My Harry Potter Alternate Ending
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything. But J.K. Rowling is a genius! I made up the first paragraph with some parts from the seventh book.
Sunlight hit the floor of the Great Hall, as the two opposers circled around. Harry, gripping tightly to his black hawthorne, and You-Know-Who grasping the yew wand with ease and tension, the suspense and silence rose up like a tidal wave. Until finally, Harry broke the silence. His voice, cracked and hoarse, spoke, "Remorse is all you need, Tom. Just a little bit. Like a real man, feel some remorse. Try." Riddle, finally losing his temper, yelled, "Obliviate!" and Harry crumpled down into blackness...
Twenty years later...
Harry stepped out into the setting street of Privet Drive. He had been living comfortably alone in his aunt and uncle's house. Setting off in a brisk pace, he wondered what his nighttime shift at the snack shack may bring him today. Last week, a young woman tried flirting with a muscular young man in his twenties, and Harry had mistakenly took the woman as trying to flirt with him. Just yesterday, a smoker than had recently adopted religion was coming by, but threw an anger burst at two teenage girls who were talking non-stop. Harry smiled to himself as he was crossing the street, for he had narrowly ducked a large wooden table thrown accidentally to his head.
He was about a quarter way away from his workplace when he saw a tall boy in his teens with red hair and freckles. Instinctively, Harry's mind flashed the name Ron. Shaking his head in confusion, he hurried on, only to pass by a girl with bushy, reddish-brown hair. His mind now thought of the name Hermione. Strange, I feel like I've known these names for so long but they seem so new and unfamiliar to me, Harry thought. Another stranger passed, and this boy had a sallow face with a pompous edge. Draco Malfoy, his mind said next. Harry suddenly stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk. Memory rushed over him, washing over every bit of his body it could reach. He leaned against a shabby looking bar, and remembered, consciously, the old bar that was the passageway to the magical Diagon Alley. Harry remembered everything: Hagrid and his friends, Knockturn Ally, the kind Weasley family, and Hogwarts. Hogwarts.
Harry sped home, sprinting as fast as his body will allow. At last, he arrived on his doorstep, breathless and chest heaving. He unlocked the door and sprinted up to his room. Rummaging through all his closet, he found it at last, a traveling trunk. He unzipped it to find a rolled up parcel with a neat string binding it. Underneath were all his old school equipment. Harry, his heart beating like a drum so loud he was sure his neighbors could hear it, slowly unraveled the parcel. A white wooden stick dropped onto the floor. He bent to pick it up. With a wave, he whispered, "Expelliarmus," and sparks ignited at the wand tip. The wand was reunited with its master at last. He rummaged through some grit and uncovered another one of his treasures, the Firebolt. It was still sleek and shiny, but the twigs needed a clipping. With his wand, he produced a set of robes the perfect size for him. He changed, and with the wand in his pocket and Firebolt in his right hand, Harry ran outside to quickly mount and kick off into his kingdom, the air.
When Harry arrived three hours later at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all that met his eyes were the aged ruins of his once true home.
Tell me what you guys think! I already have a few chapters planned out and I'll be posting up a poll later. I was inspired to write this on by my friend, Emily, and this story's origin comes from my brother, Tim.