Chapter Eight: Epilogue
Another Year
"Do you think this year will be like last year?" he asked.
She looked at him for a long moment as they sat next to each other on the divan in Rowan Hill's parlour. "I think it will be better," she replied with conviction.
He considered her words, tone, and body language for a long moment. Those funny feelings in his belly had been coming more often than not around Daphne, but he'd not been able to put a name on it at all. Right now, his belly felt as if it was full of bees that were buzzing about. Finally, Harry offered, "Good. So do I."
A knock on the door announced the arrival of Sirius. He had moved to Rowan Hill to forge a relationship with Harry. Sometimes things went well, other times, the demons of both wizards intruded on their burgeoning relationship. On the whole, though, Harry felt that he had his Godfather well and truly back in his life. "Hey you two, time to head out for the train." They all linked hands as Sirius side-along apparated the rising Second Year Hogwarts students to Platform 9 ¾.
Two minutes later, they joined Neville in their compartment.
"Hey, mate," Harry greeted as he and Daphne entered the compartment on the train.
"'Lo, mate," Neville greeted without looking up from his lap desk. Once again, their Gryffindor friend was behind on his schoolwork.
Harry and Daphne chuckled at the familiarity of the situation as they settled quietly, opposite their friend.
Hermione arrived, and sighed at the sight of Neville still plugging away at his work. Harry helped her heft her trunk to the overhead before she sat next to Neville, helping him wrap up the hated potions essay.
Justin and Tracey arrived just as Neville added the last flourish to his work.
And just like that, the world was back in alignment for Harry. The ghosts of the previous year were fading in his memory. He had Daphne at his side, his friends all gabbling and catching up. He sat there, soaking it all in as Hermione and Daphne chatted while the rest traded barbs and stories about their summers and families.
Life was good.
.oOo.
Gilderoy Lockhart was an idiot of the first-class; there was very little third-class about him in this, or any other, category. There was just nothing good there. Even Hermione, the ever-dutiful scholar, had nothing good to say about the man. Harry wrote just one letter to Sirius complaining about the 'lessons' they were forced to endure and the man was gone a week later. Was it correlation or causation that spurred the feeble wizard's removal? Harry would never know, but the rest of the year was blissfully quiet and wonderful until the last weekend when everything changed. Yet, in hindsight years later, the change wasn't so large, after all.
"Harry," Daphne began as they were wandering about the grounds on a beautifully warm early summer day. There was a tremble in her voice that caused him to look up to her in concern. "We get to go to Hogsmeade next year."
She had his full attention now. Harry nodded in anxiety for this was a topic that had consumed him for the past three months. "We do," he agreed nervously.
"I'm telling you now, that I want to go to Hogsmeade only with you." Her face blushed as red as the Gryffindor lion
His innards uncoiled as his nerves relaxed. "Good, because you're the only one that I want to go to Hogsmeade with." Turning to her, he deliberately met her gaze, "Ever."
She beamed a smile at him as her blush faded. "Me too."
His nerves were jangling as he decided to follow his godfather's advice from over Yule Break. Harry leaned over, and paused as Daphne's breath caught. Slowly, he caressed her cheek while he kissed her.
Her hand drifted up to entwine in his hair as they pressed their lips together in their inexperienced and shy way. After a long moment, they broke apart. "Are you mine, Lady Daphne?" he asked.
She smiled as she playfully tugged on his hair. "How many times do I have to tell you, my Lord?"
He smiled at her, remembering all the times she had answered the question before even being asked.
"Forever."
.oOo.
"Hey, mate," Harry greeted as he and Daphne entered the compartment on the train.
"'Lo, mate," Neville greeted without looking up from his lap desk. The more things change, the more they stayed the same. Third year was looking up.
.oOo.
Going to Hogsmeade was dull. Going to Hogsmeade with Daphne was brilliant.
.oOo.
