Even as a fan of the books, I've never liked the ending. None of it made sense. So this is my attempt to fix it, at least in my own head. Very self serving and aggrandizing to my own wants and desires. It's my story, deal with it, haha. I own none of of the characters.

/

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!"

Harry heard the words as Neville shouted them in the face of Voldemort… the dark lord who had destroyed both their lives so long ago, and who had hounded them from that day forth. Still held up in Hagrid's arms, he tried to listen carefully over the snuffling of the half giant. He could just make out Voldemort saying something, and then a spell being cast.

The air broke suddenly with gasps and Harry recognized the next sound… followed quickly by a familiar spell.

Fire.

Cracking an eyelid barely, Harry saw the sorting hat sitting atop Neville's head as it started to burn quickly. Neville wasn't twitching except for his eyes locked on the burning brim of the old hat. He was petrified, that must have been the spell. "To hell with the element of surprise, I've got to…"

"NO!"

Neville's roar stopped all chatter through the room instantly, Death Eater and student alike. Harry twitched slightly, feeling a wave of palpable energy rush over him. Neville was able to speak again, fighting the spell. "No one move! Don't give him a reason! NO ONE!" Neville's eyes locked onto his from beneath the burning brim, and Harry understood immediately.

As the flames started to lick at his hair and face, Neville burst up from his knees in front of Voldemort. Yanking the hat away, his right hand slipped inside the burning scrap of leather and gleaming silver came into sight.

Voldemort stared, apparently awestruck that Neville was able to brush off his spell, and barely moved in time to avoid the blade as Neville swung the sword of Gryffindor in a wide arc towards him. "Yet another boy with delusions of grandeur, attempting to attack his betters. You are from good blood Longbottom, consider your next move carefully. You cannot strike me down."

Neville, smoke rising from his hair and soot marring his skin, grinned. "Wasn't trying to. I just needed a little more room." Gripping the sword with both hands, Neville pushed off his foot and twisted back, swinging the sword as hard as he could right into the body of Nagini. The snake twisted but it was too late to react. No one expected Neville to charge straight at the deadly beast.

The body landed with a wet smack, still writhing in the throes of death. Nagini's head hit the debris covered floor, fangs bared still from mid strike.

Silence fell over the great hall once again at the sight of the near squib Neville Longbottom decapitating Voldemort's own familiar. It was only broken by the painful howl coming from the dark lord himself, realizing his last permanent anchor to this world was now destroyed.

Neville saw a Death Eater rushing from the crowd towards him and reacted on instinct. Kicking out quickly he sent the head of Nagini at the robed killer, shuddering at the sight of the fangs burying into his throat.

The hall erupted in spell fire and shouts once more, so loud that Neville never heard the curse aimed at him by Voldemort. He instantly recognized it though, the feeling of millions of razors grating over every nerve in his body. Falling to his knees he ground his teeth together, refusing to scream and give Voldemort any more satisfaction from the pain he caused.

Muscles clenching so tightly he thought he could feel the handle of the sword bend in his grip, Neville forced his eyes open, tears rushing down his face from the agony. He saw Voldemort's face, a sick grin twisting it as he tortured Neville. But Voldemort wasn't ready for what he saw cross the young man's face at that moment.

Neville's eyes shifted to behind Voldemort, and even the torture curse couldn't keep a smirk from crossing his lips as he glared back to the dark lord.

"REDUCTO!"

Voldemort turned barely in time to see Harry Potter throwing a powerful blasting curse. Pulling a chunk of broken pillar from the floor, he barely got it in the path of the curse in time. It was powerful enough to throw Voldemort back from the shockwave, landing him at the base of a broken stairwell. Getting to his feet quickly he returned fire, trading curses with Harry as he stumbled backwards up a few stairs. "Potter! I killed you! Again!"

