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SIYE Time:8:51 on 28th March 2024
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In the Days That Followed
By CharmHazel

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Other, Ron Weasley, Teddy Lupin
Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 42
Summary: The final battle has been won and the war against Voldemort is finally over for good, but there is still the aftermath to battle through.
Hitcount: Story Total: 23562; Chapter Total: 3279





Author's Notes:
This is the second of my new stories and the first post-battle story I have written in quite some time. This is part of a series I have planned. Thank you to Arnel for your brilliantly editing skills and your encouraging words. (Edited - 7/8/2021)




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Harry stepped back out into the corridor, having just left the headmaster’s office. He was looking forward to getting back to the Gryffindor Tower to have a hot shower and then, hopefully, sleep for a week. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he knew he needed to move sooner rather than later if he didn’t want to collapse in the middle of the corridor.

“I want to go back to the dorm,” Harry told Ron and Hermione as the couple stepped back into the corridor. “I need a shower and my bed.”

“I think we all do, mate,” Ron replied with a forced chuckle.

Harry could tell Ron seemed torn over what he wanted to do. All three of them definitely needed to shower, eat and sleep, but he knew Ron would want to be with his family after the loss of Fred during the battle. He suspected that his best mate didn’t want to face the overwhelming grief that would come from heading back to the Great Hall.

“Let’s go back with Harry, first,” Hermione said tenderly as she grasped Ron’s hand. “Then, we can head back downstairs and see your family once you are ready.”

A faint smile appeared on Harry’s face as he watched the interaction between his two best friends. He was delighted that they had finally kissed, even if it was at the worst time imaginable. He just hoped the arguing between them would finally ease up.

“Ok, that sounds like a plan,” Ron replied quietly. “I think having a shower would make me feel a little better as it is.”

Harry could only watch as Hermione gently threaded her fingers through Ron’s and started to lead him in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. It made him wish that he had Ginny here with him to do the same thing. She was certainly the person he planned to speak to next, but only once he had slept. His body was beginning to scream out for the chance to rest and recharge.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice came, breaking him from his thoughts. “Are you coming?”

Harry nodded as he finally began to move his feet and follow his two best friends. However, with each step he took, the exhaustion, which was beginning to set in, felt more intense. They were only half-way to the tower when Harry reached out a hand to the wall to steady himself. It didn’t seem to help, so he moved over to the wall, turning as he did so he was leaning his back against it. He took several deep breaths to help him gain his bearings as his eyes struggled to remain open.

“Harry, are you ok?” he heard Hermione ask as he began to slide down the wall to sit on the floor.

“I am exhausted, Hermione,” Harry snapped, wanting to be left alone to recover enough to be able to walk back to the dorm room. “I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, I have barely eaten or drank anything, and have been hit with numerous curses. Can you blame me for not having the energy to get back to the tower?”

Harry knew he shouldn’t have snapped at his best friend like that as she glared at him for the response he had given. At that moment, though, all he cared about was making it back to the dorms, so he could climb into a comfortable bed and sleep.

“Well, at least he isn’t saying he is fine,” Ron said, causing the three of them to chuckle in response. “And all it took was for him to defeat a Dark wizard. Though, you should know, Harry, we can’t be lining up Dark wizard after Dark wizard for you constantly just to get you to say you are not fine!”

“Ronald!” Hermione screeched, not remotely amused by Ron’s last comment.

“It was just a joke, Hermione,” Harry said soothingly. “Something I needed as well. Something I am going to need a fair bit of in the coming weeks.”

Hermione huffed as she crouched down in front of him.

“Did you even bother seeing Madam Pomfrey before you dragged us up here?”

Harry flashed her a cheeky, yet tired smile before replying, “No, I didn’t. Figured she had more urgent patients to take care of than dealing with me.”

Harry could feel his eyes trying to slide close as his exhaustion began to truly overwhelm him. However, at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor towards him and his two friends, Harry’s eyes flashed open as his hand immediately went for his wand.

