7 A Need To Lie

5:10 AM - Great Hall, Hogwarts

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around me as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air; the Muffliato Charm broken apart, as their magic synchronized as one to pierce through it. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward me, the first to reach me being Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around my body, their incomprehensible shouts deafening to my ears.

Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and I could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, not tell whose hands were seizing me, pulling at my clothes, trying to hug some part of my person, as hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last-- The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light.

I was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted me there with them, their leader and symbol, their savior and their guide, and the thought that the body I had transmigrated into, Harry's, had not slept, and I craved the company of none of them, 'Sorry Harry, but I won't be as close with them as you have been,' seemed to occur to no one.

I began focusing on the faces around me, consoling the grieving sons, daughters and parents, clasping their hands, as I witnessed their tears, received their thanks, and heard the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.

They moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away form the bodies of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey, and fifty others who had died fighting him. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in the corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, I found myself sitting on a bench beside Luna.

"I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me," she said.

"I'd love some," I replied.

"I'll distract them all," she said. "Use your cloak."

And before I could say a word, she had cried, "Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!" and pointed out the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and I slid the Cloak out from my [Soul Dimension] and up over myself, and got to my feet.

Now I could move through the Hall without interference. I spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder: There would be time to talk later, 'I can't leave the poor girl waiting around forever for someone who has no affection for her.'. I saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and I spotted the three Malfoys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. Everywhere I looked, I saw families reunited.

Happiness would come, I though, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the memories I was constantly reviewing, memories of losing Fred and Lupin and Tonks pierced me like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all I felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first I owed an explanation to Ron and Hermione, who had stuck with by Harry for so long, and who deserved the truth.

Painstakingly I recounted what Harry had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened to him in the forest, all details of my over-taking his body being left unmentioned, and they had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement, when I mentioned I had something to talk to Dumbledore about.

"Let us come with you, Harry." Insisted Hermione, as Ron nodded his head along with her outburst.

"It's something I have to do by myself." I said, eyes solemnly looking into theirs, as I walked away, not allowing for any discussion to breakout.

They weren't accounted for in what I had planned.

'Phew, Hermione not pushing something for once really gives a feel for the scope and tragedy of things.'

I made my way out of the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred ever few steps as I climbed.

Thinking on what I planned to do requiring Harry's wand in its broken state, I quickly wiped the Elder Wand towards a piece of rock, as I softly intoned "𝘝𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴" desperate to make it look as realistic as possible, remembering all the curves and groves it had, its sheen and colour, as a small tendril of my own magic was instantly sucked into it, amplified out of proportions; it barrelled out from its tip, stretching over the piece of rock, morphing it into what I pictured in my minds eye. I than picked it up and put it in the moleskin pouch around my neck.

The original, unbroken wand, Holly with a Phoenix feather core, was transported back into my [Soul Dimension].

Somewhere in the distance I could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

"We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one, "

"And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!

'Ah, Peeves.' I though, dismissively waving my wand, magic still bubbling from my encounter with Voldemort rushing out, banishing a door out of my way, when at last I arrived at the place to which I had been walking.

Since my last memories of it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and I wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.

"Can I go up?" I asked the gargoyle.

"Feel free," groaned the statue.

I clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator, preparing myself to what was to come as Harry pushed open the door at the top.

I had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where I remembered Harry leaving it, and then an earsplitting noise made me cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort.

But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving me a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on their chairs in which they have been painted: Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Niggelus called, in his high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"

But I had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled me with the same balm as a phoenix song.

At last, I held up my hand, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for me to speak. I directed my words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. I had a plan in mind. Exhausted and bleary-eyed as I was, I had to make one last effort, to fake what Harry had done in canon.

"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," I began, "I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?" I asked, pretending to sound as serious as I could, initiating the first step of my elaborate scheme.

"My dear boy, I do," said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone know else know where it fell?"

"No one," I replied, looking at the star representing the Resurrection Stone in my [Soul Dimension], and Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction.

"I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though," I said, and Dumbledore beamed.

"But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this."

I held up the Elder Wand, and a rare few of the headmasters and headmistresses gasped, looking at it with a reverence that I, even in my befuddled and sleep-deprived state, did not like to see.

"I don't want it." I said, trying my best to ignore the hum of distress from the Wand.

'It's only a ruse, I don't want people chasing after me for having you, not until I'm confident enough to defend myself,' I conveyed to the wand, behind the safety of my mind.

"What?" shouted some of the portraits. "Are you mental?"

"I know it's powerful," I continued wearily. "But I was happier with mine. So..."

I rummaged through the pouch hung around my neck, and pulled out the two halves of transfigured holly wand still just connected by the finest thread of fake phoenix feather.

I laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and thought '𝘝𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴', the transfiguration spell coming to me easier now, as I pictured a repaired version of my wand, while on the outside where the portraits could here me, I whispered, "𝘙𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘰."

