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The silence was deafening. No one could believe what they had just witnessed. Harry had taken an A-K to the chest, and disappeared. As one, the seven who had been in America with Harry looked up with fire in their eyes. "You bastard," Ron hissed. "You killed Harry. You fucking bastard!" The volume of his words rose rapidly until he was screaming the last word.

Ginny’s words struck fear into several hearts, however, as she said in a cold fury, "You killed my husband. You murdered the father of my baby. You are not leaving here alive, old man." With that exclamation, it was as if all the magic in the household flowed through her for just a moment, and a beam shot out of her chest and impacted with the new Dark Lord. He was thrown back several feet, landing unceremoniously on his backside.

Moira grabbed the initiative as he flew to shout "Accio wands!" Every wand that had been taken from them shot to her, and everyone quickly retrieved their own while Dumbledore regained his feet. He was forced into a defensive battle, beginning shielding immediately, as curses and hexes flew at him helter-skelter. His only defence was the same silver shield that Voldemort had used so effectively in the Ministry all those years ago. This, however, prevented him from firing back as he wished to.

Moira, once again, had an idea, and called her pistol to her. Everybody except herself and Sirius ducked at the unfamiliar noise of the gunshot. The bullet was unable to penetrate Dumbledore’s shield, ricocheting off it, but the shield weakened enough for a stinging curse to slip through, and they heard a shout of pain from the other side as the silver wall returned to full strength. She continued to fire at the wall until she was out of ammunition, by which time several more curses and hexes had managed to slip past his defences and inflict damage upon him.

The fury of the volley of spells was impressive, and against a lesser wizard, would have destroyed his shield long before. "Separate attacks aren’t going to get us anywhere," said Ron, suddenly. "We need to coordinate. On three. One, two …"

"Damn it, Severus, DO SOMETHING!" came Dumbledore’s voice from the other side of the shield. Then there was a wet thunking sound, and before Ron could say "Three", the shield suddenly dropped. Their target fell to the ground, apparently unconscious. Behind him stood Severus Snape, a silver candlestick stained with blood in his right hand.

"As you wish, Albus," said Snape, looking blankly down at Dumbledore.

Neville stepped forward and looked down at the bleeding but still living wizard on the floor. "Voldemort was Harry’s. This Dark Lord is mine." With that, Neville closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "For Harry. Avada Kedavra," softly. The sickly green beam struck the elderly wizard, killing him instantly.

Neville turned and handed his wand to Madam Bones. "I place myself in your hands, having cast an Unforgivable Curse. I expect my wand to be broken and myself to be imprisoned."

"Then you expect wrong," she said, handing the wand back to the young wizard. "I was a witness to the death, and it was justified in my opinion. You were fighting a Dark Lord, and using a chance to defeat him permanently. Don’t you ever think you did the wrong thing."

Moira chuckled sadly. "Besides, you’re in America right now. Jurisdictionally speaking, you guys can’t say squat about it even if you wanted to. Which I know you don’t. The spell isn’t an Unforgivable in the United States, and the death, while perhaps not what some would call ‘sportsmanlike’, it was certainly in defence of all of us, because I have no doubt that he would have tried something else if he had awakened."

Severus Snape was looking between the candlestick in his hand and the now dead wizard on the floor. His eyes finally rose to the crowd before him, and it was obvious that he felt completely lost. Ron looked up and said, "Well, I understand the prophecy now."

"What prophecy are you talking about?" Snape asked. He sounded merely confused, rather than having the usual sneer to his tone.

Ron quoted the prophecy that Moira had channelled. "The Dark Lord rises at the Dark Lord’s death and falls by his right hand … betrayer shall become saviour by betraying the saviour … deceit is the Dark Lord’s coin, and in silver shall he be paid … the Dark Lord rises at the Dark Lord’s death and falls by his right hand …" He shrugged. "Dumbledore rose as a Dark Lord at Voldemort’s death, and literally fell when you smacked him a good one. You had betrayed Voldemort, and saved us all by using that candle-holder there against the man who had defeated Grindelwald." He laughed slightly. "And I’ll bet a hundred Galleons I can tell you what metal that candle thingy is made of. Harry wouldn’t have one of those cheap fake ones in his living room; he’d go for the real thing." Ron pointed at the sidetable behind Snape, where the mate to the fatal candlestick still stood flanking a floral arrangement.