“It’s just Professor McGonagall, mate,” he heard his best mate say as Harry carefully watched the person march closer to them. “You can put the wand away now, you’re safe, we are all safe.”

It was not until Professor McGonagall had reached them that Harry was able to recognise her. His vision was starting to blur to the point that Harry figured it would probably be easier right now to take a nap right where he was.

“Mr Potter, what on earth are you doing sitting on the floor in the middle of the corridor?” McGonagall said with stern look on her face.

“I thought it looked like a good place to take a quick nap,” Harry said as he gave her cheeky smile.

McGonagall’s eyes softened in understanding before she turned to speak to Hermione.

“I take it, it is safe to assume Mr Potter has yet to see Madam Pomfrey or any of the Healers that have come to help, Miss Granger?”

“We were just discussing that before you arrived, Professor,” Hermione told her truthfully, much to Harry’s annoyance. “It seems he feels his needs are not as urgent as other patients, though, he has, for once, admitted he is not fine.”

The Transfiguration professor took a quick glance at where Harry remained on the floor, struggling to keep his eyes open, before appearing to come to a decision.

“The hospital wing is currently full,” McGonagall explained to Hermione and Ron. “That being said, I do believe Madam Pomfrey will not mind if Mr Potter was to be escorted to the Gryffindor dormitories to rest. If you could, please escort him up there, I will have Madam Pomfrey come and check him over for injuries.”

Ron nudged Harry in the shoulder, causing him to jerk awake.

“Come on, mate, up you get,” Ron said as he bent down to help Harry back onto his feet. “I am under orders to get you back to the dorms. I am going to follow that order because I don’t fancy facing down my mum, Ginny, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey for letting you sleep on a cold floor in the middle of the corridor.”

Harry could only nod in agreement with Ron’s words. In all honesty, he didn’t fancy facing the potential wrath of those four witches, knowing full well what all of them could do with a wand if provoked.

“It would be really good if you could try and walk, Harry,” Ron continued, not noticing the small smile that had appeared on his best friend’s face as Harry’s thoughts turned to Ginny. “I don’t think you want to be levitated back to the dorm, so the more you help me to get you back there, the quicker we can have you in bed.”

Ron helped Harry wrap an arm around his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist to keep him standing. Once Ron was happy that Harry was as steady as he could be, the two boys, along with Hermione, continued their walk back to the Gryffindor Tower.

HP&GW

Harry collapsed back onto the bed, amazed that it was still there in his former dormitory. He had expected there to be only two beds, given that neither himself, Ron nor Dean had attended Hogwarts this past year. So, he was extremely grateful to be able lay there on his own bed, resting his eyes, as a flurry of movement happened around him. However, a loud crack caused Harry to sit back up quickly and whip out his wand in defence.

“It’s ok, Harry,” Hermione’s voice came. “It’s just Kreacher.”

Harry dropped his wand, knowing his best friend would not lie to him, and was grateful to see the old house-elf stood in front of him.

“Sorry, Kreacher,” Harry muttered in embarrassment. “It’s been a really long couple of days.”

“Master is deserving of rest,” Kreacher responded. “He has finally defeated the Dark Lord. Kreacher knows Master must be tired, but he also knows Master must eat.”

Harry smiled tiredly at the old house-elf, grateful for how helpful Kreacher had become after they discovered his connection to the locket. He could see that the fake locket was still hanging around Kreacher’s neck and he also understood just how much his defeat over Voldemort meant to the house-elf.

“I could definitely do with something to eat and drink, please. Bring enough so that Ron and Hermione can join me as well. I could also do with some clean clothes, Kreacher.”

“As Master wishes,” Kreacher replied before he disappeared with a loud crack.

Just a few minutes later, Harry was devouring one of the many sandwiches that Kreacher had brought for him and his friends. Even though Fleur had provided the guests at Shell Cottage with good sized meals, this was the first meal in months that Harry felt like he could truly enjoy.