Harry grinned through the dirt and sweat coating his face. "You tried. Again. And you're really bad at it Tom, do you realize that?" Blasting at the step Voldemort stood on, Harry advanced. "How do you think this is going to look to the inner circle Tom? They all saw you throw the curse at me, and now they all see me standing before you. That's gotta put a dent in the old ego, doesn't it?"

Voldemort shrieked and a deep purple haze flew past Harry as he dodged, hitting a werewolf behind him. Harry's stomach lurched as he recognized the Entrails-Expelling curse, but he fought on, making it to the base of the shattered stairway. "Wow, you're really trying to help my side win aren't you? By all means, keep it up Tommy."

"Don't you dare use that foul name! I am Lord Voldemort! I am unbeatable!" Aiming at the ceiling, Voldemort blasted a chunk of the masonry just above Harry.

Seeing the heavy debris falling, Harry reacted on instinct. Running the last few steps he went with something more natural than magic. Muggle violence. Slamming a shoulder into Voldemort, Harry sent both of them over the edge of the last step, driving them both into the open air.

Unable to remember the last time someone dared to put a hand on him, Voldemort was unable to react in time to lessen the impact of the fall. He took the brunt of the blow, Harry landing on top of him and the sound of several crunches and pops filling his ears. Physical pain, the sort he hadn't felt in nearly two decades, racked his body as Harry rolled away, momentum carrying him several feet before he was back up again, grinning. "What's wrong Tom? Forgot what it felt like to get down and dirty, muggle style?"

Growling as he righted himself, Voldemort snapped off a curse. "Stop using that name! And I would never debase myself to fight as a muggle!"

Harry laughed loudly as he pulled a quick protego shield. "So you're still sticking to that story, eh Tommy?" Diving behind a pile of rubble, Harry touched his wand tip to his throat. "Attention everyone, Death Eaters and Pureblood Agenda assholes in particular! Your 'Lord Voldemort' is a liar! He's a dirty halfblood…" Harry poked his head around the side, ducking back from another nasty green curse… "just like me!"

Many of the duels quieted a bit, Death Eaters and Light side alike shocked at this announcement.

Voldemort growled again before snapping his wand forward, a curse pounding at the rubble Harry was hiding behind, chipping away at the heavy stone.

Harry pushed back further from the edges, feeling the heat and crackle of the curse's energy rushing around his hiding spot. Finally it stopped for a moment, leaving smoke and sparks filling the air around him. "You know Tommy, there's one big problem with always having people to do your dirty work and kiss your arse all the time!"

"And what pray tell have you convinced yourself that might be Potter?"

Harry stood up slowly, green eyes burning back into the dark lord's. "You forget how to watch your own back." Before Voldemort could say anything else, Harry's eyes cut up to the top of the shattered stairs Voldemort stood in front of.

Neville Longbottom, Sword of Gryffindor gripped in both hands, dove from the top step with the blade angled down. The blade drove into Voldemort just beside his neck, over half of the shining weapon disappearing as he stabbed it deeply into the self-appointed ruler of dark magic, driving him to his knees on the destroyed floor of the Great Hall.

Teachers, Aurors and students took the moment of distraction to stun and subdue many of the remaining Death Eaters. Most of them turned immediately, seeing the first true moment of hope shining since the first rise of Voldemort decades before.

Harry walked over the debris, standing next to his friend in front of the stunned dark lord. "You see, when your little Death Licker toady Snape ran to you and spouted off the prophecy, he didn't have all of it. He missed the part about a power the dork lord would not know. Well, let me introduce you to my unknown power." Clapping a hand on Neville's shoulder, Harry grinned. "Meet Neville Longbottom. The other boy the prophecy referred to. You didn't just mark me Tommy… you marked us both. You took our families… our childhoods. You took our lives from us. It's time to return the favor."

Nodding to his friend, Harry and Neville stepped closer.

Voldemort raised his hands, opening his mouth to speak. He choked on his words at first, foul black blood running from his mouth. "P-Potter… Longb-bottom… you are both very… very powerful. We… you and I… can rule with that power. I am a benevolent Lord… you will have all you d-desire."