"Lord Harry, please stay after for a moment. Class dismissed," announced the new Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Harry traded looks with Daphne. She half-shrugged as they packed up their books and notes before she half-dawdled to the door in an attempt to overhear the discussion. Harry chuckled to himself; she trusted no one with his safety. Not even a Hogwarts professor.
To be fair, Quirrell had been a Hogwarts professor.
Shaking away the thought, he slung his satchel strap over his shoulder as he moved to the front of the class. "Yes, Professor Lupin?"
The teacher's face melted into a smile, "I wanted to tell you that your parents were some of my closest friends. I've been out of the country for the better part of ten years with work and it's taken me a while to get back. Sirius' letter caught up to me just a few months ago."
Recognition flooded Harry, "You're Moony!"
Lupin threw back his head and laughed. "Yes, I am, little Harry. Yes I am."
Daphne popped her head into the classroom at the ruckus. Harry motioned to her. "C'mere, this is Moony that Sirius is always telling us about." Turning back to the smiling man, Harry told him, "Daphne is my best friend, and…," he blushed, "She also agreed to be my girlfriend."
Lupin smiled at the beaming Daphne Greengrass as she sidled up to Harry. "I'm very pleased to meet you in more informal circumstances, Lady Daphne."
"Please, call me Daphne."
.oOo.
Harry was sat at the end of the Hufflepuff table, surrounded by his friends. Reaching for the bowl of potatoes, he frowned as a spurious thought crossed his mind.
Turning to Neville, he asked, "Hey mate, where does Hogwarts get it's food?"
Neville swallowed his roast beef before he replied, "Well, the vegetables are all grown in greenhouse seven. Not sure where the meat, eggs and non-plant food comes from."
Harry blinked. "Greenhouse seven is the smallest greenhouse at Hogwarts. How do they grow enough food to feed all these students and staff all year long?"
Neville shrugged. "I'd have to ask Professor Sprout. I'm sure there's a way to accelerate the growth of a plant without damaging its nutritional value."
A glimmer of an idea flashed through Harry's mind as he agreed with his friend. "Let's ask her after dinner. I'm curious."
.oOo.
"I swear by all that's holy that magical Britain is one of the most racist places on the planet!"
Harry raised his eyebrows as he traded wide-eyed looks with Neville. They were studying Ancient Runes in the classroom that they'd adopted as their own.
.oOo.
Daphne stormed into the library at Rowan Hill, and Harry thought he could see the steam rising from her head as she scowled mightily. Swallowing his smile at her stomping about the room while she slammed books down on their study table, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"My father wants to arrange my marriage."
All humour fled only to be replaced with stark terror. Wide eyed, Harry croaked, "What?"
.oOo.
"I think I want to do research after we graduate," Daphne murmured from the circle of his arms.
.oOo.
Another Letter
Harry was puttering about the house, doing his best at avoiding his nearly omnipresent concern. Today was his sixteenth birthday. One more year until he came of age. The last year of his childhood. The omnipresent concern, though had to do with his girlfriend, best friend, beloved and centre of his world. He wanted to ask her to marry him but was afraid that she'd turn him down. They were only sixteen after all.
Pop
Harry spun about, a wide smile on his face for he knew that sound. There, on his desk, was The Letter. Glowing. Again.
Rushing over, he plopped into his chair as he opened the missive.
31/07/96
Dear Harry,
You've done it. You've nearly finished your magical education, incorporated yourself into magical society, formed friendships that will transcend time. Most importantly, you've found the love of good people. The love of a good woman. You've loved people more than your own life. There is no greater satisfaction nor any greater success than to love and be loved. I'm so incredibly happy for you.
You and Daphne are getting ready for the big leap. I know that you've been talking around the topic of bonding, but for some silly reason, you are unsure as to the correct course of action. I'll ask you to do this. Close your eyes and try to imagine meeting up with Daphne at a shop in Diagon Alley where she is accompanying her husband while you're accompanied by your wife and you're not married to each other.
Harry didn't need to close his eyes. The mere thought nearly caused him to vomit.