“It’s good to see you have a healthy appetite, Mr Potter.”

Harry swallowed his mouthful of food before turning to smile at Madam Pomfrey.

“It’s good to see you, too, Madam Pomfrey.”

“I would complain about having to check you over for whatever injuries you are bound to have,” she told him as she swept over to his bed and indicated for him to lie down, “but, considering you were at the centre of this battle, I am not remotely surprised.”

The matron paused for a moment, looking at Harry with a hint of pride in her eyes.

“I am very glad you are alive, Mr Potter.”

Harry blushed and ducked his head at the words. He knew he was going to have to face numerous people in the coming days, all of whom would be saying similar words to him. Right now, he didn’t particularly want to hear their words of thanks, pride or relief. Instead, he wanted to shower, sleep and figure out what his place now was in the world.

“Well, then, if you could lay back down on the bed for me,” Madam Pomfrey said, returning to a professional tone. “I’ll scan you for any injuries and heal what I can now. If you need any potions, I’ll have them sent up to you with written instructions on how much and when to take them.”

Harry nodded before laying back down and getting into a comfortable position on the bed.

“Is there any Curses that you know hit you and can name?”

Harry mumbled, knowing what was going to come next when he was forced to say it clearly.

“I am afraid I didn’t understand that, Mr Potter.”

“I was hit by the Killing Curse and Voldemort put me under the Cruciatus Curse several times,” Harry admitted quietly, making sure to close his eyes so he would not see the matron’s reaction.

No audible reaction came. The room remained silent to the point that Harry was certain he would hear a pin hit the floor if someone was to drop one.

“Considering you are the only one to survive the Killing Curse, Mr Potter,” Madame Pomfrey finally spoke, “and the fact you appear to be alive and well, I don’t think there is anything I can do for that specific Curse. Though, if you do develop any symptoms that are not connected to the aftereffects of the Cruciatus, then please let me know.”

“I will do,” Harry quietly replied, grateful for the matron’s professionalism.

“If you could strip down to your underwear to allow me to heal all your cuts and the odd fracture in your bones I have found. You may close the curtains for privacy and let me know when you are ready. I am going to make a list of what potions you will need and have Miss Granger get them from the hospital wing.”

Harry nodded his understanding. He closed the curtains around his bed, quickly stripped his clothes off and laid back down. He called to let Madame Pomfrey know that he was ready and seconds later, she was healing him. Thankfully, it did not take long, making Harry appreciate how lucky he was not to have much more severe injuries.

“I would advise having a shower before going to sleep,” she told him as she placed her wand in her pocket. “Your potions should be here by the time you have washed. I want you to rest as much as you can. Your body has been put through a lot over the last several months, especially these past twenty-four hours.”

“For once, I think I can do that,” Harry replied, giving the matron a weak smile. He could feel the aches and pains throughout his body now and he knew a good, long sleep would be the best remedy, outside of the numerous potions he guessed he would need to take.

“I’m glad to hear that, Mr Potter. Next time, if you are injured, please, do not delay seeing me or another Healer. While you have been lucky today, a delay in treatment does put you at risk for long-term consequences.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Madame Pomfrey huffed, knowing it was the best response she would get from her patient. She turned to leave, but paused for the moment, turning back to look at the boy who had saved the wizarding world.

“I will be informing Molly Weasley as well to make sure you follow the potion regimen that I am setting for you.”

With that, she turned and left the dormitory.

HP&GW

The hot water felt refreshing as it fell over Harry’s body. He had already scrubbed his body and hair clean twice and had been shocked to find dirt in places he had not expected. The only problem, now, was that he had been left alone with nothing to distract him from his thoughts.

Harry did not want to think about everything he had been through since his return to the wizarding world at the age of eleven. He didn’t want to think about his future and the need to figure out what he wanted to do with his life now there was no prophecy hanging over him. He just wanted to forget everything until he had slept enough to make him feel like a human again. However, the thoughts would not leave him alone.