Neville reached out, his hand stopping Harry's approach. "Wait. Power? True power? Enough to get back at everyone who has wronged us and made our lives miserable for the past 17 years? Let's think about this Harry."

Harry looked from his friend back to the dark lord. "You'll give us power? What about land? Manors? I think my vaults have taken a hit during this war, yours Neville?"

"Oh definitely. Prices for basic items have gone up due to supply and demand from all the attacks. How about that Tom? Is money part of the deal?" Neville asked, rubbing his chin.

Voldemort nodded, spitting more fouled blood so he could speak. "More than anyone could need. You won't need it with your new stations by my side." His shaking arms stretched out to his sides, a hideous deformation of a smile crossing his stained lips.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "What if we think up other items we might want? Being all powerful and presiding over a country will give us lot of time to think."

"ANYTHING! It is yours, you have but to ask!"

Harry and Neville met each other's eyes and they couldn't help but chuckle slightly. The smiles slipped form their faces though as they turned back to meet the dark lord's gaze. Both young men drawled out as in one voice.

"We want our families back you son of a bitch."

Both gripped the handle of the sword and with a yell pushed, driving the blade even deeper into Voldemort's body. As the blade pierced his heart, Voldemort shuddered one last breath, a foul black cloud rushing from his open mouth in lieu of a scream of pain.

Neither of them let go of the blade, forcing it deeper if possible. Setting themselves against the rushing winds as the foul spirit rushed from Voldemort, neither could take their eyes from it. Tormented faces formed in the storm, screams rent the air and echoed through their minds. Neither would let go, gripping the metal tightly enough to almost bend it. Eyes meeting one last time, Neville nodded and grabbed the cross bar of the hilt and yanked, twisting the blade and cutting the dark lord even more.

A concussive blast blew across the room, knocking many of the fighters from their feet. Once the dust cleared two figures were visible still standing at the epicenter. Harry and Neville stood holding the sword, Voldemort's body bent backwards as his corpse fell over a broken pillar.

"NOOOOOOO!"

They twisted in time to see Bellatrix Lestrange claw at Kingsley's face and rush toward them, her wand whipping as she rushed the two men who murdered her lord. The killing curse left her lips just as she snapped her wand at them.

Neville pushed Harry aside and shifted his grip on the sword, holding it upright and twisting as Lestrange neared. The killing curse suddenly dissolved in midair as he raised the sword before him, the blade taking on a silvery green shine. Before Bellatrix could repeat the Unforgivable, Neville lunged and drove the sword into her chest powerfully enough to send it to the hilt against her body.

The crazed eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange flickered as she stared at the face of Neville Longbottom, emotions much more powerful than surprise and awe rushing across her features. Her wand clattered to the floor and her legs gave way. The only thing keeping her on her feet was Neville's strong grip on the sword still.

Leaning in closer to the dying lieutenant, Neville's teeth gritted together. "That's for my parents you fucking bint." With a sharp jerk he pulled the sword from her body, watching it slump to the ground lifelessly.

"Bellatrix! I'll kill you, you damned squib!" Rodolphus Lestrange raised his wand to Neville, but that's as far as he got.

Raising the sword, Neville somehow channeled his magic, sending a curse at Bellatrix's widower suddenly and sending him flying back against the wall, slumping to the floor unconscious at the very least. Every eye was trained on Neville, shocked at what he had just done.

Laying blade against his shoulder, Neville looked at the eyes burning into him all around the room and just grinned. "Anyone else want to try?"

Harry stepped up to him and patted his shoulder again. "Good work. Knew I could count on you mate." Receiving a nod, Harry stepped further into the center of the room. "To everyone still spouting, believing or willing to fight for Voldemort's agenda, let me make sure you're fully informed. Voldemort was born Tom Marvolo Riddle, the son of an impoverished Pureblood witch… and a rich Muggle aristocrat!" Expecting an outburst but receiving none, he continued. "His father was under a love potion and left as soon as he recovered, and his mother died during childbirth. Riddle was raised in a Muggle orphanage until he received his invitation to Hogwarts. He was even the Head Boy years ago. He was the last to open the Chamber of Secrets, leading to the death of a poor Muggleborn girl named Myrtle."

