Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything in the Harry Potter-verse. That belongs to JKR. This is just how I would end things if I did own something. All characters will be returned in the same condition they were borrowed in. ;)
A/N: A lot of people on LiveJournal did this whole 'last paragraph' of HP #7. So I decided to take a crack at it. It's unbeta'd, though I did try and make sure I got things spelled correctly. Oh, and it's more than just the last paragraph. Maybe more like the last half a page or so. Please review and let me know what you think of this. Reviews are love, and definitely encourage the author to write more. :)
"...and then it was over." Harry softly brushed his hand against the stone arch as he thought about how the war had ended three years previously.
Madness. There'd been no obvious line of engagement. Scattered pockets of fighting occured everywhere, causing him to lose track of where most everyone had been. The last he'd seen, Remus had been fighting side-by-side with Tonks to find and kill Pettigrew, Ron had been directing the Last Defenders and Hermione had been working with Madam Pomfrey to quickly patch-up and portkey the injured fighters to St. Mungo. Fred-n-George had been causing enough mayhem all by themselves, as they targeted the DEs. Then there'd been Voldemort, Severus right beside him, and yelling and spell light and then Severus had stabbed Voldemort in the back. Literally. Giving Harry enough time to pull out his matching dagger to complete the ritual. And then there'd been more screaming as anyone with a Mark had collapsed, digging at their forearms. With no time to drag him back to Medi-tent to do it properly, Harry had had to force Severus' left arm down onto the ground with his knee, hoping he'd be forgiven later. Taking a deep breath, he'd uttered the only cutting curse he'd known that would go all the way through the bone without shattering anything too badly, then cast the strongest blood-clotting spell he'd learned from Hermione, severing the hated Mark.
"Then the bloody Wizengamot had the gall to throw Severus and so many other people who'd worked so hard to end the war into Azkaban! And while you might not think anything about him being in there Sirius, they also tried to throw Remus in too. For being a werewolf! Didn't matter to them that he'd worked to try and keep the other werewolves from joining Voldemort, even if they wouldn't fight against him. Or that he'd lost Tonks when she and Bellatrix ended up Avada-ing each other." He scowled at the memory. "Probably trying to get rid of any reminders that they'd failed to get anything done. So," he shrugged. "I used every bit of fame and power I had from being The-Boy-Who-Kicked-Scaly-Arse, and threw my weight around a bit. Threatened the right idiots, gave the right interviews. Ruined my reputation in some circles, but I got them all out."
Hearing a noise behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, then nodded. He stood, and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "I have to go soon Sirius, I'm leaving England. Most of the people here are either too awe-struck, or too afraid of me. I can't go anywhere in Wizarding England without them all staring at me, even worse then before." Harry swiped a hand across his face, and let it rest across his mouth as he thought about the last thing he'd wanted to tell Sirius. "I know that you probably wouldn't approve of some of the things I've done with my life since then. But see, that's the thing. It's my life now Sirius. I've done what they wanted. I got rid of the big bad that everyone else was too afraid of to even say his name. I did some of the politics, got some unfair laws changed. I'm done with what everyone expects, or thinks is right for me. So I'm leaving. But I won't be going alone, I'll be taking love with me. Sappy as it sounds." Staring for a moment at the tattered Veil, he listened the muted whispers trying to beckon him in, then shook his head and patted the arch firmly goodbye. "Goodbye Sirius."
He turned and walked briskly towards the exit, not looking back. Two figures waited on the other side of the doorway, back lit. Green eyes met black and warm amber-brown, before all three turned and left, the backs of hands brushing gently against each other.
THE END!
Edit: 10-29-2008 - Fixed some spelling/grammer mistakes.