(Fall Term) Seventh Year
Everything has changed. The Second Wizarding War has definitely left its mark upon these hallowed halls. Hogwarts has been rebuilt and restored to its former glory over the summer. The familiar stone walls aren't as dingy and grey as I remember but they are as safe as ever and feel like home. Thank Merlin the Quidditch Pitch wasn't impacted at all during the War. It was torture last year to not be able to play Quidditch during Snape's reign as Headmaster.
Professor McGonagall is actually the Headmistress now. She is as stern and pragmatic as ever but there is no doubt that she will amount to be as great of a leader Professor Dumbledore was. She still conducts the Sorting, and currently she is calling forth this year's First Years to line up and place the Sorting Hat upon their anxious and trembling heads. There is a smaller group of First Years since some parents (cough, Slytherin) question the security of Hogwarts at the moment. The cluster that is present, though, looks like they will be a fairly decent group.
"Cygnet, Isabella!" Headmistress McGonagall calls out.
A small, doe-eyed girl with long wavy mahogany hair steps forward, biting her lip. A boy – who closely resembles the late Cedric Diggory – nudges her arm in quiet support. She gives him a winning smile and then proceeds a bit more confidently over to the Sorting Hat. Before she gets the stool, however, she promptly trips and falls flat on her face. She lies face down on the ground in complete mortification for a few seconds while everyone sitting in the Great Hall looks on in wide-eyed silence. Isabella eventually stands up and then quickly shoves the Sorting Hat upon her head; her face is flushed a bright red.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat roars.
Isabella smiles sheepishly, the flames on her face not fading one bit with all the attention of everybody's eyes trained on her as we all wait with bated breath to see if she'll trip and fall on her way over to Gryffindor table. When she approaches our table unscathed, we all applaud.
"Welcome!" Dean greets her. "It's nice to meet you, Isabella."
"Bella," she corrects him shyly.
Hermione scoots over on my left and makes room for Bella on the bench. "Hi, Bella. Where are you from?"
Bella sits down between Hermione and me but her eyes are trained on the Sorting of her friend whose name has just been called.
"Diggory, Edward!"
The Hat takes no time at all to proclaim his House. "HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat yells and sends Cedric Diggory's little brother to Cedric's alumni House. The Hufflepuffs go wild with happiness to have Cedric's sibling amongst their midst.
The boy, Edward, dips his head in acknowledgement to his new House but comes bounding over to Gryffindor table. He stops and whispers to Bella apologetically. She waves him off with a smile of congratulations although her eyes are sad. Edward retreats while running his hand through his bronze hair in an unsure fashion, but then grins crookedly and turns to meet his new House.
"We can still be friends, right?" Bella asks in a murmur, her eyes never leaving her friend's profile.
I hesitate, uncertain if she is asking a rhetorical question. "Of course you can still be friends," I reply when she turns and looks at me with those large brown eyes.
"Good," Bella says. "Edward's my Batman, you know. It's not because of his vampire heritage – he's only one-eighteenth part vampire."
"Oh?" I say interestedly as Headmistress McGonagall conducts the rest of the Sorting.
Bella smiles over at her friend who has looked over at the Gryffindor table and sought out Bella's gaze with his sea green eyes. "I wonder why he isn't in Gryffindor," she muses, half to herself. "He closely resembles a mountain lion."
I meet Hermione's gaze over the top of Bella's head. We share a knowing smile as we listen to Bella's ramblings. Even though Professor Dumbledore is gone, he has sure left a legacy upon Hogwarts. During the Start-of-Term Feast, Hermione and I witness several displays of inter-house unity and mingling similar to the bond between the young Bella and Edward.
It's a perfect beginning to a life of light after the world of darkness we all experienced during the control of Lord Voldemort.
.
.
"She's a sweetheart, isn't she," Hermione coos to me about Bella while we change into our pyjamas and set up a film to watch tonight in Hermione's Muggle contraption she calls a 'telly'.
