Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!!!!!!!! it all belongs to the wonderful woman that has inspired us all: J.KRowling. Don't bother suing me, I'm only 13 and I don't have any money or anything. so : P

Author's Note(my little speechy bit): k, well, I've been writing this sporadically (is that the right word? for about 5 weeks now but only seriously for about 3 days, which probably makes it go even stranger. Sorry, if you think it's weird and aren't quite sure what's happening in it etc. but I'm not sure I know what it's about either, it just kinda fell out of my fingers and into the computer, some of it is meant to be sad, but I'm pants at writing sad stuff so it is just strange.. Sorry if I get my tenses mixed up, it gets confusing when it's only half eight in the morning and you're on holiday. Please R+R: najuk@olfisher.freeserve.co.uk is the address to send your comments to. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

Memories

by Najuk

Drifting, drifting softly away, everything's so strange and yet so familiar, the surroundings, I know them - I think - it's misty, it's like looking through smoked glass, the glass, that terrible glass, I remember it now, the intriguing story lies ahead of me in patches, my shreds of memory, not my memory of my real life, but the memory of the future generations, the memories of things I have seen while I have been drifting, I don't want to look into them, but I know I must, else I will drift forever, I must find a way to close my wounds. I come to the first one, it's like a pool of shining silky darkness, there are many of them, lying in the mist, I must visit them one by one, and remember, I don't want to, but I must, I must, this first one is slightly larger than the others nearer to me than the others. My ethereal self peers over the edge

The sun beats down on a hot summer's day, the castle stands at the top of the hill, gazing imperiously out over its grounds, the lake shimmers a deep blue, warm and sparkling to its very depths, scattered over the grounds several students wander happily freed from the torture of exams. A small group are sprawled at the edge of the lake, tickling the giant squids long tentacles, at the north end of the lake, tall slim girl with chestnut brown hair is lying stretched out languorously in the grass in the shade of a tree, her feet rest in the warm water, her shoes and socks lie forgotten by her side, she seems to be asleep, but she is not, she is merely waiting. A girl with fiery red hair pulled messily out into two plaits, stumbles out of the castle, she runs clumsily towards the lake, on seeing the other girl she creeps over slowly, silently kneels down at the very edge of the lake, carefully puts a hand into the warm water and tickles the girls feet. She sits up quickly, smiling dazedly.

"Ginny!"she reproves jokingly. She lies back down again Ginny stretches herself out and lies down by the girl.

"Where are Harry and Ron?"

"Extra Divination Exam," the girl answers lazily, "Because they've done so badly lately, they have to do another one." both girls stifle their sniggers as the two in question come into view.

"Thought we'd find you here," said a tall spindly boy with the same colour hair as Ginny.

"Yeah, well you found us. How was the exam?" the girl asks the other boy.
"Terrible, we had to crystal gaze again and - what a surprise - I didn't see anything."

"So what did you say?"

"That I could see Voldemort coming up to the castle and he was telling someone of all his plans to kill me and Dumbledore, she seemed genuinely impressed." said the other boy, who was quite small and thin he had jet black hair that messily crept down over his forehead.

"Harry! You shouldn't lie so much."

"Oh, lighten up won't you, Hermione, you'd have done it too." the girl was silent, after a short while the red haired boy looked upwards and saw a white owl circling down towards them.

"Hey Harry, it's Hedwig," he exclaimed. Harry looks up just as the owl landed on his arm, he takes the letter, and reads it, "It's from Snuffles," he whispers

The icy black pool disappears, as though it's being sucked away, it doesn't matter, it's not important, it's wiped from my memory now. I float over to the next piece of ghostly memory

A pale boy stands in a dark marble passage, he is clearly waiting for someone, his bleach blond hair is slicked back, he has on his best robes, dark stunning black, they enfold and cover him, making a sharp contrast with his pale hands and face. In his long skeletal hands which he inherited from his real father, he holds a letter, from one of his father's deepest enemies, a man who signs himself S.Black, he re-reads the letter,

To D.Malfoy,

I write this letter to you not out of friendship or kindliness, but because everyone must know the truth at some point and because I think that no one else is likely to tell you. It may or may not come as a slight shock to you, but like I said, we must all learn the truth some time. Any way, to the point, the people who you believe to be your parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are not your real parents, they know and I know and your real parents know, that is all. Your real parents will probably come as a bigger shock to you, they are Tom Riddle (or Lord Voldemort as he is also known) and the wife of the enemy of your' father' and his friends, Lily Potter, I shall not go into detail as to how this came about, but I came to know of it because I was one of Lily's best friends and confidantes. I know this hasn't been the best way to tell you but it's the easiest for me. If you send a return owl I will meet you in your manor at midnight on Wednesday 15th.

