Thirty-five years later, he still mourned. He mourned the life he could have had, the terrible events of years before, and the young lives tragically cut short by Voldemort. Halloween, 2016, Harry Potter sat alone in a Muggle bar, drinking whatever the bartender would give him. At 36 years old, Harry was thoroughly middle aged, complete with angst and crisis. He was so much older now, older than his parents ever got, and older than he ever thought he would be, especially twenty years earlier. He took a swig of his drink.
Around him, young couples in costumes, old men with their buddies, and parents obviously exhausted from trick-or-treating all chattered and flitted around, but Harry sat alone. He had dodged his friends and loved ones to escape into Muggle London, and he wanted to keep his low profile.
As he sat, time seemed to drag on, only punctuated by the refills of his drink and the far-away jingle as the door opened and shut. Around midnight, Harry noticed a presence near him, and he tried to suppress his instinct to draw his wand. He slowly looked up and turned to his right, only to see a blonde woman quietly sipping her own drink, watching him with her wide blue eyes.
"Hi, Harry."
Harry stared at her suspiciously. "What are you doing here, Luna?"
Luna blinked slowly and took another sip. "I'm sitting. Here with you." She looked over Harry's head to a television set in the corner of the room. "There seem to be a lot of nargles in America these days."
Harry snorted into his drink and followed Luna's gaze, missing the ghost of a smile that passed her face. "Sometimes it makes me miss Voldemort, to be honest," he said darkly, and returned to his glass. Luna's gaze uncharacteristically hardened.
"Harry." He looked up, surprised by the firmness in Luna's voice and was met with a frown. "You don't mean that. I know you don't. That's why you're here."
"You don't have any idea why I'm here," Harry growled, scowling at Luna's presumption. "Just leave and let me drink in peace." He moved to grab his drink again, but Luna was quicker. She grabbed it and drank the rest of it in one gulp, leaving Harry frozen with his mouth open. "What the he** has gotten into you, Luna? Why the he** are you here?"
Blue eyes stared down green. "It's been thirty-five years."
She motioned to the bartender and ordered two cups of tea, one of which she proceeded to drink. Harry grabbed his cup and glared down at it, refusing to drink. "I'm older than I have any right to be," he murmurs to himself. If Luna hears, she doesn't acknowledge him. "What the he** have I even done with my life? Killed a Dark Lord?" He scoffs. "I couldn't even manage to do that by myself. I couldn't save all those people who gave up their lives for me! And nineteen years later I still can't get over my bloody hero complex. What the he** have I done with my life?"
As he got more agitated, his voice rose, but no one around him seemed to hear or pay any attention.
"They had so much more potential. She could have been a Charms mistress, or a teacher, or, I don't know, something else really important. And he was so great at Transfiguration! And Quidditch! They could have done anything, but instead, they died. They died stopping a Dark Lord. They died saving me. It's just….they were so young. And what the he** have I done to repay them?
"You know, I never really got to meet them. Once, in fourth year, when I was fighting Voldemort…our wands were twins…Priori Incantatem…their, spirits, I guess, appeared and told me to run. And then before I died, they said they loved me." He turned to Luna, a desperate but hopeless look in his eyes. "I had the Resurrection Stone, Luna. I had it. I could have talked to them, asked them about their lives. I could have told them I loved them. I had an opportunity to thank them, and instead I just selfishly asked if it would hurt to die, and if they would stay with me. What kind of son does that make me? I've had nineteen years to think about it, Luna. Nineteen years to watch my friends become parents. Nineteen years wondering how my life could have been different. Nineteen years of futilely searching the Forbidden Forest for that bloody stone to say goodbye one last time."
Luna was silent as she watched Harry, tears slowly dripping down his face, gulp down the now lukewarm tea. She stood up in a fluid motion and gestured for Harry to follow. He wiped his eyes roughly with the heel of his hand and stood as well.
"Where are you going?"
"I think I have a gift for you." And with that she walked out of the bar, pausing at the door for Harry to catch up. Once outside, she grabbed his arm and Apparated away.
They landed in a clearing, an all-too-familiar clearing. Harry compulsively traced the scar on his forehead. In his mind's eye he could see Voldemort pacing, talking to his Death Eaters. He could see the Malfoy's, scared for their son, clutching each other in a corner. He could visualize his own dead body strewn in the center. Harry's eyes closed and he turned away. He felt Luna's hand cautiously graze his arm, and he opened his eyes. Luna looked a little apologetic as she took a step back and held out a closed fist to Harry.
"It was the year after the war. I was helping Hagrid with some of the magical creatures in the forest, the thestral herd and such, when I saw this on the ground. You know me….and you know my father….so it shouldn't be hard to guess that I recognized it for what it was. I wanted to just leave it there and never think about it again. Unlike my father, I do know some things are better left fairy tales, but I felt like I needed to keep it for some time in the future. I had to keep it for you."
She slowly uncurled her fist, and there, nestled in her palm, gleamed a black stone with a scratched symbol. Harry's eyes went wide before narrowing in accusation.
