Home

Having received the brief note from Charlus, Minerva had barely slept and had spent much of the night pacing back and forth, waiting for any further news, waiting to hear from Harry himself.

Minerva,

Harry killed Grindelwald. He is fine but is resting and will be in touch as soon as he possibly can.

Expect company, but until they arrive, stay at home.

Charlus

On its own, the note was ominous, and she had read it dozens of times, unable to believe the words.

She likely wouldn't have had they not been penned in the familiar scrawl of Charlus Potter.

Minerva had done as she was bid, and though it was difficult to not seek further clarification the night had passed, and she had busied herself caring for Rosa.

She was nearing her second birthday now, was growing quickly into a curious, adventurous girl.

For almost a year she had been displaying bouts of accidental magic, nothing dangerous much to Minerva's relief, but she had become rather adept at escaping her cot.

Thankfully, Kora was on hand to intervene when needed, and often enough, Minerva would hear the little elf gently chastising her giggling daughter who found no end of amusement from her own escapades.

She was just like Harry in so many ways; quiet, observant, but proving to have quite the fiery temper, though that could have been inherited by both her parents.

With a snort, Minerva recalled trying to feed the girl some mashed carrots, only to find that Rosa did not want them. Instead, the bowl had somehow been propelled into Minerva's face, much to the joy of her daughter.

She was pulled from her reminiscing by the sound of an alert, letting her know that someone was at the door.

Picking up Rosa who had been playing with a set of Quidditch figurines, she headed to the entrance hall and opened it to be greeted by the sight of Reg Yaxley and around a dozen others.

"Minerva," he greeted her warmly. "Harry has sent us to act as a guard for you and the little one."

"Is it necessary to have so many of you?"

A smirk tugged at Reg's lips as he nodded.

"Orders from the commander himself," he snorted. "Some of Grindelwald's followers are still out there and he is not taking any chances. We will try not to get in your way."

Minerva tutted but allowed them to enter the house.

Had they not been given express permission by Harry, they wouldn't have made it passed the gate, after all.

"Well, haven't you grown," Reg cooed at Rosa as Minerva led her guests to the parlour room that looked over the grounds.

Harry had brought the man to visit Rosa shortly after her first birthday, and the girl had been quite taken with him.

Rosa eyed him curiously for a moment before blushing and hiding her face in the crook of Minerva's neck, eliciting a chuckle from Reg.

"Oh, that is so cute," an American woman who was unfamiliar to Minerva commented.

"What can I say, the ladies love me," Reg returned with a grin.

The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head amusedly.

"You've spent too much time with Potter and Gilbert."

"Probably," Reg conceded. "As you can already see, the little lady that is hiding is Harry's daughter, and her beautiful mother was somehow charmed by our commander. Minerva, this is my wife, Nancy."

Minerva offered the woman a tight smile.

"What happened, Reg?" she asked as she took a seat and gestured for others to follow suit.

Reg's expression darkened and he released a deep breath.

"I don't know how much you are aware of what we have been doing, but we managed to enter France undetected and catch Grindelwald's men unaware," he began. "It didn't take long for him to hear what had happened and he arrived shortly after. Seeing that he was going to lose, he challenged Harry to a one-on-one duel."

"And Harry accepted," Minerva sighed.

"Would you expect anything less from the prat?"

Minerva shook her head and allowed Rosa, who had finally emerged, off her lap to roam around the room.

"Is he alright?"

"He's fine," Reg assured her. "Nothing more than some superficial wounds, but bloody hell, none of us will ever witness anything like we did between them. They were at it for hours, and when Harry won, Grindelwald's lot surrendered. We took them into custody. There are still things to deal with, but Harry has promised that he will be home by tomorrow to see you, and I'd like to see anyone try to stop him."

"Tomorrow?"

"He's already been summoned for a debrief by the ICW," Reg sighed irritably. "He's not happy, but I suppose they want to hear what happened from him."

Minerva nodded her understanding.

"Am I allowed to leave the house now?"

"You can do whatever you like," Reg replied. "We're not here to keep you prisoner, just as an extra precaution. You know what Harry is like."

"So, he sent twelve of you?"

Reg chuckled.

"He was going to send twenty, but I managed to convince him that was too much."

Minerva snorted amusedly.

"Has the news broken yet?"

