The Weald, Kent, Britain, October 2nd, 1999, 09.15 hours

Albus Dumbledore had never been as relieved in his whole life as when he saw the green shade appear again, floating in the air. He held the Resurrection Stone, but before he could use it, he saw that the shade was not moving as before, but fading. And he heard it scream in terror.

"Noooooo!"

The scream grew weaker as the shade dissipated. It didn't take more than a few seconds, and the Dark Lord was gone. It was over.

Harry pulled his cloak off. The cloak that had not hidden him from Voldemort's soul. Something Albus should have anticipated. The boy was on his knees, panting and retching. Miss Weasley and Sirius were there, kneeling in the mud next to him, holding him, hugging him.

A flick of his wrist and a whispered syllable told Albus that the boy, no, the man, was not seriously hurt. Not like other victims of a possession. Harry's scar was bleeding, but that was it. Though Albus didn't know how badly his mind had been hurt by the Dark Lord. He could only hope for the best.

"What happened?"

Albus turned towards the Wand-Commander. "The Dark Lord's shade tried to possess Harry. He failed."

"Did he survive the attempt?" She stared at him.

The old wizard shook his head. "He is dead for real now. He will not be coming back." Not unless Albus summoned his soul with the Resurrection Stone, at least. But even that might fail with a soul damaged by Horcruxes. Not that he had any intention of doing that. The Wand-Commander looked a bit doubtful, so he met her eyes and added. "I am certain. I have been working for twenty years to achieve this, Commander."

Sarah nodded at him. "It's over then."

"The battle is over," he answered, "though I fear that the aftermath will keep challenging us for quite some time." The seeds Tom had sown had not all been dealt with, after all. "And the price we paid for this was very high indeed." Although not as high as he had feared, he thought, looking at Harry. The last resort that Albus and the young man had talked about, in private, had not been needed.

"Indeed. We've lost the entire Curse-Breaking team. Twenty Wands were killed and more are wounded. And most of your friends died as well." Sarah sounded very matter-of-fact. He hadn't expected anything else - she was the leader of the Wands, and had known what to expect from previous battles.

He nodded. "The Order members were brave, but most of them lacked training and experience."

"Most, but not all," Sarah said, looking at the small group that had gathered around Harry. "We've identified Rabastan Lestrange among those killed while attacking our position. He was the last ranking Death Eater who had not yet been accounted for. Unless that was a decoy."

"Unlikely. The Lestrange were fanatical in their devotion to the Dark Lord. They would not have deserted him." They had spent almost twenty years trying to resurrect Tom.

Sarah nodded, accepting his reasoning. "I've called the Obliviators to help with the mopping up." She looked at him, as if waiting for a reaction.

"Good." Albus smiled. If the young witch thought he'd make an issue about her ordering the exiles who had taken up the duties of the Obliviators, then she was mistaken. Lucius might have cared about such power plays, but the old wizard preferred to care about things that mattered. "They have their work cut out for them."

Sarah shrugged, unconcerned. It was understandable, of course. Compared to fighting the Dark Lord's followers and monsters, this was an easy task. Not that the Wands were the type to avoid hard work.

Albus watched Harry and his family and friends again. They were alive, whole, and together. He was happy for them, proud of what they had achieved, and yet sad - he wasn't part of them. Couldn't be part of them, not after what he had done, and had been willing to do.

He had sent so many to their death, risked the lives of friends and innocents… all to defeat two evil men before they could do worse.

Then and there, watching the survivors of his campaign, and the dead laid down in rows nearby, many of them old friends of his, people who had trusted him to lead them, he hoped that it had all been worth it.

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Ron Weasley didn't remember how Hermione had ended up in his arms. Sometime between the moment Harry had started screaming, and the end of Voldemort he must have grabbed her, he thought. He wouldn't be able to tell how much time had passed either.

But it was over now. Voldemort was dead. His shade gone. And Harry had survived. Ron's best friend was on his knees, retching and in pain, but he was alive. Dumbledore had even said that the man wasn't seriously hurt. Unless Ginny hugged him to death now.

Ron turned his attention to his girlfriend. "Hermione," he whispered. When she turned her head towards him, he kissed her. The twins made some remarks, but he ignored them, and everyone else, for a while.

After they broke off the kiss, she stayed in his arms, leaning against his chest. He suddenly felt guilty for being happy while Hermione had lost both Dean and Colin - her closest family. And yet he couldn't help it. They were alive, they were together, that was all that mattered, right now.

"I pushed him out. He was trying to break my mind, possess me, but I pushed him out."

Harry's voice drew his attention. Ron's friend was standing now, if on still trembling legs, but Ginny steadied him. He shook his head. "So much fear and hatred…"

"Those emotions often go hand in hand." Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I am sorry for my mistake, Harry. The truth behind the legend was not what I thought, and it put you at a grave risk."

