Harry sat alone in the common room, looking into the fireplace, deep in thought. It was still early in the morning, and none of the other students were up yet, not even Hermione and Ron.
He let out a deep sigh, grateful for the moment of quiet introspection as he thought about the previous night. The happy atmosphere had lasted until the end of the feast, but quickly dwindled after they returned to the common room.
He had been too exhausted then to give it much thought, going to bed soon after they returned, but he saw the pain in his classmate's eyes, the lost looks they shared as they stared at the empty seats.
He felt his own guilt over what happened. Looking back at it, he had been so worried about tipping off Andre and the study group; he hadn't considered how it would affect his friends and fellow students.
"You made the right decision, Harry," Merlin said, offering his own opinion. "The sad fact is, you can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try."
"Still… I could have warned them," Harry thought. "Maybe they could have evacuated."
"You don't think the Alumni would have thought of that?" Merlin asked. "They were watching the school. They would have known immediately something was wrong. You made the best decisions you could, given the circumstances."
"Then why doesn't it feel that way?" Harry thought morosely, remembering the haunted looks in everyone's eyes.
"It never does," Merlin replied somberly. "Some of them may even blame you for not doing more," he warned. "You need to remember, that's coming from a place of pain and regret. They'll lash out at you, vilify you," he said, speaking from years of experience. "You need to prepare yourself for that possibility."
'Maybe they're right,' Harry thought back, feeling guilty. 'What right did I have to keep this from them, make decisions that would affect them, without at least warning them?'
"Don't go down this road, Harry," Merlin advised. "It is not your responsibility, nor is it your duty to save everyone."
'Isn't it?' Harry thought back. 'Isn't that why we're here, why our line exists? To help people?'
"Not directly," Merlin replied. "From all that I have learned over my lifetime, we're here to stop something terrible from happening, and from what you've said about your meeting with Lady Death, it's on a scale that far surpasses even what I previously believed. That is why we exist."
"The fact is, Britain has a government. Its job is to serve the public good and protect its citizens. You brought this to the attention of three members of that government, and while the former minister did what he could, as did Bones, the government as a whole did not. This burden is not yours to carry alone."
Harry sighed, staring back at the fireplace, still feeling a great swell of grief for those he lost, and the regret he felt for not doing more. He knew what Merlin said was true intellectually, but it made it no easier for him to process.
"Harry…" Merlin said, sensing his inner turmoil. "It's easy to point fingers and make accusations after the fighting is done, but much harder to make those decisions in the heat of battle. You didn't have the luxury of knowing how everything was going to end. You could only make the decisions as they came."
Harry let out a heavy sigh, heading Merlin's words, but feeling no closer to a resolution.
"Having trouble sleeping?" Hermione asked, spotting Harry sitting by the fire.
"Yeah," Harry replied, looking up as Hermione sat down beside him.
"Nightmares?" she asked sympathetically, seeing the turmoil in his eyes, realizing then that Harry had seen and done far more than the rest of them, but only had a fraction of the time to process what happened.
"No," Harry replied, surprising her. "I'm just thinking about what I could have done differently. Have you been having nightmares?"
Hermione nodded, "everyone has," she replied with a tired sigh. "I guess it makes sense.. The nightmares. They didn't start until a few days afterwards for me. I think I was just too exhausted to even have dreams. You're still getting over the worst of it. When they start, I'm here for you," she said, placing her hand over his, giving it a firm squeeze. "It helps to talk about it."
Harry nodded, squeezing Hermione's hand back. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
"I've been shielding your mind from your dreams," Merlin supplied. "You need to focus on your healing first and foremost."
'How bad is it?' Harry thought back, as he considered the damage he did to himself, especially at the end.
"Bad, but not as bad as it should be," Merlin replied.
'What do you mean?' Harry thought back.
"While you were under, you were given a cocktail of various potions," Merlin explained. "I didn't think much of it at first. I just thought the healers were throwing whatever they could at the wall, hoping something would stick, but now I'm not so sure," he added thoughtfully.
"The potions started out randomly at first, but each time they gave them to you, they gave you more of what you needed, and less of what you didn't."
"They were normal potions," Merlin clarified, "but the components were exactly what you needed to speed up your recovery. The healers couldn't have known that, couldn't have known you're able to break down potions components like that, taking what you needed, and getting rid of the waste."
