Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Hence this being called fan fiction. See?
Summary: The final battle has taken place. But what happened? OOTP spoilers.
AN: This is my first fic and I'm not really sure whether it is any good or not. Please review and constructive criticism is particularly welcome. Thanks. By the way, the beginning is particularly crappy, so please give it a chance, as it does get better, before you give up on it entirely.
The Final Battle
Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.
Abraham Lincoln
The room was silent, waiting for IT to start. It was a rather unlikely group of people. There was Hermione and Ron, the rest of the Weasley's, Dumbledore, Remus Lupin….everyone you would expect. But then there was Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. Not exactly who you would expect.
The ministry wizard strode briskly into Dumbledore's office, and placed a penseive on his desk. The improbable group just sat and stared at it. Then Dumbledore spoke, his voice betraying how old he felt.
"I believe I must begin," he sighed and took the lid off the penseive. A deadly hush fell over the room as a figure of Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, the Boy Who Lived, rose out.
He looked at them directly, seeming surprised, and they stared back, equally shocked. How could he see them?
Eventually he spoke.
"How can I see you?" He looked bewildered. He raised his hand and waved it in front of him. "There's no-one there," he muttered, as though to himself. He continued to murmur under his breath, "Just get on with it, you're imagining things. There's no-one there."
"Well, I guess you all know why you're here. Well, if you're watching this then I've died." A pause.
"Well, I suppose I must begin." He said softly.
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Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, sat at the top of the astronomy tower, shivering slightly with June's cold night's breeze. He brought out the heavy penseive and placed it in front of him.
This was it.
He had prepared himself so well for this moment. But now the time had come, he didn't know where to start. Bracing himself, he drew his wand and muttered the incantation.
"Excido."
He opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and blinked in surprise. In front of him were a whole lot of people! Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape….in fact, everyone, he was planning to come to his will reading. But why were they there now?
He cursed himself angrily. Of course there was no one there; it was his imagination. He was unaware that he had voiced these thoughts out loud.
"Well, I guess you all know why you're here." He almost hit himself. What a stupid thing to start with! "Well, if you're watching this then I've died." Great, he thought sourly. Just great. I am really good at this. He shook himself out of his thoughts and spoke once more.
"Well, I suppose I must begin."
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The group in Dumbledore's office were stonily silent, eyes transfixed on their saviour, risen out of the penseive. Their saviour, that was looking decidedly uncomfortable.
" I don't know where to start, really. Well, I suppose, I'd better apologise, firstly. I'm sorry." He looked so pained as he said this. "I don't want this any more than you do, you know." He peered at their unbelieving faces. He was obviously becoming angry. "What you don't believe me?!? Of course I don't want this! You think I want to die!" He face morphed into realization.
"Oh. You think I'm committing suicide, don't you? Well, let me tell you, even if I wanted to commit suicide, I couldn't. You know why? Because of the damned prophecy! I have to save you all! I can't kill myself because that would be effectively killing all of you, too. Don't you see that?"
Mrs Weasley bit back a sob, at the look on the young man's face. The boy, who was as good as a son to her, looked pained beyond anything. 'He's so young,' she thought to herself. 'Why does it have to be this way?'
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Harry didn't miss the look on Mrs Weasley's face. He forced himself to calm down. He then realized that he'd been talking to the figures on top of the astronomy tower. As if they were actually sitting there, watching his will reading. Well, maybe they were? Maybe that was the way things worked in the wizarding world? Somehow he doubted it. It was just one more way in which The Boy Who Lived was special. 'Great,' he though dully. 'Just great'
"Well, I'm sure you're all wondering what happened," he continued more evenly, "What I did in the final battle with Voldermort. You know, its funny. I'm sitting here and I have no idea what happened. And then there are all of you. You know what happened, don't you? Whether I saved the world or not?" He laughed ironically. "It doesn't make any difference, does it? Either way, I'm dead.