Hermione looked at Ron in surprise. "Stand still, Ron. I’m going to kiss you for being brilliant." She walked over to him, smiling slightly, and kissed him.

"What? It fits, doesn’t it?" he asked, bewildered. "Kinda obvious, if you ask me."

Neville snorted. "Look at which hand he’s holding the candlestick in."

Snape looked at the makeshift weapon and suddenly dropped it. "What … where are we?" He looked out the window, where darkness lay between the streetlights. The sudden shift from the middle of the day in England to what seemed to be the wee hours of the morning threw him. "We’re in … America, you said?"

"We're in Harry's house in San Francisco," Moira said sadly. She walked over to Dumbledore's body and gave it a rather vicious kick, before turning back to the rest. "Now what do we do?"

"We take his body back to England and explain what happened," Tonks said quietly. "And we get on with our much poorer lives."

"At least he died for what he felt was important," Hermione said quietly. "He would never have been able to live with himself if he’d not made an effort to block the A-K." She turned to Remus, who was standing next to her, and suddenly threw her arms around him and began to sob. Tears were in his eyes as well.

"At least he’s with James and Lily now," Sirius whispered. "Godspeed, my boy."

At that moment several loud *CRACK*s sounded from outside on the lawn, immediately followed by an Anti-Apparation ward going up. The still-jumpy crowd in the living room immediately leapt to defensive positions, while Sirius looked outside. On the darkened lawn, he could barely see the shimmer of a number of Concealment fields — he wouldn’t have been able to see them at all if he hadn’t been expecting to — and a certain red-headed field agent with pyjama tops tucked into his trousers. "Looks like the cops are here. Wands away, let me handle this." He went out to the front door and opened it a crack. "Charlie, it’s me, Sirius. I’m going to open the door so you can come in. We’re going to keep our hands where you can see them until you tell us you’re satisfied, okay?" He swung the door open to admit a ticked-off agent and four ghostly shimmers. The shimmers promptly resolved themselves into four agents in various states of dishabille, all holding wands on the British wizards. "People, Charlie Watson’s one of the good guys. He’s been working with us since Harry first came here, so let’s all cooperate, shall we?"

"What happened here?" the older redheaded man asked. "We detected a whole shi … boatload of magic going on here just a few minutes ago. It set off all Harry’s burglar alarms and almost gave our night monitor a heart attack." He surveyed the room. "From the way you’re all reacting, or not, as the case may be, can I assume that the guy bleeding into the rug over there was the reason for all that magical hoo-hah?"

Sirius spoke again. "The dead guy bleeding into the rug. He was Albus Dumbledore, and he was an evil son of a bitch who just cost me my godson."

Charlie’s face went white, and he staggered back into a wall. "Harry’s … Harry’s dead? What happened?"

"This will take a while, sir," Hermione said quietly, still sniffling. "Shouldn’t you call in whoever is going to be needed to do a forensic scan of the scene?" She shook her head. "I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t be telling you your job."

"It’s all right," he murmured, and shook his head. Pulling out a cell phone, he was quickly speaking with someone. "Dale? Full crime scene team. Harry’s place. Yeah, I said Harry. I know his new identity was … look, he’s apparently dead, and we have a body on the rug, bleeding into the carpet, that isn’t him. Team here, fifteen minutes ago. Move it! Lane, take down the wards so the team can get in."

"If they could be here fifteen minutes ago, they’d save his life," Ginny sniffed, "and my baby would have a father."