Yours sincerely,

S.Black

As the boy reads it filmy tears form in his eyes, he wipes them away swiftly, it being a disgrace to cry, even if there is no one there to see him, at last there is a noise outside, the boy rushes on to the balcony to greet a tall, gaunt, stranger with long black hair.

"Mr. Black! I'm so glad you, no, um, well, I'm glad you haven't been caught yet, umm I think," the boy trails off lost for words as he and the man walk down the cold, dark passage

The cold image swims in front of me before slowly being sucked into oblivion like the memories before that, but there are yet more things to be wiped from the memory of my ghost before I can leave, and I must leave for this torture is tearing me apart, I must remember, I must

The steam billows from the train, children mill around talking excitedly, greeting friends as they appear at the gate as though from nowhere. A boy with green eyes and messy black hair, - that hair again, it reminds me so much of James, I miss him so much, why couldn't I have been like him, I love James I wish I could relive my memories of him but I can't, not until I've closed my wound - emerges from the gateway, panting from his run, a girl with thick brown hair follows him through, they push their luggage trolleys through the crowds towards a tall boy with ginger hair, he stands confidently, leaning against the train, a younger girl with the same colour hair, stands beside him, chatting animatedly to one of her friends.

"Hi Ron!" says the girl cheerily, punching him in a friendly manner. Ron smiles, and nods at the girl and the black haired boy.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione, how are you two? What have you been doing over the holidays?" The three of them continue to talk whilst shoving their great suitcases and cages onto the train, shuffling through the carriages trying to find an empty compartment. As the four of them collapse into the comfy seats and the train blows out an extra puff of steam, it slowly pulls away from the station and begins to pick up speed.

A skinny boy, who looks even paler than usual, opens the compartment door, the four inside glance at him, then all look at Harry knowingly, he stands up and makes his way towards the pale boy.

"Draco," he murmurs softly, "We need to talk." Draco nods and leads Harry away

Oh, how I wish it hadn't happened, I wish James hadn't had to leave for so long, I wish everything could change, that I could go back in time and be stronger, but no, I am glad it happened, for if it hadn't then the darkness would have carried on far longer, and the light would not have grown brighter, but I wouldn't have had my wounds. I near the next black pool and peer over once again

A girl, of about fifteen or sixteen is standing in a corridor, waiting - sometimes I think there is too much waiting going on in the world, everyone is always waiting for something, be it a friend, some help, the Snitch, or even death, people are always waiting - she twirls a strand of her thick brown hair around a long index finger and continues to stand there. The scene does not change for several minutes until the boy with that messy jet black hair comes running along the corridor. The girl looks up and smiles, the boy stops running a short distance away from her and walks towards her. He kisses her lips gently.

"Hermione," he whispers, so softly it is little more than a tiny breeze amongst the fragile leaves of a willow tree. She smiles once more and murmurs something into his ear, he blushes slightly and looks down.

"Sorry," he says as he slips his hand in hers, he turns her round to face him and kisses her once more, his obvious delight shows on his face as he revels in the moment. After what seems like an age, the passion-full kiss comes to an end. The girl's face breaks out into a wide grin as the boy puts his arm around her whilst they start their slow, meandering wander.

"I just can't believe it, it can't be right." the boy starts, Hermione listens, then pulls a face,

"I dunno, Harry, I guess it must be if Sirius said and you know Sirius would never lie, especially not to you."

"Yes I know, but I just don't want it to be true."

"Well then, either accept it and forget about it or just plain forget about it. It doesn't have to make things between you and Malfoy any different."

"True, I guess I can but try."

