Deadpool sat on the sofa watching the credits roll on Titanic. After wiping a solitary tear from his masked face, he sighed contentedly and switched off the television. It was only then that he noticed that someone was still reading this story.

"You're still here?" he asked, confused. "It's over. Go home! Oh, you're expecting to know what happened to Wade and Harry after the story ended. Well, they lived happily ever after, of course. Don't look at me like that, we've already established that there are multiple versions of me out there, so the fact that there's two Deadpools in this story shouldn't come as too much of a surprise."

There was a long, awkward pause as the reader expected Deadpool to do something. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Still not had your fill of this story, huh? What did you expect—another chapter? Well, we don't have that kind of time or money. May I remind you that this is fanfiction? You're enjoying free content that the author's put their heart and soul into for no monetary reward, and you want more? Damn, you just wanna milk that cow dry for everything's it worth, don't ya? Not that I can blame you; this story is a veritable classic. I helped to write it, you know. Yeah, I'm trying to move away from acting and get into writing my own stories. I've dabbled in a few genres but I really feel like queer erotica is my forte."

Deadpool twiddled his thumbs and waited patiently for the reader to leave, but they just kept reading, expecting more to happen.

"I don't know what else you want me to tell you—the story's finished. There's nothing else for me to do!" He sighed and crossed his arms. "I will admit that I'm disappointed I never got the chance to shoot Dolores Umbridge. I knew that it was a long shot being able to fit that into the story, but still, I would have loved the chance to wipe that smug smile off of that stupid toad face of hers."

Suddenly, Deadpool gasped and leaped to his feet. "Now there's an idea!" He checked his watch again. "There's still time to do it before the story ends. Those of you who've seen the post-credit scenes in my movies will appreciate this. Come on…" Deadpool drew his pistols out of his holsters and cocked them. "Let's Leeroy Jenkins this epilogue."

Harry sat in the courtroom, nervously picking the arm of his chair as Minister Fudge and the other members of the Wizengamot glared down at him. His future at Hogwarts depended on the success of this hearing. If he were somehow acquitted, then he could go back to school and continue to practice magic. But if he were found guilty…the thought made Harry sick to his stomach.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Under-Secretary to the Minister," said Fudge.

A squat little witch that looked more toad than human spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took Harry aback; he had been expecting a croak.

"I'm sure that I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore," she simpered. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on thi—"

Umbridge's words were cut off mid-sentence by a loud crash. Everyone's heads whipped around to see the courtroom door fly open, and all were surprised to see a masked man in a red leather suit enter with two pistols drawn. Before Fudge or anyone else could protest at the interruption, Deadpool fired off two shots. One struck Fudge in the groin, and he bent over double, groaning in pain. The other hit Umbridge square in the forehead. She looked momentarily surprised as the bullet entered her head and exploded out of the back of her skull, spraying several members of the Wizengamot in red mist. There was a moment of shocked silence and time seemed to stand still for a moment, then Umbridge slumped forward, her face hitting the desk in front of her with a deafening thud.

"Woooooo!" Deadpool cried with glee and danced on the spot. "Man, that felt good! Take that, you evil old hag! The world's a brighter place without you and your hideous cat plates. And screw you, Fudge! The only reason I shot your pecker and not your face is because you're still integral to the plot at this point!"

(Author) Actually, Umbridge is one of the main characters in this book—

"Silence!" Deadpool cried. "Don't mess with my witty comebacks. My logic is infallible."

(Author) But in Book Seven, she has the locket Horcrux—

"Infallible!" Deadpool insisted.

Fudge groaned feebly as several people hurried to his side to provide assistance. As Deadpool turned to leave, he smiled and winked at Harry, who had remained rooted to his chair the entire time, looking terrified.

"Sorry to scare you like that, kid. Believe me, it was for the best." As he headed for the exit, Deadpool nodded to Professor Dumbledore. "Gay Gandalf."

"Mr. Wilson," said Dumbledore brightly, his eyes twinkling with delight at the trail of destruction The Merc with the Mouth had left in his wake.

As Deadpool exited the courtroom, he turned his attention to the reader. "I can't have been the only one to find that satisfying. Now, I know what you're thinking—but Deadpool, won't killing off Umbridge mess with the timeline and create some kind of paradox? Well, if you're familiar with my earlier work, you'll know that doesn't matter. We're doing this purely for entertainment and to sate your more homicidal tendencies. The chapter isn't titled The Unnecessary Epilogue for nothing. If you don't like it, feel free to bail, I won't take it personally. But if you want to continue on this journey into the absurd, what d'ya say we pay a visit to some other well-deserving characters in this universe?"

It was the night that Voldemort's servant was finally revealed after twelve long years of hiding in plain sight. Peter Pettigrew lay quivering on the floor at Harry's feet, relieved beyond belief that James's son had shown him mercy where his friends could not.