Charlie seemed to deflate. "I’m sorry," was all he could say before a series of rapid fire cracking sounds happened out in front of the house. "That should be the team. Be right back." A moment later he was ushering a team of about thirty people into the house. At the raised eyebrows from several people, he said, "Harry was a favourite visitor to our offices. Lots of friends there, and most of them tagged along with the forensics guys. They want his murderer found and dealt with."

Sirius just pointed at Dumbledore’s body. "That’s the guy who killed him right there, bleeding all over our rug."

The forensics team moved everybody and cordoned off the living room. They began setting up cameras in each corner, pointing in various directions, and stepped out themselves. "How long ago did this happen?"

"We got back here about twenty minutes ago, I think," Sirius said.

"Okay, we’ll set it for forty, just to be safe. Charlie, you get them down to HQ and ask ‘em what was going on, and you’ll see us in about an hour, okay?"

"Gotcha, Dale," Charlie said sadly as he pulled a length of string from a pocket. Lengthening it, he bade everyone to grab hold, and then cast the Portkey spell.

#####

They appeared in a large meeting room, and Charlie motioned for them to take seats around the long table. "Why don't you tell me what happened? How did the British Minister of Magic end up on Harry's rug, dead?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "You know me by now, Charlie, so I guess I should start."

Hermione cleared her throat demurely. "Shouldn't we be separated, as to not contaminate each other's testimony?"

Charlie frowned. "True. I'm not sure I want to deal with complaints from the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They were a pain in our asses trying to get Harry back."

"I think I can guarantee with some certainty that the head of the MLE will not complain, sir," Amelia Bones said with a slight smile. She passed Charlie a folder containing a silver badge, the insignia of Magical Law Enforcement clearly visible on it. "Amelia Bones, at your service. Most of the problems came from the corpse in question usurping my authority."

"Your …" Charlie said, turning slightly white. His face went into his hands. "Wonderful. Just what I need in my record. 'Insulted Head of British Law Enforcement Agency. Caused international incident.'"

"Only if the international incident involves putting us all at greater ease, Mister … Watson, was it?" He nodded. "I agree that Mister Black should probably explain, since he knows more of the story than I do, and you already know him."

"Harry was … oh, shit, Charlie — don’t let your forensics team go too far around. Harry was paranoid, and only the two of us know … knew how to allow others past them." He looked to the others. "He added you to them when you arrived." Turning back to Charlie Watson he said, "The usual disabling charms will set them off. Noting lethal, but unless your team wants to be sprouting redwoods from their arses, you’ll need me there to disable." Charlie dialled his cell phone. "Dale? Yeah — got word the house has mild booby traps. The standard spells to disarm will … well, Sirius tells me that your dog would be happy, but you’d have a problem sitting down. Yeah. We’ll be by later to help you out. Oh really? Well, I want to talk to them and see those tapes as soon as they come back to the office, okay?"

He hung up and looked at the group before him. "Nice fight you guys had, if what Dale is seeing is correct. What happened?"

"Okay. We were in London, and Harry headed off for a meeting with Voldemort."

"He was willingly meeting him?"

"Let’s say that Harry was expecting him, although Voldemort didn’t know that. He set an ambush. Short form is fight, fight, fight, blow up the Dark Lord, fight some more, escape exploding henchman, end up in San Francisco. Somehow Albus Dumbledore was able to follow us, and then we watched as Harry talked. Albus had disarmed us in a stupidly loose moment on our part, and he decided to kill a friend to make the point to Harry. He chose one of two women carrying Harry’s babies. Harry threw himself in the path of the Avada Kedavra and disappeared. I don’t know what Dumbledore did to him."

"Your passage to this city, by whatever means it was, left such an easily traceable signature that I would almost suspect that you had intended to have us follow you," Snape sneered, his old self returning.

"Considering we were escaping en masse an exploding Peter Pettigrew," Remus barked, "I think that a little laxness in our escape plans might be forgiven." Snape blinked and wisely chose to fall silent.

"There are bullet holes around the room. What happened?"

Moira spoke up. "That was me. I couldn’t get through his shield, but it took so much power from him that the others were getting spells through. Finally, that guy over there," she finished, pointing at Severus, "brought a candlestick down on old white hair’s skull."