The faces of those he loved and had lost flashed through his mind, reminding him of just how much he had lost because of one maniac who could not deal with the fact his Muggle father had abandoned him, and his magical mother had given up on life and passed on. He hated that he, and the whole wizarding world, had had to suffer because of one man.

Then, there were the unseen faces of those he did not know but had died in the final battle or in the past two or three years. Had he been faster would some of them not have died? Had the Minister believed him in the aftermath of the third task and Cedric’s death, would some of them been able to go into hiding sooner, saving their lives in the process? There were so many questions, so many what ifs. Yet, all Harry could think about was how it all came back to him and the job that he had been handed unwillingly. The wizarding world had relied on a seventeen-year-old to finish off a wizard with far more training and skill than he had; a job that should have been left to someone with more knowledge and training. The way Harry saw it, everything that had happened he was to blame for, at least partially.

Would the Weasleys still want him to be a part of their lives, their family? Would Ginny be open to resuming their relationship? Would Andromeda Tonks allow him to see and be involved in little Teddy’s life? Would they all blame him like he blamed himself? He didn’t know and he didn’t want to find out. He knew he would rather hide from the world than face anybody. Hopefully, he would be able to finish off in the bathroom, get back into bed and go to sleep without seeing or speaking to anyone.

Harry finally turned off the shower and grabbed the towel he had placed within easy reach. Once the towel was securely wrapped around his waist, he padded over to the sinks and took a look at himself in the mirror.

His famous lightning bolt-shaped scar was still there, clear as day for everyone to see, not that he had been expecting it to disappear following being hit with the Killing Curse again. It looked a little red, but not as bold as it had been just twenty-four hours earlier. With the removal of the Horcrux from his body, he hoped that the scar would finally settle and fade to a certain extent. Perhaps if it wasn’t as noticeable as it had been previously, then people would not immediately recognise him. Somehow, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. In all honesty, he was just grateful he did not have yet another scar to represent him being hit by and surviving the Killing Curse for a second time.

Looking further down to his chest, he was pleased to see many of the cuts and abrasions he had sustained since leaving Shell Cottage had been healed. Yet, he could see many burns and bruises that needed to be healed with the use of potions and pastes. Just looking at them reinforced how much his body had been put through physically and it left him wondering how it was that he was still standing.

How was he still standing? Why was he still standing when many others lay dead in the Great Hall? It wasn’t fair that he had been given the chance to live, even after being hit by the Killing Curse by Voldemort. The scars on his body would be a constant reminder of everything he had been through just to be able to live his life as he wanted. However, his lightning bolt scar would forever be a reminder of the fact that he had twice survived a fatal spell when no one else had.

It wasn’t fair! He should have been the one who had died. He had meant to die. Everyone else who had come to fight alongside him, but had lost their lives, should have been the ones to survive, not him. How was he meant to find happiness when the guilt and blame weighed so heavily upon him?

Harry’s anger shot to surface as he realised that he no longer wanted to look at himself, causing him to punch the mirror. The glass splintered, some of it crashing into the sink below. Harry didn’t notice what he had done, nor did he realise that his hand was bleeding badly. Instead, he collapsed to the floor as his emotions finally overwhelmed him and tears began to fall down his cheeks.

He remained unaware of the movement that suddenly appeared around him, or of the muffled voices discussing what they had found in the bathroom. His tears had blinded him to everything, and his body and mind just felt numb. He honestly didn’t care anymore. All he wanted to do now was curl up and hide from the world beyond the walls of his dormitory.

His physical and emotional exhaustion finally caught up with him and Harry could feel himself quickly fading. Just before he allowed his eyes to shut and the darkness to take him, he felt a pair of warm arms wrap around him before the sweetest voice in the world said, “It’s ok, Harry. I’m here for you.”

Then, everything went black.
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