'You think there was someone helping us? Someone that knew about my abilities?' Harry thought back.
"Maybe," Merlin replied noncommittally. "It's still too early to tell."
'I'm still not back to normal,' Harry thought back. 'My bones feel like they're ok, but my muscles are another story.'
"I expected that to be the case," Merlin replied. "Broken bones are relatively easy to fix with the right potions, and rest, but burned and torn muscle fibers are another story. There are only a few potions that can help with that, and their effects are marginal at best."
'What about my magical pathways?' Harry thought back. 'A lot of them are still not working properly.'
"That will take longer, a lot longer," Merlin replied. "You've burned out about 85% of them by the end of the battle, and you've restored just under 5% of them during your nap."
'That little?' Harry thought back, surprised. He felt stronger than that.
"Picked up on that, did you?" Merlin replied wryly. "It came as a shock to me, too. The large influx of magic you pushed through your pathways didn't burn all of them out. A small percentage of them changed. They expanded, not only increasing the amount of magic you could circulate through them, but also the speed of circulation."
'That's normal though, isn't it?' Harry thought back. 'You said before that it would happen as I got older.'
"Not like this," Merlin replied. "Maybe if you had a few decades, and solely focused on expanding your magical pathways to the exclusion of everything else, you could manage it naturally, but I've never seen it happen this quickly before."
'Will I ever be that strong again?' Harry thought back, remembering how powerful his spells had been, and how much he had increased the range of his abilities.
"Don't count on it," Merlin thought back. "As far as I know, there has never been a concentration of magic this dense ever before. Almost all the magic you used, you pulled in from around you. Most of that magic has dissipated by now."
'Where did it all go?' Harry asked, curiously.
"It's around," Merlin replied. "Magic tends to spread out, kind of like air. It will naturally equalize with the surrounding magic. The higher the concentration of magic, the more rapidly it equalizes."
'It wasn't just the magic the Alumni collected,' Harry thought back. 'Morgan's cast a lot of spells, too. What about her magic?' he thought, remembering how vile and caustic it felt.
"We got lucky there," Merlin replied. "What you felt was the intent of her magic. Thankfully, her magic is still fundamentally the same as ours. Once her magic carried out her will, it turned back into free magic, no longer aligned with her intent."
'There's still a lot more magic in the world than there used to be,' Harry thought back. 'That must have some kind of effect, right?'
"You're not wrong," Merlin agreed. "As far as I can tell, magic is always increasing. I'm convinced that's how all magical beings came about, but you're right to be concerned. There's no president for this."
"The magic could naturally equalize with the rest of the world like normal, and we may not see any noticeable side effects, or it could concentrate in specific places and cause other unexpected events. It's impossible to know which."
"Harry… Harry," Hermione said, shaking Harry's arm.
"Wh-what?" Harry asked, shaken from his side conversation with Merlin as he looked at Hermione in surprise.
"Where were you just now?" Hermione joked. "You looked like you were a million miles away."
"Sorry," Harry replied contritely. "Just got lost in thought. A lot's changed since I woke up."
"Yeah," Hermione said, letting out a long sigh. "I suppose there has."
"Hermione?" Harry asked, remembering how cold Fred and George had been to each other. "Is there something I should know about Fred and George?"
Hermione nodded, "yeah, that's something we'd all like to know," she muttered.
"What?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione in confusion.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "They've been at each other's throats since they got back from St. Mungos. George started it, but Fred's been giving back as good as he's got lately. Ron asked. His parents have asked, I've even asked, but George refused to talk about it, and Fred, he has no idea where this is coming from either."
"Oh," Harry replied, digesting that piece of information. It felt wrong, almost alien for the twins to be at each other's throats the way there were.
"He was seeing Angelina Johnson," Hermione continued quietly.
Harry sighed, feeling a fresh wave of guilt, remembering Angelina. She had always been kind, especially with the younger years, a truly gentle soul that deserved better than she got.
He had seen her go down in the early stages of the battle in the Great Hall, throwing herself in front of a pair of first-year students, taking a cutting curse to the throat, and chest. She hadn't suffered, dieing instantly.
He had seen it happen, but had been fighting two alumni at the time, protecting a group of second-year students, and couldn't get to her without leaving them defenseless.