"I killed him while he was unconscious," Neville said sadly. "He was too dangerous to be allowed to wake up."

"You put down a rabid dog, basically, from what I’m hearing from you all. We’ll talk a bit more about this, for the paperwork, but I can pretty well — well, we all knew Harry, and what his problem was, and all the rest. The recording those guys were doing seems to back up your story. He shows, disarms you, he fires the first offensive spell, and then all hell breaks loose. Self defence on killing him, and that’s how we’re going to mark it, unless something else says otherwise. I would like to know, though, why you decided to cosh him, when it looked like you were on his side?"

Snape clenched his fist on the tabletop. "I had just spent twenty years trying to free myself from service to one Dark Lord. I did not wish to spend the rest of my life in service to another. I saw an opportunity, and I took it."

Charlie opened his mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a loud chirping noise coming from seven pockets. Sirius, Moira, Ginny, Tonks, Ron, Remus, and Hermione pulled out their PDAs with an odd look on their faces. Suddenly a voice came from them, in seven speaker stereo. "Old man, you’ll have to do better next time. I’m coming back for you, you son of a bitch — get your hands off me, damn it! Don’t make me break something expensive! I need to get back there! Why? I have some deaths to avenge!"

"Harry?" asked a quavering voice, unbelieving.

"Ginny? Is that you?" the voice asked, much quieter than the previous message. "Are you all right? Are you all all right?"

"Prove that you’re really Harry," she said, trying very hard not to cry.

"Well, you put your elbows in the butter when you were eleven because you were embarrassed about … things. If you want me to continue, I can say a few things I don’t know if you want broadcast with your Mum in the area."

"Go ahead, I don’t care," she replied, biting her lower lip.

"You make the most delightful squeals during love-making, and it can be an interesting fight trying to disengage afterwards, because of the feeling of completeness."

"Oh Harry!" she sobbed suddenly. "It is you!"

"Yes, it is. You guys are all okay?"

"Yes, Harry, we are," Sirius said. "Severus and Neville took down Dumbledore, and we’re with Charlie right now, who appears to be on the phone telling his people that it’s gone from being a double homicide to a single one. How in hell did you … where are you?"

They heard a laugh. "Remember the three settings I had on those disks?"

Hermione slapped her forehead. "St. Mungo’s! Of course! If a shock to the system like the one you had wouldn’t cause that disk to transport you there, nothing would."

"Exactly. Shocked them when I sat up, making the sheet fall off my face." There was a pause, and then he said, "Look, I’ll explain the rest later, when I see you guys. Now that I’m not avenging your deaths, I can be a lot happier, and make the healers here happy as they check me over to make sure I’m not going to sprout a third penis or something."

"Well, we’ll be there as soon as Mr. Watson clears us to go," Tonks said.

"Harry," Charlie said, "you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice after what they told me had happened."

"Oh yes I do," came the quiet response. "I was expecting to be returning to a mass of dead people, and being forced to tear Dumbledore apart with my bare hands." He finished with a sigh, "I think I’ll wait here for you, and see if I can keep people from trying to take pieces of my pants to sell on eBay, or the wizard equivalent. I pity the idiot who takes the job of Minister for Magic when things settle down here. He’s going to have a long road ahead of him fixing the damage that Fudge and Dumbledore did." The line went quiet.

"Wow," Hermione said softly. "He’s going to get really quiet for a while, and maybe even depressed. I hope we can get there fairly quickly."

Ginny’s PDA chirped suddenly. "Ginny?" came Harry’s voice. "Happy birthday." She laughed her thanks softly and joyfully.

#####

Charlie Watson walked into his supervisor’s office. "Boss, I have a really weird request."

"Must be part of the Harry Potter case then," came the chuckled reply.

Charlie snorted. "You don’t know the half of it. How much of the case have you heard?"