"You know, if I had the choice, I wouldn't want to know. I wouldn't want to know the outcome of The Final Battle. Because if I did…well, if I knew I was going to lose, then it would be so hard to do anything. Because I'd still have to go out there, wouldn't I? I'd have to go out there and try, even if I knew for sure that I was going to lose. And if I knew I was going to win…. Well, I think that would be almost as hard, really. Because I'd still die."
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Severus Snape stiffened at that statement. So many meanings hidden behind those four words. He sighed. Why had Harry Potter asked for him to be at his will reading? He hated the boy; he thought he'd made that reasonably clear. Although, Snape had to admit, Harry wasn't as arrogant as he had once thought. He wasn't James.
"Well, you're all wondering, I can tell, what happened between Voldermort and myself in those final moments. What I did to, either kill him, or how I failed. Well, if I didn't succeed…" Harry paused, collecting himself. "If I didn't succeed then I don't know what happened. There are so many things that can go wrong; it could've been any of them. But if I succeeded…then…well, that I can explain."
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Harry took a deep breath. He had to get this bit right. All the books on wizard's wills had made it crystal clear that you only had one chance. One chance to get what you wanted to say right. It certainly wasn't easy.
"I've been pretty busy these last two years. Studying and such. But I've also been looking up curses." Harry swallowed. "Dark arts. Things that will destroy Voldermort for good. Avada Kedavra won't work on him; I found that out in my sixth year. But of course, you all know that, already. I found a spell; it was in a book in the restricted section: repercutio excessus. It works like this: I cast that spell on Voldermort, and then if I Avada Kedavra myself, he'll die too.
"God, I wish there was another way. I really do. But I've looked and I've looked, and I can't see one. I don't want to die," Harry said, suddenly looking like a frightened child. "I don't want to die. This is not me choosing the easy way out. Death isn't easy. At least, I wouldn't expect so. I wouldn't know. I've never died."
Harry laughed once more. "Voldermort said that to me, once, you know? In my fourth year, after the triwizard tournament. Its scary how much I've become like him."
He paused.
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The very air in Albus Dumbledore's office suddenly became very heavy.
Albus sat in silence, calmly regarding his student who had come so far. He remembered him as a frightened first year, with the sorting hat placed on his head, as it spoke to him of doing well in Slytherin. But despite his calm exterior, Albus Dumbledore was far from untroubled. His student, his Harry. And he could do nothing to save him.
"You said that to me once, Professor Dumbledore," Harry continued, " You said I should stop, when you found me researching the dark arts in the library. But no magic is inherently evil; it is only how it is used. You can even use the unforgivables for good. It is Professor Snape who taught me that," he said, with a slight smile
"Oh yes, I do listen to you sometimes, Professor," he carried on, with a sly smile, now. "When I believe it to be important I can retain facts. Yes, even potions," he said when Professor Snape smirked.
"Or are you forgetting the mark on my potion OWL. I got into your NEWT class, if you remember? Not that it did me any good, anyway. I'll be dead before the NEWTs are held. That reminds me of a comment that Dean once made," he persisted, smiling at Dean, where he sat in front of him, in the future of Dumbledore's office.
"If I remember correctly, Dean said that it was nice to see that between wondering whether Voldermort was going to kill me and whether I would live to see the next day, I was still worried about what Professor Snape would say about my potions homework."
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Harry shivered once more and pulled his cloak tighter around him.
"You know the reason I still cared, Dean, was that I had to. I had to keep on caring because if I didn't then life wasn't really worth living. It's weird, isn't it? But I had to keep caring about the little things, or Voldermort had really got what he wanted. To ruin my life. But I guess he got that anyway."
"By the way, if you're wondering when I'm recording this," he spoke again, "Well, I've just been to Dumbledore to inform him that the Death Eater's will attack at dawn. And Voldermort, of course. After I'd woken you up, Dean, Neville, Seamus, and Ron.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he said, rather sheepishly. "I've woken you up rather often, screaming with visions, especially over the last two years. Well, you won't have to deal with that any more, don't worry. Anyway, its not long until dawn. Until the prophecy is fulfilled, one way or another.
