Hogwarts lay in rubble around him as Harry stepped quickly and softly around the numerous groupings of people. People he knew, but more often, people he’d never seen before. The multitude of beings who had flocked to Hogwarts, not for learning but for battle.
A battle that was done now.
He was almost to his target, a group of three lads his age, green and silver ties askew, when he passed the body of a kid he knew. The grief was immediate and he almost stumbled. A gasp to his left propelled him forward.
He stopped in front of the three Slytherins. Movement a little behind them caught his attention. Parkins- no, Pansy sat on the ground, disheveled and with her own green and silver tie wrapped around her mouth like a gag. She glared at him. He smirked back.
A huff of a laugh had him back at attention. The boy his gaze zeroed in on was taller than him, his normally perfectly coiffed hair was loose, leaving curls flopped over his forehead. Much like Harry, his face was thinner than normal, not that he had much to spare to begin with.
“Nott.” Pale blue eyes widened.
“Po-Potter,” Theodore Nott replied.
“I’m alive,” Harry started. Both Theo and the dark skinned boy next to him snorted. “I am. And I’m glad to see you are as well.”
“Really Potter?” Zabini asked. “You walked over here to talk to a handful of Slytherins you’ve never spoken to before, to say you’re glad we’re alive?”
“Blaise,” Theo muttered.
“No, no, Zab-Blaise is correct. I am fully aware just how out of the blue this is, but…”
“Come on, Potter, you started this.” Harry glared at Blase before letting it go. He was just so tired.
“Okay, yeah, here I go. You prefer Theo right, I know I heard you say that once—Theo’s eyes widened—yes, okay, perhaps I’m a bit creepy but I swore to myself that if I survived I would stop worrying about what Ron and Mione would say, and I would tell you that I like you. A lot.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Theo’s voice rose.
“I like you. For the past three years I’ve kept an eye on you, as best as I could when all this other shit was going on,” Harry scoffed, but they hadn’t hexed him yet, so he carried on. “You’re the smartest in our year, and oh merlin does Mione hate that. You’re quiet and brilliant at potions and you never once called her that awful word—”
“Yes, yes, you’ve been stalking my best friend, Potter, that’s lovely but what do you want?” Blasie demanded.
“About a solid week of sleep. Food that I didn’t steal. A moment of peace to talk to Theo without an audience. A hug,” his voice broke, tears threatening. “I’d love a hug. But what I’m going to get is questioned by the aurors, possibly thrown in Azkaban since it seems that’s what the ministry likes to do.” The three boys, for the life of him, he could not place their third, all stared at him.
Theo and Blaise had a conversion that consisted of raised eyebrows. Harry began to sway where he stood.
“Pot-Harry. Merlin.” Thin but strong arms caught him. “You need to lay down, rest.” Theo’s voice had a worried tilt to it, and even as worn out as he was, Harry was glad for it.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled.
“What?” Theo demanded.
“I’m fine. I can stand. I only died a little.”
“Potter…” Blase choked out. “You only died a little? What does that mean?”
“Had to die, didn’t I? Stupid Riddle and his stupid horcruxes,” Harry grumbled as he settled more into Theo’s arms. Those same arms tightened around him. He loved it.
“Horcruxes,” Theo mumbled, “so that’s how—”
“Harry!” Twin voices yelled. He didn’t mean to, but he shuddered in Theo’s arms.
“Mate, why’re you with Slytherins?” Ron asked, just as Mione scolded.
“Harry, you’re not supposed to talk about that. Remember what Dumbledore said!”
“Fuck Dumbledore.” Every head in the vicinity swiveled to stare at Harry. With much reluctance, he disentangled himself from Theo, but the other boy kept a hold of his hand. Despite everything else, Harry stared at where their hands were entwined and he smiled. Or at least he did until Hermione started in on him.
“Harry! How could you say that? I know you’re angry but he was the best—”
“Hermione,” he said, hard and cold. “I know you loved the headmaster. I know you looked up to him. I did too, for a while. But I was fucking dead twenty minutes ago so if you could please stop yelling at me.”
“Mate.” Ron’s face went white. “It was a trick.”
“No. No it wasn’t. I had a horcrux in my head, and Mione, your vaulted headmaster decided long ago that the only way to kill Tom was for me to walk to my death, to kill the horcrux and kill Tom once and for all. So I did. I stood there and let him kill me.” Around him, people gasped and sobbed. It sounded like more bystanders were listening. Good , he thought, let them know the truth.
“But… if that was the only way—”
Theo interrupted her. “It’s not, though, is it?”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked sharply.
“I mean that the goblins have a way to extract a horcrux.” Theo paused for a second with all the eyes on him, but he kept going. “Decades ago when Dumbledore started pulling all the books on dark arts out of school and then out of circulation. Well, my father was an asshole but he loved books. Our library has more than one book that speaks of horcruxes.” He shuddered. “They’re truly dark, black magic. When I was a kid, I read one and I clearly remember it saying that the goblins in the Egyption branch of Gringotts had developed a ritual for them, as the damn Pharaohs had been a bit too sloppy with them.”