Harry waved the old wizard's words away. "It ended well, sir. It seems the prophecy was not fulfilled in 1981."

Ginny glared at Dumbledore, but didn't say anything. His little sister had grown up, Ron knew.

Sirius shook his head. "As long as it doesn't happen again."

"What? You don't want me to survive the next attack by a Dark Lord?" Harry grinned when his godfather started to splutter.

"Professor, what were those monsters? I did not recognise them." Hermione apparently had decided that if Harry was joking, she could ask questions.

"Blood Inferi, Miss Hermione. Those abominations were theorised by Herpo the Foul, but he did not succeed in creating them. They were created by Grindelwald, but he didn't use them in his war, mainly because he himself appalled at his creation. You too have felt how wrong and unnatural they were. I had thought the secret of their creation lost with Grindelwald, but obviously Voldemort must have found the knowledge to create them. And the desperation to use them." Dumbledore sighed. "I can but hope that this time, the knowledge died with the Dark Lord."

Hermione shuddered, no doubt recalling just how unnatural those abominations had felt, and Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He felt queasy himself, remembering those monsters.

Around them, the last of the creatures were burning down to ashes. Wands were spreading out, setting more on fire, all over the battlefield. And the wounded were being evacuated - the twins were already protesting.

"Some might be stuck underground," Hermione said. "There was quite a lot of the ground transfigured into stone."

"Indeed, Miss Hermione." Dumbledore nodded. "But their presence will not be too difficult to detect. And I think most of them, maybe all of them, even, managed to reach the surface. They are, or were, remarkably resourceful for such creatures, at least with regards to killing. Quite a difference to normal Inferi."

"While this talk about bloodthirsty undead is quite fascinating," Harry cut in, "what happens now? Apart from cleaning up after ourselves."

"We return to London, to rest and recover," Hermione said. "Relief forces will take over for us." She snorted. "Even Aurors can manage that."

"It's over then." Ginny smiled. "It's finally over."

"The war is over, yes," Dumbledore said, "although that does not mean we have achieved peace yet. The future of Wizarding Britain has yet to be agreed upon."

"What about the deal with the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"Without the threat from the Dark Lord, there will be quite a lot of support among a certain segment of the population to renegotiate that."

Hermione scoffed. "They didn't fight here. They didn't bleed and die for Britain. If they think they can dictate terms to us…" she trailed off with a grim expression.

"I do hope that the remaining differences will be amicably, or at least peacefully handled." Dumbledore said, with a rather tired smile.

Ron shrugged. He shared Hermione's view. "That depends on them."

His girlfriend nodded. "The privileges for purebloods ended with Malfoy and Voldemort. If they don't realise that, they'll have to be taught a lesson."

"The Old Families still have gold and influence," Sirius added.

"I think a number of them will be quite willing to help with rebuilding Britain, and restoring what was lost in the last two wars." Dumbledore smiled. "In fact, I am reasonably certain."

Ron grinned.

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London, Ministry of Magic, October 2nd, 1999, 10.30 hours

'... Wand Colin was killed in the first attack by the creatures. One of the creatures emerged from the ground behind him, killing him with its claws.'

Wand-Leader Hermione put her quill down and leaned back in her seat, sighing. She closed her eyes, then wiped away the tears that leaked out. Wand-Leader, without Wands to lead. Colin and Dean were both dead. Killed in action. Like so many others. Curse it!

She stood up and filed the basic reports. She could write a detailed report tomorrow. She'd need more information anyway. The battlefield was still getting cleaned up by the Aurors - they'd drag their feet, of course, fearing lingering Inferi - and most of the Wands were in St. Mungo's, getting treated, or resting. She should be resting as well, or so the Healer had said. Technically, she had been resting - desk duty was light duty. And she hadn't been really hurt. Nothing life-threatening. No dark curses. She had been lucky. Unlike Colin and Dean.

Sally-Anne was standing guard at the entrance. The Wand looked as bad as Hermione felt. She had been with the main force and come through the battle physically unscathed, but the loss of so many of her friends had hit her hard. Hermione nodded at her, then sighed and went over to hug the witch. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Sarah ordered everyone who was not wounded on their posts."

Hermione blinked. "That sounds ominous." The only ones who might move against the Corps would be the Aurors or the exiles. And she didn't think Dumbledore would do anything.

"Yes." Sally-Anne shook her head. "I thought it would be over, after today. Finally over."

"It is over," Hermione said. "Some idiots simply might not have realised it yet."

A few minutes later, Hermione was holding Luna in their shared quarters. The blonde witch was sobbing into Hermione's chest. "Dean, and Colin, and Jenny, and…" The Wand had expected this, knowing how close Luna felt to the Corps, after Hogwarts.

