no longer hurt him as it had.

The kitchen was filled with the morning light which was a strange, orangey colour and seemed very unnatural. Harry walked inside, glancing into the fridge, although he was not hungry, before shutting the door again and wandering over to the window. From there he could look over the entire garden which was the most bizarre labyrinthine contraption he had ever encountered, and then after that was the field upon which he spent many an hour playing Quidditch. Between the garden and the field was a wall, and upon that wall sat Remus Lupin.

It was very early, but it wasn’t uncommon for either of them to be up at such an hour; neither of them chose the possibility of more nightmares over rising early and watching the sunrise. The sun was strange to see after being trapped in Azkaban so long and it was always a pleasant feeling to watch it rise over the horizon, alone or with someone else.

Harry smiled at the lone figure of his godfather sat on the wall and stepped out of the backdoor into the brightening daylight to join him. He walked slowly through the garden, taking his time. He could easily have Apparated, but he saw no reason to and he found himself preferring the Muggle ways more than the Wizarding most of the time.

Remus stared out at the Quidditch field and beyond, his eyes occasionally wandering back to the horizon, waiting for the sun to rise. He had heard Harry shutting the door as he left the house and he knew that it was he; anyone else would have Apparated down to him. As his footsteps became louder as the distance between them became smaller, Remus turned to him and smiled slightly.

“Good morning,” Harry managed through a yawn as he sat down next to Remus on the wall.

“I trust you couldn’t sleep,” Remus said. There was no need to ask; it had been common for Harry to wake with nightmares before they had been to Azkaban, after their return it would have been strange had he not. “Which also means you’ve declined Dreamless Sleep from Severus…”

“It’s not as bad as it was,” Harry told him, “and now that I’m not taking it I can begin to recover.” Remus nodded. Harry could be quite wise at times, where as Ron was still drinking as much of the potion as he could, despite warnings from Severus.

“Speaking of recovery, how are you faring?” Harry rolled his eyes slightly. Every day Remus asked him how he was getting on with his recovery and every day his answer would be the same.

“It’s getting better… I’m still quite exhausted though, how are you?” Harry asked, changing the subject of the conversation towards someone other than himself. Remus smiled, not bothering to change the topic away from himself, at least until he’d answered his question.

“Better, I think. Poppy insists I should be in bed because I’m ‘far too old to be gallivanting around with such injuries’! It’s only a sprained wrist!” Remus sighed. “I don’t know how I got it either. I must have twisted it when I caught Severus,” he said more to himself as an afterthought.

“You caught Snape? I’d have let him fall on his face,” Harry muttered and Remus tutted.

“Well that’s you all over isn’t it? Say you’ll do one thing but if you were in the situation yourself you would have caught him,” Remus told him plainly. “Oh, I saw Hermione yesterday evening. She’s doing quite well, although she’s still furious with Ron.”

“I don’t blame her!” Harry laughed. Hermione had done a valiant job of preventing Ron from entering the prison again, right up until the end. They had been peering in through the doorway, although not quite going back inside and they had seen Dumbledore fall and Harry kill Voldemort. Ron tried to run inside and Hermione threw herself forwards, grabbing onto him tightly. Naturally that had not gone down well.

One week later Hermione was in Hogwarts hospital wing recovering from a mixture of hexes. It was probably as well that she had been forced to stay in such care for so long however; she needed the time to cool down or Ron would end up rather lacking in life when she was done with him.

“It’s strange without Dumbledore around,” Harry said eventually, after a minute of silence had worn out. “I mean when bad things happened you always ran to him for help.”

“But bad things usually involved Voldemort, saving the world and so on, and now you don’t have to worry about any of those things,” Remus said and smiled as he looked out at the fields they could see ahead of them. The Quidditch pitch was fading slightly from lack of use but it could probably be charmed again, if only to hold up the last of Filius’ large Charms undertaking.

“True,” Harry agreed, “but it still seems strange thinking of Minerva as headmistress.” He stared ahead at the horizon as he swung his legs against the wall and then asked, “Did you take anything from Filius’ office?”

“No, I let it all be. Did you?” Remus asked him but Harry shook his head.

Filius had always been one to experiment with the various charms he had been taught; he tried various mixtures of them, adding spells to others and taking away parts from well known incantations. He loved to charm anything and everything around him so, as a result, everything in his office had been charmed. Even the ink he used, and the quills he used to write with, upon charmed parchment, kept in a charmed desk. None of it was real. Over time all the charms would fade and eventually everything which had been his would just disappear from existence. It would have been as if he had never existed.