"I don't think it's just that though," Hermione added. "He was like this even before he knew Angelina died."
Hermione looked down, seeing Mrs. Norris on the floor, curled up by her feet, and picked her up in her lap, petting the cat absentmindedly.
The two of them had bounded since she returned to Hogwarts, each of them finding comfort in the other's presence.
"When did this happen?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, looking at Mrs. Norris sitting comfortably in Hermione's lap.
"I found her after you beat the golem," Hermione said quietly, vividly remembering the events. "It turns out Filch was its first victim. He died…" she said, getting choked up. "He died, protecting Mrs. Norris. When I found her, she was hiding in Filch's jacket, covered in his blood. I found her again after we came back to Hogwarts, and have been taking care of her ever since."
Harry nodded sympathetically, reaching out to pat Mrs. Norris's head, only to pull his arm back quickly when the cat hissed at him angrily.
"Sorry," Hermione said with a soft chuckle. "I guess I should have warned you about that. She doesn't like it when anyone else touches her."
Harry sighed, putting his hand back down in his lap. He could see Hermione was having a difficult time, and this friendship she'd formed with Mrs. Norris seemed to have helped them both, at least a little, but it still didn't feel like she was getting the help she needed to process what she had been through. None of the students did, most of them leaning on each other for support more than anything else.
"Hermione… What has the Ministry done to help?" Harry asked, carefully. "I mean, beyond treating everyone's injuries."
"Help?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "Practically nothing," she said, her hackles rising. "They just patched everyone up and sent them home. Students have lost limbs, some are scared, and burned, but any extra treatment they've got was paid for by their families."
Harry stared at Hermione incredulously. "That's it?" He demanded. "How are they justifying that? What about councilors? Mind healers?"
"There aren't enough of them to go around," Hermione said bitterly. "Some of the wealthier families have been able to afford them, but they're in such high demand now, it'll be years before the average student gets treatment."
"This isn't right," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. "There's really nothing else they're doing to help?"
Hermione just shook her head sadly.
***
Harry sat in his seat at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, and Ron sandwiched on either side of him. He looked around the Great Hall, taking in all the details he'd been too tired to notice the previous night.
There was a patch in the middle of the floor from where the golem burst through, but it hadn't been repaired with any care. Whoever did it hadn't made any attempt to match the rest of the polished stone floor, making it stand out in sharp contrast with everything else.
The giant hole in the wall still remained from when the golem crashed through it even though the rest of the debris and the scorch marks on the wall had been cleaned up, but it was still obvious what had happened here.
He looked at each of the house tables, seeing the empty seats, far more than at the start of term, and the subdued and quiet atmosphere of the students. It felt like all the life and happiness had been sucked out of the school.
Then he looked up at the teacher's table, seeing the empty seats there as well. The one that hurt the most was Professor Green's empty seat, but further down he could also see the empty seats of Professor Kettleburn, and Professor Trelawney.
From what he had been told, Professor Trelawney had chosen to retire, not even bothering to finish out the rest of the school year, and simply owling in her resignation.
Professor Snape was sitting off to the side, his arm in a sling, and Professor Flitwick sat beside him, now wearing a prosthetic leg.
He looked out at the sea of students, seeing the troubled looks in their eyes. None of them were given the time to mourn properly before they were brought back here, far too soon, their wounds still too fresh.
He felt his chest tighten, no longer able to stand the oppressive silence. When he woke up from his coma, he knew things would be bad, but nothing had prepared him for this.
"Harry, mate, are you alright?" Ron asked, seeing the stricken look on his friend's face.
"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "No, I'm about the furthest thing from alright," he said, standing up from his seat, and rubbing his face as he collected his thoughts.
The battle was over, but everything he saw was a reminder of their pain and misery. There was no outlet for any of it, nothing to help them process what they had been through.
"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" Harry asked, casting a wandless Sonorus on himself, watching as everyone looked at him. "Can you all join me outside, by the lake? I have something to say to all of you," he said before going to the door.
"Harry? What's going on?" Hermione asked, concerned by the look in Harry's eyes as she rushed to join him.
"I.. I'll tell you outside," Harry replied, not sure if he could get out what he needed to say a second time.
Draco quickly caught up with them, but aside from casting a worried look at Harry, remained silent.