"Professor Dumbledore, you didn't really expect me to hold up my promise to stay in Gryffindor tower, did you? You knew I had to go out and fight. I could see it in your eyes, even as you made me swear. I have to fight today. Become a murderer or be murdered. Its not exactly a pleasant thought," he said with a sad smile.
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Arthur Weasley looked at the boy, whom had he come to regard as nearly another son of his own, with his eyes full of tears. 'Why does it have to be him?' came into his head, but he pushed it away. There was nothing he could do now, and besides, it had to be someone, didn't it? There was no sense in regretting things that could never be changed.
"Well I suppose I'd better get onto the actual 'dividing up of my estate', hadn't I?" Harry looked so old, so wise, as he stood before them. But also so tired.
"Well, I'll start with Remus Lupin. Remus," he said, looking straight at him, "I guess the first thing I have to say is that, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about Sirius, Remus." Tears were now flowing freely down both Remus and Harry's faces and Harry's voice broke as he continued speaking.
"God, Remus, I don't know what to say. I am so sorry. But sometimes sorry just isn't adequate. I know that. But I needed to say it anyway. I didn't mean it, but I suppose you already know that. I lead Sirius to his death and I would give up anything I had to undo that awful day, you have to know that I would do that. Sirius was everything to me and to you as well, I know. But I can't do anything to change it. All I can say is that I am sorry. And I am.
"Remus, I am leaving you a quarter of my vault and a quarter of Sirius'. Its not charity, so please accept it Remus. It's a gift. A thank you. And an apology. So, to the best defence against the dark arts teacher I have ever had, I leave you what amounts to…a hell of a lot of money!" Harry laughed softly through his tears.
Remus looked Harry straight in the eye, and tried to communicate with a simple glance that it was OK. He didn't blame Harry and he never had. Not really, anyway. He hadn't meant those awful things he'd said. He was just grief stricken and slightly hung over, and those are not a good combination for a werewolf just before full moon. But Harry wasn't even looking at him anymore.
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'Well, then Potter,' said a voice inside Harry's head. 'You've got this far, just keep going. And they can't say anything to you because you'll be dead by this point, whether the plan works or not.'
Harry tried hard to ignore the little nagging voice inside his head, but it is very hard to ignore a voice that is telling you that you'll be dead in less than 12 hours.
"Well, I'll go onto my next person then, shall I? I think I'll do Professor Mcgonnagal next. Well, Professor, I believe thanks are in order. Not just for saving my butt last year, but also for being a wonderful head of house in all the years I've been at Hogwarts. You've always been fantastic, so thank you very much for the support you've given me."
Professor Mcgonnagal looked at her student. Never had she known a Gryffindor to be so selfless and so brave. Well, maybe Lily Evans…
"Well, next has to be Molly and Arthur Weasley. Now, here, more than just thanks are in order. You have been wonderful towards me ever since I first met you trying to get onto platform 9 ¾. You've been amazing towards me ever since. The quidditch world cup, coming to see me at the triwizard tournament, all the weeks I spent at your house. And that's not even including you taking me in after the Dursley's were murdered last year! I never had a family, not one I would count as a family, anyway. The Dursley's were never that great. But I found my family seven years ago on platform 9 ¾. My gratitude to you is beyond words. To Molly and Arthur Weasley, I leave you half the money in my vault and half the money in Sirius' vault. Again, it's a gift, not charity, so please accept it. I love you both."
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Arthur and Molly Weasley sat, holding onto each other as though the world around them was falling apart, tears without restraint were running down both their cheeks. Although Harry couldn't hear them, Molly mumbled a 'Thank you, Harry,' and although it was clumsily said, the words obviously came from the heart.
"I hope you understand that the money isn't what really matters, though. I'm not a great speaker, but I really do thank you from the depths of my heart"
There was a long silence where the penseive Harry collected his thoughts.
"This is to all the Weasleys: I'm really sorry about Percy and Bill." He grinned slightly at their shocked faces. "Yes, you see, I do know some things. Its funny, after I dropped divination in sixth year, I've started having all these prophesising dreams. Trelawney was just holding me back, I actually have the makings of a seer," he said jokingly.