"He can go to Azkaban," said Harry, pointing at Pettigrew. "If anyone deserves that place, he does…"

Sirius and Remus looked at one another, staggered at Harry's act of clemency. Still, they lowered their wands.

"Very well," said Remus. "Stand aside Harry. I'm going to tie him up."

That was the moment Deadpool chose to burst into the room. Guns drawn, he shot Pettigrew once in the face and twice in the heart for good measure, popping off another shot in the crotch just for the hell of it. Sirius and Remus pointed their wands at Deadpool in alarm, but he holstered his guns and held his hands up.

"Whoa, mind where you're pointing those! They can be dangerous!"

Sirius prodded Pettigrew's lifeless body with the tip of his toe. "Bloody hell, he's dead!"

"What have you done?" Remus cried.

"I just did you a favour," said Deadpool. "That little shit would have turned back into a rat and scurried back to Voldie if I hadn't intervened. Dead or alive, you now have proof of Sirius's innocence, so it's a win-win." He turned to leave and then he paused. "Oh! And another thing—Remus, you forgot to take your potion tonight. So you better stay here for the night so that you don't get all hungry like the wolf on the kids."

What little colour Remus held in his face drained. "Oh my god, he's right. I was in such a hurry to get here that I forgot to take my Wolfsbane potion."

"You're welcome!" Deadpool cried as he skipped out of the Shrieking Shack.

Professor Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd spent the entire evening marking first-year students' homework and not a single one of them showed an aptitude for Potions. Pulling another submission towards him, Snape's eyes narrowed when he recognized Harry Potter's chicken scratch handwriting. He only gave it a cursory glance over before dabbing his quill in ink and drawing a large F on the paper.

Knock knock.

Snape looked up from his work and frowned—who was interrupting him at this hour? Sliding out from behind his desk, he glided towards the office door. He half-hoped that it was a student just so that he could have an excuse to give them detention. As he pulled down the handle, whoever was behind the door kicked it hard, causing the door to swing back and hit Snape on the nose. Pain exploded across his face and stars danced across his vision as he stumbled backwards onto his backside. The assailant entered the room and loomed over Snape.

"Mind if I come in?" asked Deadpool. Snape snarled and drew his wand, but Deadpool moved with surprising speed; he grabbed Snape's wrist in a vice-like grip, pulled the wand from Snape's fingers and tossed it over his shoulder. "Yoink! You won't be needing that."

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape cried.

Deadpool grabbed the front of Snape's robes and lifted him back onto his feet, then walked him backwards until the bottom of his back hit the edge of his desk.

"I just want to talk," he said innocently. "Don't look so worried! I'm not going to kill you." Snape tried to pull away, but Deadpool kneed him in the stomach, winding him. While Snape wheezed and coughed, Deadpool continued, "I will, however, hurt you if I need to. Understood?"

Snape nodded vigorously. Deadpool tightened his grip on his robes. "Now you listen to me, and you listen closely: you might be one of the most beloved anti-heroes of all time, but that doesn't excuse you from bullying school children. We get it—getting friendzoned is tough. But that doesn't give you licence to harass Lily Potter's son. So she didn't want to bone you—big deal! You don't see the rest of us joining death cults because we've got blue balls!"

Deadpool bowed his head and took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking again. "All I'm asking is that you treat Harry like a human being. Consider it a favour to me."

"Who are you?" asked Snape.

"I'm your worst nightmare if you don't smarten up that attitude of yours," he warned. "Because if you don't, I'll come back. And I don't care if you're integral to the plot of this story, if I hear that you've been up to your old tricks, I'll put my foot so far up your ass, every time you brush your teeth, you'll be shining my shoes! Got it?"

Snape nodded and stammered, "G-got it."

Deadpool loosened his grip on Snape's robes and grinned. "Glad that we could come to an understanding! Honestly, I'm relieved that I didn't have to kill you, I'm actually a big fan of your work. I know most people would expect me to say my favourite movie of yours is Die Hard, but…" Deadpool leaned in closer and whispered, "Between you and me, your performance as Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is by far your best work."

Deadpool patted Snape heartily on the shoulder and turned to leave, then he paused. "Oh, and the same thing goes for Neville Longbottom. That kid's got enough on his plate without having to deal with your shit. So, remember—if I get one inkling that you're harassing those kids, I'll kill ya!"

Deadpool turned on his heel and skipped out of the office, whistling to himself. Shaking like a leaf, Snape had to cling to his desk for support in order to get back to his seat. Collapsing into his chair, he glanced down at Harry Potter's homework. With a tremendous amount of effort, Snape picked up his discarded quill and scored out the F on Harry's paper and changed the grade to a D-.

James Potter watched from the door as Lily played with Harry on the living room floor. They'd been locked away for months now, and it was really beginning to do a number on the two of them: they missed their friends, their jobs—their lives. Even in deceptively normal moments like this, a mother playing with her child, the undercurrent of fear remained. What if today was the day that Voldemort would find them?

