Oct 27
When the
Roses Bloom
Again -
Epilogue August 1986
"Well, the war with Voldemort finished before it really
began," Reg explained as he leaned back in his chair. "With
Grindelwald, it was many years and dozens of battles.
Voldemort was defeated in one fight with your Uncle
Harry. Do you know what he did?"
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The gathered children shook their heads, and Harry shared
a look of resignation with the other men that had joined
them in Charlus's basement.
"He burned him alive from the inside out," Reg whispered
as he leaned forward.
As much as hearing the story again irked Harry, he couldn't
deny that Yaxley had a way with words.
The kids were hanging onto every single one of them, but
they were quite alarmed by his revelation.
"Alright, Reg, that's enough," he sighed. "You'll give them
nightmares."
Reg merely grinned.
"Ha, he won't look so happy when they tell Nancy," Gilbert
quipped.
Reg's smile faded and was replaced by a look of alarm.
"Bugger," he murmured.
"Uncle Reg, what happened after Voldemort died?" Daisy,
Jack's eleven-year-old daughter asked.
She was one of three children born to Jack and his wife,
Aurelia Moody who Harry believed was a cousin to Alastor,
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and grandniece to Gabriel.
They went on to have two sons also, Harry, named for him,
and Robert, for the great grandfather none of the trio
would ever have the privilege of meeting.
Robert McGonagall passed away six months after
Voldemort's defeat, and though it was peaceful, and
without illness, every member of the Evans family felt his
loss.
Jack in particular took it hard.
He had been the one to spend the most time with his
grandparents, and though he had offered to have Isobel live
with him after Robert's death, the woman would not
accept.
She would not be persuaded from the home she had shared
with her husband.
Not that she was left alone for long.
Jack would visit her daily along with each of his sisters
throughout the day, and Minerva would always stop by
when she had finished teaching.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as Reg spoke once
more.
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"Well, they went to trial and were sent to Azkaban for
varying sentences," Reg explained. "Some were given
shorter terms than others, and there are those that are still
there to this very day. Others were killed during the
fighting."
"Did you kill any, Uncle Reg?"
Reg shrugged.
"Maybe," he murmured, "but that is the way of war. We
never liked killing, but it was either them or us, and if it
was us, the world would be a vastly different place now."
The man fell silent and thoughtful as he withdrew into
himself.
"But what happened after the war?" Dahlia pressed
impatiently.
The girl had been named for her aunt, her mother's twin,
and she had a cousin who had been named for her mother.
It was rather confusing at family dinners, but Harry
suspected Iris and Dahlia had done it in part for this reason.
The former had married into the Greengrass family, the
nephew of Lord Greengrass becoming her husband.
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Daniel Greengrass was a respectable man, and it always
amused Harry to seem him stumble over his words
whenever he entered the room.
Iris had done well for herself, and though he would never
admit it aloud, Harry had grown quite fond of Daniel.
Dahlia, oddly, had married into the Abbott family, a second
cousin to someone who had once been an old friend of
Harry's, back when he had been running the DA.
The fading memory brought a smile to his lips as Charlus
took over from Reg.
"The Death Eaters were put on trial first," he explained.
"Some members of the Wizengamot wanted your Uncle
Harry punished for what he did to Voldemort, but that
didn't happen."
"Why would they punish Grandad Harry?" Clara asked.
The little girl was the double of Bella and shared no
features with her father Edgar Bones.
Harry still didn't know how the two of them had gone from
bitter rivals on the duelling circuit to being married in the
space of a year after Bella had graduated, but she was happy,
and that was all that mattered to him.
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"Because they thought that your grandad was wrong for
killing him," Charlus chuckled.
Clara scowled unhappily.
"They are stupid," she declared, folding her arms the same
way Bella did when she was displeased by something.
"They are," Charlus agreed. "The public was furious at the
idea, and your grandad invited them to try to put him on
trial. Let's just say no one was willing to do so," the Potter
lord finished amusedly.
Harry rolled his eyes as the children stared at him in awe.
"Anyway, let's get back to the rest of the story," Charlus
suggested. "You know all about what happened after
Grindelwald's war, but not Voldemort's. Now, where do we
begin?"
"I'll take over, Dad," James offered. "I can tell you all what
it was like at Hogwarts."