"But in all seriousness, I am really sorry about Percy and Bill. I never knew either of them well, but I know they did their best. Percy had really changed, Ron," said Harry, his emerald eyes meeting with Ron's blue. Ron's ears went pink and Harry laughed, a true laugh, his green eyes sparkling with merriment. It lightened all their hearts to see that he could still laugh, still live after the shadow of the prophecy lingering over him. But he wouldn't live much longer. As soon as dawn broke…
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Harry shifted awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable position on the window ledge. He glanced down to the ground; it was a long way down. It had always been so tempting…but he couldn't do it. The world needed him. In a few hours time they wouldn't have him anymore, need or no. The Boy Who Lived would live no longer.
'What do I feel about it?' he thought. Well, he didn't want to die in many ways but in others…he was just so tired, he wanted to sleep. And he might see Sirius again…
Harry shook himself out of his daze and fixed his eyes on the two identical redheads sitting before him. Fred and George. Their turn next.
"Well Fred and George," he said, looking at each of them in turn. "Or maybe, George and Fred? I don't know. Why does Fred always have to come first, anyway? Ah well.
"Well, my dear Mauraders-in-the-making, I have a hell of a lot of thanks you two for. I don't know what I would have done without your idiotic pranks and inane jokes. You certainly kept me on my toes. Perhaps even more so than Voldermort!"
He laughed again. This time the laugh was more forced, the eyes more strained. Harry Potter felt no mirth; that much was clear.
"Well, I leave you the remaining quarter of the Potter vault to fund Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Spend it wisely, my boys. On a whole load of junk that you don't really need, preferably, but of course it is up to you.
"I also have something important to tell you." Harry paused for dramatic effect. "I know who the Mauraders were!"
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Fred and George Weasley were speechless. Considering, normally they never stopped talking, this was quite an achievement. They stared at Harry, open-mouthed, as he spoke again. Harry had known who their heroes were and he only thought to tell them now! Good job he's dead, thought George, Or I might have had to kill him.
"One of them is sitting in the room with you now!"
George looked around desperately, trying to work out who it was before Harry told them, which would of course spoil their dignity. Fred merely continued to gaze at Harry.
"Professor Lupin is Moony, Sirius Black was Padfoot, my dad was Prongs and Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail. You will notice that I say 'was.' I will kill Peter when dawn breaks, before I move onto Voldermort. Him and Bellatrix Lestrange. We have scores to settle."
Harry's voice was hard and cold, no longer any mirth crossed his features. The twins had been gloating and throwing incredulous glances at Professor Lupin, but at the look on Harry's face, they immediately sobered. They were not entirely tactless. They knew there was a time and a place for jokes and this obviously was not it.
"Well boys, thank you for all the laughs you've given me over the years. Oh yeah, and one more thing: don't let the others get too serious. You can stay children forever, you know? You can make up for me. I never had a childhood."
"Now, Charlie. I never really knew you. I really wish that I had taken the time to get to know you, now. But I have heard a lot about you from your brothers, of course. Who knows how much of it is true? Well, have a good life, Charlie. Thank you for being there for Ron. I feel I almost know you from what he told me about you. But not quite."
Charlie silently acknowledged what Harry was trying to say. It was very clumsily put but Charlie knew what he meant.
"Now, Ginny. And this will be the last of the Weasleys, except Ron of course. Well, Ginny, although we have never known each other very well, I feel we have some level of mutual understanding. What with Riddle's diary in your first year. I will promise you one thing, Ginny. I will stand up to Voldermort's face and call him Tom and I will think of you. Of your bravery and your spirit, Ginny. And of the awareness we have together. Thank you, Ginny, for being my silent watcher."
Ginny Weasley sat in great shock. She couldn't believe it. She had never expectedanything like this from Harry. But then again, Harry always managed to accomplish the unexpected, even now that he was dead. She had realised long ago that her crush on him hadn't been on Harry; it had been on The Boy Who Lived. But still, her heart warmed to hear these things from a great friend, a brave friend. She thanked Harry silently.
