I could not believe my eyes when I saw the letter that was tied to the leg of a pure white snowy owl. It was a letter from Harry Potter, asking ME specifically for an interview. This was impossible; the man has never given an interview in his life since his fifth year of Hogwarts when he was asked by the quibbler about the night he saw Voldemort return to his body. He is the most celebrated and revered wizard on the face of the planet, the most powerful man on earth, and also the most private man on earth. He has been the most beloved headmaster since Albus Dumbledore, and will retain that title for the remainder of his days. Why did he choose me, a humble reporter for the Daily Prophet, to conduct an interview? Yet, there was a letter in his handwriting addressed to me, Robert Fought, asking for an interview on his 134th birthday. Needless to say I accepted the offer without hesitation.

I approached his humble home in Hogsmeade thinking of the many accomplishments that Harry has to his name. He defeated Voldemort, he stopped the death eaters, he has crushed dark uprisings for decades and most recently defeated Ericson Lestrange, the darkest wizard in over 100 years. Ericson Lestrange thought that Professor Potter was too old and weak to face him. And as the late Mr. Lestrange would tell you if he could, he was wrong. I walked up the pathway to his door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

The door opened almost at once and there stood Professor Harry James Potter. His hair was still wild and untamable but now sporting many gray areas along with the black. His face was covered with lines and on his forehead was the unmistakable lightning bolt scar. His mouth opened in a grin that reached to his sparkling green eyes behind wire-framed lenses that he has worn for years.

"Come inside Mr. Fought, and welcome," he said with warmth.

"Thank you sir," I answered with reverence in my voice.

"Come now Mr. Fought," he said almost laughingly, "If you do not loose that formal expression this will be the most boring experience of your life, and if I am not mistaken, this is an opportunity you will not want to loose. Also, please call me Harry"

"Very well, ... Harry," I said with hesitation.

"That's better, now come in and sit down while I get some tea."

I sat down and looked around his living room with wonder in my eyes. I saw the broken wand of Voldemort in a glass case which would never be used again; there was the sword of Godric Gryffindor, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the locket of Salazar Slytherin, and the Shield of Rowena Ravenclaw. Also, there was a curious golden egg which had a minature dragon walking around it almost as an guard. Most importantly however, there were many pictures of his friends and family, and these seemed to Harry to be the most priceless things that he owned.

He returned with the tea and we made some small talk about the Quidditch World Cup that was being hosted In England after an absence of many years. After a while, I asked him the question that had been in my head for a long time.

"Excuse me sir, um, Harry, why did you pick me for this interview, is it because we are related?"

"Are we?" he asked with surprise, "in what way?"

"Well sir, I never met the man but Dudley Dursley was my great-great grandfather, but I understand that you two were never the best of friends."

He proceeded to laugh his head off at that statement, and it was quite a long time before he was able to regain his composure.

"I am sorry about that uncontrollable outburst, but Dudley would be rolling over in his grave if he knew that one of his direct descendants was a wizard," he exclaimed with laugh lines being further ingrained in his forehead. "I still can't believe that Rachel girl said yes to his proposal." He paused for breath and then continued,

"No, the reason I asked you for a personal interview was because your book, "A History of Hogwarts Revised" which has a chapter about house elves, would have made my friend Hermione's day. In fact the expression on her face would be priceless." he said with fondness in his voice.
"As you know, almost all house-elves are accepting wages and holidays because of her dedicated work and kindly heart."

He stayed quiet for a very long time, and then he said simply,
"Now, to business."

"Yes sir," I exclaimed, "Now, when you defeated Lord Voldemort, how did you...?"

He put up his hand for silence and said very softly and firmly, "I do not wish to talk about that chapter in my life, and do not refer to that THING as a Lord."

Right then I caught a glimpse of the spectacular power that resides in this man, and I was more than a little afraid. I could not even begin to realize the fear that Voldemort felt when he faced Harry Potter uncloaked.

He continued speaking, "Many people think that my victory over Voldemort, excuse me, Mr. Riddle, was the most important event in my life, but let me assure you that it was not, I wish to talk about two deaths that happened many years ago and the connection between them."

I asked cautiously, "Who?"

"My best friend Ron Weasley and another man." He continued, "As you know, my friend Ron was murdered right after my defeat of Voldemort. His death was an act of vengeance against me, it was violent, pointless, and it hurt me to the very soul."

