Hello everybody,

It's really hard to believe that I've finished yet another Fanfiction. I suppose in a way you can thank the quarantine for 'encouraging' me to write more for that, LOL.

Anyway, I hope that you have all enjoyed reading this story and that you are all safe wherever you may be around the world.

You guys are honestly the one true inspiration that has been driving me through this entire process and I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being the amazing readers that you are.

Remember to review to let me know whether I should make another story!

I love you all.

Sword Gold

Disclaimer: For the last time I swear to Merlin that I really don't own Harry Potter, though I've got to admit that I wish that I did ...


Epilogue


I stepped out onto the countryside, the gentle pitter-pattering of rain slowly dying as I took in a shaky breath, clutching the small bouquet of flowers in my hand. Before me, the Khanna Farms stretched out in nothing but endless acres of dense woodland for as far as the eye could see.

I shivered, palms trembling as I recalled one of the last times that I'd been here.

I could picture it now; the smooth mahogany lid of Rowan's coffin glistening almost amber in the morning light as Charlie and the conductor carefully lowered it down from the Knight Bus. I shook my head, trying to ignore the weight in my chest as I began to walk down the same path that I had taken so many years ago, this time, on my own. I looked up, smiling slightly as I caught glimpses of small Bowtruckles swinging from the branches of their towering Wiggentrees almost as if they were dancing as I eventually reached the large Iron Gate.

I sucked in another breath as the gate swung inwards with a metallic clang and out stepped a kind-faced witch.

"Bethany!" she beamed, eyes lighting up as she pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace. "I was so happy when I received an owl that you were coming. It's been positively ages since I last saw you, and my, haven't you grown up to become a beautiful young witch?"

"It's so nice to see you too Mrs Khanna," I smiled, hugging her back just as tightly. "I would've come earlier but …"

"I understand," the witch nodded, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers that I was carrying and understanding immediately flittered through her deep brown eyes as I trailed off.

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs Khanna continued, "Both the boys are off chopping trees, so it'll be just the two of us I'm afraid …"
"I'm afraid I can't stay for long," I apologised ruefully, "After this, I'm off to Albania."

"For curse-breaking business?" Mrs Khanna presumed as she ushered me inside.

"Of sorts," I replied, "The Ministry refuses to acknowledge this, but You-Know-Who has recently returned to full power so …"

Rowan's mother nearly dropped her teapot when I said that.

"I just knew that there was something wrong with the Daily Prophet!" she exclaimed, "Calling Dumbledore 'daft and dangerous' of all things …"

"Really?"

She nodded, handing me the latest copy as she continued to shake her head. "Personally, I've never much listened to the Daily Prophet – especially not with what that Rita Skeeter woman tends to write." She grimaced at the name.

"Huh," I frowned, noticing the by-line, "speaking of which, I would've thought that she'd be the first person to jump to write a scathing article about Dumbledore …"

Mrs Khanna shrugged, "Perhaps she had a day-off?"

"Maybe," I said, though I personally doubted it: Rita Skeeter would rather cut off her hair than let the makings of a juicy story slip through her manicured fingernails.

"I suppose you'll want some time alone outside, wouldn't you?" Mrs Khanna said.

I nodded.


Sunlight filtered through the towering Wiggentrees as I approached the gleaming tombstone and sat cross-legged beside it.

"Hey, Rowan," I managed a smile, "It's been a while, hasn't it? I got you roses, I know they're your favourite …"
I trailed off again, blinking back my tears as I placed the flowers at the head of her grave, struggling to maintain my composure.

"We lost another friend, Cedric. Remember him – the super popular first-year from Hufflepuff? Yeah, well he was murdered by Voldemort, of all people." I shook my head, "Is he there with you now? If so, say hello to him for me."

I bit my lip; tears now running freely down either side of my face as I gulped.

"I miss you," I whispered, voice hitched in my throat as I continued. "I miss everything about you: the way you used to laugh, the way we shared notes under the table in Charms class, heck, even your puns! Merlin, I could do with a few of your puns right about now … I suppose it's not surprising really: you were the one that always seemed to know what to say when it came to things like this." I faltered, my voice shaking now as I felt another tear streak down my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to continue as I ran my fingers along each of the intricate engravings:

Rowan Khanna (1972 – 1990)

A loving friend, sister and daughter

"May she continue to shine as a beacon of hope through the darkness till the very end of days.

"She's looking over you too, you know?"

I looked up to see Mrs Khanna holding out a cup of tea and a napkin, her eyes sparkling with tears as she smiled.

I wiped my face on the corner of my sleeve, brushing dirt off my jeans as I slowly stood up. Silence hung heavy in the air as we looked at one another; both momentarily lost for words.

"You … you really think so?" I stammered eventually.

She nodded, "I don't just think so," she replied, "I know so."


Wasn't that a bittersweet way to end the story? Once again, thank you for all the love and support that you have given me, not only through this story but all of my others, and I really hope that this won't be goodbye.

- S.G.