That little test should tell you your path. Show some Gryffindor bravery alongside your Hufflepuff loyalty.
In a very strange way, I look at you as my own son. I am so very proud of you, Harry. One last, little thing. Before you ask Daphne to marry you, tell her about our little one-sided conversation. I've learned that secrets are poison in a marriage. She loves you. Trust her.
There is very little left that I can do to help you. All my research into making these series of letters, along with my partner's assistance, has led me to the point where you are able to succeed on your own. I've nothing left to tell you or to guide you with. My original enjoinder to you in the first section of this letter on your tenth birthday is still the overriding guidance I give to you once again.
Be Happy Harry. Live. Love. Be Happy.
As usual, there was no signature.
Smiling broadly, he gently folded his Letter. Tapping it against the palm of his hand, he nodded his agreement. Time to man up.
.oOo.
Harry had never been more terrified in his life. Daphne – his Daphne – stood before him in all her glory. He didn't know how long he loved her, just that it seemed as if he'd always loved her. In his heart, he knew that she loved him in just the same soul bearing, heart searing manner.
But he was still terrified.
He studied her crinkled brow as she took his hand, "Harry, whatever you have to tell me, I'll still love you. Never doubt it."
He smiled. She always knew what to say. She knew him better than he knew himself.
Taking a deep breath, he tore off the plaster while he studied his hands. "On my tenth birthday, I was cooking breakfast for my Aunt and Uncle when I heard a loud pop that caused me to turn around."
He didn't notice that her eyes had rounded.
"On the table was a letter that hadn't been there before. A letter that, well…"
"Was glowing yellow and was from your future self," she finished for him in a whisper.
Stunned, he looked up. "Did you…?"
She nodded. "The summer of my tenth year, in the stables it showed up as I was tending to Daisy. She'd had a stone in her hoof and I'd just worked it our and was going to brush her when the letter showed up and scared me half to death."
"Mine was from my future self."
She nodded, "Mine was from my future self."
He nodded his understanding. Curiosity burned in him, but his innate Hufflepuff came to the fore, "Would you like to read mine?"
She smiled the smile that entranced him. "No. That's for you. It may have brought us together, led us to our friends and helped us with general guidance, but we're still us."
He stood, taking her in his arms. "And we're still in love."
She kissed him in agreement.
Closing his eyes, he lay his forehead on hers. "Will you marry me, Daphne?"
He could feel her smile. Opening his eyes, he saw a drip of tears on her face. Dropping to both knees, he took her hands in his. "Forever."
She nodded, "Yes. Forever."
Smiling, he reached into his pocket for the ring that his mother had worn. That the love of his life would wear.
.oOo.
A Goodbye
Harry stood next to Daphne; her arm was wrapped in his as they stood over Justin Finch-Fletchley's grave. "Is it terrible that I'm relieved he's gone, now?" he asked in an undertone that only she heard.
She shook her head. "He was in pain for so long, and was missing Tracey so much that I think he wanted to die. He just wanted the pain to end, and to see her again." She surreptitiously wiped a tear as she leaned on her husband. The combined Potter/Longbottom/Finch-Fletchley clan had turned out for Justin's funeral. Neville hobbled up as he leaned on his stick, Hermione supporting him from his side.
Harry smiled. "Hey, mate," Harry greeted as he had done so many times throughout their lives.
"'Lo, mate," Neville replied with a grin. The tall, broad chested man who had been the European dueling champion in his youth was long gone, but the genuine expression of affection he wore whenever he looked at his family was still evident.
"It was a nice service," Hermione observed with a warble in her tone. To keep up appearances in the muggle world, they'd had a Church of England funeral prior to this magical internment. Hearing the sorrow in Hermione's voice, Daphne moved to her friend's side to comfort her the best she could. There were no 'bests' among the six friends, but Hermione still grieved the loss of Tracey who had died in a ridiculous potion brewing accident as she taught her great grand-daughter how to brew a simple boil removing potion.