She caressed her friend's head and back. There wasn't much she could say that wouldn't sound stupid. She tried anyway. "The war's over though. The Dark Lord and his followers are dead."

Luna took a few minutes to calm down, then pushed back a bit, nodding slowly while she wiped her tears. "It's over then?"

"The war's over." Hermione smiled faintly.

"Tell me about the battle!" Luna pulled out her notepad. She sounded determined, but also almost desperate. Seeking refuge in a task she could do.

Hermione knew the feeling very well. It was how she dealt with such a loss, or tried to deal with. She nodded and started to tell her friend what had happened this morning. "We attacked in the early morning, encircling the hideout of the Dark Lord, and covering the area with Anti-Apparition and Portkey Jinxes, before our Curse-Breakers went to work on the wards and our flyers covered the airspace. But we had underestimated the Dark Lord…"

Hermione had to stop and compose herself a few times during her tale, and Luna didn't release her hand while the witch's Dicta Quill took notes. In a way, telling the events helped her as much as her friend, she found. "...and then the shade started to fade, and disappeared," she finished.

"A failed possession?"

"So I was told," she said. She wasn't privy to all details, Hermione knew. "It certainly was impressive." And some details didn't need to be told. Like the Horcruxes.

"The last Lestranges dead, the Dark Lord dead - many will sleep more easily today." Luna smiled. A weaker smile than her usual one, but it wasn't forced.

Hermione nodded. "I just hope that rebuilding and reforming Britain will go smoothly."

"The Rookery is coming along nicely."

Hermione hadn't meant it quite that literally. She nodded anyway.

"But you were hurt as well, weren't you?" Luna narrowed her eyes now.

"Just some cracks. Easily treated." Hermione smiled, or tried to.

"I should ask Ron about that."

Hermione lost her smile, and Luna shook her head. "What did the Healers say?"

She wasn't about to lie to her best friend. "They wanted me to rest."

"Then you will rest!" Luna stood up. "Or I'll have Voley sit on you."

"I was resting!" Hermione protested, though her friend was already dragging her out. "Where are we going?"

"To Ron, of course! He's probably the only way to get you to rest while I write the article."

She wasn't quite wrong there, Hermione admitted, if only to herself.

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London, Diagon Alley, October 2nd, 1999, 12.21 hours

Once more Diagon Alley was filled with yelling people and loud explosions were heard in the distance, though this time the explosions were fireworks, and the yelling came from wizards who were celebrating the end of the war. Ron Weasley shook his head, almost bemusedly, watching the crowd as he headed for the Leaky Cauldron with Hermione and Luna. "How quickly they turn around."

"Hm?" Luna looked up from where she was making notes on her pad while walking - or rather, while being gently steered by Hermione.

"I'm certain at least some of those cheering in the streets now were yelling at us a few days ago, ready to riot." Ron didn't say that too loudly though. He didn't want to start a fight.

Hermione scoffed. "They might very well try again. With the Dark Lord gone, some of the fools might think they don't need us anymore."

"Even with Dumbledore having defeated the Dark Lord in single combat, just as he defeated Grindelwald, therefore once more proving he is the most powerful wizard in Europe?" Luna cocked her head sideways. "Some of the purebloods might just be foolish enough to ignore that."

"Dumbledore's not one to flaunt his power. But I think the Ministry will know better," Ron said. They had made the deal, after all.

"A threat display might help. Like Chattering Chimpanzees, many purebloods react well to that." Luna nodded sagely. "Hermione knows how that works."

Ron raised his eyebrows at his girlfriend. Hermione hissed: "Luna! I told you back then! That was a standard exercise for Wands in training, not a threat display!"

"Same thing." Luna grinned, then blew on her pad. A sheet of parchment detached itself from it and rolled itself up. A minute later the ugliest bird Ron had ever seen landed on the blonde's shoulder. "Groucho! Excellent timing! Please take that to Daddy!" she cheered, and handed the scroll over. The bird took off again, with a screech that made half the street flinch and look around.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

"Plumed Georgian Spirit Vulture," Luna answered.

"Why is it called 'plumed'?" Hermione asked, blinking. "That bird was anything but plumed!"

"Daddy made a typo when he named it. He wanted to call them 'plucked'." Luna shrugged. "Renaming it would hurt Groucho's feelings, so we kept the name." She beamed at the couple.

Ron glanced at Hermione, who shrugged. He decided not to pursue that topic. "Let's head into muggle London. I doubt there'll be any tables free in Diagon Alley right now."

"And if there was, I'd not trust the cook to be sober," Hermione added.

