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hp_goldenage2022-03-10 10:25 am
hpgoldenage_mod) wrote in hp_goldenage2022-03-10 10:25 am
Salt and Pepper Fest: The Greatest Good
Title: The Greatest Good
Author:![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
Walgesang
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2093
Content/Warning(s): EWE, Background Ron/Hermione, Headmaster Harry, Friendship, Prophecy, Veil of Death, Hopeful Ending, Neville&Harry, Harry&Ron&Hermione
Summary/Prompt: Harry is visiting Ron at the Ministry when there's an emergency in the Department of Mysteries. A new chosen one who will stop an unknown evil that has yet to come. After decades of peace, this causes a flood of memories for Harry, who decided to become Hogwarts Headmaster as a way to ease into his retirement years.
A/N: Many thanks to G for being an awesome beta and thanks to the fest mods! ♥ This is one of my all-time favorite fests and so glad to be a part of it again. Thanks as well for a prompt that really got me thinking about what Harry would do in this situation!
Read on AO3 or below:
The tea on the desk had gone cold. Harry hadn't touched it since Ron brought it in. Instead Harry had stared at the rising steam from the cup until it faded, his mind clouded with fear.
Harry put his head in his hands. He'd begged Ron for a moment alone and had been rushed into somebody's office in the Department of Mysteries. Harry didn't hear the hushed voices outside the door anymore; perhaps everyone had left. Maybe he could just leave.
Except he couldn't. God, it had been a beautiful summer day just a few hours ago. He had planned to have lunch with Ron at the Ministry before taking the train to Hogwarts. Harry hadn't been here since his last day as an Auror. At nearly 65 years old, he wasn't even the eldest Auror at the time. Now almost ten years later, the calm in the Wizarding world was just the same as when he'd left the Ministry. Enough time had passed to feel like life would always be this way.
Harry strained to remember what had happened before everything turned upside down. Ron had just gone to get his coat and then they heard the commotion in a nearby coordinator outside Ron's office. Paper memos that had been lazily drifting above their heads were now speeding frantically, one fluttering down upon Ron's desk with the words Emergency in the Department of Mysteries. A prophecy?
Harry's head ached as he remembered the words from the voice that had seemed to be coming just from behind the veil:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"
Harry jerked his head up at the sudden knock at the door.
"Harry? Can I come in?"
-
Hermione had re-heated the tea and urged him to drink. Harry did so, but only because she looked so terrified.
"Ron was worried you weren't going to come out," Hermione said. "Is it true? A new prophecy?"
"Started off just like mine," Harry said. "But it… he's gone, Hermione. I know he is. I can't feel him anymore."
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, her lips drawn in a tight line as if she were afraid to speak. But age had put no damper on Hermione's determination.
"Isn't it strange that it happened while you were here?" she said. "Nothing's stirred beyond the veil since, well, since we were children. Do you think–"
"How am I supposed to know?" Harry said, standing up abruptly. She stepped back, her hand falling back to her side as if burned. "Everyone thinks I ought to have the answer because it once was me."
"They're just scared," Hermione said quietly. "Decades of peace, Harry. Generations of children who've never known anything like we did. But this prophecy didn't sound that clear except for the first part."
"I know," Harry said. "That's the worst bit. 'Born to parents of magic unknown.' Muggles, perhaps? Squibs? It's a needle in a haystack. If someone's been trying to follow in Voldemort's footsteps…"
"The Ministry would know," Hermione said. She frowned. "How did the prophecy come from the veil, not a Seer?"
"I wish they were calling on you to solve this instead of me," Harry chuckled ruefully. He reached out and hugged her tightly, his forehead buried into her shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."
He felt her arms squeeze around him and the tender embrace finally released the brimming tears in the corners of his eyes.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to parents of magic unknown. The Dark Lord will know them not, but they will be guided by one who has known evil and vanquished it completely."
-
"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?" Ron asked. He and Hermione had escorted Harry to the train where his packed trunks had already been delivered. "We'll drive you in the morning."
"I should go," Harry said. "News will have already reached the staff and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it appears in the Daily Prophet. Excellent start to my first year as Headmaster, wouldn't you say?"