"Ergh, he's going to tell us about how he made Aunt Lily
fall in love with him again," Clara grimaced.
"Oi, that's a good story," James defended.
"No, it isn't!" Daisy huffed. "We want to hear about the
war."
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James glared playfully at the girl.
"Fine," he relented as he took a seat. "It went something
like this…"
January 1972
James had not gotten a moment of sleep whilst he waited
for news to arrive of what was happening at the Ministry,
and as he noticed the sun rising through the window, he
nudged the snoring Sirius awake.
They had stayed in the common room all night, along with
Peter, Remus, Lily, and Marlene who had refused to go to
bed also, as had the majority of the house.
The others had fallen asleep long ago, but not Lily.
She had been fretting about Harry and had only been
asleep for perhaps an hour or two.
"What time is it?" Sirius groaned.
"I don't know, Evans is on my arm," James whispered, "but
it must be breakfast soon."
Sirius yawned as he nodded and checked his watch.
"It's just gone seven," he informed James. "Maybe we
should ask Dumbledore what is going on. Are we even
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allowed to leave yet?"
"I'll check," Perkins said groggily as he stood from the chair
he had been dozing. "Wait here."
The Head Boy left, and James gently removed his arm that
was trapped underneath Lily and the girl slowly woke up.
"What's happening?" she asked.
There were heavy bags under her eyes, but she was
immediately alert.
"Perkins has gone to find out," James informed, the worry
he had felt all night not having abated in the slightest.
The redhead rubbed his arm comfortingly.
"I'm sure he's alright."
James merely nodded but shot to his feet when Perkins
returned sometime later.
"We can go for breakfast," he announced.
"My father?" James questioned as he approached.
Perkins offered him an apologetic look.
"Sorry, Potter, I don't know anything yet."
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James nodded and hurried from the common room with the
rest of the house as they made their way towards the Great
Hall.
"Potter, do not run in the corridors," Professor Evans
chided him.
She too looked rather drained from the night's events.
"Professor, my father?"
Minerva smiled understandingly.
"He's fine, James," she assured him. "Voldemort is dead,
and your father stayed behind to help the aurors."
James breathed a sigh of relief.
"Harry?"
Minerva rolled her eyes almost amusedly as she stepped
aside.
"See for yourself," she urged.
The Gryffindors entered the hall to find that the Slytherins
had already arrived, but James had no interest in them at
the moment. His eyes scanned the staff table where he saw
Harry eating a sizable breakfast whilst he spoke with
Professor Dumbledore.
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The two men were in deep conversation, and James decided
he wouldn't disturb them, opting to have some breakfast
himself in the knowledge that his father was okay.
"Merlin's saggy bollocks!" Sirius gasped.
The boy was reading the front cover of The Daily Prophet,
his eyes almost bulging out of his head and his mouth
agape.
"What is it?" James asked.
Sirius said nothing, shaking his head in disbelief as he slid
the paper towards James.
Voldemort Burns as Evans Saves Britain!
By Ernest Chapman
James read the article, and took in the accompanying
photos, his gaze shifting between the morning edition and
his godfather who was casually eating his breakfast as
though he had not been in a fight only hours before.
"It will take them some time to fix that damage," he
snorted, swallowing deeply as he surveyed it.
The floor had been destroyed, as had the magical fountain
he had thrown a coin or two in over the years.
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Even the bodies of the dead had been left on display for the
media to photograph.
James shook his head as he read the provisional list of the
dead.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy was killed!" he announced.
It was then that he realised just how many students from
Slytherin were missing; Malfoy, the Lestranges, the Avery
brothers, Malcolm Gibbon, and even Elsie Rosier.
There were others from less prominent families, just more
fatalities to add to a list that would only increase.
"Did Professor Evans really kill him?" Lily asked.
James nodded as he read the description given to the
journalist by a witness.
"Burnt him to a crisp, according to this."
"Good!" Sirius declared. "The git deserved all of it."
James could only nod his agreement.
He knew that Harry wouldn't have enjoyed what he'd done,
but Voldemort had been a monster that had terrorised their
country for long enough.
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If something drastic hadn't been done about him, how
much damage could the man have caused?
James didn't know, but as most of the country would be, he
was grateful for Harry, his father, and everyone else who
had fought against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.