"Then try, Harry, I don't know what else to say." Hermione looks downcast.

"Don't worry Herm, it doesn't matter, not right now anyway," Harry smiles and pulls her into another deep, love-filled kiss. The girl smiles and kisses him back

If only he'd carried on thinking it didn't matter, I sigh to myself, as the picture disappears and yet another inky black pool opens before me

A fire blazes in a warm room, it is full of large squashy chairs and happy people. They sit in groups or on their own, working, talking, laughing, shouting and playing, all of them are happy, all except for one. He sits quietly with two others, one, a boy, with fiery red hair and the other, the girl that Harry loves to kiss. The other two are talking happily and trying to work while the black haired boy sits in his chair staring vacantly into space. As the evening drags on people start to leave in ones and twos up the two staircases at the end of the room until there is only the three left in the corner. The red haired boy stands up and stretches.

"Jeez, I'm tired, you coming to bed Harry?" he asks the other boy who shakes his head slightly and comes back from his little dreamy world, he looks up at the boy and shakes his head again.

"No," he murmurs, "I'll come up later. You go." the boy shrugs and says

"'K, night Hermione, night Harry." and he leaves the room. For another half hour or so, the girl continues to work, but with frequent glances at Harry who has hardly said anything or moved all evening. Eventually, she too gets up.

"I'm going to bed Harry, you want to go too else you'll be a wreck by tomorrow." he shrugs in an uncaring manner, she bends to kiss his lips, he responds slightly, but not much, "Good night Harry," she says and turns to go, he suddenly seems to realise that she's leaving and leaps up, catches hold of her and swings her round through the air, she laughs and smiles, glad that her Harry has woken from his torpor, her hair whips round - I smile sadly as I remember me and James doing the exact same thing and feeling so young and happy, it pains me so much to think of James, but I cannot help it, I wish I could be with him - Harry sets her down and pulls her into a tight embrace.

"Sorry," he whispers. She kisses his forehead.

"That's alright." he smiles in relief and kisses her once more, he leads her over to the staircase leading to her dormitory, her fingers linger in his hands and after a long backward glance, she disappears up the stairs. He sighs in a lovesick way and slowly makes his way up the other staircase.

The door at the top of the tower creaks open as he enters silently, he creeps over to the one remaining empty bed and climbs on top of it, pulling the velvet curtains around him and collapses on to the pillow, not even bothering to change his clothes. He lies, with his face buried in the pillow for several minutes until he lifts his tousled head up, beats the pillow with tight-clenched fists and an angry whisper breaks free from his lips.

"I hate you Lily Potter, I hate you," - and my wound was cut - his soliloquy continues, "I used to love you and think you were good but now I hate you and I shall hate you forever, death won't stop me hating you, I shall hate you until my soul is done away with, nothing shall stop me. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. " - those words cut into me like a knife, twisting, slashing, slicing, stabbing, I scream and scream though no one can hear the remains of a ghost, how can one little four letter word cause so much pain? It even hurts the dead, hurts so much. I wish I were alive so I could die and be free, but it cuts and twists, deeper and deeper, if I had blood it would gush and gush til there was none left but I have none to start with and I am left with the shreds of my soul and the shards of my memory - the tears trickle from his eyes, hot with anger they course down his hateful face. His fists bang on the feathery pillows and the words continue to escape from him "I hate you, how could you do this to me? I thought you were good and kind, everyone loves you and your precious memory but me, no on else knows, so I shall be the only one to hate you, but that will not stop me, I shall hate you with all my soul, nothing can stop me. I hate you" it carries on through the night until he eventually falls asleep, his anger raging on into his dreams

How I wish it hadn't happened, that I'd been stronger, that Harry had wiped the knowledge away like a fly, that he'd known how much I didn't mean it and how much I regret it, but now my wound has been cut, I have travelled that far, and now I must stop it else that torture will never end

It is almost ten years later, I have drifted through so many scenes of the future, it pains me to think of it, but now here comes the final few, I will close my wound eventually and who knows what will happen

The weak early morning rays seep through a gap in the floral curtains, it comes to rest on a pair of sleeping bodies, a man with his arms wrapped protectively around a woman, she stirs in a dream, smiling briefly and moves closer to him. The sun gradually grows stronger, eventually it wakes the man up. He blearily wipes the sleep from his bright green eyes, he starts to get up, but realises his arm is under the sleeping body next to it, he lies down again and carefully slides his arm out, so slowly that the young woman is able to stay dreaming, he looks at her lovingly, bends to kiss her eyelids then rises from his bed.