“But he’ll always live on in our hearts, even if not with material possessions,” Minerva had said and at the time it had seemed quite the clichéd and corny thing to say, and yet Harry found himself agreeing with her. Naturally he would never admit that to anyone but Minerva, as everyone at the time had burst into laughter at her words, despite the sombre mood at the time.

Ginny and Arthur had left some more material possessions in their departure but only the Weasleys had taken any of their things, and Molly appeared to be keeping everything they had ever owned. Harry had found her sobbing two days after Voldemort’s death over Arthur’s charmed lawnmower and, seeing as all the other Weasleys had been still in the hospital wing at the time, he had been the one to comfort her. Harry had now found that comforting people was really not his forte, but he tried all the same.

“I wonder what the Prophet will say today,” Remus said with a tone of amusement in his voice after another comfortable silence wore out.

“Oh shut up,” Harry scowled at him, although a slight smile formed on his lips. “It won’t say anything… Or at least it better not.”

For the past week the Daily Prophet had been printing every single bit of news that they could find concerning Voldemort’s downfall, Dumbledore’s death and Harry’s killing. Once all that had been covered then it had been coverage of the people who had valiantly died in battle, all of whom had been Aurors, then of the cruel imprisonment of the Order. The day before, they had clearly run out of material to print and had essentially just printed praise for Harry and a short biography for him. He had not been pleased by that, although everyone else had laughed long and hard.

“Still, at least it can praise you incessantly now that Fudge has gone,” Remus said, biting back a laugh in remembrance of some of the things the paper had been saying about Harry. “Minerva kept a copy of the Prophet with Fudge storming into Azkaban and tripping over on the front of it. She says it will be a reminder to them in future that once they had a Minister who couldn’t even walk properly.”

“And Madam Bones still looks like she’s going to win the election so I’m happy,” Harry said. After the Wizengamot had ruled that Cornelius was no longer fit to rule as Minister of Magic, an election was scheduled to be held on 1st September.

“Naturally, there’s no way that anyone will vote for Umbridge,” said Remus as he crossed his legs beneath him. “Everyone remembers what she was like at the school and how badly she managed it. The propaganda being put round by Amelia is that if she can’t run a school for a short while then how can she manage a country? It’s not really fair to attack your opponent in such a manner but it’s working so I’m content.”

“All those impostors using the Umbridge Polyjuice Pastries didn’t help her much either,” Harry grinned. Since Fred and George’s return, they had been selling Dolores Doughnuts at half price. It was only after the Ministry had arrested no less than thirteen impersonators of the candidate for Minister that the twins were forced to take their product off the market. They had been given two days’ notice to do so however, and in that time they managed to sell their entire stock of them for just under a quarter of the original price. There was a strong suspicion that Minerva had been one of the main customers for the Polyjuice snack, but there was little evidence. Well, excepting the large amount of donuts hidden in her office, that was.

“And speaking of Polyjuice Pastries, did you know that Fred and George want to make one of you?” Remus asked and Harry stared at him in horror and disbelief.

“You are joking, right?” Harry demanded of him and Remus only laughed.

“I told them that you’d say no, but they didn’t seem particularly bothered by that piece of information and chose to ignore it entirely it seems.”

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked, suddenly wondering whether he was going to find a dozen or so copies of himself sat at the table when he went in for breakfast that morning.

“Oh, nothing,” Remus smiled, knowing that when they went in for breakfast they would almost certainly find most of the Order looking rather like Harry. “So changing the subject entirely, did Minerva tell you that Sybil wants to speak to you?”

“Now you’re not being serious…” Harry said flatly. “Why the hell would she want to talk to me?”

“Harry, the entire Wizarding world wants to talk to you,” Remus grinned but Harry merely glared at him and waited for him to continue. “And Sybil wants to congratulate you on completing the prophecy which she Saw.”

“I vowed after I took my OWL in Divination that I would never set foot in that god-awful tower or go within a three metre radius of that nutcase ever again, I do not intend to break that oath in order to be congratulated,” Harry told him. “And I cannot believe that Minerva hired her again! They could have used her tower as—”

“—a tribute to you perhaps?” Remus suggested.

“No, just something which isn’t for Divination!” Harry scowled.

“Well if it makes you feel any better I’m certain that Minerva only hired her again to use up the Trelawney Tarts she still has, and by ‘still has’ I mean ‘keeps buying’,” Remus said confidently.

“How the hell do you know this?” Harry asked him he smiled conspiratorially and stared off into the distance before he gave in and told him how he knew.

“Well she called me in to make sure I was still going to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, and before you even ask – I will be doing,” Harry smiled at this and wondered whether he was reading his mind, “and when I said that I would then she offered me one. I declined but later on I saw Sybil chasing Snape around with a crystal ball so I think you can work out who that was for yourself.”