"It will in The Daily Prophet this morning," Reg explained. "We've already had reporters sniffing around, taking photos, and trying to talk to Harry."

"I bet he loved that."

"He doesn't know," Reg said with a grin. "They haven't managed to get past Arcturus yet, and they're not so wiling to push their luck with him."

Minerva couldn't blame them.

The name alone was enough to deter anyone.

"I'd like to visit Diagon Alley. I need to see it for myself," she declared.

Without hesitation, Reg nodded.

"It happened, Minerva," he reassured her, "but we will take you. I'm sure most of this lot will appreciate being in civilised company and enjoying some fresh London air. Get yourself ready, we will be waiting for you."

Minerva offered the man a grateful smile, retrieved Rosa and headed to her bedroom.

Harry was okay, and the worst part of the war was finally over.

For years now, he had been on the continent doing all he could to put an end to Grindelwald, and though it wouldn't seem real until she saw Harry for herself, she allowed a sense of relief to wash over her as she dressed Rosa.

When they were ready, half of the group sent to watch over them used the fireplace to travel to The Leakey Cauldron before Minerva and Rosa followed where they waited for the rest.

The pub itself was full to capacity with people drinking even at this early hour as they sang the praises of those that had fought, the name of one person in particular being mentioned time and again.

On the wall was a haphazardly created banner that simply read; Evans for Minister, and Minerva couldn't help but laugh to herself.

Harry would hate it, but the best part of the last four years had been difficult. There wasn't a single person in Britain who hadn't been affected by the war.

Whether it was a family member or a friend who had volunteered to fight, it had touched each of them, and with it now finally coming to a close, a collective breath of relief could be taken.

Exiting the pub, Minerva found the alley to be in very much the same mood. The witches and wizards of Great Britain had come out in droves to celebrate with each other.

It was quite the heart-warming sight, and Minerva felt herself fill with pride as the gathered crowd began cheering for Harry as vendors handed out copies of The Daily Prophet, and others did so with ice cream and drinks.

"They're cheering for your dad, Rosa," Minerva explained to the clueless girl as she looked around interestedly.

"Da?" Rosa asked, her eyes searching for the man.

"He will be back soon," Minerva promised.

Rosa merely stared at her before she was quickly distracted by the sudden explosion of fireworks that erupted from near where Gringotts was situated.

"Harry won't like this," Reg guffawed as he held up the paper he'd been handed.

On the front was a picture a photographer had managed to snap of him in Bulgaria. He was helping a family find their belongings amongst a pile of rubble that had once been their home.

Minerva smirked at it.

In the photo, Harry was blowing bubbles out of his wand to entertain the children as he helped pull a large portrait from the remains of a collapsed fireplace.

When her gaze shifted to the other accompanying photos, Minerva's smirk fell.

"Is that what was left after?" she asked.

These photos depicted an area of land that looked as though several bombs had been dropped on it.

Reg nodded.

"That's it," he confirmed. "It was a mess by the time they were done."

As she suspected, this was where Harry and Grindelwald had fought. How any of them came out alive from the devastation that had been wrought, Minerva didn't know, but seeing the images of the aftermath made her realise just how dangerous it must have been.

"He really is fine," Reg reiterated, seeing her demeanour shift. "He won, and that's all that matters."

Minerva nodded and tore her eyes from the page.

She didn't want to look at it anymore. If anything, she wanted these past years to one day fade so that they seemed to be nothing but a long, bad dream she'd once had.

She wanted to forget the war had ever happened at all, but that wasn't possible. Minerva would settle for Harry coming home so they could begin healing, so that they could begin finally being a family.

She could settle for that.

(Break)

With the students away for the summer, it was the time of year that Albus and Armando switched their focus to the less urgent aspects of running the school, the things that were either put on hold whilst the students were here, or that were merely not needed to be discussed until now.

For the most part, they tried to get this done at the beginning of the break so that they could enjoy a respite themselves, and it was no different now.

"Any thoughts on who should be head boy and girl?"

Albus hadn't given it much thought. His mind had been rather distracted as of late and who would take up the posts was not something he had considered much.

"I think Mr Fawcett of Ravenclaw would be an excellent choice," he offered thoughtfully.

Armando nodded and made a note on his parchment.

"I was going to suggest him myself," he replied, his expression darkening as he released a deep breath. "I am surprised that Horace has not visited to plead his case for Mr Riddle. They do not seem to have been as close this year. If anything, I would say they have drifted apart."