“Eidetic memory,” Hermione breathed out, staring at Theo who looked distinctly uncomfortable. “But, but that's cheating!”
“Hermione, for fucks sake.” Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I know you’re tired and worn like me, but come on. It’s not cheating just because his fucking brain works differently than yours.”
“You’re- you’re right, Harry. Sorry Nott.”
“We have gotten wildly off topic here,” Blaise added.
“I never thought I’d agree with a Slytherin, mate, but he's right. It’s time to rest, Harry.” Ron reached out, but Harry sidestepped his reach, landing him ever closer to Theo. “Mate?”
“Do you know why I came over here, Ron?” His best friend shook his head. “Because I like Theo. A lot. And for years I’ve been pushing that aside, mostly for good reasons. There was a madman after me, after all. But also because I knew exactly how you would react and goddammit, I am tired of this damn ‘Slytherins are bad’ bullshit. You’re just feeding the divide more and more.”
Ron stepped back. Harry looked around at the faces of the people who had stopped what they were doing just to listen to him, again. He sighed.
“Fine, you want to do this? Right. Tom Riddle, aka Voldermort, was a slytherin, so yes, he was bad. But Dumbledore was a Gryffindor and right now I hate him just a little more than Moldyshorts. You know who else was a Gryffindor? Peter Pettigrew and he sold my parents—HIS BEST FRIENDS—out to Moldyshorts. And since we’re airing dirty laundry, Lockhart was a fucking Ravenclaw and not only did he steal all the stories for his books, but he sure did like to try and get boys alone with him.” Harry looked pointedly at Neville who had just stepped up to the growing group.
Sorry, he mouthed to his friend.
“Harry’s right.” Ron sputtered at Neville, who still had the sword in his hand. “No, Ron, he is. Sure two of the three who tortured my parents were Slytherins, but Barty Crouch Jr. was a Ravenclaw.”
“My father was a Hufflepuff.” Harry stared at Blaise. Why the hell did he share that? “Mother isn't from here, but she met him and wanted to be where he was. He tried to kill her for her money. A Hufflepuff is the reason my mother is called A Black Widow, he turned her into one.”
“Blaise,” Theo muttered.
“No. It’s fine, Theo. Potter is right and you know it. The stupid house rivalry thing took on a life of its own. It wasn't supposed to be like this.”
“Dumbledore did it,” Harry said.
“What?” Mione demanded.
“When he was telling me about the horcruxes, instead of telling me anything important like how Goblins could take one out of my head, he showed me his memories of Tom Riddle.”
“Who's that?” someone in the crowd shouted.
“That was Voldermort’s name. He was a halfblood that grew up in an orphanage in World War Two. And if when Dumbledore met him, he offered empathy instead of derision, he might not have become the madman he did.”
“Harry…” Ron started.
“No. I’m done with this, Ron. I identify with Riddle. He was loved for maybe the few moments his mother held him before she died, and then he was sent to an orphanage where he never saw love again. He grew up during the Blitz. Now I know you pure bloods probably never learned about that, but it was war. Bombs were being dropped on London every night. I’d be afraid too. And then once he found out about magic, about why he was different, Dumbledore immediately wrote him off because of the kind of magic he did.”
“Parslemagic,” Theo breathed out.
“Yup. Riddle was a parselmouth because he came from the Gaunt line, which came from the Slytherin line. HE came by it naturally. So do I.” Harry glared at Ron, who had the decency to look ashamed.
“And when Riddle was in Hogwarts, he begged to stay every summer, he didn’t want to go back to the orphanage, back to sleeping in bomb shelters, back to always being afraid. It’s why he became obsessed with immortality,” Harry looked at Ron and Mione. They seemed really uncomfortable. Good.
“You want to know who else begged to stay at Hogwarts every summer? ME. Because living at the Dursleys was the same kind of hell that Riddle dealt with during the blitz.”
“Oh Harry,” Mione murmured. She went to reach out, but stopped when Harry stepped away. Neville’s grip on the sword handle grew tighter. His mouth in a flat line.
“I didn’t have to worry about bombs or rationing. No. I had to worry about Vernon and Dudley. I was abused. I was starved. I was beaten. And Dumbledore knew. He knew and he kept sending me back because to him, all I am was a way to beat Riddle. That's the man that you value so much Mione. I was a pawn. So were you and Ron and everyone who fought instead of him.”
“Pawn,” Ron muttered to himself. “Chessboard. Fluffy. Troll.” Ron checked things off on his fingers, his eyes wide as he looked up at Harry.
“Yeah, you figure it out?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mione asked. Harry scoffed.
“Hermione, I love you. I really do. You’re the sister I never had. But you are also the most unbelievably stubborn human being I’ve ever met. Especially when you think you know better.”
“SPEW,” the unidentified Slytherin said. Hermione sputtered.
“For Merlin's sake,” a new voice said. Harry looked around and found that Pansy had somehow un-gagged herself. “Did you even talk to an elf before trying to liberate them?” she sneered.
“They didn’t want to—”
“Of course they didn’t!” Neville added. Hermione looked betrayed. “Look, you’re my friend, but like Harry said. You don’t listen. And if you weren't going to listen to them, I knew you wouldn't listen to me, so I never said anything, but… oh hell. Sage!” Neville called.