Walking around a moment, he pulled his wand and flicked it into the air. Forming the words "Tom Marvolo Riddle" he quickly rearranged them to "I am Lord Voldemort" just as the spirit had done years before. "He was half-blood with delusions of grandeur. He thought he had to rewrite himself to matter, so he found the one thing most of you morons would get behind. He boosted your egos and gave you a sense of empowerment, all the while ensuring you would kneel and lick his boot heels for table scraps at his feast. You've all spent your fortunes, destroyed your families and lost your freedoms championing a lying half-blood! You'll have plenty of time to mull that over in Azkaban."

Walking up to Neville he held his hand out. "Mind if I borrow that?" Neville handed the sword over gladly and watched with the rest of the room as Harry crossed to Voldemort's body, standing at the head. Staring into the empty eyes, Harry took a deep breath. "This time you're not coming back Tom." Raising the sword high, he swung the blade down in a shining arc and easily separated the body at the neck. Harry wasn't taking any chances this time and he just watched as the decapitated head seemed to shimmer and then boil as the skin and flesh melted away, hitting the floor before steaming and disappearing into the air. The rest of the body followed suit under the dark robes, leaving only a covered skeleton with a skull several feet away.

The room broke into raucous cheering and applause, everyone celebrating the final defeat of the dark lord.

Handing the sword back, he pulled Neville into a hug, smacking him on the back soundly. "Thank you brother. Couldn't have done this without you."

Neville laughed and cuffed Harry on the shoulder as they broke the hug. "When a Potter goes into war, a Longbottom follows. Just something James and Frank would have explained to us if they'd had the opportunity." Neville looked around the room and his eyes locked on someone in particular. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got something to take care of mate."

Harry watched as Neville walked toward a group of students. He was surprised when Neville grabbed one girl by the hand and pulled her toward him from the group, and then downright shocked when Neville turned her into a dip and kissed her deeply. Many of the group watched in amazement while Neville Longbottom laid the snog of a lifetime on Hannah Abbott in the midst of the ruined Great Hall. Harry Potter just started laughing as he realized how much had changed during his missed seventh year.

"Oi Harry! We did it!"

He looked over to see Ron and Ginny rushing toward him, Hermione trailing behind as she held a hand to a cut on her leg. Harry didn't react as the two redheads grabbed him in a hug, his eyes trained on his best friend of the past seven years nearly. Her face was covered in dirt and she had a cut on her cheek. Their eyes locked, and she gave him a soft smile. Harry returned it, only now hearing that Ron had been rambling in his ear this whole time. "You know something?" he interrupted.

"What's that mate?" Ron asked, arms crossed over his chest as he grinned.

Harry looked back to Neville and Hannah, holding each other tightly and then back to Hermione. "Neville's a bloody genius." With that he pushed past the youngest Weasley's and crossed the floor quickly as he could, stumbling a few times on broken masonry and bricks. He got close to Hermione, his grin growing.

She smiled back, a tired smile. "So Mr. Potter, what are you going to do now that you've defeated…?"

Harry slipped an arm around her waist, the other cupping her uninjured cheek as his lips found hers, kissing her deeply. He felt her start to sag and held her tighter against himself, stroking his thumb across her cheek.

Hermione nearly fell in shock but her brain quickly rebooted and she returned the tender kiss deeply, her arms going around Harry's neck.

"What the hell..?" Harry was yanked back from his very comfortable spot in Hermione's arms to see a fuming little redheaded Weasley glaring at him. "What do you think you're doing with her? We're getting back together now that Voldemort is gone! You told me that a year ago!"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think this is the right place for this conversation Ginevra…"

Molly Weasley, followed quickly by the rest of her family, moved toward the brewing confrontation. "Harry James Potter! We take you in, treat you like family, and this is how you repay my daughter?"