He is sat at breakfast with a dressing gown wrapped round him, when the woman comes downstairs, her thick brown hair tousled and messy. She greets him with a kiss and sits down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Good night's sleep?" he asks her. She smiles and nods.

"It's a good thing it's Sunday, I really can't be bothered with work today."

"Mmmm, me neither, I'm so worn out from this last few weeks, it's been the toughest ever."

"Yeah, I hope it finishes soon."

"Don't we all, but, somehow I don't think it will." they both sigh and continue with their breakfast. A few minutes later an owl, bearing a small envelope raps at the window, the woman reaches up to open the window and let it in, the owl lands on the table, dropping the letter in the woman's hands.

"You open it Harry." He takes it, opens it carefully and the letter slides out. He reads it quickly then jumps up, kisses the woman, and hastily runs up stairs leaving the letter on the table, the woman picks it up.

To Mr and Mrs Potter,

It is with great regret that I have to tell you that Dumbledore's state has made no improvements, in fact, it seems to be worsening, he begs to see you, I urge you come quickly, there may not be long,

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

The woman gasps and drops the letter before racing upstairs into her husbands arms.

"Harry!" she cries, "tell me it's not true, it can't happen, please Harry, please," she sobs into Harry's shoulders, he gently brushes her hair away from her wet face and kisses her forehead lightly.

"Don't worry Herm, Dumbledore's been through worse than this, he'll pull through, he's plenty more years to live, he'll be fine, Herm, just fine." But the man seems to be saying this more to reassure himself than anything else, he hugs his wife tightly while she continues to cry in a muffled voice, slowly the sobs subside slightly and she pulls her head away.

"Come on Harry, we have to quickly," she says, breathing deeply, trying to steady herself, he nods and lets her enter the bathroom while he goes back into the bedroom to get dressed

Well, I guess I can't help some things happening, falling in love for instance, I am glad y boy has found such a perfect soulmate, I am glad for him even though he still hates me which continually tears me apart, my shredded soul drifts onwards towards the next deep black pool and before I reach it, I can sense it is laced with sadness

"Harry!" a stern woman, who has grown far older than when Harry first met her, runs awkwardly towards the pair who have just appeared in front of a large castle.

"How is he professor?" the man asks, the older woman shakes her head,

"Not good I'm afraid," the man's grip on the young woman beside him tightens, "but come inside, he wishes to speak with you." she leads the shaking couple inside the large castle, up several staircases and through many winding passages until they reach an ugly stone gargoyle

"Jumping geraniums," the woman mutters, the gargoyle springs aside and the wall opens, undaunted, the three step onto the winding escalator, when they reach the top, the older woman turns to go saying "I've got to go, Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy will be arriving any minute so I must greet them, the headmaster is in there," she indicates a door in the corner "stay as long as you wish." And she is gone.

"Come on Hermione," the man says, pulling the woman to the door, "we have to see him don't we?" she nods dejectedly, but then pulls herself up straight and follows her husband through the door with her head held up bravely, though her bottom lip trembles slightly.

An old man looks up from a bed in the corner of the room as they enter "Ah, Harry, Hermione, I was wondering when you would come," he smiles.

"We came as soon as we could sir," says Harry as he sits down in one of the small chairs next to the bed. "We are sorry to hear you're not getting better.

"Oh, it is nothing, all this fuss about a little cold, well I never," He laughs quietly to himself, but it makes him choke, he struggle to sit up and breathe, coughing and spluttering, Harry leans over and helps him sit up and waits for the coughing to subside.

"You really aren't good, professor." says the woman, who has been standing quietly in the corner.

"Ah, wise Hermione, always worrying too much, I am fine, come, sit with us, there is nothing to fear." she sighs and pulls up a chair beside Harry who takes her hand in his reassuringly, she smiles slowly.

"So, how is the school?" she asks tentatively.

