Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any claim to own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters. The Harry Potter universe is the property of Joanne Rowling, also known as "J. K. Rowling," "JKR," and "That Lady Who Wrote Harry Potter." The Harry Potter universe is licensed with Warner Brothers Studios and Bloomsbury Publishing. I do not make any profit off of Harry Potter, because if I did then these kind people I have named above would hunt me down and throw me in Azkaban for 12 years or life. That is all.
Too Much, Too Late
Chapter 2
"SERIOUSLY?!"
Harry Potter was angry. In fact, he had probably never been more angry in his entire (admittedly very frustrating) life. Here he was, with a host of new abilities, untold wealth, limitless political power, and a smoking hot new wife/girlfriend/thingy. Under normal circumstances, this would be a reason to be happy, or even a bit arrogant. Unfortunately, Harry had very little experience with normal circumstances. (There was that one Tuesday during fifth year – one of Harry's fondest memories – when absolutely nothing unusual occurred.) With the most feared dark wizard in the world lying dead at his feet, these were definitely abnormal circumstances (which, of course was normal to Harry, what with him being so acquainted with abnormality. Oh, bugger it.).
Regardless of whether the current circumstances were classed as normal or abnormal, the fact remained that Harry Potter was angry. Sure, all the new power was nice, but couldn't it have come just a LITTLE BIT SOONER? Like back in fourth year, when Voldemort was weak and everyone was still alive? Why was the universe being so helpful now, when he really didn't need it all that much? As the echoes of his shout reverberated around the Great Hall, Harry focused on the most immediate issue: Death itself.
"First, can you bring anyone back to life?" Harry asked the specter kneeling in front of him.
"I can, master, but I must have some piece of their personality in the physical world if they are to remain as more than a specter. Your parents would never be whole here," came the raspy reply.
Harry had seen the specters of his parents, Sirius, and Remus, and knew that bringing them back in that form would only cause misery for everyone. As he began to sink into despair at that thought, Hermione spoke up from his side.
"Harry! We can bring back Dumbledore! His portrait in the Headmaster's office certainly holds a piece of his personality!" Her eyes narrowed. "You could even bring back Snape, if you really wanted to, Harry."
Harry grinned and said, "That's a brilliant idea, Hermione! Now I won't have to name one of our children after them, since they'll still be alive!"
"EXCUSE ME? You were planning on naming–" Hermione cut herself off as she looked around at all the wizards and witches in the Great Hall, staring at them with wide eyes. Molly Weasley appeared to have fainted, and her entire family was surrounding her in concern. "Perhaps we should move this discussion to the Headmaster's office, Harry? It seems a bit crowded in here."
Harry gulped and quickly agreed.
Once sequestered in the Headmaster's office, Harry immediately turned to Death. "I would like you to bring back Headmasters Dumbledore and Snape, please."
"As you command, my master." With that, Death waved his scythe in a complicated motion, causing twin bursts of smoke and light to erupt from the ground. When Harry and Hermione had finished blinking, Death had disappeared, with two very confused, very naked men in his place.
As Hermione shrieked and preformed her best tomato impression, Dumbledore calmly asked Harry, "I assume you have something to do with this, my boy? I had just boarded the train for the next great adventure when I felt the most curious sensation, not unlike a portkey. The next thing I knew, I was here. Oh, dear, something seems to be wrong with Miss Granger. Perhaps she has been poisoned! Severus, do you have any bezoars handy?"
Snape sneered. "Even if I did, Albus, I wouldn't give one to her. I assume that the Dark Lord is dead, or Potter wouldn't be standing here. If that is true, then you have no further hold on me. Potter, I hope you die alone and unloved." With that, the still-sneering man turned and swept down the staircase. If he had actually been wearing robes at the time, they undoubtedly would have billowed behind him in a most impressive manner. As he was still entirely nude, the effect was ruined somewhat. The other three stood in stunned silence while the sneer master left their presence. Approximately twenty seconds later, they heard a shrill scream, followed quickly by a burst of spellfire and the sound of retching.
His face slightly green, Harry shook himself from his stupor and said, "Headmaster? Could you, um, maybe conjure up a robe or, uh, something? Please? I don't think I can handle this much longer."