Harry turned so quickly the dust from the floor rose in a whirlwind around his legs. "Keep one thing in mind Molly Weasley… I'm not the malnourished, nervous eleven year old you found wandering King's Cross. I am Harry James Potter. Head of House Potter, and House Black." Raising his hand, two rings appeared on his fingers, etched with the family crest beneath a brilliant stone.

However before he could will them back away a third popped up on his hand. Looking at it for a moment, Harry started to laugh fairly loudly. "And apparently the Heir of Slytherin, by conquest." Staring back at the skeleton on the floor, he nodded with a smirk towards it before turning back to the woman. "I know what you had in mind Molly. I know what you desired deepest of all. You wanted your 'Big, happy, extended Weasley family', and whoever had to lose a bit of themselves for that be so damned."

Molly huffed at him, her cheeks reddening as her lips sputtered. "You… ungrateful… I take you and that… that girl into my home, help you both because your own parents were incapable, and this is how I'm repaid?"

Before he could respond a firm hand pulled back at his arm, stepping in front of him and blocking Molly for a moment. Hermione glared at the normally cheerful housewife. "Incapable? I'll have you know my parents have never left me wanting, or needing, for anything in my life! They accepted me even when I was causing strange occurrences as a child. They knew something was different, but they never let it change how they saw me. My parents love me. And Harry's parents loved him so much they made the ultimate sacrifice."

Molly sighed, waving a hand in the air. "But they're just muggles. You're not dear. You're a witch, and a powerful one. A witch I'll be glad to have marrying my Ronald someday."

Harry stepped up next to his best friend, laying a hand on her shoulder. "That won't be happening. I know all about it Molly." Green eyes burnt into hers as he spoke in a low tone that somehow echoed in the ruins of the Great Hall.

Molly scoffed again before her face went several shades paler suddenly. Looking back to him, her eyes widened at his slight nod.

"Just walk away now, and this is over. But if you keep pushing this situation, you won't like how it turns out Molly."

Hands going to her hips, Molly Weasley made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "You wouldn't dare try to hurt my family. I've been like a mother to you!"

One arm pushing Hermione slightly behind him, Harry seemed to stand even taller. A sudden wind blew at his messy hair. "My mother never would have set me up with damned love potions Molly Weasley. My mother never would have used potions to steal my free will… or to steal my best friend's free will! My mother never would have condemned me to an unhappy life with that shrew of a hero-worshipping slag…" he pointed over to Ginny as she stared fearfully at the revelations he was announcing to the entire school… "Nor would she have condemned Hermione to a shit marriage with your lazy, traitorous, bastard of a son!"

Molly almost fell back over a piece of broken stone. "Wh-what are you talking about? I never… I would never use potions on you. You're like my own children. You have no proof that I'd ever do such a thing!"

Harry's aura shrank back a bit, his lip twisting into a smirk. "I've got the last several 'care packages' you sent to me, and to Hermione, in my vaults at Gringott's, under stasis and Goblin lock and key. As well as a few little surprises your son tried to slip us this year on our journey, before the bloody prick ran away because he wasn't getting three huge meals a day and had to actually exert effort that didn't involve quidditch, or the school broomstick." Lavender Brown shrieked from where she stood at the back of the room, as several others chuckled at the reference to her loose ways.

"Oy! I only left because I knew you two were fooling around behind my back! And I was right, look at you and this…" Ron's face twisted as he searched for a word that would hopefully hurt as badly as he hoped… "mudblood harlot."

Harry didn't have time to reach the redhead before Neville. The impact of the punch rang out through the shattered hall, hard enough to take Ron off his feet and knock him flat on his back. Blood flowed freely from his nose. Neville flexed his hand and grunted, then looked up to Molly and Ginny. "Would one of you inform Ronald when he eventually wakes up that the 'half a squib' he used to room with just knocked his arse out? Thank you."