(Break)
"There could be quite the fallout from what has happened,
Harry," Dumbledore murmured.
"Maybe," Harry acknowledged, "but that was why I killed
him the way I did. It will deter any from thinking of doing
something stupid."
Albus nodded his understanding as he sighed gently.
"I just wish the best for you and Minerva," he assured him.
"You both deserve it, but I will never stop worrying for
you."
Harry nodded appreciatively.
"I think I have proven time and again that I am prepared
for everything," he snorted. "As far as I am concerned, the
fighting is over. I'm done, Albus."
Dumbledore smiled as he patted Harry on the shoulder
before he stood to address the room.
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The rest of the students from the other houses had trickled
in and had time to read the newspaper. As had become
familiar during the Grindelwald years when he visited the
school, Harry found himself the subject of stares and
whispers.
"Last night will forever stand as a black mark in our history,
but also as one where good triumphed over evil," Albus
began sombrely. "Lord Voldemort attempted to take the
Ministry of Magic and assume a position of power over the
country."
The students in the hall whispered amongst themselves
until Albus held a hand up to silence them.
"Fortunately for us, he and his followers were unsuccessful,
and our gratitude must go towards Professor Evans, and
those that ably assisted him in his efforts to prevent that."
The staff and students clapped, and Harry frowned.
He had never wanted plaudits for anything he had done,
and he was only grateful that Voldemort had not reached
his former notoriety before Harry had the chance to stop
him.
"Thank you, Professor Evans, for continuing to keep us
safe," Albus added.
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Harry merely nodded in response, refusing to be baited into
giving a speech.
"Now, with that being said, you will notice that there are
several of our number absent," the headmaster continued. "I
do not foresee many returning to the castle, but when they
do, I urge you to remember that they are just like you. They
themselves were not involved in the attempted coup, and
many have lost loved ones to a cause they believed in. I will
say this only once; what has happened must never be
forgotten, but this castle will bear no grudges. Hogwarts
has always welcomed all who wishes to come here to be
educated, and that will not change."
With his speech completed, Albus took his seat once more,
and the students spoke amongst themselves about the
events of the previous night.
(Break)
August 1986
James's gaze had shifted to Harry as he took over, and he
smiled as he shook his head. Charlus too was watching
them both, unable to ignore the similarities between them.
"Grindelwald and Voldemort," James chuckled. "We all
thought you were the second coming of Merlin."
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Harry's nostrils flared irritably, and James smirked having
learned how to irk his godfather years prior.
"What happened after that?" Clara asked.
"Well, we finished school," James answered with a frown. "I
married Lily and decided to become an auror like Uncle
Reg and Uncle Jack."
"Why don't you have children?" the younger Iris pressed.
James hummed thoughtfully.
"It just hasn't happened yet," he explained. "Lily likes
working at the Ministry, just like my own mother did at St
Mungo's. We will have them when we are ready."
Harry had been wondering the very same thing, and though
he had not been concerned about James and Lily having
another child around the same time he had been born, he
had expected it.
Without the war to worry them, he supposed that neither
were in any rush or under pressure to do so.
Lily had been rather coy about her career, but it was an
open secret that she had taken up a post in the Department
of Mysteries.
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She truly had been a rather spectacular witch in her own
right, just as Sirius had told Harry during the summer
before his fifth year at Hogwarts.
With Voldemort dead, things truly had turned out
differently for so many.
Sirius had joined James in becoming an auror, and both
Peter Pettigrew and Remus had gone on to do rather well
for themselves.
Harry had hired the werewolf to oversee the running of an
experimental potions company he had created around a
decade ago to improve brews already available and create
new ones to target illnesses that were currently incurable.
Much to Harry's surprise, Severus Snape had applied for a
job, and he could find no reason to refuse him.
Snape was an excellent potioneer and was already making
quite the name for himself in the community.
Pettigrew had gotten a job working in the Ministry, and
though he had never given Harry cause for concern, he kept
a watchful eye on the man.
"Is all of this true?" Dahlia, Iris's daughter asked sceptically.
"Did Grandad really kill a dragon by himself ?"
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"Of course, it's true!" Reg huffed irritably. "We were all
there," he added pointing to Charlus, Arcturus, and
Gilbert.
Dahlia hummed.
"Whatever you say, Uncle Reg. Come on, it's almost lunch
time," she informed the others.