Albus frowned at his colleague's observation.

"Has Horace not said anything?"

Armando shook his head.

"No, he hasn't mentioned the boy once this year. That itself is unusual."

Albus hummed as he drummed his fingers across the desk.

What had happened between them for the man who advocated the boy so strongly to suddenly stop?

Had Horace simply grown tired of being rebuffed by Armando?

"Do you think we should talk to him?" he asked.

Armando shrugged.

"I will monitor the situation and broach the subject if I feel it is needed."

Albus nodded his agreement.

"Perhaps Rosalina has some thoughts on the matter," he chuckled. "She is heading in this direction rather quickly."

Even before Armando could reply there was a frantic knocking on the office door.

"Come in," Armando called.

Rosalina was uncharacteristically excited as she entered clutching the morning edition of The Daily Prophet.

"Have you seen this?" she asked as she dropped it on the desk between them.

Reading the headline on the front page, Albus experienced several emotions at once: jubilation, anger, sadness, and even heartbreak.

EVANS KILLS GRINDELWALD IN SENSATIONAL DUEL!

By Peter Stanforth

Albus didn't know what he was supposed to feel. He was glad that the war was over, pleased that the fighting would finally stop, but there was still a part of him that would mourn for Gellert.

He felt guilty for taking the easy way out, for avoiding confronting his old friend when he could have been the difference between life and death.

Albus knew he could defeat Gellert in a duel, but he hadn't been able to face him, not after what happened to Ariana.

Perhaps he should have.

If Albus had managed to muster enough courage, Gellert could have been defeated yet his death would have been avoidable.

Not that he could change that now.

"Albus?" Armando pressed gently.

The transfiguration professor swallowed deeply as he stood.

"I'd like some time alone," he requested before taking his leave of the room.

He and Gellert had once been best friends, more in truth, and Albus had never truly gotten over what he had lost in the pursuit of that relationship: his sister, his brother, and now the one who had been his greatest inspiration.

Despite everything that had happened, and all that Gellert had done, Albus had never stopped hoping the man would change his ways, had never stopped loving the enigmatic young man he had made the acquaintance of all those years ago.

Now, Gellert's foolish ambition had gotten him killed, and though Albus abhorred violence of any kind, he might just be able to endure it for a reprieve from his aching heart.

(Break)

Nicholas could only gawp at the newspaper as the owl delivered it, and he blinked several times to ensure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he ran towards the kitchen with an excited Camille in tow.

"Perenelle!" he gasped as he entered, clutching his chest, and breathing heavily.

His six-century-old body was certainly not cut out for physical exertion.

"Oh, Nicholas, look what you made me do," Perenelle huffed as she gestured to a fallen flower she had been pruning. "I've been growing these for months."

Nicholas said nothing as he handed the woman the paper.

Perenelle frowned before her eyes widened and she looked between her husband and the headline.

"Can it be true?" she whispered.

Nicholas nodded and Perenelle murmured to herself.

"The boy did it," she declared emotionally. "He really did it!"

Nicholas beamed as he wrapped his arms around her.

He couldn't remember a time he had felt prouder, not even when he and Albus had finished their work on the twelve uses of dragon's blood.

"He did," Nicholas confirmed, truly relaxing for the first time in almost four years.

Both he and Perenelle had been worried for Harry, and not a day went by that his wife didn't look out for a letter from him.

There would be no need of that anymore.

The war was all but over, and Nicholas had no doubt that Harry would return home to be with Minerva and Rosa as soon as he possibly could.

Once more, Perenelle spoke to herself under her breath as she dried her tears of relief, and Nicholas found it hard to not let his emotions get the better of him.

Harry had won the war, and though Nicholas had no doubt that what he'd experienced would haunt him for years to come, the man would have the opportunity to live.

'As soon as he puts his parent's murderer to rest,' he added internally.

That was another problem in itself, but one that only Harry had the right to address in any way he chose.

Nicholas knew he wouldn't outright murder the boy whilst he was in school, but when he left and was considered a man grown, there would be nothing that would stop him finishing what began more than twenty years ago.

Then he could live.

(Break)

The last time Harry had been within the chambers of the ICW, the mood had been tense, and the expressions fixated on him grim at best. Now, however, that atmosphere was absent.

