desire .

Moment of Silence

ao3 author: undercoverwarlock

summary: Hogwarts would always be there, a home for anyone... even Draco Malfoy. Harry would make sure of that.

It took them a year to rebuild Hogwarts. A year of Harry, Ron, Hermione, the professors, their classmates – as many of them that could manage anyway – rebuilding their home, stone by stone. Older students taught the younger ones how to reconstruct walls with a charm. The Muggle-borns showed those from wizarding families how to mop and sweep and dust while the house elves that had survived watched with trepidation. Hagrid cut down trees from the Forbidden Forest with care to shape new beams, doors, house tables. And every night, they pulled together to cook dinner and eat in the Great Hall, less like a school and more like a family. It was an awkward, uncomfortable year. Near the end of it, as Harry walked with Ron, Hermione and McGonagall through the empty corridors, they talked about reopening properly in the fall.

“There won’t be many students,” said McGonagall with a sniff. She pulled out a tartan handkerchief and fussed with her glasses, and the other three looked away politely so they couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “Many families won’t want their children here. Not for a long time, I suspect.”

“That’s alright,” said Harry. He looked through one of the windows out towards the grounds. The window had once held a stained glass portrait of some great wizard, but they could only find fragments, so now it was a kaleidoscope of colour and disjointed body parts – a hand raised in blessing or warning, a foot sticking out beneath a robe, a worried face. “Whoever comes, Hogwarts will be here for them. That’s how this place started, right, Professor? Then that’s how it will be.”

So when less than a hundred students returned for the Start of Year feast, Harry tried not to be disappointed. Those returning for their “eighth year” sat at their own table while the rest mingled together, regardless of House, at the remaining tables. Harry looked out across the upturned faces as McGonagall rose to address them after the Sorting – only five new students, and they all sat with their siblings or by themselves slightly apart from the rest. He smiled grimly at the hope, the quiet determination he saw in those young faces. Most had been there repairing the castle over the last year. They knew what they were in for.

“As most of you will know, this will not be an ordinary year at Hogwarts.” McGonagall braced her fingertips at the podium – Dumbledore’s podium, Harry thought reflexively, no, not anymore – before she continued. “We have sorted the first years who have joined us as is our tradition, but since there are so few of us…. Well. It has been decided amongst the faculty that instead of dividing everyone by House, we will instead be dividing by year. The first and second years will have the Hufflepuff dormitories by the kitchen – one of our eighth years will show you,” here she gestured at Susan Bones, who stood with an encouraging smile. “Third and fourth years will be in the Slytherin dormitories, fifth and sixth years in Ravenclaw, and seventh and eighth years in Gryffindor. At the end of the year, we will be holding the end of year exams as usual, as well as O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s for anyone wishing to take them. That just leaves one last order of business.” At this, McGonagall straightened her shoulders, as if steeling herself for some great challenge. Harry’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at Ron and Hermione, who shook their heads. Then, McGonagall said, “I would be dishonouring our late Headmaster’s memory if I didn’t finish this evening with a round of our school song.”

Everyone but the first years burst into laughter. Nonetheless, as McGonagall charmed the lyrics to unroll themselves on a scroll above her head, everyone joined in to sing along. Harry looked around again as he sang, grinning, when he thought he heard the doors to the Hall opening. He narrowed his eyes. A tall, thin figure had slipped in during the chorus and was standing with his back against the door, watching the students sing in silence. Harry would know that white-blonde hair anywhere. He swore under his breath. Ron and Hermione turned their heads to follow his gaze.