All of the Seventh Year Gryffindor girls nod their heads in agreement as we gather in our dorm to watch Hermione's telly that is showing some film named Twilight. Apparently it is some big commodity in the Muggle world. It looks like a load of bullshit to me. Muggles have a different, fantasised concept concerning vampires that is completely irrelevant to the vampires that exist in the magical world.
"Bella's kind of shy but sweet," comments Leah Lupin, Professor Lupin's niece who had transferred over from Beauxbatons for this school year.
"Very open-hearted and accepting," Emily Black states. She is a Pureblood Black outcast like Sirius ever since she was Sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. "And supermodel pretty."
"She should be!" Lavender Brown squeals. Her marred face, courtesy of Fenrir Greyback during the Battle of Hogwarts, twists in jealousy as she says: "Her skin is flawless!"
Technically Lavender was supposed to graduate last year, but she decided to come back to Hogwarts and repeat her Seventh Year along with those few who dropped out last year during the War (like you, Hermione, and Ron) and need to finish their studies to graduate from Hogwarts with full credentials. Hermione, Lavender, Hannah Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Seamus Finnigan, Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Dean Thomas, and Anthony Goldstein are all people in your year that returned to Hogwarts and melded into the Seventh Year class that includes me and Luna. You and Ron were offered Auror positions after your achievements during the War. You two accepted the job offers and did not return to Hogwarts like Hermione did. Your reasoning was that Hogwarts prepares students for jobs, and since you already had a job, you did not need Hogwarts anymore. Since when did you become too cool for school, Mr Potter?
"She told me she's of Italian descent," I inform the Seventh Years as we watch the vampire on-screen bounce an apple off his shoe and give it to the awkward new girl who has a habit of rolling her eyes every ten seconds. Nothing about this film is interesting. I have absolutely no idea what that damn bouncing apple has to do with anything about the plot in the film.
"'Bella' means 'beautiful' in Italian," Hermione translates.
Lavender sighs wistfully. "Lucky bitch."
Leah laughs. "Are you honestly jealous of a First Year?"
"Beautiful people hang out with beautiful people," Lavender whines. "Of course I'm jealous. She snagged Edward Diggory!"
"Who's also a First Year," Emily snorts.
"Girl, he's hawt."
"And he's eleven years old. Way too young and innocent to be corrupted by your filthy mind, you cougar," Leah smirks.
Lavender sticks her tongue out at Leah and throws a pillow at her. Lavender, who was never on the Quidditch team and has poor hand-eye coordination, misses Leah and the pillow bounces off of Hermione's hair.
"Hey!" Hermione exclaims, and suddenly the film is forgotten as we indulge ourselves in a juvenile game of pillow fighting on our first night back at Hogwarts.
.
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On October 31st, your new owl that Hagrid gave to you after the War, Safari, came soaring into the Great Hall during breakfast. Her tawny gold appearance creates quite a stir since everyone knows she is associated with you. She isn't properly trained, though, and flies for a few minutes in large, swooping circles overhead as we all look up at her and wonder who she's going to deliver mail to.
"Come back down!" I call to Safari.
She lets out a hoot of acknowledgement at the sound of my voice and plummets down gracefully to my spot at Gryffindor table. Safari graces me with a parcel of paper and a sunflower that you have Charmed to stay fresh. She lets out another throaty hoot before flying up in a dizzying spiral and disappearing back to your flat in Muggle London.
"What'd you get?" Bella asks excitedly. I seem to be the only one who has received mail today (besides the people who paid for The Daily Prophet which no one really wants to read anymore these days after the whole hush-hush policy employed in the War) so everyone's eyes are on me as they all wait for me to read whatever The Golden Boy has written.