"Oh, certainly, my dear boy. My apologies." With that, Dumbledore wandlessly conjured a set of fuchsia robes and mercifully covered himself. Hermione began to gradually return to a more natural color.
While she was recovering, Dumbledore seamlessly slipped behind his desk and began to scheme. First, I need to dose them with my potion-laced lemon drops. Then I can use Miss Granger to control Harry and rule the wizarding world! He looked up at the pair and turned his eye-twinkling up to maximum. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"
Just then, the four Hogwarts House Ghosts drifted up through the floor. "Wait, Lord Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-Merlin-Morgana-Medea! It's a trap! Those lemon drops are poisoned, and the dastardly Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore has been manipulating you the entire time!" Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was rather fond of large names.
Hermione looked at the former Headmaster in consternation. "Is this true, sir? Have you meant for all this to happen?"
Dumbledore glared at the ghosts and snapped his reply, "Of course, you foolish girl! Harry's entire life has been orchestrated by me, and now it is time to end it once and for all!" Quick as a flash, Dumbledore reached for his wand, only to discover that Harry was aiming it at his face.
"Looking for this, Dumbledork?" he spat. Hey, I quite like that name. I'm really clever to come up with something like that all on my own!
"Now, Harry, there is no need for violence. I only did the things I did for the Greater – urk!"
Stunned, Hermione stared at the Bloody Baron cleaning his axe. "Oh, I'm so glad that a Founders' Heir is here again and we can finally interact with the physical world. I've wanted to do that for decades. Hey, Nick, looks like there may be another ghost joining the Headless Hunt without you!" the grim ghost muttered.
Now thoroughly green, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her towards the moving staircase.
As they exited into the hallway, Harry and Hermione found themselves faced with a rather peculiar situation. No fewer than seventeen young ladies flinched and pointed their wands at them, before quickly sighing in relief as they relaxed their defenses. Susan Bones smiled shakily at them as she said, "Sorry guys, but we are all a little on edge right now. Not five minutes ago, Professor Snape came sneering down that staircase – TOTALLY NAKED. Naturally, we assumed that our collective virtues were in danger, and… dealt with the situation."
"She means that Snape is now that slightly darker spot on the wall behind you!" Katie Bell put in helpfully.
Harry glanced back at the greasy bit of wall. Is that wall sneering at me? How is that even possible? Shrugging it off, he turned back to the girls. "Er, great job with that, ladies, but why exactly are you here right now? Shouldn't you all be with your families?"
Instantly the atmosphere of the hallway became almost… sultry. Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Padma Patil, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Cho Chang, Mandy Brocklehurst, Su Li, Lisa Turpin, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Megan Jones, Millicent Bulstrode (shudder), Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass all suddenly began to chew their lip seductively, bat their eyelashes, or find a need to bend over at the waist to tie their shoes. "Well, you see, Harry, you might be able to help with that family thing. If you agree, some of us might be with our family right this instant," Daphne purred.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "And what, exactly, do you mean by that, Miss Greengrass?"
"Why, Lady Potter, nothing untoward, I assure you. It simply seems that Lord Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-Merlin-Morgana-Medea here has nine families that he needs to produce an heir for. You have the Potter slot, of course, but Harry here has room for eight more wives if he so chooses. We all want to make our candidacy known."
"And why would I agree to that?" Hermione screeched.
Lavender took this one. "But Hermione, multiple marriages are common in the wizarding world, despite the fact that they have never even been slightly hinted at through all seven years of your education. Naturally, we assumed that you would accept this relatively easily. Maybe you are secretly a bisexual, I don't know. Regardless, there is no reason at all why your middle class heritage and the culture you were raised in should hold you back from this. Besides, don't you want Harry to be happy? What could make a teenaged boy happier than nine women in his bed? Now come, darling, let us all go and make sweet love until we lose consciousness."
Harry's green pallor had returned full force. Nine women? No way! Think of the stress! There is no way I could satisfy nine women at once! Besides, he gulped, it would pretty much guarantee that at least one of them would be on 'that time of the month' ALL THE TIME. That last thought made his decision quite clear. Harry grabbed a still-spluttering Hermione by the hand and ran frantically back to the relative safety of the Great Hall. As he ran he called over his shoulder to the bewildered group of girls, "Thanks, but no thanks! I'm happy as I am!"