"Well, now its onto Nymphadora and Moody. No, you don't like that name?" he said mockingly at Tonks' scowl. "Fine then, Tonks it is. Well, just a big thanks for all the help and the 'Constant Vigilance', Professor! Tonks, I'm afraid I don't have anything to give you, just thanks. And for Moody, well I heard you never did get your best invisibility cloak back. Well, I'm leaving you mine. Thank you so much."
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Harry mentally checked off whom he had left to speak to. Well, of course, Dean, Seamus and Neville, Malfoy and Snape, and then Professor Dumbledore. Then, finally, Ron and Hermione. Those two would be the hardest.
"Well," he spoke again, at last, "I suppose its onto Dean, Seamus and Neville next. Well boys, I'm leaving you something, but I'm also asking you to do something for me."
He paused. "I'm leaving you a thousand galleons between the three of you to do what you please with. Spend it well, guys. And, on my 18th birthday, I'd like to you to arrange a party. Something big and noisy, but there's no need to mention what the event is. Get yourself pissed and have some fun. You know, I never did get to try firewhisky," he added wistfully.
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The three Gryffindor boys, smiled sadly up at their former roommate, not letting their tears fall. They had to be strong. They were Gryffindors, after all. They had to be brave.
Neville silently thanked Harry for killing that bitch, Bellatrix Lestrange. If Harry hadn't, then Neville would. And his grandmother would certainly have had words to say with him about THAT!
The penseive Harry looked thoughtful and then his eyes fell upon the only two occupants of the room who were not seated.
"So, I think I must get started on my two Slytherin friends," Harry said with a wry grin. "I expect you're all dieing to hear what I have to say to them. Well, if you're hoping for me to start off on the greasy bastard route, Ron, then I'm afraid you're to be disappointed.
"Well, I'll start with Malfoy, shall I? Or Draco, as I should say, now that you've changed sides? Well, if you're hoping for me to give you hundreds of galleons, then I'm afraid you're to be disappointed. I'm not leaving you anything, Draco. I just wanted to say well done. It must have taken guts to stand up to your father. So, congratulations. And thanks.
"So, onto Snape, finally. I've pondered long and hard on what to leave you. I considered leaving you a bottle of shampoo with a note to wash your hair," Snape snarled, as Harry smirked, "But I decided against it. Instead, I have left you Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
A stunned silence ensued.
"Bet that shocked you, right Professor?"
Indeed it had. Severus Snape who prided himself in not showing his emotions was utterly gob-smacked, to put it mildly. He could only stare at the figure of the past Harry, who was grinning at him.
"It was very Slytherin of me, wasn't it, Professor? To make you look a fool in front of all these people. But then again, the sorting hat did want to put me in Slytherin. Maybe I should have just let it do its job…
"But seriously, sir, the house is yours. I owe you thanks about a million times over. The number of times you've saved my life! And then attempting to teach me occlumency in fifth year, and furthermore succeeding in sixth. I owe you a lot, Professor. So, Grimmauld Place is yours. But on one condition: you let Hermione in to use the library. Its only fair, Professor."
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Harry on top of the astronomy tower paused. So did the Harry in Dumbledore's office. Coming up were the hardest three. Professor Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione. What was he to say to the person who had helped him through all these years? And what to say to his two oldest friends? How could he justify what he was about to do?
"Well, now, its Dumbledore." Harry fixed his gaze on the man sitting before him, looking every one of his hundred and sixty years. "What to say, sir? You've been always here for me. Always. Every time I was broken, you were there to pick up the pieces. Every time. I owe you more than mere thanks, sir. I owe you a life debt, which I shall not be able to repay now.
"I also owe you an apology," Harry said, rather sheepishly, "for smashing all those things in your office after the ministry of magic. You know, when you told me about the Prophecy, sir? How could you forget?" A small pause. "Professor, I know you feel guilty."
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Albus Dumbledore surveyed Harry thoughtfully, over his fingers. Over the years, Professor Dumbledore had become so skilled at hiding his emotions, that he was almost Slytherin. Well, Harry's not the only one whom the sorting hat was unsure where to put, he mused.
Penseive Harry continued to speak.