The representatives of each country had given him a standing ovation as he entered, and even once that ended after several awkward moments, they offered him smiles, and nods of appreciation when he met their stares.

It was something that Harry was not comfortable with, but something he had been advised to accept, nonetheless.

Arcturus and Charlus had taken it upon themselves to offer him advice before he had left, the thought of which left Harry fighting the urge to smirk to himself.

"Everyone will want to kiss your arse, Evans. Let them get it over with, accept whatever they want to give to you, and then they will have no reason to bother you anymore."

That had been the suggestion of the Lord Black, as blunt as ever but an approach Harry had come to appreciate.

"You earned everything, Harry. You have sacrificed more than they will ever be able to give you."

"So has everyone else," Harry pointed out.

"But no one else fought as long or as hard as you," Charlus retorted. "This war would still be happening without you and how you led us, and we won't let you think otherwise."

Arcturus had nodded his agreement firmly and the two of them had insisted on escorting him here.

They were currently waiting outside the chamber, only content to do so when Harry had insisted he did not need them to guard him within.

He didn't need them to guard him at all, but he appreciated the gesture from the duo, though their presence may have shielded him somewhat from the continuous flashing of cameras coming from the public gallery that was full of the world's press.

"Commander Evans," Abreo addressed Harry, pulling him from his thoughts. "I would like to begin by thanking you on behalf of everyone in this room for what you have done. Without your efforts, we would not be here today celebrating victory."

Once more, the representatives of the ICW broke out in applause, and Harry waited for an awkwardly long time for it to subside so that Abreo could continue.

"The wizarding world owes you a debt that it can never hope to pay, Commander Evans," the Supreme Mugwump said sincerely. "These past few years, I have come to know you quite well. You have proven to be a competent leader, an incredible wizard, and an even more extraordinary man. You have overcome adversity and persevered when most others would have given up, and in the end, you personally stepped up to confront one of the most dangerous men in recent history to preserve the life of your own men, and even the enemy. There truly are no words that we could say that would do justice to the gratitude we all feel."

The other representatives called their agreement, nodding animatedly as they did so.

"You will, of course, receive the highest honour that we can bestow upon you and many other benefits befitting your achievements during the war."

"As he will from our own Ministry," Doge broke in with a smile. "Minister Fawley plans to make some announcements of his own to the Wizengamot in the coming days and wished for me to offer his appreciation on his behalf. He is very keen to make your acquaintance once more, Commander Evans."

Harry offered the man a slight bow in response, doing his best to ignore his own thoughts regarding politicians and their own agendas.

"As would be expected," Abreo declared before turning his attention back to Harry. "Although the fighting is concluded, we hope, there are still matters that must be attended to, Commander, and we would be most appreciative of your input."

Harry had known his work was not done but hearing the Supreme Mugwump speak it made his stomach sink.

Before he could speak, however, Abreo continued.

"The war will not officially be concluded until Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Japan formally sign a declaration of surrender," he explained. "Once that has been done, we will need to negotiate treaties for each country who supported Grindelwald to ensure that something like this does not happen again."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"What are your intentions for these countries?" Harry asked.

Abreo released a deep sigh.

"We have never faced anything like this. It is something that we must discuss in depth before any decisions are made, but we would like you to be a part of those talks in your current capacity. Your input will be invaluable as the man who led our forces."

"I'm no politician," Harry pointed out.

"No, but your opinion is valued, and you have already demonstrated a propensity towards fairness with the suggestions you made regarding Italy. Those were your terms, Commander Evans, we simply agreed with them," Abreo returned.

That, Harry couldn't deny.

Many of the representatives wanted to punish Italy harshly and in a way that would only breed further resentment, but Harry had been very vocally firm that should not be the approach taken.

One merely needed to look at muggle Germany over the past decades to see what unfair and harsh treatment would result in.

"Okay," Harry agreed.

Abreo offered him a smile.

"What would your recommendation be in dealing with the rogue countries as they stand?" he asked. "We have yet to address them. Do they still have a standing force on the border?"

"Germany, Austria, and Hungary do," Harry confirmed. "I am uncertain of Japan, but they have little resistance to offer. Many of those killed in France were Japanese."

Abreo nodded his understanding.