"But drunk cooks make the best surprise menus!" Luna pouted. "Many great new dishes have been discovered with the help of alcohol!"

"Any many great poisons too, I bet," Hermione muttered. "Muggle London it is."

Luna kept pouting, but neither Ron nor Hermione caved, and the blonde soon was distracted by the need to dress as a muggle, and to pick one dress, instead of the four she wanted to combine into some unnatural mixture of styles, fabric and patterns. Nevertheless, a bit later the three found themselves in a small restaurant in the middle of London, waiting for their orders.

"What will you do now that spying and fighting is no longer needed?" Luna asked while twisting the straw of her drink into something else.

Ron glanced at Hermione, then answered: "I thought about joining the Ministry. I'm an experienced Gendarme, after all." He grinned. "Though I've been told by a reliable source that the Aurors are no place for a decent wizard."

Hermione grumbled something uncomplimentary about British Aurors that made Luna giggle. Ron grinned. Though if he was honest with himself, then he was a bit at a loss. He was no great Quidditch Player, like Harry, he hadn't an inheritance waiting for him, like Neville, and he had liked working as a Gendarme Magique. But the thought of working under the kind of wizards Hermione had told him about…

He sighed. Hopefully, something would come up.

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London, Ministry of Magic, October 3rd, 1999, 09.40 hours

Wand-Leader Hermione was in Wand-Commander Sarah's office, delivering the reports from Benjamin and herself, when Sally-Anne informed Sarah that John Dawlish had arrived. Sarah glanced at her watch and shook her head. "For once, he is early. He must be really eager to have this meeting."

Hermione stood and prepared to leave, but the Wand-Commander held her back. "Stay. I might need your unique perspective."

Meaning, her ties to Dumbledore's Order. Hermione nodded, and took up a spot next to Sarah's desk, presenting a united front of sorts when Sally-Anne let the Head Auror into the office.

"Good morning, Head Auror." Sarah greeted Dawlish. Hermione nodded at the wizard, and hoped her disdain for him was not too obvious.

"Good morning, Wand-Commander. I'm happy you found the time to meet with me." Dawlish's smile was as sincere as an Obliviator's report, Hermione thought.

"It was no problem," Sarah claimed. "How can I help you?"

Dawlish smile dimmed for a moment, but he recovered at once. "Oh, I'm here to help you, Given how many casualties the Wands have suffered, you must be struggling to handle all your tasks. Fortunately, the Aurors are ready to step in and relieve you."

So, that was his game. Hermione fought not to scowl at the idiot. Of course the scumbag would try this now. He probably had some backing from the Ministry as well.

Sarah looked puzzled. "Struggling? I fear you've been misinformed. The Wands are fulfilling their duty, as usual."

"You've lost half your force, Sarah." Dawlish was scowling now. "We had to finish the fight in Kent for you, losing half a dozen Aurors!"

That made Hermione blink. Did Dawlish actually claim his Aurors had fought in the battle against the Dark Lord? She almost drew her wand at the presumption of that idiot, trying to claim a victory her friends had died for!

Sarah must have had similar thoughts since the witch leaned forward and glared at the Head Auror. "Finish the fight for us? Your people were tasked with cleaning up a battlefield after we beat the Dark Lord's army. You lost six Aurors to a single creature that had been stuck underground - creature we killed by the dozens." She scoffed. "And now you're trying to twist this blunder into an attempt to take over? The Corps could have lost nine out of ten Wands, and your Aurors still wouldn't be able to fill our boots!"

Dawlish lost all pretense of joviality and was scowling at Sarah. "Don't act so high and mighty, Sarah! Did you forget that with the changes to the laws, you can't replace your losses? Sooner or later, the Wands will be gone!"

Sarah snorted. "That's what you think. The Corps will not fade away. We'll adapt and overcome this, just as we have done against the Dark Lord. Your Aurors? You can continue patrolling Diagon Alley and finding lost familiars while we continue keeping Britain safe. Now get out before I teach you why you shouldn't even dream of trying to claim a victory the Corps paid for with blood as your own!"

Dawlish paled, and all but fled - though he'd be blustering soon enough, once he was back in his office, Hermione knew. She turned to Sarah as soon as the door had closed behind the Head Auror. "That was great, Sarah."

"Thanks."

"But," Hermione bit her lower lip, "does that mean you like my idea?"

Sarah nodded. "It's not perfect, but it seems the best way to keep us going, without the Corps ending up as a bunch of privileged idiots like the Aurors." She sighed and sat down in her seat. "The sixth and seventh years we currently have at Hogwarts will have to tide us over until the first of the new recruits finish their training. But we'll have to set up an academy, and we might lose some of the instructors."

Hermione nodded. It wouldn't be easy, she knew that. But they'd succeed. Wands always did.