Albus watched from his seat, seething as Harry made his announcement and demand for the students to join him outside. He looked around the teacher's table as his professor's also wordlessly stood up, joining the students exiting the great hall.
He briefly considered standing up, and putting the boy in his place, but when Minerva caught his eyes, sending him a silent glare, he thought better of it. The last thing he needed was another public argument with his transfiguration professor.
He had put out a few feelers, looking in to replacing her for the following term, but finding a competent replacement was easier said than done, and he had far too much on his plate already, looking for a new Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle studies Professor, along with his various duties on the Wizengamot, and the ICW to contend with.
He could only watch impotently as the boy walking out of the great hall, trampling on his authority, and the worst part was, there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way to punish the boy for his impertinence, not without making himself out to be the villain.
As much as it galled him, the boy was untouchable at the moment, his reputation with the public too strong. No one was ready to hear a word against him, at least not yet.
He, of course knew, better than anyone, that's today's hero, was tomorrow's villain. The public was fickle, and could turn on their hero's without a moment's notice, but that day would not be today.
It would not happen by chance or accident. He would have to get the proverbial ball rolling. He would give the right push to the public with a few choice articles published by the Prophet.
Harry looked out across the school grounds as he made his way to the lake, seeing the deep furrows in the ground and the sections of the forbidden forests that had burned down during the battle, surprised it still hadn't been repaired.
He came to a stop at the edge of the lake. Professor Green had told him once that it was her favorite place to sit, and think, that it was peaceful here.
As he stared across the lake, the water shimmering on the surface, he could see why. He turned around, looking at the professors and students as they formed a loose semi-circle around him, waiting patiently.
He cleared his throat, looking out into the sea of faces as he collected his thoughts. "You've all suffered," he said, his voice quiet, but gaining strength as he found the words.
"You pain, our pain," he said, correcting himself. "It's real. Some of us have the physical scars, and the mangled and missing limbs to prove it, others carry emotional scars, and some of us carry both."
"It's not fair. None of it is. I know you're angry, and I know you're hurt. You want to lash out. You want the pain you feel to just stop, at least for one night, to not have to think about the people we lost," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish I could give that to you.. But I can't."
"I can only tell you I'm sorry…" Harry said, looking at the ground, as he struggled to find the right words, missing the confused, and surprised looks on the other student's faces as they whispered to each other, wondering what he had to be sorry about.
He looked up again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough," he said, his voice cracking. "There are people… friends, brothers, sisters, that should be standing with us here today, that are not."
"I made decisions, choices that affected all of you…. And I don't know if they were the right ones. I've played it back and forth in my mind over and over again, wondering what I could have done differently…"
"Oh Harry," Hermione breathed softly, seeing for the first time how deeply all of this had affected him.
Harry did everything he could, more than anyone else could have done, but to him, it wasn't enough. She could see it in his eyes, the doubt, and the guilt bubbling to the surface.
He had saved so many lives, fought so hard for them, nearly killing himself in the process, yet he still carried the weight of every life that had been lost on his shoulders, feeling the same survivor's guilt they all did.
She looking down, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, feeling a wave of grief take over. She looked around, tears streaming down her face. Everywhere she looked, she could see students and professors alike in similar states.
She would realize much later that this was the first time she'd truly mourned, cried for what she'd been through, the friends they had lost, and the lives she'd been forced to take.
All of them had been in a state of shock, only broken out of it when Harry said what he did, giving voice to the grief all of them felt, but couldn't quite put into words.
"I promise," Harry said, the pain etched on his face as he continued to speak. "I will get stronger. I will get better. I will do everything I can to make sure something like this never happens again."
Draco took a heavy breath. He had spoken to mind healers about what had happened, what he had to do to survive, but it had felt like he was walking through a fog when he did, the events blurry, like he had watched it happen instead of it happening to him, but not anymore. He finally found the clarity he had been missing.
Daphne wiped the tears from her eyes, listening to Harry speak, hanging on to his every word, hearing the raw pain in his voice, seeing it in his eyes as he struggled at times to get the words out.
It was real, not a show put on by sleazy politicians or someone trying to curry favor with her family, or some other manipulation that was too often the Slytherin way.
She couldn't look away, her heart going out to the Gryffindor as he poured out his heart to them in turn, sharing his pain, his regrets, his promises to be better.