"As for my recommendation, I believe that you should open negotiations for terms of surrender but make it clear that they must do so and that they hold no advantage. Extend something of an olive branch. Without Grindelwald and much of his army having been captured, their position is not favourable. Remind them of this, and they may be more willing to take a diplomatic approach."

Abreo nodded thoughtfully.

"Not a politician," he muttered to himself amusedly. "Speaking of the prisoners, what would you suggest being done with them?"

Harry released a deep breath.

"We captured more than three thousand men," he explained. "Holding a trial for each of them here is unfeasible. It would be much more convenient to send them back to their own countries and hand out fitting punishments to those that have committed war crimes. What they are deemed to be is at the discretion of the ICW. For this to be fair, an agreed upon set of criteria will need to be created."

It was what Harry would do if given that decision to make.

"The idea has merit," Abreo mused aloud, eliciting murmurs of agreement from his peers. "That is something to add to the agenda of things we must discuss."

"May I make another suggestion?" Harry broke in once more.

"You may," Abreo allowed.

"I just want to emphasise that punishments should be fitting," Harry reiterated. "Those who willingly and knowingly harmed civilians should receive the harshest of these, but those that killed in battle should be treated differently. If we were to harshly punish those, then I too would deserve to receive that punishment, as would many good men I know."

Abreo nodded.

"Your input is duly noted, Commander Evans."

"What of Nurmengard?" Harry enquired.

"The prisoners will be freed as soon as possible," Abreo assured him. "We already have a team of cursebreakers ready to be dispatched as soon as Austria is deemed safe enough to do so. We are also in the process of ensuring aide is given to those countries in need of it."

That was the only other topic Harry wished to broach, and he offered Abreo a bow of acknowledgement.

"When do you expect that you will hear a response from the countries that were occupied by Grindelwald?"

"That is something we cannot be certain of," Abreo sighed. "They may take time to ponder their positions, and even when that is done, it could take weeks for emissaries to be sent to begin negotiations. I will, of course, keep you informed of progress. Why do you ask?"

"Because I have thousands of men who are keen to go home," Harry answered. "Some have not seen their families for months. I would suggest that each representative summon their commanders and begin making arrangements for that to change as quickly as possible."

"We will do that as a priority," Abreo replied. "We will aim to have our forces disbanded in the coming weeks. The quicker the treaties are in place, the quicker that can happen."

Harry nodded gratefully.

"What do you plan on doing, Commander Evans?" Doge asked curiously. "With the war over…"

"There is no need to retain my position," Harry cut in firmly. "I will assist you with what loose ends need tying up, but as soon as agreements are in place, I will no longer be required."

"Nonsense," Doge snorted. "You have proven to be indispensable; it would be foolish for us to not keep you on. The Department of Justice still requires a head, does it not?"

"It does," Abreo confirmed, and Harry shook his head.

"I'm not interested," Harry sighed. "The world knows who I am, so being a Hit-Wizard is no longer a viable option, and I have no desire to train others to do it. If Fox is still alive, she is welcome to it."

Doge did not appear to be pleased by Harry's dismissal, but he didn't comment on it.

"Let us not make any decisions about the future when there is still much more to do," Abreo urged diplomatically. "There will be lots of time to discuss that when our more pressing matters are resolved. I think it would be prudent for Commander Evans to take his time and consider what it is he wishes to do. You will have the full support of the ICW whatever you decide."

Harry offered the man an appreciative nod.

"Is there anything else you need me for?" he questioned.

"I do not believe so," Abreo replied before anyone else could speak to the contrary.

"Then I am going home," Harry declared. "It will be my daughter's birthday tomorrow, and I have missed enough of her growing up already. If you need to reach me for anything relating to what we have discussed, then do so through Reginald Yaxley. For anything else, speak to Petr Sokolov who will be acting in my stead."

With that, Harry turned and headed towards the door, ignoring the flashes of cameras and the questions fired at him by the gathered members of the press.

He had nothing to say to them, and he had somewhere else he would much rather be.

"Done?" Charlus asked as he exited.

Harry nodded.

"Done," he confirmed. "For now, everything else can wait."

Charlus chuckled.

"I'm going to get my mother and bring her home," he announced happily. "Everything else can wait," he agreed. "Arcturus?"

"You'd best not leave Dorea waiting too long," Arcturus snorted. "For me, I just want to spend some time with Melania and the boys. I've barely seen Orion and Cygnus since they were born."