"Not much. One victim was A-K’d and disappeared into thin air, and the other was bashed in the back of the head with a candlestick and A-K’d to make sure he couldn’t get up and try again. The caved in skull guy was the one who’d A-K’d the first one."

"Pretty good, but not all of it. I need permission to go to London and interview someone."

"A witness?"

"The first victim."

"Potter. The first victim had to be Potter." Charlie nodded. "Casting Avada Kedavra on most people kills them. It just pisses him off. How in hell did he get to London?"

"I don’t know, that’s the thing. We’re pretty damned sure that it’s him, but I want to eyeball him to be sure, and talk to him face to face. I mean, the kid lived with me for a while — I think I’ve got a feel for how to tell if this guy over there is the real deal. His girlfriends think it is."

"Okay, I’ll agree." He paused. "Two things. You know you’ll have to write this report under Veritaserum just for anyone to believe it." Charlie nodded. "Second — girlfriends? Plural?" At the amused nod, he finished, "God damn kid is luckier than I can imagine. Lookers too, aren’t they?"

"Boss, if I weren’t so damned happily married, I’d contemplate doing any one of ‘em in a heartbeat if they’d have me. Only woman I’ve ever seen who was sexier is my own wife."

"High praise indeed! Well, you’re approved. Make your arrangements, and we’ll see what comes of it. Just make sure the Brits know you’re coming."

"One of our witnesses is Amelia Bones."

"The Brits’ top dog in Law Enforcement? Damn, that kid has friends!" He shook his head. "Get going, Charlie." Charlie turned and exited the office.

#####

A rather large group appeared in the foyer of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley had been uncharacteristically silent since Dumbledore’s death. She frowned, and finally turned to Tonks. "Miss Tonks, when we have a chance, I need to speak to you. I wronged you four years ago, and I need to make amends, if possible." She closed her eyes and put her hands to them. "I lost Fred and George to their business, and Ron and Ginny to my own stubbornness. I trusted people I now know that I shouldn’t have. I start to wonder if I’ve done anything right as a mother."

Tonks walked over to the woman and put her hands on her shoulders. "You did the best thing right. You taught them to make the decision to do what they felt was right, and stick with it. They didn’t learn that from Harry, or Hermione, or me, or anyone else. They learned that from their brothers and their parents. I said some ugly things in anger those four years ago myself. If we both agree to learn from what happened, then I can consider the problem null and void."

"Not until I right another wrong, which can’t be done until we get to the Burrow. You are welcome there, Miss Tonks."

"Tonks is just fine. May I call you Molly again?" A tear-filled nod and hug later, tensions were much relaxed. "We’ll need to talk, but I predict, probably with greater accuracy than that quack in the tower at Hogwarts, that we’ll be back to our old relationship in no time."

They were soon in the lobby of St. Mungo’s, asking to see Harry Potter, and were quickly taken to a separate waiting room. A healer came out, a bit shocked to find seventeen people waiting to see Harry. "I can’t let you all in to see him at once, but small groups won’t be a problem — no more than four at a time."

"What’s wring with him?" Ginny asked in alarm.

"Exhaustion mainly, and we’re treating a nasty curse mark on his chest, but that seems to be healing pretty well. That trademark forehead scar is finally responding to treatment, and though he’ll always have it there, it won’t bleed out like it used to. It’ll eventually fade to a point where you’ll have to look hard to find it."

#####

Harry sat up in the bed. He was tired, but he wasn’t going to rest until he’d seen them all. He’d heard their voices, but he needed to know that they were all right. The door opened to admit Charlie Watson, Sirius, Remus, Amelia Bones, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. "They wouldn’t have allowed us all in here if we hadn’t agreed to leave soon," rumbled Shacklebolt.

"Well, I survived it," he said. "I’d prefer to explain to everyone all at once when I get home, but it comes down to Mum saving my life one more time. Long story. Any way I can prove I’m me to your satisfaction?"

Charlie spoke up. "What’s my daughter’s name?"

"Which one? The six year old, or the Quidditch hottie?" Harry’s grin was impudent.