As the transfigured wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end, conjured by my magic as a by-produced of my transfiguration. I than picked up the transfigured holly and phoenix wand and felt...

... nothing as expected, but I put on a bright smile to continue the act nonetheless.

"I'm putting the Elder Wand," I said to Dumbledore, who was watching me with enormous affection and admiration, "back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

'Sorry Sir, but this is a tool that will help me in my endeavors, and I cannot allow the fools of this world to know its in my hands.' I thought, the small guilt I felt instantly being squashed.

Dumbledore nodded. We smiled at each other.

"Are you sure?" asked Phineas Niggelus. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth." I replied. "And quite honestly," I turned away from the painted portraits, quickly slipping it inside my [Soul Dimension], thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for me in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might reply to my call to bring me a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

'Harry has, poor boy, but I'll make sure to create the most awe inspiring image I can of him, his name resounding throughout all the corners of the magical world, a great defender and protector of its people.'

But, I'll do it my way.

...

Minutes after Voldemort's death - Location Unknown

I wondered what it was that had my heart beating anxiously today, as the cold winter breeze entered through the window to the left of my desk, ruffling my hair briefly, failing to calm my hearts erratic beats.

Suddenly, a commotion originating from the entrance of my chamber disturbing me from my musings. In walked my equal in all but temperament, chest puffed in mirth not known to me, the vilest of magic rolling of his body, as my secretary, 'slave', chased behind him.

"Elder, you cannot without permission from my master, enter his chambers unannounced." she screeched.

*Crack*

With a swift wave of his hands, his magic took a hold of her head, twisting it till she died.

"Dhul-Qarr, I just heard the most shocking of news from my spies in the British Isles." he said, eyes intently staring at my face, unperturbed with what he had just done.

'Ugh, not again with this fool. That's the fifth one he's killed this month. What will the Human Resources Department think of me when I ask for a replacement again in the same month.' I thought, bringing out my own magic to pressure him, gesturing at her body, instantly vanishing it.

"What is it this time?" I replied in an annoyed manner.

"Oh, don't be so quick to write me of this time old friend - for I just heard news pertaining to your wayward apprentice, your supposed heir, Tom Riddle." he said.

I could not control the shock that flited through my eyes, instantly attempting to school my expression, but judging from the way his eyes alighted in mirth, it seemed he noticed it.

"Oh, so it seems you do still worry about him. What a naughty, naughty man you have been Dhul-Qarr; blatantly lying to the Supreme Ones face about no longer caring about the boy." he said.

"Since you care so much about him - oh yes, don't think I didn't notice - I thought it imperative for me to let you know as soon as I found out. It seems your apprentice has had himself offed: And by a school child nonetheless." he said, in that annoyingly succinct voice of his.

My mind came to a grinding halt, not caring to suppress the tumultuous wave of emotions that flashed across my face, shock ripping through my being.

'WHAT?!'

Time unknown - ICW meeting, France

"Order!" I bellowed, as the sounds of the confederations members arguing over each other derailed the meeting from its intended purpose. Yet, they all continued on, blubbering, attempting to best each other with their wits.

I couldn't help but recall how Albus used to lead them by their nose, as if they were entrapped, his charms and eloquent nature eclipsing theirs.

'What got you killed old friend, because I know for certain the way you died was not coincidental.' I thought solemnly.

"Akingbade, for goodness sake, do something about this racket. You are the Supreme Mugwump attending are you not?" exclaimed Delacour from my left.

"Why have we done nothing about that mad man terrorising those poor people. Is it because we aren't yet to judge them worthy of our help, or is it because we have deemed Voldemort to not be a threat to the wizarding world outside the British Isles?" shouted a familiar voice.

"ORDER!" I shouted, this time putting the full weight of my magic behind my voice, as it boomed across the gathering.

"Order. I understand you all have your disagreements between what the ICW should have done, but that is not why I have called this meeting for. We are not here to discuss, to debate, but rather to take action against those that wish us harm: No matter where they are." I said.

"The British Isles have not received our help because Dumbledore, our Supreme Mugwump before his untimely death, never asked for assistance; and as we always do, we assumed him to be capable of handling matters in his own domain. And, yet, even the most powerful amongst us is not safe from death." I continued, in reply to the outburst that I had heard.

'It was as if he knew something we did not. As if he believed we weren't capable of killing Voldemort.' I thought.

"But, now that I am in that position, I propose a joint venture between the member states of this venerable confederation to-"

The entrance being flung open disrupted my speech as a person rushed inside, eyes alight with surprise.

"-Supreme Mugwump, Harry, Harry Potter has killed the Dark Lord." he exclaimed in disbelief. "I just got word from the British Ministry moments ago."

The room suddenly become deadly silent, as we all looked towards him, faces twisting in disbelief.

"WHAT?"

The perfect silence was broken by the collective exclamation of surprise by everyone in the gathering, mine included.