Justin had faded quickly after the death of his wife. Overcome by a series of falls that at his advanced age that even magical healing couldn't truly repair, the pain became first crippling then incapacitating until he was bedridden this past year.
The newest incarnation of the Baronet of Finch-Fletchley approached the four friends. "Uncle Harry," Harry Finch-Fletchley asked his godfather, "Would you say a few words before we wrap it up?"
The old man nodded to his beloved godson. "Now?"
"Please."
Harry drew a long breath as he gathered his thoughts. Looking about he saw the friends and family that he'd known most of his life looking at him expectantly. Raising his voice to be heard by all, the old man's voice held the strength of a young man. "Words are insufficient in this moment." Shaking his head, he continued, "Justin was my friend. He was my business partner. He was my ally. Two of our children married, drawing our family even closer." He chuckled under his breath as he and Daphne traded a fond look, "I don't know what that made us to each other; in-laws of some kind I'm sure.
"He named his son for me as I stood godfather for little Harry, while he and Tracey stood as godparents for our twins James and Sirius." Shaking his head again, Harry wondered aloud, "There are no words in the English language to describe how much I loved Justin. He was a good man." A tear trickled down his cheek. "I shall miss him more than words can describe.
"We are all here gathered as family. You all know my story. You all know that family is the most important thing to me. I value it above all the fabled Gold, Ambergris, and all the Jewels of Araby."
Hermione discreetly blew her nose as she began to weep. Neville wrapped his arm about her, pulling her into his side with evident affection despite his own grief. James Potter hugged his wife, Sophie, nee Finch-Fletchley, as she began to cry heavily. Their three children, their spouses and their children in turn surrounded and enveloped James and Sophie in their love. Daphne was cuddled by her and Harry's daughter, Elizabeth, as the matron of the family began to weep as well. The greater family came together in this time of pain and sorrow.
Looking at the coffin that was to be lowered into the recently established crypt for the magical Finch-Fletchley house, Harry reached out to place his hand over where his friend's heart lay. "Justin is family. The words are inadequate for how important he was to me…to all of us. But in the end, he is family."
.oOo.
Daily Prophet front page article, 01 August, 2180
Harry Potter died yesterday. He was surrounded by his family and friends as he lay in his bed that he shared with his beloved wife Daphne who he'd loved for nearly every one of his two hundred years. Their love affair began as children in their tenth year and continued until she predeceased him just two days before he passed away.
His son, Neville Potter, told me that, "Dad couldn't live without Mum. Just couldn't." After a short laugh whereupon he wiped away a tear, the new Lord Gryffindor added, "And Dad was devoted to her. Utterly and completely. I'm surprised he lasted two days without her."
He had been the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter and most popularly, the Leader of the Paladins. Of course, the Paladins are the friends and family of Harry and Daphne Potter who we all know are the heroes of this past age - who revitalized Magical Britain and even the world as we know it today. Harry Potter was the last of those revolutionaries as the Longbottoms, the Finch-Fletchleys also predeceased him.
Potter Industries, alongside Greengrass Research and Development, forged a path to today's golden age that we all enjoy. Disease has been eradicated for all of magical beings and nearly all of those diseases that afflict muggles. Working with Longbottom Hydroponics, world hunger has well and truly been solved. A new age of peace and prosperity that has never been seen in the history of the world has been ushered in and it is all due to the efforts of one man and his closest circle of friends.
Harry and Daphne Potter. Justin and Tracey Finch-Fletchley. Neville and Hermione Longbottom.
Friends. Family. Social Revolutionaries.
The exploits and stupendous successes of the Paladins are known far and wide; the complete list need not be recounted here. Never before in human history have so many owed so much to so few. Yet we must remember that our society today owes much to the actions of six friends who grew up together.