Reg shook his head as the children left the basement.
"Kids these days," he muttered. "Do they think we're a
bunch of lying old sods?"
"Probably," Harry replied carelessly with a shrug. "It makes
my life easier."
"Yeah right," James snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't
gotten bored of trying to teach when all the kids look at you
with their doughy eyes. Why do you still teach, anyway? It's
not like you need the money."
Harry nodded.
"I don't," he agreed, "and maybe one day I will give it up,
but not just yet. There are still things I'm looking forward
to experiencing as a professor."
James eyed him questioningly, but the other men nodded
their understanding.
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Harry was waiting for a particular class of students to pass
through the castle, and though that was still half a decade
away, they knew that he was anticipating their arrival
eagerly.
September 1991
It was almost as though he had stepped into the past as he
looked upon the students seated at their respective tables,
the usual pointing and whispering something he endured
much easier this year.
The world around him had changed over the decades he
had been here, but not as noticeably quickly as it had when
he had arrived this evening.
Now, he was in a world that had once been familiar to him,
but now, it was as alien as anything he had ever
experienced.
Harry had grown accustomed to the wizarding culture of
old, and now, it felt strange being back in a time when he
would have been arriving for his first year at Hogwarts.
It was a strange experience indeed.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Albus standing and
clearing his throat after the plates had been cleared.
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"I would like to welcome you all once again for another year
at Hogwarts," he began, offering the students a bow.
"Before I send you all off for a much-needed rest, there are
a few announcements to give. Firstly, a reminder to new
and returning students that the Forbidden Forest is off
limits to all students."
His lips quirked into a grin as his eyes drifted towards the
Weasley twins who did their utmost to appear as though
they were heeding the warning.
"Secondly, Professor Potter will not be with us this year as
she has just given birth to her second daughter. We of
course, offer her our most sincere congratulations."
The students murmured amongst themselves, many
disappointedly.
Lily had proven to be a popular professor since she had
taken up the post two years prior, having chosen not to
return to the Ministry after the birth of her and James's first
daughter.
It was odd for Harry to think that he finally had siblings,
not that they would ever know that connection.
The newly born of the two, Rosa, named for his own
daughter and Lily's close relationship with her, would have
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to settle for him being her godfather, as he had been for
James and Bella.
It had been his honour to accept, a sentiment that had
brought a tear to his eye.
"Standing in for Professor Potter this year will be Professor
Evans," Albus continued, gesturing towards Jasmine who
had taken the post as a break from her cursebreaking work,
"who has graciously agreed to assist us."
Harry smiled at his youngest daughter.
He suspected she would also appreciate the break from her
own home.
Much to his amusement, the woman had been determined
to have no children, but had birthed twins almost four years
ago.
Violet and Ivy were as much a handful as her own sisters
had been, and now her husband would be caring for them
full time.
Jasmine had married a member of the Zabini family, a
fellow cursebreaker she had met during an excursion in Italy
some years prior.
Davide was a good, hardworking man who had been
terrified to meet Harry, but Harry had taken a liking to
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him.
He was genuine, looked after Jasmine, and was an
exceedingly capable wizard.
"And finally, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you all that
the list of banned items can be found attached to his office
door. Please do familiarise yourself with it. Now, off to bed,
pip pip."
The prefects led the students from the hall, and more than
a few shot Harry a glance as they did so.
Despite believing, hoping even, that his fame would wane
over the years, it hadn't.
If anything, it only grew the more obscure his feats became
with the passing generations.
With a sigh, he readied himself for another trying yet
interesting year as he headed towards the dungeons to greet
the Slytherins.
As their head of house, they needed to meet him personally
before lessons began the next day.
(Break)
Already, Hogwarts had completely blown away Hermione
Granger's expectations. From the train ride to her first
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glance at the castle as she crossed the lake in the enchanted
boats, she had been mesmerised.
Having been shown around the Gryffindor common room
and where she would be sleeping for the next seven years,
she had joined her fellow new arrivals in front of the
fireplace and was listening to their conversation with rapt
attention.
"Did you see him?" Ron Weasley asked excitedly. "He really
teaches here. My dad said he stopped him at the Ministry
to speak with him, and even now he asks about us all."
"Come on, Ron, it's just Harry," Neville Longbottom
sighed.