“Master Neville, you is dirty.” The little elf said immediately. His nobby fingers began waving and suddenly Neville didn’t look like he’d just stepped off a battlefield, which of course he had.
“Thank you Sage, but that’s not why I called you.”
“What’s can I be doing for you?”
“I hate to bother you, when I’m sure you’re busy in the greenhouses, but could you please tell my friend here, why you like working for us.” Neville pointed at Hermione, and Sage’s large eyes widened even further.
“Silly childrens’, you’s all being dirty.” With another wave of her hands, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Theo and Blaise were all clean. Pansy whined. With the arrival of Sage, the outer crowd dispersed, which was fine with Harry, he knew he’d be going over all the stuff about Riddle soon enough.
“Sage, would you mind if I talked with you about your life with the Longbottom’s?” Hermione asked as politely as possible as she was capable of.
“Yes, yes. Come, I make tea.” Hermione was dragged to a pile of rubble, which was suddenly a table with a full tea service.
“House elves are so cool,” Harry breathed out. But then Dobby came to mind and Harry sat down on the ground hard, tears coming to his eyes.
Ron knelt before him, “I miss him too, mate. Dobby was one of a kind.”
“Just another causality,” Harry muttered. “Another life lost for a pointless war.”
“Did you say Dobby?” Theo moved to sit by Harry’s side and even though nothing was settled, Harry appreciated it.
“Yeah, Dobby. He was crazy but in the best way. He tried to save my life once, and then I got him freed from the Malfoy’s and he became a friend.”
“He helped us this past year. He’d bring us food and medical supplies. Stuff to make potions when he couldn't get them,” Theo told him. “He saved us.”
“I’m so glad, Theo. Not only that you had Dobby on your side, but that you survived.”
“Me too, Potter. Me too.”
“You could call me Harry, you know. I did just announce feelings to a whole courtyard of people,” Harry joked.
“I thought perhaps I had imagined that. It honestly doesn’t seem real,” Theo admitted.
“What? Cause I’m just some dumb Gryffindor?” Harry asked, bitterly.
“Don’t call yourself dumb, Potter,” Theo snapped back. Ron looked at him sharply. Theo just ignored Ron. “You’re not the only one who has been watching. I’ve watched you for years, you downplay your smarts to appease Granger and you downplay your quidditch skills so as to not upset Weasley, which is dumb by the way, you could go pro. I’ve watched you bite your tongue when you shouldn’t and antagonize exactly when you should. I may not know you the way your friends do, but I do know you.”
Harry was certain there were literal hearts in his eyes as he gazed at the boy he’d wanted for far too long. But as usual, Ron’s jealousy reared its ugly head.
“Harry doesn’t hide his skills from us,” he refuted hotly.
“Yes he does,” Hermione added. She gave Sage a half bow before the elf disappeared, but she’d made her way back to them.
“But…”
“No, Ron. Theo and Hermione are right,” Neville said. “I’ve seen it too. He hides himself from everyone, not just you.”
Harry knew exactly what Neville was thinking of. The shy boy had caught Harry doing potions in an abandoned classroom in third year, because they both knew Snape would never pass him so he’d have to learn on his own.
“And as much as you hate it, Ron. This has nothing to do with you. Let Harry have some peace, will ya?”
Harry scoffed. “Peace? What is peace?”
“It’ll be easier to find now that Riddle is gone,” Ron said quietly.
Blaise laughed, loudly. And so hard he fell to the ground. “Potter isn't going to know peace unless he leaves England.”
“What my idiotic best friend said is true,” Theo started. “And Harry knows it. Said it himself.”
“What?” Hermione asked.
“I’ll be called in front of the Wizengamot as soon as it’s stabilized, hell, maybe even before it is when it’s still being run by death munchers,” Harry said, with cold detachment. “There will be trials, there will be reporters, I’ll never get a moment’s peace, Mione. I’m the fucking chosen one.”
“So what will you do, mate?” Ron asked.
“I’m going to do the one thing I’ve never done before. The one thing I should have done,” Harry said. “I’m going to run away.”
“What?” “Harry, no!” “Good.”
All the voices overlapped, and both Hermione and Ron glared at Neville.
“Longbottom is right, so is Potter,” Blaise replied, after wiping the tears from his cheeks from his laughter. “If I was Potter? I would have ran the moment I knew Dumbledore had set me up. Because now he’s done it, he’s stopped the monster for a second time, the entirety of Wizarding Britain is going to want a piece of him now.”
“Aren’t you meant to be smar… hmpph.” The tie mysteriously went back into Parkinson’s mouth. Theo smirked at the third boy.
“Okay, it’s killing me, I don’t know your name,” Harry said.
“It’s Pike. Much like that auror lady, we don’t say my first name,” the kid said. “I am in fact in the same year as you and got sorted right before you. So honestly, I'm not surprised you don't know my name.”
The Slytherins laughed and Harry just shook his head. “I can make all sorts of excuses, but mostly it was just still all so new to me. Magic, Hogwarts, it all… it still amazes me.”