The newly minted Man-Who-Won skidded in to the Great Hall with his soul mate and slammed the massive doors behind them. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, though, he caught sight of what appeared to be a small natural disaster heading his way. In reality, it was an irate Ron, Ginny, and Molly Weasley, but his confusion is quite understandable.
"HARRY POTTER! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK –" Molly's rant was quickly cut off by a silencing spell from her husband.
"Look, Harry," Arthur sighed, "let's just assume that she disagrees with something you have done in the past hour, and informed you of her opinion many times at high volume. Shall we?"
"That works for me, Mr. Weasley. I'll consider myself duly chastened." Harry nodded solemnly.
"Very good. Come on, Mollywobbles, let's go take care of Ginny. George and Bill seem to have stunned her." With that, the poor man led his red-faced wife over to another corner of the room.
This left the Golden Trio alone. Hermione looked questioningly from Ron to Harry and back again, but the two boys seemed to be in some sort of staring contest waiting to see who would break first. The brightest witch of her age sighed and settled in to wait them out. Exactly thirteen seconds later (patience wasn't his strong suit), Ron burst.
"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing, mate?! I mean, bloody hell, you could have had any girl in the world, but you had to bloody go and bloody take Hermione! Bloody hell! You always get everything I want. Fame? Check, bloody hell. Money? Check. Quidditch? Check, bloody hell. Women? Check. Bloody hell, mate, all I wanted was Hermione! Bloody hell." His ire spent, Ron sagged into himself.
Hermione took it upon herself to transfix Ron with one of her special Category Five Looks (patent pending). "Ronald Bilius Weasley! First of all, your language is horrific. I don't think I've ever heard you say 'bloody hell' that much through our whole time at Hogwarts. Second, you seem to have forgotten that Harry would gladly trade all his fame, fortune, fans, and Quidditch for a chance to have his family back. Besides, I am not some trophy to be won! I can make my own decisions about who I want to be with, thank you very much."
Harry muttered under his breath, "Well, maybe not the Quidditch, but he can have everything else."
Hermione shot him a glare that made the Man-Who-Won, Saviour of the Wizarding World, and Defeater of Voldemort quail instantly.
"Regardless," she said as she turned back to a gaping Ron, "if that is your attitude, then perhaps we don't need your friendship anymore. Come on, Harry, we are leaving." With that, Lord and Lady Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-Merlin-Morgana-Medea left the Great Hall. Five years later, they left the Wizarding World for good.
Epilogue: approximately 5,000 years later.
Harry Potter was feeling good. He and his lovely wife had just been visited by one of their descendants, a very polite young man who had just been elected Emporer of the 2nd New Roman Empire. As he watched the whippersnapper climb down their mountain, Harry reflected back on his life. For a few years after he defeated Voldemort, he and Hermione had traveled the world, living off of his infinity galleons. Eventually, they (Hermione) had gotten bored with this and started looking for a new challenge. Harry had started crafting spells. Hermione had taken up alchemy. Twenty five years after that, Hermione had finally created a Philosopher's Stone. Unfortunately, the Stone was keyed to its creator and her spouse, so they could not share the Elixir of Life with any of their several children and dozens of grandchildren. Although this was terribly sad at first, it soon became a good thing. By the time the Potter family had reached its sixth generation under Harry, he and Hermione had hundreds of grandchildren (which they called all of their descendants, since it saved them from listing out all that 'great-great-great' nonsense). The pair lived for thousands of years, learning, growing, and watching their family make its mark on the world. The scar had not pained Harry for four thousand, nine hundred, and seventy three years. All was well.
A/N: I intended to leave this as a oneshot, but then I got several reviews within half an hour of posting asking me to continue. Since I've never actually gotten any reviews before, I got excited and wrote this. I made myself wait a couple of days and look over it before posting, so it is a bit more polished than it might have been.
A/N2: I tried to write a scene with Luna, but I found I couldn't! Luna is too wonderfully wacky to write a parody of. Anything I wrote, no matter how ridiculous, fit my mental image of Luna. Gosh, I love that character so much.
A/N3: For whatever reason, my section dividers did not appear with the first posting. I have fixed that problem, so hopefully this chapter wasn't quite as choppy.