"Just Harry?" Ron asked, aghast that Neville was being so
dismissive.
Neville nodded.
"He visits my grandparents quite often," he explained.
"What's he like?" the Irish Seamus Finnegan asked.
Neville shrugged.
"He's just a normal bloke."
"Normal he says," Ron snorted.
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Hermione was confused.
"Excuse me, are you talking about Professor Evans?" she
asked.
Ron appeared as though she had taken leave of her senses.
"Harry Evans, probably the most famous wizard in the
world?"
Hermione nodded apologetically.
"She's a muggleborn, Ron," Neville reminded the redhead.
Ron's ears turned red.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"It's okay," Hermione replied with a smile. "I just don't
know who he is."
"Well, Professor Evans is famous for defeating
Grindelwald," Neville informed her. "He was a really dark
wizard that tried to take over the world. Professor Evans
killed him."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"Killed him?" she whispered.
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"And Voldemort," Dean Thomas broke in. "He was another
dark wizard that tried to take over the Ministry. Harry
Evans got him too."
"And he teaches in a school?"
Dean placed a hand on her shoulder.
"The wizarding world and muggle are different in many
ways," he explained. "Harry Evans is a hero to everyone. If
it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here now, and the muggle
word would be controlled by Grindelwald."
"Really?"
The boys nodded collectively.
"He's really nice," Neville assured her, "and we will learn so
much from him."
Hermione remained sceptical but would reserve judgement
until she met the man.
"Wait, you said he is friends with your grandparents?"
"He went to school with my grandmother," Neville
explained. "They were both Gryffindors."
Hermione frowned confusedly.
"How old is your grandmother?"
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"In her seventies," Neville replied. "Why?"
"So, Professor Evans, the man who was sitting at the staff
table is in his seventies?"
"He did defeat Grindelwald in 1943," Neville chuckled.
"He looks younger than my dad," Hermione murmured.
"He's only 38."
"He looks younger than everyone his age," Neville mused
aloud. "My gran doesn't look that young."
"But Evans' wife does," Ron pointed out. "They did meet
here at Hogwarts; it says so on his chocolate frog card."
"Do you mean the Professor Evans who came to speak with
my parents, the transfiguration mistress?" Hermione
scoffed.
Neville nodded once more.
"She cannot be in her seventies!" Hermione denied.
"She's best friends with my gran," Neville pointed out.
Hermione could only shake her head in disbelief.
"Is it because of magic they are so young?"
None of the boys had a definitive answer for her.
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"Maybe," Neville conceded, "but powerful wizards do age
slower. Dumbledore is more than a hundred."
"Really?" Hermione gasped.
"He taught both of the Professor Evans when they were
students."
Hermione was almost speechless at the revelation.
Dumbledore looked old, but not more than a century.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted.
"Welcome to the wizarding world," Dean chuckled. "You're
in for a lot of surprises."
(Break)
Harry had never been so nervous to teach a lesson. Over
the years, he'd had most of the Weasley siblings arrive at
Hogwarts, and even the familiar Nymphadora Tonks, but
this was different, this was mostly the class he had once
been a part of.
Andromeda running away to marry Ted Tonks had not
come as a surprise to him when it had happened, and
though the Blacks had been furious, Harry had looked out
for her, something that Arcturus had eventually been
grateful for when he had gotten over it.
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Her relationship with her family was still fractured, but
Melania, Druella, and her siblings made the effort to stand
by her.
Harry watched as the students filed in, the most noticeable
absence being that of Draco Malfoy.
The marriage between Narcissa and Lucius had never
arisen, the former having been matched with one of
Rosalina's nephews.
The thought of his mentor still brought a lump to Harry's
throat.
Rosalina had become deathly ill some years prior, and
though he had pooled every resource he could into creating
a cure for what ailed her, his efforts had ultimately failed.
It was a stark reminder that he was still but a man, even if
most others wished to believe otherwise.
He and Rosa had been with Rosalina until the very end.
She had smiled at them both proudly, an unusual gesture
and told them how proud she was to have been a part of
their lives.
To Harry, it had been like losing a mother, and it was
something he would never truly get over.