“All right then, but how do you know she keeps buying them?” Harry asked him, determined to catch him out somehow.

“Because Fred asked if I wanted any for the year, and said that they would be making loads more because Minerva buys half their stock.” Harry looked quite put out at this; it was pretty good evidence that Minerva was indeed buying copious amounts of Trelawney Tarts, and also meant that Remus was right. If what he was saying was true, of course.

“Urgh, I can’t believe everyone is talking about school again already! We’ve only got two weeks left of the holidays now before we go back,” Harry sighed.

“I know, and so I take it that you don’t want to go back?”

“Not really. I don’t want to have to get back into the routine of lessons again, especially not Potions.”

“Well that’s quite obvious, about Potions I mean,” Remus said to him and then changed completely. “Do you still want to be an Auror?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” Harry admitted, “I mean I’ve spent the last year in particular almost obsessed about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I don’t want to spend a career chasing dark wizards like him. Besides, I’ll end up like Mad Eye.”

“You won’t end up like Mad Eye,” Remus laughed, “Although I can see where you’re coming from with the change of heart. So what do you want to do now?”

“I can honestly say I have no idea,” Harry said truthfully. It was something which was worrying him immensely, although he hadn’t been saying much about it as Ron was still going on about his desire to be an Auror and Hermione was leaning towards becoming a Healer.

“How about being a teacher?” Remus asked him and Harry rolled his eyes.

“The next person who suggests being a teacher gets hexed,” he said grimly, “I taught the D.A. for one year and all of a sudden I’m great teaching material!”

“Well to be fair everyone who took their OWLs that year did get an O in the subject,” Remus said but Harry chose to ignore him.

“Anyway, I don’t want to stay in the castle. I want to get out and do something! I just don’t know what yet…” Harry sighed and Remus smiled at him.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll figure it out. After all, you’ve got your whole life to decide and begin a career,” he said, reassuringly.

“I suppose so, and after all this with Voldemort it would be so ironic if I was run over by a bus tomorrow and killed,” Harry grinned and Remus stared at him.

“Your sense of humour worries me, you know.”

“I know, I shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Harry said to him, “but it seems so strange that I’ve got a good chance of actually living to see eighteen. I never thought I’d grow up, I thought I’d face Voldemort and that would be it. I’d die; he’d take over the world – end of story.” Remus put an arm around his shoulders and Harry smiled as he stared out at the horizon. The sky was much brighter now and the sun would be rising very soon.

“The prophecy summed it up well: neither can live whilst the over survives…” Remus said quietly and Harry nodded.

“That was very true, and now that he’s gone I feel like I can actually live. I’ve suddenly got the prospect of a relatively unthreatened life and I’ve no idea what to do in it!” Harry said and then suddenly asked, “What’s happening to the Order now?”

“What do you mean?”

“They were only together to act against Voldemort. He’s gone, so what happens now?” Harry asked him.

“Well last time everyone disbanded and went their own ways,” Remus told him and Harry felt disappointed at the idea of leaving everyone, “but last time Mad Eye decided to keep everyone on their toes by attacking one of them every day at 4 in the morning… this time I think we might all just stay together. There’s no reason for anyone to actually leave Grimmauld Place unless you tell them to.”

From the house there was a loud yell. Remus and Harry turned around to see flashes coming from inside one of the windows and a shout just reached their ears.


“Sounds like Tonks,” Harry noted and Remus nodded.

“It would appear that old habits die hard for Mad Eye, but I’m sure he’ll learn. Or people will just start locking their doors at night,” Remus smiled.

They lapsed into silence once more and Harry wondered why that kept happening. He felt like there was something unsaid between the two of them and Remus would occasionally open his mouth as if to say something, and then close it again shortly afterwards.

“I couldn’t be prouder of you, you know,” Remus said quietly, not looking at Harry but staring ahead, “and I’m sure that, were they here to see you now, your parents and Sirius would be just as proud of you.” He gave his shoulder a squeeze and Harry smiled at him.


They sat on the wall, side by side as the sun began to rise. The sky was a mixture of colours and there were no clouds in sight. Only the occasional birdsong broke the silence, or a yell from the house as Tonks fell down the stairs chasing after Alastor. The sun had risen again and a new day had dawned. For the Muggle population most of them had no idea that anything had happened at all over the last few weeks. For the Order of the Phoenix it had been the toughest times of their lives, but they had pulled through. Somehow.

The phoenix had risen from the ashes and the sun had risen again on a new day. On their new beginning.

The End

A/N: That's it folks... Short I know, but with HBP tomorrow you don't need anymore anyway! If I've accidentally left any questions hanging then don't hesitate to ask in reviews and I'll try to answer. Hope you enjoyed it :o)

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