"Professor, it is not your fault. The prophecy was made and there was nothing you could do to save me. Nothing at all. And I forgive you for not telling me about the Prophecy earlier, sir. I know you were only trying to give me a childhood. Well, I missed out on that one, anyway.
"Sir, I also give you the power to forgive yourself. It was not your fault. Voldermort wanted me dead and I had to kill him and one of those things will come to pass when dawn breaks, sir. You have done your part and now you can rest.
"I am leaving you the Mauraders Map, sir. It is your school after all. You may do whatever you please with it, sir. Give it to another student or destroy it." Fred and George looked scandalized.
"Whatever you want, sir, the choice is yours. And your time is over, Professor. Let others take your place. They have to be able to live without you, sir. You won't live forever."
Penseive Harry paused.
"Thank you Dumbledore, for giving me a life. I owe everything to you sir, and yet I can repay nothing. For that, I am sorry."Tears were rolling down the bridge of Dumbledore's nose, trickling down his weathered face. Harry's right, he thought. Its time to let others take my place.
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Harry looked away from the cluster of people in front of him, towards the east, where light was beginning to show. Dawn was not far off. And he still had to do the two most important people.
After a lengthy silence, he spoke again. "I think all the members of this room who are still teenagers," he paused once more. "And perhaps some who aren't teenagers, are more interested in the answer to this question, than when I told you what happened with Voldermort.
"The greatest question. Do I still love Hermione?"
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Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, had been waiting. The whole time while Harry spoke, they were waiting for this moment. When he would speak to them. And it had come. Now that the moment had come, Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to be here, at all. But she couldn't not be here, either.
"The answer is, as it always has been, a resounding: yes." Penseive Harry swivelled around, until his gaze was locked with Hermione's. His eyes were filled with pain. His eyes have seen too much, thought Hermione. Eternity was caught within those emerald orbs.
"Look, Hermione, I'm really sorry. I can't help it. You know if I could change it, then I would in an instant. But I can't. You don't get to choose who you fall in love with. Because I am in love with you, 'Mione.
"I'd like to say thank you, for sixth year. For pretending; for me. You never loved me, did you? You shouldn't have done it, 'Mione, because now it hurts even more. I'm sorry because this really can't be easy for you. Because you don't love me back. But I won't pretend any more. I've pretended too much in my life.
Harry's eyes swivelled onto Ron's.
"Ron, I know you love her." Another staggered silence, followed. Ron looked at Harry, willing to see acceptance in his emerald eyes.
"I don't begrudge you for it Ron. Because, although I don't think you know it yet, Hermione loves you back. As long as she is happy then she can have whoever she wants. Ron, I had her in sixth year, but she didn't want me. So, Ron? Once you've got her, don't you ever let her go. It hurts too much.
"Do you know the thing I regret the most? It's being able to see your children grow up in a world without Voldermort, without fear. To see them on the night before they go to Hogwarts, and see your tired worried faces as the Hogwarts Express takes them away. To have their own adventures. I just hope they aren't as dangerous as ours were."
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Harry was crying openly now, new tears tracing the old pathways down his cheeks. The sun was nearly risen. He didn't have much time.
"Ron. Do you know how hard this is? What do I say to my first proper friend? How do I say goodbye? I'm sorry I never told you my plans. God, I'm sorry for everything, Ron. Every time I left you in the dark and put other things before my best mate. You deserved better than me in a friend, so I'm sorry, Ron. 'Mione is all yours now, mate. I'm sorry that I was in your way before. She never loved me. But I can never stop loving her."
Harry's voice cracked and he took a moment to compose himself.
"Ronald Weasley, I leave you the remaining quarter of the money in the Black family vault to do whatever the hell you want with. Spend it wisely, Ron. Well, actually, same as the twins, I'd rather you spend it on a whole bunch of crap that you don't need, but its up to you, of course. I also leave you my Firebolt. Sirius gave it to me and it's been a great broom over the years. Especially after I made captain in sixth year. Hey, Ron? There's still one quidditch match left of the school year and I won't be around for it. If its not cancelled or anything, make sure you win, won't you? Thanks, Ron. For everything."