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"Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts
lesson," he greeted the first year Gryffindor and Slytherin
students. "For those of you that do not know, I am
Professor Evans, the head of Slytherin house, and your
instructor in this classroom. Over the next seven years, I
will teach you not only how to identify and defend
yourselves against the unsavoury elements of magic, but
how to defend yourselves from those that would attack you.
Yes, Clara?"
The newly minted Slytherin had raised her hand.
"Will you be teaching us how to defend against the
Unforgivables?"
"In a few years," Harry replied. "We have lots of things to
cover before we get there. Today, we will begin with an
introduction into what the Dark Arts are, and why they are
considered dark, and if you even consider removing your
wand, Mr Crabbe, I will see that you do not have access it
for the rest of the year."
The boy paled at having been caught attempting to point it
towards the side of the room the Gryffindors were seated,
and Harry released a deep breath.
Try as he might, he had not been able to fully mend the rift
between the two houses.
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Some things had indeed irrevocably changed over the years,
but others seemingly never would, and though Harry was
looking forward to what the next years would bring in lieu
of what he had experienced his first time here, he had no
doubt that not all his future experiences would be happy
ones.
(Break)
August 2105
The funeral of Albus Dumbledore was only one of many
that Rosa had attended throughout her century and a half
of life. The headmaster had remained at his post until the
day he had passed and had simply refused to do so whilst
the school year was in session.
The Minister, whomever that was now, had all but insisted
the man be buried on the grounds of Hogwarts, but her
father had made a rare, public appearance to ensure Albus
was buried with his family in Godric's Hollow.
Her mother had already been named as Headmistress, and
Rosa had agreed to replace her as the transfiguration
professor, despite what she deemed to be her advancing
years.
For being more than 150 years old, she felt no worse than
when she had turned sixty, and though she had never
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remarried nor had any children, she never felt that her life
had been lacking.
Her Quidditch career had been a successful one, and the
memories of obtaining her accolades over the years were
ones that remained fond.
Rosa's playing days were long behind her now, but there
was nothing that would keep her from flying frequently.
Flying had been her first love, after all.
Even her father still did so, and still to this day insisted on
being the very first to use whatever prototypes Nimbus or
Firebolt produced.
The man was nearing two centuries old, and yet, none
would ever believe it if he wasn't so well known in their
world.
Only now did he begin to resemble a man who was
reaching his middling years, the first greys marring his
black hair and beard.
Rosa watched as he muttered some parting words over
Albus's grave.
They had not always seen eye-to-eye, but they had
respected each other greatly.
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"Let's go," Harry urged as he returned to Rosa and her
mother.
At their ages, death had become so familiar to them, and
her mother and father were undoubtedly now the last of
their generation.
Rosa remembered all of the funerals they had attended;
Charlus, Arcturus, Reg, Gilbert, and all of their spouses
that had passed on.
Augusta and Poppy even, two of the deaths that would
affect her mother the worst.
The generation that followed them were also gone; The
Blacks, though Rosa did not mourn for Walburga, and even
the children, and their children.
James, Sirius, Bella, Andromeda, and Narcissa were gone.
Lily…
The redhead's death had been the most painful for Rosa to
endure.
She and the woman had always remained close, and though
Rosa had not had children of her own, losing Lily Potter
was nothing short of losing a daughter.
All of the deaths, and yet the Evans family continued on.
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All of her siblings had lost their spouses by now, none of
them able to match the longevity her family seemed to
have.
Jack now lived alone in what had once been the
McGonagall grandparent's home, unable to remain in his
own after his wife had passed.
He had not been the same since Aurelia had died, but he
was coping as best he could by dedicating himself to
tutoring a duelling club at Hogwarts and travelling during
the summer months.
Iris and Dahlia had followed suit, returning to the life they
had lived upon graduating from Hogwarts.
Britain held painful memories for both women, and it
wasn't often they returned, but when they did, it was to the
family home with their parents where Rosa had remained.
Jasmine had returned to Hogwarts throughout the years,
and when Lily had eventually retired having given birth to
four children who had given her nine grandchildren
between them, she had taken the potions mistress post
permanently.
Rosa released a deep breath as her gaze trailed across the
graveyard.
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The next time she would be here would be for either one of
her parents' funerals, her siblings, or even her own.
Still, that day wasn't today, and though her later years were
plagued with grim and unpleasant moments, she was yet
full of life, still here, and still breathing.