I bite my lip as I look over what you have sent. It seems to be a small piece of parchment and the sunflower – that's all. I slowly open the parchment and read your spiky handwriting:
[-]
Gin-
Hey, you. Miss you bunches, love. I want to see you today - would you do the immense honour of accompanying me to my parents' graves this evening? Professor McGonagall deemed you free to come via Side-Along-Apparation as long as you finish all of your studies for the day. Come meet me at Hagrid's hut at sundown.
Wear something warm. West Country of England has been notably chilly lately.
Yours, Harry
PS: Tell Hermione I said hi. But I want you to remember that all my love is for you and only you, Ginny.
[-]
I draw in a ragged breath after reading what you have written. There is so much emotion in this tiny, little note. I haven't forgotten that today is the anniversary of your parents' death – there is absolutely no way in Merlin that I would refuse to come along and visit your parents' graves when I know you are hurting today. And you are so thoughtful for thinking ahead and clearing my absence with Headmistress McGonagall.
And all of that love, Superman. After the War we never officially declared ourselves in a relationship again but all my doubts have now vanished about our relationship status. Not that I really doubted you, anyways.
I love you, Harry. I always have and always will.
.
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As soon as I see the light recede from day, I fly out of the castle and hurry my way down to Hagrid's hut. I already see you waiting patiently with your hands in your pockets and I cannot help myself but sprint the last few metres into your waiting arms.
"Harry!" I scream ecstatically. I jump into your arms and wrap my legs around your waist before kissing you soundly on the lips.
"Hey," you smile breathlessly in between kisses. We've snogged for a solid ten minutes with minor breaks for air, but I swear, I am never letting you go. "Oh, Gin," you groan in pleasure and kiss me harder and faster.
"I've missed you," I murmur and kiss your jaw where some delicious stubble is growing. "So. Damn. Much." I lick the shell of your ear hungrily and nibble on your earlobe.
"I missed you more," you profess with a contented smile. You are so adorably romantic, and I appreciate the sincere amount of honesty lacing your words. "Drop out of Hogwarts."
I laugh, knowing that you're teasing and being insensible. "Can't. I'm so close to getting a contract with the Holyhead Harpies this Quidditch season."
"Is that what you're going to do with your life? Play Quidditch all the time?" you ask curiously.
"Mm," I shrug because you are thoroughly distracting me with those lips of yours that are currently on my collarbone. "That's the plan so far."
"That is awesome," you proclaim. "I've always wanted to marry a professional Quidditch player."
I laugh again at your silly antics. "Last I checked, it was Ron – not you – who was kissing Krum's ass at the Quidditch World Cup."
You draw your eyebrows together in a serious expression and open your mouth as if to say something but then you close it, obviously changing your mind. "Come on, hop on down so we can Apparate over to Godric's Hollow before it gets too dark. It's Halloween, you know. Who knows what sorts of pranks the youngsters will be setting up in the graveyard at night?"
I shudder. I am never one for pranks after being subjected to so many of them by my impish brothers. "Alright. Let's go."
.
.
"When's your next Quidditch game?" you ask as we crunch softly through the fallen leaves in the graveyard. The sunlight is casting this sort of magical golden filter over the world and is making you look like an angel fallen down from the heavens, what with your ever-present aura of confidence and the pureness of your emotions reflected all over your face. The shadows of the tree branches and leaves cast a silhouette of wing-shaped shadows behind you, adding to the image.
"Tomorrow," I say. I look at you with an arched eyebrow. "Will you come?"
"Of course," you respond and bring up our linked hands to kiss the juncture where our thumbs are overlapping. "Wouldn't miss you kick Slytherin's ass for the world."
I roll my eyes playfully. "That better not be the only reason for you coming to the match."
You lean over and kiss me on the lips sweetly. "No, love. You're the only reason."
My heart flutters at your proclamation. I bite my lip to stop the growing smile on my face, but judging from the smirk gracing yours, I know you can see my smile. You start to slow down your walking pace, though, and soon we have come to a halt in front of the graves of Lily and James Potter.