When the social and governmental establishment resisted the proposal by an eighteen-year-old Lady Gryffindor to nullify the werewolf laws, said Lady Gryffindor accepted their challenge and provided a safe environment for a controlled metamorphosis under the influence of the wolfsbane potion. Today, werewolves are socially accepted members of society; they are not hunted due to their affliction. The Head Auror, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts and many other werewolves play a prominent and critical roles in society thanks to the efforts of Lady Gryffindor.
When Lord Longbottom began his campaign for the eradication of what is now called the heinous 'muggleborn tax' which subjected all first generation magical-owned business to usury level taxation and the establishment rebelled, said Lord Longbottom accepted their challenge. He rallied his allies and led the charge against the racist injustice that had been carried on for far too long. Today, first generation magical ownership and proprietorship of businesses throughout the three kingdoms is higher than ever. Magical United Kingdom's economy is at an all-time high and Magical United Kingdom's standard of living makes even the legendary Camelot pale in comparison.
When Lady Longbottom was named the first ever muggleborn Headmistress of Hogwarts, she endured death threats while she disregarded the taunts along with the vicious and wicked actions of a few hateful individuals. She persevered with the support of her staff led by Lord Longbottom, head of Gryffindor House and Herbology professor. Lady Longbottom led a revolution in magical education; throwing wide the ancient doors of Hogwarts to accept all and sundry of magical United Kingdom instead of wizarding United Kingdom. Today, goblins, veela, house elves and even members of the Summer Court of the Fae attend Hogwarts. An ancient dragon teaches Care of Magical Creatures while a centaur is the deputy headmaster.
When Sir Justin and Lady Tracey Finch-Fletchley established the Financial Trust of the Paladins, magical education throughout the United Kingdom was fully funded for all who wanted it. Today, the Trust has expanded to fund magical education throughout all of Europe and Africa. The goal of the Trust is for global magical education to be free by the end of the next decade. Next, they'll work on providing funding for the education for non-magical children.
During all of these societal shaping events, the other five Paladins always turned to their leader. The man who made it all possible. In his humility, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Vanquished the Dark Lord in his aborted attempt at resurrection always maintained a simple maxim.
"It's the right thing to do. It's the just thing to do."
Lord Gryffindor stood as the Minister for Magic that led to the institution of a coherent world-wide magical governing body. As the leader of that body, he stood tall as he brought our society out of the shadows to peacefully integrate into non-magical society. There is not a single being, human or non-human who does not recognize the name of Harry Potter and associate it to a hero of the planet.
The world is poorer today. We have lost a great man who not only accomplished amazing things, world re-shaping feats, but more importantly, he was a profoundly decent man; a devoted husband, father of four, grandfather of fifteen, great-grandfather of thirty and the great-great-grandfather of three. He rebuilt the House of Potter through love, civility, integrity, genius, and a sense of goodness that cause those about him to stand in awe and respect. All who knew him wished they could have his courage, his morale fibre.
I called him Pop-Pop as a small child. I am proud to be of the line of Harry and Daphne Potter and shall shed more than a few tears today as we bury my grandfather next to my grandmother. I miss them both already, and expect that sense of loss shall only grow in the days to come.
.oOo.
Postscriptum: A Love Story
… Be Happy Harry. Live. Love. Be Happy.
The wizard was actually one hundred and fifty-seven years old, not the declared fifty-seven years old he wrote. Ignoring the little lie, a very different Harry Potter from an entirely different timeline finished writing the first instalment of The Letter as his younger self would come to refer it. Sighing, he leaned back in the chair and rubbed his neck. It got stiff after too long hunched over his desk and his grand-children had harangued him about his self-inflicted pain on more than one occasion.
It had been Daphne's musing idea in the first place that had sparked the idea. Despite his potion-fuelled wreck of a marriage and her violent, arranged marriage, they'd found each other later in life. Both bound by magical vows, they could never act on their love. She'd mused at one of their many lunches, "I wish I could warn my younger self that you are my true love."
This one musing by his own true love had inspired their research that lasted nearly a century. Part Divination, part Charms, he and Daphne spent every available moment delving into magical research and ploughing new ground for this revolutionary effort.