"We'll send you anything we hear from the Ministry," Ron said urgently. "All the Aurors are on this, Harry. You're not–"
"Alone?" Harry interrupted. He immediately felt terrible when Ron's face furrowed with sadness at the bitterness in Harry's voice. Harry pulled Ron into a close embrace and swallowed hard when he let him go.
"Of course not," Hermione said as she grabbed Harry for a quick hug as well. The train shrieked its last warning whistle. "If you need us, please send a message. All right?"
Harry attempted to manage a smile. "I'd thought this job might be a nice start to an eventual retirement," Harry said.
He'd already been so weak around them both, he didn't want them to realise he wasn't up to the task.
-
Harry was grateful that he'd booked a private seat on the train. He'd waved to Ron and Hermione on the platform until they disappeared from sight. Going to Hogwarts was the best way to run away, far away from the Ministry and everything that had happened.
As the sky grew dark, he could see his reflection in the train window. Perhaps it was the shadows playing tricks on his mind, but it seemed like he could see his face changing through the years of his life. The wide eyes of an expectant first-year student slowly transforming to his own face now with deep lines in his brow. The only thing that remained constant was his scar.
He slumped in his seat. Was there some child in a cradle somewhere right now; a babe blissfully unaware of their future fate? Were their parents kind and caring? He looked down at his empty arms. He thought of Dumbledore standing in front of the Dursley's home. Knowing what he must do to protect Harry. Would Harry have done the same? As frustrating as it was to not know who the prophecy spoke of or where they were, he wondered maybe it was best that he had time to think about this.
-
Harry dreamed of the train station. Instead of Dumbledore sitting there on the bench beside him, it was Voldemort. He was dressed like a businessman heading to work; he even had a slim briefcase beside him. Voldemort grinned.
"You're in quite a state, old man."
"Are you here to help me?" Harry said. When he looked down at his clothes, he saw he was wearing the Headmaster's robes. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest.
Voldemort gave a careless shrug and picked up the briefcase as Harry heard the sound of a train pulling into the station. He couldn't see the train, but he could hear the huff of the engine and the distant whistle. He didn't want to look away from Voldemort, but he had to look under the bench. This time it was a child wrapped in a blanket, its eyes closed in sleep. The child stirred, making soft cooing sounds as its eyes slowly started to open.
"There will be signs."
Harry woke up with a strangled cry. He looked around, not knowing where he was. He was in his bedroom. Well, the Headmaster's bedroom. It didn't really feel quite like his yet. His head was throbbing as he reached for the water glass. Same damn dream. He'd been at Hogwarts for a week now and still no news and certainly no signs, whatever that was supposed to mean.
Not all the staff had arrived at Hogwarts yet, which was good because he didn't feel like he had the strength to deal with too many questions. He especially wasn't ready to face all the students. Looking to him for guidance. Protection.
Harry suddenly hurled the water glass across the room with an angry grunt.This wasn't supposed to be happening! Hadn't he had enough?
Harry muttered to himself as he stumbled out of bed, reaching for his wand. He felt like a doddering old man, any moment he was going to just start saying nonsense just like–
He stopped in his tracks dumbstruck. A horrible thought crept into his head as he remembered Dumbledore in the Great Hall, the first year he'd heard him speak. Harry had thought him rather funny at the time. Absurd. Was it the weight Dumbledore had carried that had caused him to present an altogether different picture around everyone else?
-
He didn't go back to sleep that night. Once it was light, he made his way to Dumbledore's tomb. When Harry was still in school, Dumbledore had been the only wizard to be buried on the school grounds. After the Battle of Hogwarts was over, others had been buried there. Still, the white tomb stood out among the rest.
Harry sat down heavily upon a bench under a flowering tree, his fingers tracing the words of remembrance to the dead upon the bench's surface. Friends were here. Loved ones.
"I can't take another war," Harry said.
"Me neither. Mind if I join you?
Harry hadn't realised he'd been followed but he recognised Neville's voice. Harry nodded and Neville sat down beside him, his hands clasped together loosely on his lap.
"I'm really sorry you're going through this," Neville said.
"Me?" Harry said, a little surprised. "I mean, aren't we all?"
"But it can't be easy," Neville added. He was looking in the direction of the tomb. "Wonder what he would be doing."
"Dumbledore didn't know what he was doing," Harry said bitterly. "He told me that much."