"You’ve done more for that girl’s ego, you know that Harry? She never got a date until you started calling her that."

"Well, she carried herself differently is all. She’s an attractive girl, Charlie. Don’t worry, I have no intention of adding her to my harem."

"You know if she sets her mind to it, you probably won’t have a say in the matter," Charlie laughed.

"She’s gotta get through the others first. I should be safe from her."

Eyes twinkling, Charlie asked, "Do you want to be safe from her?"

Harry laughed outright. "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that whether my answer is positive or negative, I am likely to phrase it in such a way as to learn firsthand just how interesting Department Question Mark’s new curses are."

"Good answer, Harry. Good answer. Glad to see that even an Avada can’t keep you down. Let me go out and let everyone know, okay?"

"We need to be going as well," Amelia said. "We’re going to need to do a lot of clean up on this one. Dark Lord for Minister — won’t that go over well with the public?"

"Don’t get me going on that," Harry grumbled. "They’re part of the fault for this."

"Understood," she replied with a smile. "We’ll say goodbye now." Kingsley clapped him gently on the shoulder, and then they were gone. Moody popped his head in to say that he was glad to see Harry was doing all right, and then took off with Kingsley and Amelia.

The rest of the crowd slid slowly into and out of the room until it was just Harry and the girls. "I forget, ladies," he said softly, "have I told you recently that I love you four more than my own life?"

Ginny sniffed. "Yes, a little while ago." She beat his chest gently with her fists. "You didn’t have to prove it though, you prat!"

He winced with each blow, but let her continue until she felt spent. "How can I apologize for something I’d do again? You four mean everything to me, and I wasn’t about to let Albus steal our baby’s life as well." He pulled her close. "I want as many babies with you as you’re willing to have, my beloved Ginevra. That goes for all of you. And if one is too many, I’ll accept that."

"If you think you’re getting out of fathering my children," Tonks said, "you’ve got another think coming!"

"That’s true," Harry mused. "I’m about your only option. Sirius is your cousin, Ron’s out of the running, and I’d imagine the same goes for Remus."

"Not true," Moira murmured. "At least when I was in the room. His eyes were on me, and he was certainly reacting as if he liked what he saw." Her eyes twinkled.

"Hey, Ron was watching you walk upstairs once," Hermione said. "I don’t think he’s quite as gay as he thinks." She looked to Harry. "I saved my virginity for you, Harry. You’re fathering my first child. Deal with it."

"Yes ma’am!" he said cheekily, saluting. "Wear that Librarian outfit again, and I can guarantee prompt service, too!"

"I think we ought to see about getting you out of here and into a loving environment," Tonks said. "What do you say to invading the Burrow?" At his surprised eyebrow rise, she said, "We’ve pretty well buried the hatchet. Molly admits she was wrong, I admit that I was wrong to get so shirty with her, and we’re going to work on the rest. Arthur agrees, now that he knows the whole story. I’m permitted on the grounds again."

"Good. We’re all staying together, though. I love you, and I’ve grown rather fond of that pile of bodies on the bed. I’m not bending on that. In the eyes of the gods, the willingness I showed by throwing myself in front of that A-K was enough for them to consider us married, since I’d have done that for any of the seven of you. Yeah — the gods consider me married to all seven of you."

"You spoke to them?" Hermione gasped.

"No, but I got word from those that I did speak to. Mum and Dad are proud of me, you see. They told me so before they kicked me out of … wherever it was, and put me back in my body."

"Let’s continue this at the Burrow," Ginny said quietly. "There’s a lot of ground to cover, I think."

"Great. Somebody go tell the Healer types that I’m leaving, and somebody else help me find where they hid my trousers, will you?"

#####

An hour later, Harry was sitting on the couch in the family room at the Burrow, explaining things. "Well, first off, I knew that with my quarterstaff being a big-arsed version of my wand, right down to the phoenix feather, we’d have that same reaction we had last time," he said, recounting the fight with Voldemort. "I was counting on it. I also knew that I’d have a damned sight better ability to control it if I could hold it two handed, psychologically speaking." Fred and George were snickering off to the side.