Harry had to turn away to keep from laughing loudly at the sight of Ron on the ground. The punch had been hard enough to twist his lanky frame around sharply, but also make his legs give out instantly. Ron's bloody nose and lip were face down in the rubble of the Great Hall while his legs were still twisted and facing up, for the most part.

"I can't believe you ruffians!" Molly's shrill voice broke through again. "You besmirch our family, and then you attack my son for no reason! You won't get away with this, neither of you! The Weasley family might not have the money of the so called 'great' Potters and Longbottoms, but we have our honor. And we are more than the last remaining dregs of a family."

Pulling his wand, Harry ignored the gasps from all around. Holding it in front of himself, he recited in a low voice. "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic and my LIFE that everything I have said about here today regarding myself, Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle and the Weasley family is true. So mote it be!" The last word nearly a growl, a sudden wind whipped at Harry, dust and a flash of hiding him from view for a moment before dying down. Harry stood rooted on the spot, wand still in his hand. With a smirk he flicked his wand, bright light pouring from it. "Look at that. Still got it."

Molly paled, realizing what this meant. Everyone who survived the final battle had just seen Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who for the final time. And then they saw him lay his very life on the line to prove he wasn't lying. There was no getting out of this easily.

"Lord Potter, if I may?"

Harry's eyes cut over to see Arthur Weasley, flanked by his oldest sons, minus Percy who had fallen in the battle. Fred was leaning heavily on Bill, his leg torn up badly by a wall that had been nearly disintegrated by a curse and hit him. "Yes sir, Mr. Weasley?"

Arthur bowed his head respectfully. "Lord Potter… or Lord Black?" He looked at Harry, concern written in his eyes at wanting to come across correctly.

Harry's features softened and he smiled slightly. "I guess if it's for technicalities, Lord Potter-Black. But it's just Harry, sir."

Arthur nodded, releasing a tense breath. "I know that what certain members of my family have attempted on you and your line is of the most egregious sort of violation. I simply ask that at this immediate moment, in a time of celebration for our world… and mourning for many…" his teary eyes looked back at the covered body of his third born. "I ask that you allow me to keep countenance on the aggressors and offer my word that no other attempts will be made toward you. And then our families will meet and handle this properly." Arthur's voice broke slightly as he coughed to cover it. "I've lost one son Harry. Please… I know it is deserved, but don't let your anger at their actions lead to hasty decisions. I'm not asking for leniency, only a temporary mercy. Please."

Harry looked from the first true father figure he'd ever had to the guilty members of the family. Looking back he caught Hermione's eye, silently seeking counsel. She nodded, and he knew better than to argue. "That sounds like a good plan Mr. Weasley. I put them in your hands. I trust you sir, and I do not believe you had anything to do with this. It's not in your nature. Or the nature of the others of your family I still call friend."

"Bloody hell, Harry. You're no friend." Fred pulled himself to stand taller, leaning heavier against Bill. Tilting his head to his twin, George took over. "Should know by now mate, you're our brother in all but blood." Both looked over to the unconscious form of their youngest male sibling. "All the better than blood…" "…In some cases at least."

Harry let out a short bark of laughter, nodding to them. Looking around the rest of the room he saw everyone staring, all attention on the drama that had been unfolding. "Well, what's everyone looking at? Last I saw, seemed we had a reason to celebrate, didn't it?"

The unanimous roar deafened him slightly, a minor inconvenience in light of the happy situation.

/

Hermione had found him slipping up the stairwell outside of the Hall. With a soft kiss he promised her he'd be back soon. He had one last thing to attend to.

Pushing the door to the headmaster's office open once more, Harry slowly trudged his way in before falling into a plush chair in front of the headmaster's desk. "I know you're awake. I know you were hiding before… when I saw the memories."