Neville nodded slowly. They sat in silence for a moment. Beyond the graves, Harry could see the Great Lake as still as a looking glass.
"At least he knew where to look," Harry said finally. "I don't know where to start."
"But this supposed Dark Lord doesn't know either," Neville said. "Maybe you'll have a head start this time."
"I don't–I don't want to do this to them."
He didn't know why he was saying these things to Neville. Harry knew he ought to show strength, to not waver. But then he remembered Dumbledore's tears and how he now knew that emotions were not a weakness. Not when times were the darkest.
"There's time," Neville said quietly. "Maybe you'll get a sign…"
"What?" Harry said. He snapped out of his grief and looked to Neville in shock. "What did you say?"
"I–why are you looking at me like that?"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry, it's probably nothing. Weird coincidence, that's all."
"Listen," Neville said. "Whatever happens, they'll be lucky to have you."
"I'm not sure what's worse," Harry said with a dry chuckle. "That there's the possibility we'll face something as terrible as Voldemort again or that I'll have to mentor their killer."
"We have experience on our side," Neville said with a grin. He stood up and offered Harry his hand. "I'll help, Harry. We all will, if you let us."
Harry suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he realised how much he'd started to prepare himself for this burden. For the worse. Harry took Neville's hand and smiled. Then it struck him. He put his other hand on his chest, overcome. Neville gripped his hand more tightly, looking at him worriedly.
"What is it?"
"They called me the chosen one," Harry said, his smile growing even wider. "But in the end it was never just me. I had friends. No matter who this new chosen one is, they won't be alone. I know this in my heart, I just… I just do."
Harry felt the ache in his bones suddenly seem to melt away with relief and resolve. Neville's grip was a tight anchor to the reality that he didn't have to be tossed through the memories of his past. There was still so much more to come.
It was a beautiful summer day. Soon, the boats would cross the lake with new first-years and other students beginning a new year of school. Whatever else came to Hogwarts, Harry now knew he would be ready.
-
In the Department of Mysteries, the veil stirred and its whispers rose up once more.
"… another comes that will defy the Dark Lord, born as the third month dies. Another comes that will defy the Dark Lord, born under a full moon. They will be joined by another…
…and another…
Author:
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2093
Content/Warning(s): EWE, Background Ron/Hermione, Headmaster Harry, Friendship, Prophecy, Veil of Death, Hopeful Ending, Neville&Harry, Harry&Ron&Hermione
Summary/Prompt: Harry is visiting Ron at the Ministry when there's an emergency in the Department of Mysteries. A new chosen one who will stop an unknown evil that has yet to come. After decades of peace, this causes a flood of memories for Harry, who decided to become Hogwarts Headmaster as a way to ease into his retirement years.
A/N: Many thanks to G for being an awesome beta and thanks to the fest mods! ♥ This is one of my all-time favorite fests and so glad to be a part of it again. Thanks as well for a prompt that really got me thinking about what Harry would do in this situation!
Read on AO3 or below:
The tea on the desk had gone cold. Harry hadn't touched it since Ron brought it in. Instead Harry had stared at the rising steam from the cup until it faded, his mind clouded with fear.
Harry put his head in his hands. He'd begged Ron for a moment alone and had been rushed into somebody's office in the Department of Mysteries. Harry didn't hear the hushed voices outside the door anymore; perhaps everyone had left. Maybe he could just leave.
Except he couldn't. God, it had been a beautiful summer day just a few hours ago. He had planned to have lunch with Ron at the Ministry before taking the train to Hogwarts. Harry hadn't been here since his last day as an Auror. At nearly 65 years old, he wasn't even the eldest Auror at the time. Now almost ten years later, the calm in the Wizarding world was just the same as when he'd left the Ministry. Enough time had passed to feel like life would always be this way.
Harry strained to remember what had happened before everything turned upside down. Ron had just gone to get his coat and then they heard the commotion in a nearby coordinator outside Ron's office. Paper memos that had been lazily drifting above their heads were now speeding frantically, one fluttering down upon Ron's desk with the words Emergency in the Department of Mysteries. A prophecy?
Harry's head ached as he remembered the words from the voice that had seemed to be coming just from behind the veil:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"
Harry jerked his head up at the sudden knock at the door.