The door opened to his study and his white-haired beloved tottered in. Her blonde tresses had faded first to silver, and now snow white, but she was just as beautiful to him as she'd been that day one hundred and ten years before when they connected at the ministry gala. He'd been enraptured with her then; devoted to her now.
"Here you go," she murmured while handing him an envelope.
Hefting it, he asked, "Is it ready?"
She nodded as she sat next to him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. "Tomorrow?"
He nodded. His letter to his younger self would be done by then. After that, it would all be over. One way or the other.
"You know that we'll cease to exist if this works?" she asked.
"I like to think that we'll just get a second chance, my love."
Her, "Hmmm," into his shoulder he took as hopeful concurrence.
Gently scooping her vein-roped hand into his own, he kissed the crown of her head with tender love. Even with his wife dead these past fifty years, the magic of his marriage vows tugged at him for this not-so innocent act. "I love you with all my heart, Daph."
He could hear her smile, "As I love you, Harry."
.oOo.
The next day they set everything up at the small stone ring on the back of the estate of Rowan Hill. Daphne carefully placed the two envelopes in the exact centre of the ring while Harry thrice checked the measurements – both physical and astronomical.
Without blushing, both centenarians disrobed before adorning the other with power channelling runes. He had chuckled during their planning, "My dear, even if our mistaken wedding vows allowed us to ravish each other, this is definitely the case where the spirit is willing while the flesh is weak."
She had laughed uproariously. Gently caressing his wrinkled cheek, she looked at him fondly, "I wish we had our time together, my love."
Another tug on his magic accompanied the small kiss to her palm. "We will."
When all was ready, they took up their spots on either side of the locus magii that would send the letters back in time. Completely focussed on their task, they began their chant to call their magic to bear. Around them, the ambient magic of the circle began to focus, refine, and amplify their efforts. Slowly, the magic built in and around them. Forming a yellow glow, it connected first Harry and Daphne, then the six stones that stood silent witness to the ritual. Ropes of power formed and strengthened. At seventy-seven seconds into their chant, an explosion of magic first rushed out of the two participants, before imploding in on them.
As both Harry and Daphne's bodies collapsed to the ground, the two envelopes disappeared with a sharp Pop.
.oOo.
Hopping back on to the step stool, ten-year old Harry Potter reached for the spatula to flip the bacon when a loud Pop behind him nearly made him shriek in surprise.
.oOo.
Ten-year old Daphne Greengrass was reaching for the curry comb to give her pony a good brushing when a loud Pop behind her made her shriek in surprise.
.oOo.
And so, the love story of the ages truly began. All because of a letter … and many other things … they lived happily ever after, until the end of their days.
The End
A/N
1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who have liked, favourited, followed, and reviewed All Because Of…. I appreciate all the comments; even those that I don't understand 😊.
2. Recommendation for this chapter is Bonds of Matrimony by HonorverseFan. It's an amazing Harry/Fleur story written for a teenage girl in Australia named Emily. She's currently in a hospital battling a rare form of bone cancer that affects her hips and legs. In order to try and treat the cancer, the doctors are being forced to amputate her left leg. I don't think I need to explain what must be going through her head right now.
A member of the server who is a cancer survivor has made it a goal to visit children and teenagers in hospitals to try and bring them some joy and comfort. He met Emily while being treated himself and introduced her to flowerpot which she adores reading. So, a few members have decided to step up and start the Emily Collection just for her in the hopes that we can bring her a little joy during this dark time.
For this collection, anyone who wants to participate will only need to follow one criterion which is that the story must overall have plenty of fluff. It can take place from 4th year all the way out to post-war.
The end of April will be the tentative deadline for all fics due.
It's honestly pretty heart-warming watching the server come together for a cause like this. Thank you, HonorverseFan for your efforts not only in writing your well-written story, but for bringing a little light into the light of someone who so desperately needs it.