It went against everything she had ever been taught as a pureblood to lay bare a vulnerability like this. She had been taught her entire life to hide weakness all costs, but when she looked at Harry, she didn't see weakness, she saw an undeniable strength in his vulnerability. She didn't have this kind of bravery, but wished desperately that she did.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Harry," Ron cut in, his voice thick with emotion as well. "I'm standing here today because of you, and so are my brothers," he said, getting nods of agreement from the other students. "So are a lot of us."
Harry looked at Ron, then at the other students, all of them nodding along, a few of them quietly sharing their own stories of the battle, talking about not only him, but other students coming to their rescue.
"…You're all heroes," Harry said quietly, but his voice still carrying over everyone else, his mind flashing back to the acts of heroism he'd witnessed from his fellow students, jumping in to protect each other even though the odds were against them, healing each other, sacrificing themselves for one another, setting aside long held rivalries, and fighting side by side to protect each other.
"None of ours houses mattered that terrible day," Harry said, finding his voice again. "We weren't Gryffindor's, Slytherin's, Hufflepuff's, or Ravenclaws. We weren't purebloods, half-bloods, or muggleborns. We were united, we were one. And those we lost will never be forgotten," Harry promised, pulling out his wand.
He focused his magic through his magical pathways, and into his wand, feeling a burning pain in his forearm as he did, but he ignored it, watching as a boulder slowly emerged from the ground.
The students gasped as the large stone slowly changed shape, transforming into a rectangular monolith of gleaming polished stone.
Harry felt a wave of dizziness and nausea hit, nearly losing his footing until Ron and Draco grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him up.
Albus watched from the sidelines, his fingers wrapped around the comfortable weight of the elder wand, observing Harry carefully.
He was still heavily injured, that much was obvious, but he was still a threat. The boy had pulled a boulder from the earth, then transfigured it, all without uttering a single incantation or wand movement, a task he would even struggle with.
The window to handle the boy was closing quickly, and if he didn't act soon, he would never regain the allegiance of the elder wand.
"Harry," Ron said, looking at his friend with concern. "Whatever you're doing, you need to stop. You're still injured."
"Ron's right Harry," Hermione pleaded. "Stop, please. You're just going to hurt yourself."
"No," Harry shook his head stubbornly, getting his feet back under him as he took a ragged breath. "I need to get through this," he said, raising his wand again.
They could only watch with growing concern for him as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and words slowly etched themselves into the stone.
Gone, But Never Forgotten, Heroes to the End.
Clara Hargrove
Opal Collins
Jasper Crane
Reginald Coates
Diana Montague
Millie Townsend
Fiona Lark
Penelope Fletcher
Serena Montague
Roderick Lochlan
Julian Sykes
Abigail Fairfax
Sylvia Whitelock
Theodore March
Helena Mayhew
Robert Sheppard
Thomas Grimshaw
Charles Greaves
Victor Blackthorn
Olivia Green
Daphne Hunter
Angelina Johnson
Jonathan Wells
Silvanus Kettleburn
Clara Wright
Augustus Warden
Millicent Bulstrode
Ophelia Ravenscroft
Argus Filch
William Fox
Clara Bellamy
Amos Willoughby
Helena Blackthorn
Maisie Broderick
Nathaniel Howe
Harry gasped for breath as he etched the last name into the stone, the act of reshaping the stone, and etching the names of the students and professors, taking more out of him than he wanted to admit.
Draco looked up at the monolith, reading off each name in his head as the students behind him did the same. It was simple, but it was exactly what it needed to be.
No one was elevated above another. No house or blood status was singled out. They had all sacrificed their lives so that others might live, remembered for their sacrifice as equals.
He cast a worried glance at Harry, seeing how exhausted he looked. It was as if he'd run a hundred laps around the lake, a stark contrast to how strong he'd been during the battle.
Harry sat down on the grass, looking out across the lake as other students did the same, no one said a word, but the silence didn't feel as oppressive as it did earlier in the morning, all of them a little lighter, no longer feeling as if they were carrying their burdens alone anymore.
***
Hi! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. We have one more chapter and the epilogue to go before the end of this arc.
Please take the time to review, let me know what's working, what's not. It helps a lot with figuring out what I need to adjust or change to improve the story.
f 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 78 and the Epilogue of Legacy of Merlin, and the first two chapters of book 2, Legacy of Shadows, along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.