For what felt like the first time in seventeen years, Harry was entirely relaxed. Voldemort was gone forever, he was in love, he had good friends, he would never have to set foot in Privet Drive again, and he was on his way to see Dumbledore, or, at least, Dumbledore's picture. He climbed jauntily up the spiraling staircase to the headmaster's office and swung open the door.

There, leaning against the doorjamb, was Voldemort. He looked bored. "Hey, Potter," he said, airily. "Long story short: There was another hallow."