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Ronald Weasley was sobbing clearly now and he leaned his face into Hermione's shoulder as his tears fell. As he cried, he thought of everything he would have liked to say to his friend at this moment. But he couldn't. He never got to say anything. Harry had made sure of that. He didn't want to tell anyone because that would make it so much harder. Ron understood that now.
"Hermione. It's your turn now. Last, but certainly not least. What do I say? I am so sorry, 'Mione. I wish that I was never in love with you, but I am. I always have been, really. I just never knew what the feelings meant before. As I've already said, thank you for pretending. You shouldn't have done it, but it still meant a lot. You don't have to pretend any longer. No one will. Its better this way, I think.
"Well, this is difficult," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck and going vaguely pink. Hermione merely stared at him. "To Hermione Granger, my best friend, I leave 1000 galleons. How about a nice book?" he said with a private, remembering smile. "Also, you are to have access to Grimmauld Place library whenever you want. Professor Snape will let you, I'm sure.
" But these things aren't really enough to show you my gratitude. Nothing is, 'Mione. You and Ron have been better friends than I could ever have hoped for. I'm not sure I deserve you, really. But by some immense luck, or by powers that I cannot comprehend, I have you. I have both of you. You guys have truly shown me the real meaning of friendship. I would die a thousand times over to give you happiness. But it is still hard. I don't want to die.
"'Mione, Ron. You are meant to be together. You can be now. I can see it your eyes, you love each other more than anything. It's OK. My best friends will finally be happy. What more could I ask for?"
Hermione and Ron looked each other in the eyes. So many feelings were contained within that glance. But, it was OK. Harry said it would be OK. They could be content together. Ron's grasp on Hermione's wrist suddenly became harder. Harry's words echoed in his head. Once you've got her, don't you ever let her go. Ronald Weasley did not intend to.
Harry looked to the side of him, to something they could not see. His face was contorted in anguish.
"Dawn is nearly here now. And I will fulfil the prophecy, one way or another. Thank you everyone. Thank you for giving me a life, giving me friendship, giving me those rare moments of happiness. And thank you for believing in me. I know that you would die for me, as I have to die for the world. I wonder what happened. Are you sitting there in fear, Voldermort's reign still proceeding? Or are you sitting, waiting for me to finish talking, so you can go back to the celebrations? God, I hope it is the latter.
"I don't want a big ceremony, with thousands of people I didn't know and the Daily Prophet giving a blow-by-blow account of the proceedings. All I want is those sitting here, at a muggle graveyard, somewhere near Godric's Hollow. And I want my gravestone to simply say: Harry. That's all I ever wanted to be.
"You're friendship and your trust has meant everything over the years. And not only yours, those who have died: Sirius; Bill; Percy; Hagrid; my parents, although I never knew them; Cho Chang; Luna Lovegood. All those who gave their lives for the good of the world.
"I must go now. My destiny is waiting and I have a prophecy to fulfil."
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Harry pointed his wand at the penseive and murmured the incantation.
"Perfectio."
It was time. The prophecy would be satisfied and he could rest. God, he was tired.
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, started to walk, and each step brought him closer to his destiny.
What will come will come, and we will have to meet it when it does.
The Boy Who Lived was ready to become The Boy Who Died.
It was Prophecy time.OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The silence is Dumbledore's office stretched on, as they stared at where Harry had once stood, each lost in their own thoughts.
Finally Dumbledore rose, the twinkle in his eyes, stifled, but still there. "Well. That's that."
Each occupant rose, astray in their past thoughts. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, would never cease to amaze them. He had never let them down.
For Voldermort was dead
And the Prophecy was indeed fulfilled.
FINAuthor's Note: Well, that's over. Hope you enjoyed. Its not that great, but this is my first fan fic. I'm not going to say 'No flamers!' or anything like that, because that is part of it. You have to be able to take bad comments as well as good. Actually, I'd rather get flamers than no reviews at all. Anyway, the review button is on the left of the screen. Please…? Thanks
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