Epilogue
Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,
I am writing to apologise for my actions with regard to your son Ron. When we were told Hermione was dying, we both looked for comfort in different places. I began a relationship with Draco Malfoy, a relationship of which Ron strongly disapproved. I disregarded his suspicions, and we argued. Ron managed to find a letter that he felt proved that Draco was using me, but wanted to be sure he wasn't arriving at conclusions too hastily and allowing his own dislike for Draco to prejudice him. He did not mention the letter to me, but told Draco secretly. He arranged to meet Draco at the top of the main stairs at two in the morning, bringing the letter with him, so that Draco could explain. Draco used the Imperious Curse on him and made Ron hang himself so that I would not be aware of his treachery. The only reason I am now aware of his part (and so my part) in Ron's death is that while I was here in the summer I stole Ron's diaries from his trunk and read his account of the events. The Ministry have the diaries now as they are evidence of a murder, but they will be sent to you when the Ministry release them.
I know that being sorry isn't good enough, but it's the best I can do. I should have listened to Ron, but I didn't believe what he tried to tell me, and he paid the price. Your son was good and brave, and I hope this information allows you to remember him with less pain, as you were in no way to blame for his death.
Yours sincerely
Harry Potter
Harry re-read the letter, trying to see if he'd left anything out. The basic details of his defeat of Voldemort were common knowledge, even just two days after the attack, but Harry wanted to make sure that the Weasleys knew what had really happened to Ron before they found out another way. He owed Ron that much, and Ginny too for that matter. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, hoping she'd deliver it safely. The press were even at that moment camped outside. Everyone wanted to get the first interview with The Boy Who Lived, everyone wanted to know why he had been attacked in his own home and how exactly Harry had come to possess the sword of Salazar Slytherin. Harry didn't want to tell them. He didn't know what he could say that would let them know the details they wanted without revealing his affair with Draco. The sword itself had been taken away by the Ministry, and Dumbledore had told him that it would end up in a museum eventually, along with the sword which had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Everything seemed to be settled, no loose ends to tie up, no unfinished business. Everyone could carry on. But Harry wasn't quite sure how to carry on any more. The sudden end to his relationship with Draco seemed unreal. He couldn't quite believe that he was dead, that they would never have spent their lives together. He kept waiting for him to walk in and give him the special smile reserved only for him. Draco's death had destroyed all of Harry's dreams, throwing his plans into disarray. It seemed silly to train as an Auror now. Harry had seen far too much death at close quarters to ever want to kill again. But he didn't have any other ideas either. The last two days had been a blur, but Harry could think of nothing more to do, now this letter had been sent. Three weeks later and he was still just drifting from day to day, making no attempt to organise himself or even think about what to do now. Sirius seemed to accept that Harry didn't know what to do. He treated Harry in exactly the same way as before, talking to him about everyday things when Harry wanted to chat, giving him space when he needed it. Harry felt numb, but he also felt that it was just a question of waiting. If he could get through each day as it came, one day he'd think of something he wanted to do.
Two years later
Harry lay on his stomach on the grass, watching a family on the other side of the park having a picnic. One was a little boy with blond hair, he was screaming with laughter as his dad tickled his stomach.
"Harry?" asked Ginny curiously.
"Hmm?" he said, still watching the child.
"Why did you never tell me about Draco?"
Harry rolled over and sat up to look at her.
"Because I thought his father would kill him if he knew, and I didn't want him dead. I also didn't want you to hate me."
"I would have understood," said Ginny. The sunlight in Harry's eyes made him unable to see her face clearly, but he could hear the hurt in her voice.
"I know, but..." he said, even two years later unable to explain his feelings.
"You're my friend, after Ron died one of my closest friends. I didn't want to lose you. I still don't."
"You won't," said Ginny with certainty. "We'll always be friends Harry."
"I know," he said thankfully. "Travel through life side by side and so on."
"Not literally though, since you're going to France next week, but in theory." said Ginny, laughing slightly to try and dispel the sombre mood. Harry laughed obligingly and rolled back onto his stomach. The child was now eating a sandwich, getting crumbs all down his front.
"I've got to go, I'm meeting Dan in an hour." said Ginny cheerfully, getting to her feet.
"I'll phone you later." said Harry easily. "I'd better get going myself - lots to do."
The two walked companionably to the gate.
"Give Dan a kiss for me," said Harry with a laugh.
"Hands off my boyfriend!" said Ginny, giving him a playful shove.
"You think he'd be interested?" asked Harry teasingly.
"No, and he's mine!"
"No fair," pouted Harry, taking their usual game to its usual end.
"Bye," laughed Ginny. Harry stood and watched her go, a tall girl with striking red hair, silhouetted in the sunlight. Then he shrugged and turned away. He'd phone her later after all, and he did have lots to do. The future looked bright for Harry Potter.
But before walking away, he looked back at the happy family with the blond child, not seeing them at all but instead a long ago meeting by a lake, and the feel of warm arms around him.
The End
There you go, a sort of happy ending for you! Please review, and anyone who wants to put this on their favourite stories will quite probably be worshipped for ever! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the other parts, and I'd love to get 150 reviews for Christmas! Anyone who wants to check out my fic about Narcissa (Black Eyes, Blue Tears, vaguely based around the Shania Twain song) in which she gets pregnant with a baby Lucius doesn't want is more than welcome, as no-one's read that for ages.
Harry Christmas everyone!
Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,
I am writing to apologise for my actions with regard to your son Ron. When we were told Hermione was dying, we both looked for comfort in different places. I began a relationship with Draco Malfoy, a relationship of which Ron strongly disapproved. I disregarded his suspicions, and we argued. Ron managed to find a letter that he felt proved that Draco was using me, but wanted to be sure he wasn't arriving at conclusions too hastily and allowing his own dislike for Draco to prejudice him. He did not mention the letter to me, but told Draco secretly. He arranged to meet Draco at the top of the main stairs at two in the morning, bringing the letter with him, so that Draco could explain. Draco used the Imperious Curse on him and made Ron hang himself so that I would not be aware of his treachery. The only reason I am now aware of his part (and so my part) in Ron's death is that while I was here in the summer I stole Ron's diaries from his trunk and read his account of the events. The Ministry have the diaries now as they are evidence of a murder, but they will be sent to you when the Ministry release them.
I know that being sorry isn't good enough, but it's the best I can do. I should have listened to Ron, but I didn't believe what he tried to tell me, and he paid the price. Your son was good and brave, and I hope this information allows you to remember him with less pain, as you were in no way to blame for his death.
Yours sincerely
Harry Potter
Harry re-read the letter, trying to see if he'd left anything out. The basic details of his defeat of Voldemort were common knowledge, even just two days after the attack, but Harry wanted to make sure that the Weasleys knew what had really happened to Ron before they found out another way. He owed Ron that much, and Ginny too for that matter. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, hoping she'd deliver it safely. The press were even at that moment camped outside. Everyone wanted to get the first interview with The Boy Who Lived, everyone wanted to know why he had been attacked in his own home and how exactly Harry had come to possess the sword of Salazar Slytherin. Harry didn't want to tell them. He didn't know what he could say that would let them know the details they wanted without revealing his affair with Draco. The sword itself had been taken away by the Ministry, and Dumbledore had told him that it would end up in a museum eventually, along with the sword which had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Everything seemed to be settled, no loose ends to tie up, no unfinished business. Everyone could carry on. But Harry wasn't quite sure how to carry on any more. The sudden end to his relationship with Draco seemed unreal. He couldn't quite believe that he was dead, that they would never have spent their lives together. He kept waiting for him to walk in and give him the special smile reserved only for him. Draco's death had destroyed all of Harry's dreams, throwing his plans into disarray. It seemed silly to train as an Auror now. Harry had seen far too much death at close quarters to ever want to kill again. But he didn't have any other ideas either. The last two days had been a blur, but Harry could think of nothing more to do, now this letter had been sent. Three weeks later and he was still just drifting from day to day, making no attempt to organise himself or even think about what to do now. Sirius seemed to accept that Harry didn't know what to do. He treated Harry in exactly the same way as before, talking to him about everyday things when Harry wanted to chat, giving him space when he needed it. Harry felt numb, but he also felt that it was just a question of waiting. If he could get through each day as it came, one day he'd think of something he wanted to do.
Two years later
Harry lay on his stomach on the grass, watching a family on the other side of the park having a picnic. One was a little boy with blond hair, he was screaming with laughter as his dad tickled his stomach.
"Harry?" asked Ginny curiously.
"Hmm?" he said, still watching the child.
"Why did you never tell me about Draco?"
Harry rolled over and sat up to look at her.
"Because I thought his father would kill him if he knew, and I didn't want him dead. I also didn't want you to hate me."
"I would have understood," said Ginny. The sunlight in Harry's eyes made him unable to see her face clearly, but he could hear the hurt in her voice.
"I know, but..." he said, even two years later unable to explain his feelings.
"You're my friend, after Ron died one of my closest friends. I didn't want to lose you. I still don't."
"You won't," said Ginny with certainty. "We'll always be friends Harry."
"I know," he said thankfully. "Travel through life side by side and so on."
"Not literally though, since you're going to France next week, but in theory." said Ginny, laughing slightly to try and dispel the sombre mood. Harry laughed obligingly and rolled back onto his stomach. The child was now eating a sandwich, getting crumbs all down his front.
"I've got to go, I'm meeting Dan in an hour." said Ginny cheerfully, getting to her feet.
"I'll phone you later." said Harry easily. "I'd better get going myself - lots to do."
The two walked companionably to the gate.
"Give Dan a kiss for me," said Harry with a laugh.
"Hands off my boyfriend!" said Ginny, giving him a playful shove.
"You think he'd be interested?" asked Harry teasingly.
"No, and he's mine!"
"No fair," pouted Harry, taking their usual game to its usual end.
"Bye," laughed Ginny. Harry stood and watched her go, a tall girl with striking red hair, silhouetted in the sunlight. Then he shrugged and turned away. He'd phone her later after all, and he did have lots to do. The future looked bright for Harry Potter.
But before walking away, he looked back at the happy family with the blond child, not seeing them at all but instead a long ago meeting by a lake, and the feel of warm arms around him.
The End
There you go, a sort of happy ending for you! Please review, and anyone who wants to put this on their favourite stories will quite probably be worshipped for ever! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the other parts, and I'd love to get 150 reviews for Christmas! Anyone who wants to check out my fic about Narcissa (Black Eyes, Blue Tears, vaguely based around the Shania Twain song) in which she gets pregnant with a baby Lucius doesn't want is more than welcome, as no-one's read that for ages.
Harry Christmas everyone!