Harry could empathise with the man.

Rosa was going to be two and he had barely been around for more than a few weeks for her.

Now, however, he would make it up to her and Minerva.

Although the ICW had requested he assist them, that didn't mean he had to spend all of his time on the continent after Germany and the other rogue nations were dealt with.

No, there was nothing more than Harry was looking forward to than going home.

Whatever he decided to do later mattered not.

He did not wish to even think about it until he had grown tired of home.

Not that he would.

If he ever had to leave his family again it would be too soon.

(Break)

Angelica Potter was never one to put much stock in rumours, so when talk of the war ending reached the island, she did her best to ignore it. According to the locals, Grindelwald had been killed by Harry Evans, the mere mention of the name almost enough for her to believe that there may just be some truth to what was being said.

Had Harry truly triumphed?

She had not seen him for so long, and no matter what he had achieved, he would always be the quiet boy Charlus had brought home to share the festive period with them.

How long had that been? Six years, maybe?

Since William had passed on and Charlus had gone to war, Angelica's sense of time had been skewed, but there was no mistaking the figure of her son as she spied him walking towards the house.

Her chest tightened as she took in his appearance.

Her boy was truly a man now, scarred by whatever hell it was he had endured in Europe, yet, he was alive, and Angelica could not ask for anything more.

"Is it true?" she asked, fearful that the rumours would be unfounded.

Charlus smiled, though their remained an edge to his gaze.

"It is," he confirmed happily. "I've come to get you."

Although Angelica was ecstatic, the thought of returning to the home she had shared with her husband terrified her.

She knew that everywhere she looked she would see William, and as much as she wished he was here, she could not face being haunted by his presence.

"I don't think I can," Angelica choked.

Charlus said nothing as he pulled her into his arms and simply held her for a few moments.

"Why not?" he probed gently.

"Without your father, it's not my home anymore."

Charlus hold on her tightened, and she melted into him.

He was like William in so many ways, yet so different now.

Charlus had become his own man in the wake of his father's death.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

Angelica shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Then we will stay here for a while," Charlus decided. "At least until you know what you want to do, but you will have to return to Britain for my wedding."

"You're getting married?"

Charlus nodded before he explained what had transpired between himself, Dorea, and Selwyn's plot.

"He would never have dared had your father been alive!" Angelica snapped angrily.

"Well, he won't try it again," Charlus said confidently. "It's fine, mum, I dealt with it."

Angelica smiled at the man.

"He would be so proud of you, Charlus," she offered sincerely. "I'm sure he is resting easy knowing that you are doing so well."

Charlus returned the gesture.

"They are big shoes to fill," he chuckled.

"You're already doing an amazing job. He would tell you the same."

"Thanks, mum," Charlus replied. "Now, I know you're itching to ask me some questions, so, should we get those out of the way with?"

Angelica nodded.

"How many stupid things have you and Harry done?" she asked.

Judging by how Charlus's face fell, Angelica knew that she wouldn't like the answer to that question, and after he had spoken for barely a minute, she could feel the beginnings of a headache setting in.

If William was alive, he would tan both their hides, something that she herself was considering, though knowing both had made it through the fighting curbed that urge for the time being.

For now, she was merely happy to have her son with her, so everything else could wait.

(Break)

Becoming aware that someone else had just arrived at the house, Minerva took in her reflection and began fixing her hair, eliciting a snort of amusement from Reg.

"Bloody hell, girl, you could be dressed in a bin bag and Harry would worship the ground you walk on," he commented.

Minerva shot the man a glare, but she couldn't hide the blush of her cheeks.

Still, Reg held up a hand to prevent her from leaving the room, doing so himself to see who was approaching the house.

He had taken his guard duty seriously since he'd arrived the previous day, and Minerva doubted the man had even slept.

Her heart began to race as she heard the voices drawing ever closer, both now quite familiar to her, but one more so.

The very same one she had come to love and miss during his absences the past eight years.

As Harry entered the room, Minerva felt herself fill with warmth at the easy smile that graced his lips, lacking the usual tension that hung over him like a lead weight.

"I'll be in touch soon, Reg," he said, embracing the man briefly and thanking the others before they took their leave, offering Harry bows and words of gratitude as they did so.

When they were finally alone, Minerva did not hesitate to close the distance between them and wrap her arms around him.