James flinched when he heard a polite knock at the door. Lily had frozen too, her eyes wide with fright. "Jamie…"

James grabbed his wand. "Go upstairs with Harry. I'll check it out."

"But what if it's him?"

"If it's him, I'll distract him long enough for you and Harry to get out of here. Go!"

Lily scooped Harry into her arms and hurried for the stairs. James waited until he heard the bedroom door to the nursery slam shut before he approached the front door, ready for whatever fate awaited him. Ignoring the pounding of his heart in his ears, James opened the door a few inches and peered outside into the cold, blustery night, and frowned. On his doorstep was a man that he had never seen before in his life.

"James Potter?" asked the masked man.

"Yes?" he replied cautiously. "Who are you?"

"Name's Deadpool," said the man. "Don't worry, I'm a friend. I just wanted to let you know that I took care of Voldemort for you."

James blinked. "W-what?

"That dude that's been giving your family trouble? I took care of him," he repeated, pointing at something a short distance away.

James looked over Deadpool's shoulder and his mouth fell open when he saw a decapitated body lying on the ground just beyond the boundary of the cottage. It had several weapons sticking out of it at various angles but they were most certainly dead. Without the head, it was difficult to tell who it was, but if the wand that lay discarded on the ground was any indication, then this was indeed Voldemort. James opened the door wider and stepped out onto the path to take a closer look.

"Merlin," he breathed. "It really is him, isn't it?"

"Yup, he was mighty pissed when I turned up and told him I'd destroyed his Horcruxes."

"His what?"

"Doesn't matter, you're better speaking to Dumbledore about that. Sorry about the mess, but Mr. Spooky was surprisingly difficult to kill. I tried shooting him a few times but that dude was like the goddamn Terminator, he just kept getting back up! I had to take his head clean off before he eventually stopped." Deadpool held up the head as evidence of what he had done and James recoiled in horror as Voldemort's face stared lifelessly up at him.

"Oh my god!"

"I've been sitting out here all day freezing my ass off waiting for him to turn up," Deadpool grumbled, punting the head over the hedge out of sight. "I should have known he'd turn up just before midnight. Villains work embarrassingly predictable hours."

"James, what's happening down there?" Lily cried.

"Nothing!" James replied. "I mean. Just—stay where you are! I'll be up in a minute."

Deadpool nodded approvingly. "Good call. You don't want the baby to see a headless dude in your garden—that sort of thing can traumatize a child."

"I...I don't know what to say," said James weakly. "Thank you, I suppose?"

Deadpool waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, don't mention it. I was happy to help. Honestly, it's been fun taking out all of the bad guys again, I've kinda missed it. I took care of a few other bad guys for you before I came around here: the Lestranges, Barty Crouch Jr., Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy...I also paid a visit to the Dursleys. Don't worry, I didn't kill them, just slightly maimed them."

James looked flabbergasted at Deadpool's admission, but he cleared his throat and asked, "Well, in that case, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

Deadpool yawned and shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm kinda tired now. Killing people really takes it out of you. I think I'll just go home and have a nap. Maybe do a bit of scrapbooking, that always helps me to relax."

Deadpool waved goodbye to James and turned to face the reader again. "I am pretty beat...but think I've got just enough energy to pay one more person a visit…"

J.K. Rowling sat at her office desk scrolling through her Twitter feed. She'd already shared her unsolicited views on trans rights, what inane facts could she share about the Wizarding world today? Her thumb hovered over the screen of her cell phone as she thought for a moment, then she started typing:

Neville Longbottom is a top and leads Hufflepuff group masturbation sessions.

No, that wasn't radical enough. She deleted the message and started typing again:

Harry's Firebolt is bi-curious.

She read the tweet again and smiled approvingly. Yes, that'll do nicely. Before she could hit send, she heard an audible click. Incidentally, that was the last thing she ever heard.

Bang.

As the bullet from Deadpool's gun exited J.K.'s skull, her cell phone slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground, never to darken the fandom's newsfeeds again. Deadpool sighed and lowered his gun.

"I'm gonna be honest, that was a tough one," he admitted. "But it was my moral duty to protect the Harry Potter legacy, even if it was from its creator. Plus, I just can't abide transphobia—and neither should you. Yeah, there are moral lessons to be learned from this story too! But man, hasn't it been a rollercoaster ride of emotions? There's been love, laughter, and violence—it even had lube! And most importantly, no cows! Not a single one. And for that, I am eternally grateful."

Deadpool holstered his pistols and bid a fond farewell to the reader. "We're dragging out the inevitable here, and I'm not very good at goodbyes so...I guess I'll see you around! Thanks for taking the time to read my story. And remember [insert words of wisdom here]."

Deadpool looked up at Author. "Seriously? You couldn't think of anything to put in there?"

(Author) Sorry, I ran out of steam.

"You couldn't let me go out on a high note, could you?" he grumbled. In an anticlimactic finale, Deadpool walked out of frame for the last time, finally bringing this tale to an end.

THE END