"You kept this from me, from the Wizarding World, for eighteen years?!"
Luna seemed to wilt under his gaze, looking much younger, almost as if she were back at Hogwarts. But then she stopped. She met Harry's eyes and tilted her chin up. "Yes. I did."
Harry hesitantly reached out and pinched the black stone between his fingers and Luna stepped away.
"I'll be just over here afterward."
Distractedly, Harry nodded, still staring at the stone. After a moment, he brought up his other hand and twisted the stone three times. Before the stone had finished turning, light surrounded him. Harry looked up and was met by the shimmering figure of his mother, Lily, looking so much younger than he remembered. Beside her stood James, Sirius, and Remus, all looking young, carefree, and happy to see him.
"M-mum…Dad…Sirius…Remus…." He choked out, not able to say much more. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down his face. When he looked up, all of them seemed to have tears in their eyes.
"Oh, Harry," his mother said as she bent down in front of him. "Sweetheart…"
Harry could only sob. An eternity later, the tears began to slow, and Harry could stand up to face them once more.
"I just wanted to say I love you. All of you. And," he dried his eyes again, "I'm so sorry for being such a terrible son before, and that I couldn't live up to your examples. I was selfish, and I never thanked you….for being there for me, and dying for me."
"Don't think that!" James' response was quick and fierce. "You are not a terrible son! You have helped and done so much more than we could ever have hoped for you!"
Remus heartily agreed with James and said so, but Sirius was quiet. In thirty-six years, Harry had not lacked in observation skills, and he noticed Sirius's silence, and was about to comment on it when Sirius looked him directly in the eyes and began to speak.
"Harry. Whatever you think you haven't done in life that you should have, whatever bullcrap idea you've been telling yourself, forget it. You don't know what it is to disappoint a family—we could never be disappointed in you. We've watched you grow up and do great things…after we died. If anything, you should be disappointed in us and the fact that we weren't even around to help you." Sirius's gaze was firm, holding back what Harry could see was decades worth of pain and regret. "Dying is the worst thing that could have happened to us, if only because it left you alone."
Harry was about to protest when Sirius cut him off.
"Harry, you're older than all of us now. Well, maybe except for Moony. You've lived and done more good than probably all of us combined." Remus, at the mention of his name walked forward giving Sirius a raised eyebrow before taking over.
"First, I want to say I have no idea when Sirius became so wise." At this Sirius snorted and Harry gave a watery chuckle. "And second, Harry, you need to stop dwelling on your perceived failures. You have no idea how much you have done for so many people." He gestured behind Harry.
Harry turned around, and to his amazement saw more figures littering the clearing. Dumbledore, Moody, Fred, Tonks, the Creevey brothers, Lavender Brown and others that Harry couldn't name. They all waved at him, with grins on their faces, and one light-haired woman gave a quick bow and disappeared behind a tree. But standing near the back, blending into the shadows even though he was literally made of light, was Snape. His mouth was curved in his typical glower, but his black eyes looked softer, if that was possible.
Snape scowled at Harry, like he had done in life, and when she saw it, Lily walked forward past her son to drag Snape forward. Harry's eyes widened and he started to warn his mother away from his old professor when he caught the looks on their faces. Snape came to stand by the rest of the Marauders and Harry was dumbfounded by everyone's cordiality.
James Potter's voice broke the silence.
"Whatever did happen between you and that Weasley girl? Ginny, was it?"
Harry also wondered what had happened with him and Ginny. After the war, it had just seemed to click, like it was meant to be. Harry was happy, Ginny was great, until one day it just….stopped working. Harry woke up one day, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of an actual reason he was with Ginny. Sure she was smart, funny, and attractive, but beyond that Harry didn't have a reason. Did he just really want to be a part of the Weasley family? Did he think Potters had to marry redheads? So he told Ginny it wasn't going to work and by the end of the day he had sold his flat and moved across London, never looking back. That was years ago, though, and since then Harry hadn't really been able to find someone who liked Just Harry except his friends.
"Dunno," he responded, looking back at his family. They were all smiling at him. Even Snape managed a little less of a grimace. This was his family. This was his home. And soon enough, they would all be gone, back to whatever world or dimension the dead reside in. But despite that, Harry was happy. He was able to see them again, tell them all the things he had wanted to, that he had kept inside for years.
"I love you all," Harry whispered. He sat down on the ground as he watched all of the shimmering bodies fade away, and heard their voices trail off until the only sound was the wind.
Harry sat for a long time. He still held the Resurrection Stone in his hand, but he no longer wanted to use it. He was at peace, and his loved ones were at peace. There wasn't anything else he could ask for.
Blonde hair flashed in the corner of his eye as Luna walked back into the clearing. She was smiling happily to herself. Harry watched as she skipped forward and sat down next to him, marvelling at how young Luna still acted. Well maybe not young, but carefree. They sat together in silence, reflecting underneath the stars.