"Is it really over?" she asked.

She felt him nod against her.

"For now," he replied, breathing her scent in deeply. "There are things to do, but not for a while, hopefully."

Minerva smiled as she relaxed.

She didn't want to speak about the war anymore, or about the fight Harry had with Grindelwald. She knew him well enough to know that he didn't wish to discuss it either, and all he would want to focus on was being home and spending some time with their daughter.

"Where is she?" he asked only a moment later.

Minerva laughed as she looked up at him, his eyes searching for Rosa.

"She's asleep, well, she was. Would you like to see if she's awake?"

Harry nodded and the two of them made their way to Rosa's room where the girl was indeed sleeping, clutching the training broom that Harry had brought for her birthday the previous year.

"She sleeps with it often," Minerva explained. "She loves that broom."

Harry smiled as he simply stared at the slumbering toddler.

"Let's leave her," he suggested, though it was clear that he wanted nothing more than to wake Rosa up. "I'm not going anywhere."

Minerva nodded and led him away from the bedroom and to another one only a short distance down the hall.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked.

Minerva released a deep sigh.

"I know you don't want to talk about the war, but I don't think you'll be able to ignore this for long," she said as she pushed the door open.

"Bloody hell, what is all that?" Harry gasped.

"Mail, for you," Minerva said casually. "Kora has been sorting it into piles of official correspondence, business letters, and letters and gifts from anyone else who has sent them. They began arriving last night and haven't stopped."

Harry looked horrified and cursed under his breath.

"I only set wards up to block anything dangerous," he groaned. "What am I going to do with all this?"

"Well, usually, you would open it," Minerva replied with a smirk. "I would probably start with the official ones. Several of them have Ministry seals on them."

"From our Ministry?"

"From several Ministry's," Minerva corrected amusedly.

"Bollocks," Harry grumbled as he looked towards her pleading, the very same way he did when they had been teenagers and he needed something. "Help?"

Minerva hummed thoughtfully to herself before caving at the expression of helplessness of the man.

"Fine," she huffed dramatically.

Harry shot her a winning smile and the two of them sat down to begin the task.

Although sizable in its own right, the ones that had arrived from the Ministry's paled in comparison to those that arrived from whom Minerva referred to as Harry's 'admirers,' much to his chagrin.

They worked through the pile of missives, some containing medals of some description, and personal letters from Ministers and other leaders offering their congratulations and gratitude on his victory.

In truth, it was quite overwhelming for Harry, something that Minerva couldn't miss.

Amongst them, she found one from the British Ministry and handed it to him.

"The Minister would like to see me at my convenience," he sighed.

"An open invitation?" Minerva questioned.

"Well, he hasn't given me a time or date, so I suppose so. Maybe I'll arrive in the early hours so he can't try to use me as a show pony," he mused aloud.

Minerva snorted as she shook her head.

"I know you don't like it, Harry, but it will blow over eventually," she assured him. "The more you hide from it, the worse it will be."

"I know," Harry grumbled. "I'll see him, but everything else can wait until we are married. How soon do you think we can do that?"

Minerva was taken aback by the question.

She would never forget that he had asked her, but with everything that had happened, she hadn't seen it as a priority.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "We would have to ask him."

"Then we will do that," Harry declared, as he pulled Minerva to her feet. "I think we've both waited long enough. If that's what you still want?"

It broke her heart to still see the insecurity he carried from his childhood.

Despite everything he had done and how highly thought of he was, Harry's opinion of himself would always be lower than anyone else's.

It bothered Minerva, but at the same time, it was an endearing quality.

Harry was as humble as anyone else she had met, even though he had reason to be more boastful than others.

"It is," Minerva answered easily, "but I think our conversation with dad will have to wait," she added, nodding over his shoulder.

Harry turned to see a sleepy Rosa walking towards them, still holding her broom and pausing as she looked up at him, her eyes widening.

"Da?" she asked curiously.

That simple query was all it took for Harry to sweep her into his arms, the final vestiges of irritation melting away as he held their daughter who began giggling happily.

Rosa was just as happy to have her father home as Minerva was, and as Harry shot her a glance, she could see that there was nowhere else he would rather be either.

There were things that would need to be addressed in the coming days and weeks, but for now, nothing was more important than this, not even the dark cloud on the horizon that Harry would soon look towards.