A portrait shifted and Albus Dumbledore took his seat in the frame. "Hello Harry. I see you have done well. I'm proud of you, my boy."

"I really don't care what you're proud of. This visit is different Albus. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen." When the portrait went to speak again, it found a corner of its frame smoking.

Harry lowered his wand. "No more games, Albus. I'm not here for questions. I'm here to finish this." Leaning back in the chair Harry groaned as the last… ten months caught up with him. "You've played me from the very beginning. The Dursley's, the Weasley's, every step I've taken in this school you probably had a contingency plan for. Eleven years with those… bastards you forced me to live with and my spirit was broken. I was desperate for any sort of a family, any sort of… of love. Then in King's Cross, how is it that a woman who has had five children already attending Hogwarts for how many years can't remember where the entrance to the platform is? I can count on one hand how many friends here were true. They were my friends not for what they were promised or thought they deserved, but simply for me. And I never did right by them. But that will change from here on out."

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his dirty, tired face. "You were fine tuning your weapon from the very beginning. But right now, I do want an answer from you." Staring the painted man in the eyes, Harry's voice almost broke with raw emotion. "If you hadn't been cursed by that ring… if you had survived past last year… would you have let me know I could have survived that curse tonight? Or would "The Boy Who Lived" have laid down his life trying to avenge his parents, and happened to weaken Voldemort enough for Albus Dumbledore to save the day once more?"

The portrait looked as if it was ready to argue, but Harry held its gaze. Dumbledore looked away, smoothing his robes. "Everything that occurred was all for the greater good, young Harry."

"All for your greater good you mean, Albus. That's the difference. That makes all the difference. Have you really stood on top of your mountain so long you can't even see that your way isn't always right? You're not the conscience of the entire magical world. Maybe everyone saying that you were the second coming of Merlin actually made you believe it. Maybe you got a case of bad lemon drops. Hell, maybe Aberforth wasn't the craziest one in your family, even with an affinity for billy goats. Compared to some of your decisions that ranks right up there with Einstein's theories."

Pacing around behind the desk, Harry leaned on the edge and took a deep breath. "You've helped hold the Wizarding world in darkness for far too long. You tout the ingenuity of muggles, but you never used your influence to bring some of that to this world. You're comfortable with the way things are, and if it changes, you might become obsolete." A wry chuckle passed his lips. "Well guess what? You no longer have an influence on this world. You're dead and gone. The only way your words will live is through the history books."

The portrait grinned at that. "But Harry you forget, I will always hold a place here in the halls of Hogwarts. Headmasters for eons will listen to the wisdom of the greatest of their own. Albus Dumbledore will live on far beyond you. I'm sorry my boy, but you I knew you would never understand what was to be required. You're far too young. Let those of us who have earned our grey hairs continue to lead, and you can slip away into a happily ever after with Ginevra."

Harry laughed, hand slipping into his coat to grip the hitching ribs from his fall during the final battle. "Yes. The compulsion charms, love potions… and that marriage contract you drew up. That did not hold up to scrutiny. Snape never told you? I guess that was one little victory he held against you for your manipulations." He smirked at the confusion on the portrait's face. "The contract was never legal. Only my magical guardian could have entered into a marriage contract on my behalf."

"I was your guardian. I was only looking out for you. It would be best for you to be aligned with a family of the light."

Harry shook his head. "You never were. Sirius was my guardian." Harry held a hand up to quiet the painting. "In your haste to get him out of the way and let him be locked up without a trial, you missed one important fact. Without a trial, Sirius was never convicted officially. And unless he was, he could not be replaced as my magical guardian. Nothing you did on 'my behalf' was technically legal. That means no marriage contract. And I swear Albus, if you were still alive, I'd use every bit of my power to make sure you paid for your abuse of power regarding me and every other person you've manipulated through the years." Standing, Harry made his way back around the desk and headed toward the door. "I guess that is something Snape and I had in common. We were both used by you, played like pawns. I'll never like the man, hell I'll spit on his grave if I happen to step over it once he's in the ground. He tortured a child based on an old school rivalry, and you allowed it. But not even he deserved to be used as you used him. Congratulations Albus, you finally made me feel something more than loathing for Snape."