He sat there with a pained expression in his eyes and then continued,

"Of course some of the death eaters escaped justice, they are clever people, and I disappeared for two years of my life which my biographers call "The Lost Years" where very few people knew where I was and what I was doing. I went into the wizard underworld for those years, consorting with the very worst of the scum on earth, searching, sometimes twisting arms until they broke to find the name of Ron's murderer. It took me exactly one year to find out the name of this criminal, and that name was Cardon Freen."

"I have heard of him sir," I exclaimed, "He was a unspeakable before he revealed his true loyalties, and he disappeared right after the final battle."

"That is right, he covered his tracks exceptionally well, the man was a monster but he was not stupid," explained Harry, "After I learned his name, I took another year to hunt him down, but one happy day I learned of his whereabouts and paid him a visit"

He just sat there slipping his tea thoughtfully while I was riveted to my seat with tension, finally I asked.

"What happened?"

"Oh, we dueled, and he lost." he said simply, "I had him bound and was about to take him to the ministry when I remembered coming upon Ron's body, I remember the pain on his face that was still evident, and I remember seeing the gaping hole in his chest and I could not let this man escape to hurt someone else I love. So, I took that sword behind you and gave him a far easier death than he gave Ron. I simply stuck the sword through his heart and ended it right there."

I was watching his face and could see that there was a lot of pain there. I was trying to ask him if anyone else knew, but he stopped me with this statement."
"i can see that you are having trouble forming coherent sentences, so I will summarize this for you, I murdered Cardon Freen."
"Did anyone else know?"

"My wife Ginny," he answered, "Ron's family and also Neville and Hermione Longbottom, they had a right to know."

I asked with hesitation, "Did any of them ever want to turn you in?"

He laughed, "Only Percy, but his parents threatened to disown him, Bill could get his finances ruined, Charlie had many friends that were dragons, and Fred and George made sure that he would never have any desire to tell anyone about this if he wanted to keep some dignity in his life," he paused for a breath, "It doesn't matter anymore, all of them are gone, The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, I have even outlived my own son, not that he did much."

"What?" I said.

"I shouldn't have said that, James had a good heart but he just was not the sharpest pencil in the box, I never told him but I was very disappointed when he was sorted into Hufflepuff," he said in a sad voice, "Anyway, the good thing that came out of his life were my grandchildren, now there are plenty of Potter's all around the world."

I was having this terrific battle in my mind about what I was going to do next. I needed this interview and this money, but I could not and would not let the name of Potter be tarnished. I mean, this is HARRY POTTER, the most celebrated wizard in the world.

"Sir," I said while rising to my feet and walking over to the fire, "I will destroy these notes right now if you want me to. I know that you will never go to jail, the public wouldn't stand for it. But descendants of Freen or some young hotshot lawyer could make life difficult for you. And what about your family, and the students at Hogwarts, they almost worship you."

Harry stopped me with these words, "Exactly, I want this article to be published, I want my conscience cleared. My children and my students need to know that I am a man, nothing more and nothing less, with the same weaknesses as other men. Besides, anyone who wants to punish me for these actions will have a hard time because this house is rented, I gave all my money to the school and my grandchildren, and in a short time I will be dead," he saw the look on my face, "And don't look so shocked, do you know anyone who has lived as long as me?

"But Sir," I protested, the pain obvious in my voice, '' the world needs you, the people need you."

"It is time," he said with finality, "I want to see all those that I love again, and the world is in good hands because there will always be good people to stand against the evil. Now, promise me that after I am dead you will publish this article, do not make me haunt you. After all, as my late headmaster said, "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure"."

I stood there wondering what to do, after a long time of standing and thinking I made my decision and rushed towards the fire. Mr. Potter whipped out his wand in a blur of movement and before I knew where I was I arrived in my office with a bang and Harry Potter standing right next to me.

"Promise me," he said with a touch of anger, "I am very serious."

I agreed, he left, and I started to write my article

Two days later I got an owl from Mr. Potter with his tickets for me and my wife, Katherine, to see the quidditch world cup from the top box with this note.

Robert,
Here are tickets for the cup, I won't need them, although I am disappointed that I won't be able to see whether America or Egypt has the better quidditch team.

Cheers,
Harry Potter

The wizarding world was shaken to its roots a day later with the news that Harry Potter, hero of the masses, had died peacefully in his sleep surrounded by many descendants. True to my promise, I printed the article and then proceeded to fall to my knees and cry for the man who had done everything in his power to save the innocent from the evil.

Harry James Potter