"Hi Mum, Dad," you say softly. It sounds rather intimate and I do not want to intrude so I start to pull away. Your grip on my wrist tightens, though, and I raise my eyebrows questioningly. "Stay," you mouth to me. I nod my head and hold your hand loosely, offering you moral support while you talk to your parents.
"Thanks for coming for me in my time of need those three times when I fought Riddle: at Godric's Hollow, in the graveyard after the Triwizard Tournament, and in the Forbidden Forest," you say gratefully. "I owe you two my life. Dad, thank you for your reputation and the legacy you have left behind. It's been hell trying to measure up to someone as great as you were and I only wish that you were here to help me fill your shoes. Mum, thank you for sacrificing yourself for me even though Voldemort would have spared you upon Snape's request. He loved you, you know –Snape, that is. I find that really nasty, but hey, Dumbledore's philosophy was rather like the Beatles' "All you need is love" and all that hippie shit, and Snape believed in Dumbledore. Just like I did and you did and Dad did.
"Ginny's here with me," you say, your voice barely audible. "She's beautiful like you, Mum. She has red hair and a fiery temperament. And she's absolutely perfectly imperfect. Dad, how did you know you wanted to spend your whole life when Mum? Was it when she annoyed you senseless but you wanted to kiss her breathless? Was it when she smiled at you and it felt like the world spun just because she was alive and happy? Was it when you envisioned the future with little mini-me Potters running around that called you and her 'Daddy and Mummy'?"
Upon hearing this I gasp in surprise. It feels so wrong to be hearing you utter your utmost private thoughts to your parents, yet your hand is still wrapped up in mine, holding me in place. When you hear my intake in breath, you glance over at me with a peaceful smile on your face and give my hand a gentle, loving squeeze.
"When was the first time you told Mum 'I love you'? Because I truly and honestly love Ginny. I've told her those three words before, but I've also broken her heart countless of times. I want to be able to tell her it and have her believe me that I mean it for forever and always. I want her to trust me and love me and grow old with me.
"Ginny's my best friend. I know that I mention Ron and Hermione to you guys more often than not, but Ginny's the one who has always believed in me. She's the one who thinks I am infallible and can do anything if I put my mind to it. And because of this, I do not feel worthy enough for her. She's just so perfect and I'm me. She is an angel and pure and deserves someone so much better than me. I don't want her to be stuck forever with someone as corrupted as me – I mean, I was part Voldemort for seventeen years of my life!" At this point in time, I think you have forgotten that I am here and can hear you. I nibble at the inside of my cheek and continue listening to you pour your heart and soul out to your parents.
"But at the same time I am so jealous and possessive about her," you murmur, your thumb absent-mindedly stroking the back of my hand. "I can't stand it when another guy tries to take her away from me. I can't handle it when another bloke tries to capture her beauty for himself. I just want her to be mine.
"Dad, she says she wants to become a pro-Quidditch player. I wanted to marry her on the spot when she said that. She's exactly my dream girl and everything I have ever wanted. I only wish that I knew how to be her dream bloke.
"I work at the Ministry now. It's alright; rather dull, if you ask me. Kingsley Shacklebolt is the new Minister. He's absolutely the best you could ever ask for. Save Dumbledore, of course. Ron is an Auror with me. There's nothing dramatic going on in the Wizarding world now that Riddle is dead. However, there is always the danger of his Death Eaters regrouping and threatening the magical world once again. That is the main reason I became an Auror: to protect the ones I loved from hazards such as Riddle and his doppelgangers. I want the world to be perfect for Ginny and our future children." You reach down and place a bouquet and wreath of flowers and candles on their graves. "I love you and miss you every day. Happy Halloween."
Then you squeeze my hand and Apparate us out of the graveyard in Godric's Hallow just as the last drop of golden sunlight falls from the skies into the dark, gaping mouth of the night.