"It is doing well, this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is particularly good, takes the same line of teaching as good old Lupin used to. Have you seen Lupin lately?"

"We saw him at Christmas when we went to see Harry's godfather, he seemed well enough then...." - this pointless chatter has no meaning, I cannot do anything to help anyone here, I shall wait a bit longer, it carries on for hours until - the old man, grimaces and turns to the couple,

"Harry, Hermione, I have lied, I am not well and I know it and I know that you do also, I know that my time here is not long so I must tell you all you need to know." Hermione, bites her lip and nods, blinking the tears away, Harry sits silently, gripping his wife's hand.

"Go on professor, we are listening."

"When I am dead Voldemort shall return immediately, he has been waiting so long, but I have known for even longer I didn't tell anyone for I knew that the second I did he would change his plan, but now, the time has come, there is not enough time for him change his plans and someone must be prepared. There is no one else but you, who I would dream of telling, you are the greatest witch and wizard of you generation, and if you defeat Voldemort, which, no doubt you will, you will become the most powerful people in the wizarding world, and I know you shall not turn you power to the Dark Side like some would. When I die, I want you to take Fawkes Harry, he will be most loyal to you."

"Professor! I couldn't, he's. . . he's . . well, yours."

"Harry, when I am gone, where will he go? I want you to have Fawkes, he will help you. Hermione, the Pensieve is yours, I know you shall use it to your best advantage."

"But professor, those things are awfully rare, shouldn't it go in a museum or something?"

"What?! And be wasted away and not used, most certainly not, it is yours. You may also each take any two things from my office that you wish to keep, and don't take something silly, take something useful, my favourite socks for instance!" he smile, but they can both tell he is serious. "I want you to be prepared for when the worst comes, you two are very dear to me, I will protect you as best as I can when I am gone, but that isn't much, though I shall try, like your parents did Harry."

"My father did, tell him I love him if you see him, but my mother, well, don't talk to me about her," he snorts.

"You still hate her, eh?"

"With all my soul." Dumbledore sighs resignedly.

"Well, I guess I can't do anything about that but to say she loves you." - with all my heart I love you Harry, truly, madly, deeply, it wasn't my fault, I shall love you more than you could ever hate me, though your hate is ripping me to shreds all the time, I try to be strong, like James, but I am not, but I shall try - "Harry, outside the door, there are two people waiting, I think you should let them in now." he nods and stands up, walks over to the door and opens it. A tall man with bright ginger hair steps into the room, closely followed by a smaller, thinner man, he is sickly pale and his blond-white hair is rapidly thinning. Harry embraces them both saying "Ron, Draco, glad to see you," they reply respectfully and come closer to the bed, the woman stands up and kisses the other two on the cheek and sits down again.

"I am glad you have all been able to make it, I wanted to see you one last time," the old man speaks calmly though his voice his gradually growing weaker. "You are four of the finest students I have ever seen, naturally, you each have you personality traits," the white haired man blushes the most at this comment "but I know how hard you have worked for me and I just want to say thank you. . . .and good bye," his voice fades into silence as he lies back in his bed, the tears spill over the woman's cheeks first, relentlessly they run down her face as she bends to kiss the old man, the other three kiss him also and pay their respects, nervously watching his thin chest rise and fall shallowly, he smiles faintly and murmurs, "Good bye Harry," before closing his eyes for the last time. Hermione utters a wail of grief and buries her head in Harry's shoulder sobbing silently, Harry wipes his eyes, unashamed of the tears that have formed in them, then bends over the forever-sleeping man to pull the bedclothes straight and lay his hands on his chest. The other two men look on sadly, the red haired one letting the occasional tear escape whilst the other breathes deeply, stopping himself from crying, showing any emotion at all was to let himself down completely, the others know he can't help it and carry on with their own ways of showing their grief

I saw him go up, he didn't see me, but I saw him, I hope he sees James to tell him Harry loves him, I just wish I were there too

There is no sun here, it is dark and stormy, the electricity crackles through the air, the rugged heath is deserted for the moment, the rough clouds swirl angrily overhead and the wind whistles chillingly over the bare ground, suddenly a wildly cloaked figure appears as though from nowhere and as if on apron strings four figures, three men and a woman follow him, their robes whipping rapidly against their skin. A thin high cackle can just be heard before it is snatched up into the wind and thrown far away.

