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It was a calm, clear night outside the Burrow, and for the first time in years Harry Potter had no idea what to do next. He was alive, Voldemort was dead, it was over.
He laid on his back in the grass. His friends were the same; occasionally they pointed out shooting stars or fireflies.
He doesn’t remember who got it started. What’s everyone going to do next, someone had asked. Possibly Neville.
Harry was flummoxed. After hadn’t been something he ever thought about.
Luna started, and her ethereal tones drifted across the field. “Once Daddy has recovered, we’re off to the Hebrides for the annual Crumple-Horned Snorkack migration. Then I plan to become a Magizoologist,” and no one doubted she’d become one and a professor too. Her classes would be well interesting, at the least.
“Pro Quidditch!” Ron almost shouted. Then, a bit lower, he said “Well, I’ll be trying out anyways for the Cannons. I won’t get it, but I’ll kick myself if I don’t try.”
“Oh Ron,” the other ginger said, “I so wish you the best and will be rooting for you. I know you’ll make it!”
“Blimey, Gin! That’s…” his eyes narrowed. “Suspiciously nice of you.”
“Yeah, because after I graduate and then join the Harpies, I can’t wait to fly you into the ground!”
“Oi!” Laughter all around.
“That’s my girl!” Harry said, almost a whisper in her ear. And she was. Still is. And he’s her guy.
“Auror. Maybe.” Harry ran his hands through his hair. “Honestly, I have no idea. Still thrilled I’m alive.” Hermione gripped his hand, and Ginny pulled him into a short hug.
Neville looked eager. “Herbologist! Sprout says I can start next term as her apprentice. I can’t wait!” They gave him a round of cheers at that. Then looked to Hermione.
“Oh. Prime Minister, I think.”
“Hermione? It’s Minister for Magic. No numbers involved.”
“No, Neville, I mean Prime Minister,” was the reply. “After a proper degree or two, some time as a barrister, then working my way through as an MP and a couple of Cabinet postings, of course.” Harry remembered Muggle government, somewhat, but never paid it any attention. The others were lost.
“Why would anyone want to mail a cabinet, Hermione?”
“Um, ’Mione, those all sound Muggle.”
“No, Ronald, those are British. As am I.” Her tone was cool and level.
His best mate looked confused. “But how’re you going to do that while being a witch?”
“I’m not.”
“So, you’re not doing this Minister thing?” Harry asked, now as confused as the rest.
“No, Harry, not going to be a witch. Why would anyone assume I was going to stay another day in this society? After almost a decade of it belittling, torturing, and doing its level best to kill me simply for how I was born?”
“Bugger that, Hermione!” Ron insisted stridently. “That was You-Know-Who, not any stupid ‘society’ after you.”
“Was it. Was it really.” Hermione wore a thin smile, one that Harry had never seen before. “It’s indeed a magical land if you can believe in such things, Ronald.” She’d gave a heavy sigh, and her tone changed to Guest Lecturer Granger.
“Magic was exciting to learn, no question, and thrilling to use. And I’m quite proud to have been part of ridding this planet of Riddle and his lot, and saving people. Especially you, Harry, make no mistake. Everything I did in school revolved around keeping you alive. It’s clear, however, that nothing is ever really going to change. Look at how quickly and completely the government bowed down to that monster.” Harry couldn’t argue that. The three of them had seen it for themselves.
“Look, if I wanted to live in the 1800s, I’d go… well, nowhere I can think of. Because why would anyone want to live then! Seven years has only shown how horribly backwards, stagnant, inane, and regressive this place is. I’d rather live in the one that’s gone to the Moon, that’s explored the bottom of the oceans, that’s invented computers. One that’s moving forward, warts and all!” Right, Harry forgot about the Moon. That was years ago, wasn’t it? He had no idea what a ‘computer’ was, though.
“Magic isn’t moving,” she continued forcefully. “The rest of the world is. And when the next Riddle happens, and it will happen, we’ll be so far beyond magic that it won’t be a contest.” Harry noticed the ‘we’ didn’t include wand users. People like him. He wasn’t alone in noticing it either, he could tell.
“All you have to do is look up. We’re up there now, and we’ll be everywhere up there soon. We’ll own it.” Hermione rose up and brushed off her jeans. “Hate to leave on that, but I’m off to the Bahamas to collect my parents. Flight leaves in a few hours.”
Almost forgot about them, Harry thought a bit shamefully. “They’re okay then?” he asked. No, wait, the Bahamas? “Hang on, Hermione, you’d said Australia!”
“Oh, they’re quite fine. And I kind of lied to you all about that.” And that got some surprised looks as she grinned. That one he knew, identical to the one she’d had when telling of Rita and the bottle.
“I did implant a false memory, just only on one person. I spelled myself to believe that I’d charmed them into forgetting me, and that I’d sent them to Australia. It was set to end if I heard certain trusted people - such as yourselves - say the magic words ‘Voldemort is dead.’ Or phrases to that effect; I loaded about a dozen. Mum and Dad have been enjoying a very extended holiday with Crookshanks, working on their tans. I borrowed the Weasley tactic, created a fake sweepstakes award that they'd won.”
Hermione didn’t pause. “Then I’m back and off to Cambridge. Got the acceptance letter a few days ago; I’d been keeping up with a real education whilst at Hogwarts. Why do you think I was always so busy studying?” A silent ‘duh’ was also there.
“And then politics,” she added. “Goodness knows I’ve learned plenty of examples of how not to run a government in the last seven years, from the decades prior as well.” She was about to leave, then turned to them all one last time.
“It's been nice… no, it hasn’t been,” she said, mournfully. “You’re wonderful friends and I love you all, and I’ll remember you forever, but your society is utterly diseased and should be put down. I hope you realise that before it’s too late. I’ll be out there with humanity. Let me know if you ever want to join it.”
With that, she walked away. So far as he knew, nobody saw her again.
~~~~~~
Years pass…
He’s relaxing at home doing some reading, another busy day for the Aurors. James is about to start his second year. Albus can’t wait to join him next. Lily wants to go now, right now! The Harpies have signed Ginny for another three years, an unprecedented contract. Quidditch has become even bigger than ever, and she’s a major star. The annual lunch is tomorrow after all the kids are safely away. Both he and Ginny have taken the day off for it, and then are taking Albus and Lily to a new funfair in Hogsmeade.
James mentions as he readies his books that Astronomy will be classroom only starting this year. Telescopes aren’t listed in the supplies list for new students, and the Tower has been remade into a new owlery.
Harry puts down a copy of The Guardian that had been left in the office, her smiling, victorious face large above the fold. And thinks long into the night.