"Cool it, guys," Ginny said quietly. "Besides, the thing you’re giggling about, he needs at least three hands to hold it properly." She placed her hand on her belly and smiled happily. "How do you think I ended up like this?"

"Please, Ginny, try to keep your family’s heads from exploding right now. Please?" Harry smiled. "Back to what I was saying. Between a greater ability to hold the wand and greater control, not to mention the feelings that these four women have for me and that I return, I was able to return fire, so to speak, until his wand exploded. The fact that I had him whimpering from my broadcasting some particularly enjoyable memories to him didn’t hurt me at all. I then invoked the power that he knew not, if only because he didn’t give a damn to learn about it. Muggle science. Yeah, love was all well and good, in that it allowed me to want to survive the battle with him, but it was Muggle science that destroyed him. All I’ll say for those that pay attention to that sort of thing is that any seventh year student at Hogwarts could conjure what I conjured, but in the amounts that they’d create, the devastation would be far more horrific." He looked to Hermione. "Ask Paul Dirac what I’m talking about."

Her eyes widened, and she slapped her hand to her mouth in horror. "Were you out of your fucking mind?" she screeched a moment later.

"Nope. I’d been practicing making hideously tiny amounts of things for two years, once I figured out how to defeat him. I used a picogram to do what I did. That’s the equivalent of almost 86 pounds of dynamite going off in his brain, which is why they found meaty chunks of him everywhere. I used the blood connection between us to slip right past his shields, and trusted that the combination of his skull and his shields would be enough to contain the explosion. That was the only guesswork in the thing, and I’m glad I guessed right. He’s dead, we’re not, and that’s that. I’m just sorry I won’t be able to do anything as impressive for anyone else’s birthday. Ginny gets the destruction of Voldemort on hers. What do I do for Hermione’s? Or Tonks’s? Or Moira’s?"

"We’ll settle for birthday cakes with candles on, like normal people," said Hermione. "Okay, that solves the mystery of how you did in Voldemort. What about surviving Dumbledore’s Killing Curse? What was that gold flash?"

"I didn’t see any gold flash from my point of view, so I don’t know about that. It may have been the result of intersecting magics. What happened, basically, was that the Curse killed me, but there were other magics working against it. I swore to be here for Ginny and the baby, so the link between my spirit and the physical world wasn’t completely severed. My mother’s blood magic, it turns out, was like a reservoir protecting me, and since I hadn’t used it up by staying with the Dursleys the last few years, it was still there to be used. And the way I died, sacrificing myself to save my wife and child, was close enough to the way she died that the oath was able to direct the protective magic to start up my body again. I think if I hadn’t had that, the Oath would have bound me to stay as a ghost to watch over you all," he said soberly. "That wouldn’t have been a bad fate, I guess, but I’d much prefer to be in the flesh while doing it."

"So your mother’s magic is now… ?"

"All gone. I used up the last of it, so I won’t be coming back if I get hit by an A-K a third time. But that’s all right, I plan on leaving the heroing biz to others now. No more jumping in front of curses for me. I’m just going to set up my workshop and get my Mastery and give Ollivander a run for his money. And see if this gang can produce enough Potter-Granger-Weasley-Tonks-Black-Cybelle-Lupin kids to make Snape resign from Hogwarts in horror."

The group laughed, but eventually Harry became serious again. "What worries me now is how soon everything is going to revert back to the way it was, and make it easy for another Riddle to rise to power. How in hell do we stop it? I’ve got some ideas, but who’s going to listen to me?"

"They’d listen to you as Minister for Magic," Arthur Weasley said.

"Yeah. Harry Potter, Minister for Magic. I’m twenty years old, sir, I have every intention of abusing my fame in a short time to make my marriage to all seven of these people legally binding, and I am hideously, painfully sane, in large part because of these seven people. Do you really think I’m actually crazy enough to take the job?"

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