Harry reached into his sleeve again, pulling out the borrowed wand he'd been using since his was broken at Christmas. Leveling it at the portrait, his hand shook as he tried to pull it from the wall. But it didn't budge. Trying again, Harry finally quit with a grunt as the portrait chuckled. "I told you my boy, I am as much a part of this school as its bricks and mortar."

Harry lifted his gaze, and the grin left Albus' painted features. Reaching back into his jacket Harry pulled the Elder Wand from where he tucked it. "I guess I do have a use for this after all." With a flick of his wrist, the portrait ripped from the wall, dust and bits of stone falling to the floor. Flinging it roughly into the fireplace, Harry brought a roaring flame to life, burning at the heavy frame and canvas. Turning his back as it burned, he glanced back only after the murmurings from the painting had died down. Vanishing the ashes, he scourgified the stone, intent on making sure no traces were left that could be used in any way to redo the portrait. "As I said Albus… only in the history books."

/

Hermione sat at the bottom of the stairs chatting with Hannah and Neville as they caught her up on what had happened during the school year. Harry limped down and fell into a seat behind her, his hand seeking hers.

Neville couldn't help but grin at them. "Took you two long enough."

"Oy, had a dark lord to deal with here! Excuse me for being a bit slow on the uptake." Harry did his best to look put out, but the grin broke through soon enough. "You're one to talk you know. You beat me by half a minute."

Neville grinned at that. "Still beat you. Finally. Harry Potter finally lost to Neville Longbottom in something. Just had to take everything else, the prophecies, the blood feuds."

Hannah and Hermione looked at each other nervously, afraid at where the "teasing" might be going. But their fears were sated by the laughter coming from the boys. At some point they had become comfortable joking with each other, much more so than they had been in the last year.

Neville reached into his pocket. "Think this belongs to you, mate." Holding up the small mirror, he gestured to Harry.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's why you two seem so in sync! You've been talking over the mirrors. How did you find another set?"

Harry grinned. "Last summer when the goblin's contacted me about some inconsistencies following Dumbledore's death. They were looking into who was to be my magical guardian, but it turned out that it was never supposed to be Dumbledore to begin with. It was Sirius. After he passed, it went to my mum's best friend… Alice Longbottom." Harry grinned. "Since she wasn't able, it went back to the head of the household, Augusta. We all found out a lot of things then, and a lot of Dumbledore's machinations came to light. I knew I couldn't trust the Weasley's but it was far too close to the endgame to make that known. Who knows how things would have gone if I had to fight enemies on both fronts? So, using the mirrors we found in Sirius' vault, Neville kept me in the know on what was happening here, and we made our plans."

Neville plastered on a grin of his own. "No one ever knew Harry was helping me with running the D.A., or why I started calling it that instead of Dumbledore's Army. Only did that when I had to keep up appearances."

Hermione twisted to look at Harry. "You're going to be doing a lot more explaining when I'm better able to make sense of it all, Mr. Potter."

"I shall look forward to that and much more, Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed a bit at the playful tone before she turned back, hiding her reddened cheeks.

"Keep the mirror Nev. I'll probably be checking in with you on what all's going on around here."

Neville tucked it back away into his shirt pocket. "You're not sticking around?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll be back around. But right now, I want out of this whole thing. This is no place for me to be after today. I'll never get a moment's peace. I can't recover like that." Squeezing Hermione's hand he grinned. "I'd thought about doing a bit of traveling. I've heard Australia's beautiful this time of year."

Hermione turned back to face him, eyes shimmering. "You'd go with me to find them?"

"Hermione, I'd go anywhere with you." Clutching her hand, he kissed her knuckles. "Always with you."

/

There you go. Hope someone got some enjoyment out of it.