"Harry? Can I come in?"
-
Hermione had re-heated the tea and urged him to drink. Harry did so, but only because she looked so terrified.
"Ron was worried you weren't going to come out," Hermione said. "Is it true? A new prophecy?"
"Started off just like mine," Harry said. "But it… he's gone, Hermione. I know he is. I can't feel him anymore."
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, her lips drawn in a tight line as if she were afraid to speak. But age had put no damper on Hermione's determination.
"Isn't it strange that it happened while you were here?" she said. "Nothing's stirred beyond the veil since, well, since we were children. Do you think–"
"How am I supposed to know?" Harry said, standing up abruptly. She stepped back, her hand falling back to her side as if burned. "Everyone thinks I ought to have the answer because it once was me."
"They're just scared," Hermione said quietly. "Decades of peace, Harry. Generations of children who've never known anything like we did. But this prophecy didn't sound that clear except for the first part."
"I know," Harry said. "That's the worst bit. 'Born to parents of magic unknown.' Muggles, perhaps? Squibs? It's a needle in a haystack. If someone's been trying to follow in Voldemort's footsteps…"
"The Ministry would know," Hermione said. She frowned. "How did the prophecy come from the veil, not a Seer?"
"I wish they were calling on you to solve this instead of me," Harry chuckled ruefully. He reached out and hugged her tightly, his forehead buried into her shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."
He felt her arms squeeze around him and the tender embrace finally released the brimming tears in the corners of his eyes.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to parents of magic unknown. The Dark Lord will know them not, but they will be guided by one who has known evil and vanquished it completely."
-
"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?" Ron asked. He and Hermione had escorted Harry to the train where his packed trunks had already been delivered. "We'll drive you in the morning."
"I should go," Harry said. "News will have already reached the staff and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it appears in the Daily Prophet. Excellent start to my first year as Headmaster, wouldn't you say?"
"We'll send you anything we hear from the Ministry," Ron said urgently. "All the Aurors are on this, Harry. You're not–"
"Alone?" Harry interrupted. He immediately felt terrible when Ron's face furrowed with sadness at the bitterness in Harry's voice. Harry pulled Ron into a close embrace and swallowed hard when he let him go.
"Of course not," Hermione said as she grabbed Harry for a quick hug as well. The train shrieked its last warning whistle. "If you need us, please send a message. All right?"
Harry attempted to manage a smile. "I'd thought this job might be a nice start to an eventual retirement," Harry said.
He'd already been so weak around them both, he didn't want them to realise he wasn't up to the task.
-
Harry was grateful that he'd booked a private seat on the train. He'd waved to Ron and Hermione on the platform until they disappeared from sight. Going to Hogwarts was the best way to run away, far away from the Ministry and everything that had happened.
As the sky grew dark, he could see his reflection in the train window. Perhaps it was the shadows playing tricks on his mind, but it seemed like he could see his face changing through the years of his life. The wide eyes of an expectant first-year student slowly transforming to his own face now with deep lines in his brow. The only thing that remained constant was his scar.
He slumped in his seat. Was there some child in a cradle somewhere right now; a babe blissfully unaware of their future fate? Were their parents kind and caring? He looked down at his empty arms. He thought of Dumbledore standing in front of the Dursley's home. Knowing what he must do to protect Harry. Would Harry have done the same? As frustrating as it was to not know who the prophecy spoke of or where they were, he wondered maybe it was best that he had time to think about this.
-
Harry dreamed of the train station. Instead of Dumbledore sitting there on the bench beside him, it was Voldemort. He was dressed like a businessman heading to work; he even had a slim briefcase beside him. Voldemort grinned.
"You're in quite a state, old man."
"Are you here to help me?" Harry said. When he looked down at his clothes, he saw he was wearing the Headmaster's robes. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest.
Voldemort gave a careless shrug and picked up the briefcase as Harry heard the sound of a train pulling into the station. He couldn't see the train, but he could hear the huff of the engine and the distant whistle. He didn't want to look away from Voldemort, but he had to look under the bench. This time it was a child wrapped in a blanket, its eyes closed in sleep. The child stirred, making soft cooing sounds as its eyes slowly started to open.
"There will be signs."