(Break)
December 2335
It was seldom now that either Minerva or Harry left their
home, both having retired around a century before to enjoy
what they had believed to be their final years together.
Harry had never truly understood Nicholas when he said
that the world had become something he no longer
recognised, something he didn't care for, not until the same
thoughts had crept up on him.
Slowly but surely, it had changed around them until little of
what they had come to know remained.
Now, he understood Nicholas and Perenelle better than he
ever had, though he wished such a realisation had not been
so costly.
For more than four centuries he and Minerva had lived
whilst they had watched those they cared deeply for pass
on, even their own children.
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Jasmine had been gone for almost two centuries now, and
Jack had followed a few decades or so after.
Harry could no longer remember how much time had
passed.
The twins had gone too, Iris following Dahlia only a few
days after her passing around a century and a half ago, and
Rosa, their firstborn, had been the last a little over a
hundred years past.
So much love and heartache, and yet, Harry struggled to
remember their faces with how long ago it seemed.
Still, the joy they had felt throughout their lives had stayed
with him just as much as the pain of losing them, and both
he and Minerva clung to both.
He remembered kissing each of them on the forehead
before each breathed their last, to see them off on to their
next great adventure, as Albus would say.
Harry felt Minerva's frail grip tighten around his forearm,
pulling him from his thoughts.
"I always thought you knew what you had done," he
murmured as he looked upon Nicholas's grave, "that you
were having a laugh at my expense. Albus believed so too,
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but I think you miscalculated. I know you would have never
done this to me, not on purpose."
Minerva gave him a sad smile as he turned towards her, her
lined and aged face as beautiful to him as it had ever been.
"Shall we?"
Minerva nodded, and Harry activated his portkey, the same
one he had carried with him since he had been a hit-wizard.
They arrived in Godric's Hollow a moment later, and
though they were not as fit or nimble as they had once
been, they shuffled their way hand in hand through the
kissing gates of the cemetery towards the place the
generations of Evans' rested.
Side by side, their children had been buried; Jasmine, Jack,
the twins, and Rosa, their graves immaculately kept.
"It had never crossed my mind that we would be here
without them," Minerva whispered.
Harry nodded.
His wife echoed the same words every time they visited,
something they had learned not to do too often.
Their children would be furious if they believed they were
wallowing in the past, but there was little else for them to
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do now.
Harry and Minerva had watched as friends came and went,
as babies grew into adults and followed suit, too many times
to count.
"It will be us next," Minerva whispered, her eyes brimming
with tears. "There's no one else left."
"A small mercy I am grateful for."
Minerva nodded her agreement before tutting as she took
in the sight of the wilted roses adorning the graves of their
children.
Neither had planted them there, but they had grown,
nonetheless.
It reminded Harry of the field that he and Grindelwald had
fought in all those decades ago, and the songs the locals
sung about the roses, how they thrived when everything
else had been dead.
He had come to hate and adore the flowers equally, but
stilled Minerva's hand as she raised her wand to bring them
back to life.
"Leave them," he urged.
"They're dead, Harry," Minerva pointed out.
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Comments (5)
He nodded as his eyes trailed over where his children rested
before turning away and leading his wife back towards the
gate.
Neither can live whilst the other survives
Harry had lived.
He'd had children, grandchildren, and several generations
that had followed, but now, he'd seen enough, and he knew
Minerva had too.
They'd laughed and cried in equal measures, had loved one
another unwaveringly for more years than either could
count. They had lived several lives in one, and for the good
and the bad that had come with it, they'd experienced it all.
Wrapping his arms around Minerva's shoulder, Harry
looked back at the drooping flowers a final time.
"They are dead," he agreed, "and if there is indeed any
mercy left in this world, we will not be here when they
bloom again."
Newest First
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I was looking forward to a happy ending and I got that but
it was also sad. Why? Amazing work tho and can't wait to
read your new story.
Just wrire the next one already! Thanks
Thank you Mr. BARON REALLY THANK YOU!!!!
fantastic chapter baron, and a great finish to a remarkable
work of art!
keep up the good work
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Author/Site Owner: Lee : TheBlack'sResurgence
Email: (For all enquiries)
When the Roses Bloom
Again - Where it all Began (Part Two)
Beautiful ending
Charlus_099 37 minutes ago · 0 Likes
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