"So, Harry Potter and his comrades, in my grasp at last, no good old Dumbledore to protect them now, what will happen? This should be interesting."

"We're not so bad at magic ourselves you know, we can do things for ourselves," shouts the red haired man. The woman smiles nervously at him muttering to herself "Don't be idiotic Ron."

"Oh you can, can you?" the speakers thin lips twist into a smile, which, if you didn't know much better, could also be taken as a grimace of pain. "Well, you three are just here for the show, so, if you stay quiet and out of the way, nothing will happen to you, but you, " he turns to face the man with his arms around the woman, "you are going to finally meet your parents." The young man's breathing becomes faster, but he is trying to control it, he kisses the woman gently and murmurs something in her ear.

"Oh, keeping secrets now are we?" the figure grabs the man and tears him from his wife, the man's face contorts with pain and fury at this touch, "What were you going to say to the pretty lady? It's rude to whisper, if you want to say something, tell us all at least," his voice is coated in thick, sugary, mock politeness. "Well, tell us then, we'll get it out of you, don't you worry Potter." the man shakes his head stubbornly.

"Oh, well, words won't persuade you will they?" both men pull out their wands but the first one to issue a flash of light is the one held in the thin skeletal hands of the tall man with snake like eyes.

"Crucio," he utters cruelly and the other man's body twists in pain, he screams, but stays standing. "Still not telling? Let's see what this does. Crucio"

It continues for several minutes, the young man is doubled up with the pain that riddles his body and makes him wish he were dead

At last, my time has come to show my son I love him I step into the black pool and my ghostly figure is made visible on the moor

"Mother!" the man shouts, seeing me momentarily before he squeezes his eyes shut as another flash of pain bursts into his thin body. I know how he feels, I have suffered that pain for so many years, but kept on going trying to ignore it, but now I realise that, now, my pain has got a use. Another flash of whiteness shoots from the wand, through the air to my son who is lying crumpled on the floor, screaming in agony, when he gets a chance he takes his wand, mutters something and sends a jinx flying through the air to Voldemort, though hardly any of them have the slightest of effect, the woman on the sidelines cries helplessly, screaming "You shall pay for this Voldemort!" and "Harry! Harry!" as she sobs into the shoulder of her husband's half-brother who has an arm around her awkwardly while he looks on in anguish, the other man's face is contorted with fear, anger and worry as he watches his best friend being tortured. I know I am the only one who can stop him. I reach my son and take his face in my hands, he tries to squirm away, but he is held still by his pain,

"Mother," he gasps, "get away from me, I hate you," the words cut me once again, but it is worth it for I know my torture shall only carry on for a short while longer. I smile kindly and say "I love you Harry, I know you hate me, but I couldn't stop loving you even if I wanted to, I'm going to help you now whether you want me to or not," I bend my head and kiss him with my icy lips, knowing my love will save him once again. He looks up at me as if suddenly, all his strength has been renewed and his feelings over the past ten years have suddenly been reversed. He stands up shakily and says something, but the wind tears it away before the words can be heard.

"What was that? A little louder of you please Mr Potter."

"I said, now, I will tell you what I told my wife before."

"Glad to see you've come to your senses, though I doubt that now it will make a difference," he laughs his high, evil laugh once more.

"I said 'How many times have I beaten this guy before Herm? This is just another of those times, don't worry' and I'd like to add that, if I die, then remember me, not as the Boy Who Lived but as the Boy Who Loved. I love you Hermione. I shall love our baby when it is born. I love you Ron and Draco, you're the best friends a guy could have." the Dark Lord is waiting impatiently, twirling his wand in his long fingers.

"Finished your sentimental speech yet Potter?" he says idly

"No," he says defiantly, "remember me as the Boy Who Loved, I love you all, but the person I love the most is my mother, I love you Lily Potter, I'm sorry." he bows his head and a tear silently creeps down his cheek as he turns to face Voldemort once more.