Harry woke up with a strangled cry. He looked around, not knowing where he was. He was in his bedroom. Well, the Headmaster's bedroom. It didn't really feel quite like his yet. His head was throbbing as he reached for the water glass. Same damn dream. He'd been at Hogwarts for a week now and still no news and certainly no signs, whatever that was supposed to mean.
Not all the staff had arrived at Hogwarts yet, which was good because he didn't feel like he had the strength to deal with too many questions. He especially wasn't ready to face all the students. Looking to him for guidance. Protection.
Harry suddenly hurled the water glass across the room with an angry grunt.This wasn't supposed to be happening! Hadn't he had enough?
Harry muttered to himself as he stumbled out of bed, reaching for his wand. He felt like a doddering old man, any moment he was going to just start saying nonsense just like–
He stopped in his tracks dumbstruck. A horrible thought crept into his head as he remembered Dumbledore in the Great Hall, the first year he'd heard him speak. Harry had thought him rather funny at the time. Absurd. Was it the weight Dumbledore had carried that had caused him to present an altogether different picture around everyone else?
-
He didn't go back to sleep that night. Once it was light, he made his way to Dumbledore's tomb. When Harry was still in school, Dumbledore had been the only wizard to be buried on the school grounds. After the Battle of Hogwarts was over, others had been buried there. Still, the white tomb stood out among the rest.
Harry sat down heavily upon a bench under a flowering tree, his fingers tracing the words of remembrance to the dead upon the bench's surface. Friends were here. Loved ones.
"I can't take another war," Harry said.
"Me neither. Mind if I join you?
Harry hadn't realised he'd been followed but he recognised Neville's voice. Harry nodded and Neville sat down beside him, his hands clasped together loosely on his lap.
"I'm really sorry you're going through this," Neville said.
"Me?" Harry said, a little surprised. "I mean, aren't we all?"
"But it can't be easy," Neville added. He was looking in the direction of the tomb. "Wonder what he would be doing."
"Dumbledore didn't know what he was doing," Harry said bitterly. "He told me that much."
Neville nodded slowly. They sat in silence for a moment. Beyond the graves, Harry could see the Great Lake as still as a looking glass.
"At least he knew where to look," Harry said finally. "I don't know where to start."
"But this supposed Dark Lord doesn't know either," Neville said. "Maybe you'll have a head start this time."
"I don't–I don't want to do this to them."
He didn't know why he was saying these things to Neville. Harry knew he ought to show strength, to not waver. But then he remembered Dumbledore's tears and how he now knew that emotions were not a weakness. Not when times were the darkest.
"There's time," Neville said quietly. "Maybe you'll get a sign…"
"What?" Harry said. He snapped out of his grief and looked to Neville in shock. "What did you say?"
"I–why are you looking at me like that?"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry, it's probably nothing. Weird coincidence, that's all."
"Listen," Neville said. "Whatever happens, they'll be lucky to have you."
"I'm not sure what's worse," Harry said with a dry chuckle. "That there's the possibility we'll face something as terrible as Voldemort again or that I'll have to mentor their killer."
"We have experience on our side," Neville said with a grin. He stood up and offered Harry his hand. "I'll help, Harry. We all will, if you let us."
Harry suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he realised how much he'd started to prepare himself for this burden. For the worse. Harry took Neville's hand and smiled. Then it struck him. He put his other hand on his chest, overcome. Neville gripped his hand more tightly, looking at him worriedly.
"What is it?"
"They called me the chosen one," Harry said, his smile growing even wider. "But in the end it was never just me. I had friends. No matter who this new chosen one is, they won't be alone. I know this in my heart, I just… I just do."
Harry felt the ache in his bones suddenly seem to melt away with relief and resolve. Neville's grip was a tight anchor to the reality that he didn't have to be tossed through the memories of his past. There was still so much more to come.
It was a beautiful summer day. Soon, the boats would cross the lake with new first-years and other students beginning a new year of school. Whatever else came to Hogwarts, Harry now knew he would be ready.
-
In the Department of Mysteries, the veil stirred and its whispers rose up once more.
"… another comes that will defy the Dark Lord, born as the third month dies. Another comes that will defy the Dark Lord, born under a full moon. They will be joined by another…
…and another…