"Just 'another of those times' is this Potter? I don't think so." he laughs once more and before Harry has a chance to bring his wand out he has drawn his, pointed it at my son, and shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!" the green light flashes from one wand into the man's heart, he falls to the floor, stone dead. Hermione screams, Ron bellows curses at the Dark Lord and Draco stands there helplessly. This is my moment I think to myself.

I stand still and concentrate on all the pain that Harry has caused me over the years, I bring it all together in one point, so it is hard and thick, stronger than ever, tightly held in place until I let it go, it is draining me of my power rapidly, but I know nothing will matter after this so I concentrate fiercely, pinning it all together, I turn to face Voldemort. In his revelry he does not see me standing there, glaring fiercely at the man who killed the two most important men in my life. I add my fury and anger to the little tight wrapped atom of hate and hurt and pain, it is so tight packed that even I, a spirit of a ghost, am scared of it. The electricity in the air crackles and lightning jumps around me, I pull some of their power into my tiny bomb, it is using all my strength, I have to concentrate with all my might on keeping it there, I know I can only hold it for a few moments longer, finally, I let it go. All that force, anger, pain and power is directed at the Dark Lord and though even his own killing curse cannot kill him, my tight wrapped ball of emotions does. It explodes inside him and he is filled with all my pain, far worse than that of his many victims, he falls to the floor screaming, writhing in agony, it eats its way through his body, destroying every part of him, it devours him til he is nothing but a tortured shell, full of pain unable to live any longer. I smile and dissolve into the background.

It is different from when I last was here, in this limbo, it is lighter, the dark pools of future memory have gone, there is a bright shining light further ahead, I smile gladly, I have made it. I move slowly towards the light, towards heaven, I am there after all my years of hurt and suffering. I have made it. It has been worth it. I see James' smiling face and I can tell how much he has missed me, I can see my son, both of us in the same form for the first time in twenty five years. This is the happiest moment of my life.

Epilogue

A small girl, of about eleven, makes her way through the graveyard, she brushes her long dark hair out of her green eyes so she can read the inscriptions on the tombstones better, she has forgotten her glasses. Eventually she stops at one in the far corner of the graveyard, she bends to put a flower by the stone then stands up and faces the grave.

"Dad, it's your daughter, Lily, you never knew me but everyone knows you. I just thought it would be right to visit my father's grave once in a while, it's strange living with just mum, she misses you dreadfully, even though it is nearly eleven years since I was born. I've found out all about you, mum told me most of it, but I found out loads in books. I'm hoping I'll get my Hogwarts letter this holiday, mum says I'll fit in there, it sounds wonderful, I hope I'm in the Quidditch team like you were, though I doubt it, mum says if I do get in then I can have your Firebolt for special matches, she has it in a special case over the door at the moment.

"I've been looking around this graveyard and I think your grave is by far the best, it's the most well kept and everything and it's got this beautiful white Lily-of-the-Valley growing beside it, mum planted that for you, she said it was in memory of your last words. I don't know what to say now, I think I miss you, if I knew what it would be like to have a dad then I know I would miss you, Uncle Draco is nice enough, but he's not like a real dad. I wish you were alive just so I could see you, mum says I have your eyes, that's why she called me Lily."

"Come on Lily, Uncle Draco will be coming soon, we have to go and tidy the house, you can come back another day," calls a woman in her mid thirties, standing at the gate, the girl turns to look at the woman, she turns back to the gravestone and murmurs, "Bye dad," before running over to her mother who leads her off home leaving the graveyard silent. If any passer by had walked over to the grave where the girl had been standing, they would have read the inscription:

In loving memory of

Harry James Potter

1980-2006

The Boy Who Loved

Author's Note: Phew! Well, I hope you enjoyed it and tough luck if you didn't coz I enjoyed writing it, it didn't quite turn out how I wanted it to and I'm not quite sure about the Epilogue bit(it's Harry's daughter if you hadn't twigged), but hey, I've written it now. I'm normally a very R/H, H/G person, but this time it just worked better H/H, I was gonna make it R/D as well but I wasn't sure if it would be right so I just left it hanging in the balance you can think what you like. Email me with your comments: najuk@olfisher.freeserve.co.uk (Can I say it enough times?!). See ya! : ) ^_^