Harry Potter #7
Chapter #?
Voldemort's
Final Downfall
Part 5:
The Story Told
All was perfectly dark and silent. Yet, strangely, Harry felt happy. A happiness unlike he had ever known flowed through him. He felt at home; surrounded by those he loved most. Though not seeing with his physical eyes, Harry could somehow see his parents, Sirius, Cedric, and hundreds of others, including Padma, all standing around him, shouting for joy. Harry could not have asked for a happier day.
He felt his mother's warm smile, her cheek against his as they embraced lovingly; her whisper, "I love you," resounding to the core of his being. All was perfectly right and Harry never wanted it to end.
Being with Cedric again made everything come in full circle. Had it really been three years since his death? Harry wondered to himself how time could possibly appear to be long; all his memories seemed compacted within a mere instant.
Sirius' smile was as grand as ever. But then he said something that made Harry's heart break. "You have to go," he said, still beaming with love and appreciation, "You should not be here. Go, Sir Gryffindor. For as you have been told, it is not who we are born that decides who we are; it is our choices." Then before Harry could ask him what he meant or protest his leaving, Sirius laid his hand on his shoulder and, grinning warmly said, "Go."
"HARRY!"
Now everything was dark and miserable. The back of Harry's head throbbed nastily and his back felt horribly uncomfortable on the cold stone floor. Someone was over him, shaking him and calling his name. But Harry felt too worn out to open his eyes. Instead, he tightened his eyelids and reached up to rub them.
The voice Harry recognized as Luna's made a sound of relief that was mingled in tears. "He's alive!" she exclaimed.
A sigh of relief came from Hermione too, but she seemed farther away. Harry blinked his eyes open only to see a terribly burred image of Luna leaning over him. It wasn't long before he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. He groaned and started searching for them.
"Oh, your glasses," Luna said mistily through many tears of joy, "they flew off when you were thrown back."
"Huh?" Harry said while gently rubbing a lump on the back of his head, "Wha… What happened?"
Hermione was holding Harry's glasses and strode toward him ("Oculus Repairo!"). Despite the blur, Harry could see that as she came to the bottom of the steps, she looked grave and didn't want to look him in the eye. It was as if she was astonished by something she wouldn't let herself believe.
As Harry graciously took his glasses from Hermione, Luna took a deep breath. "It was really…really quite amazing, Harry…" she said.
Now seeing his surroundings well enough, Harry gazed around the room in astonishment. Black cloaks were laid everywhere; strewn about the room this way and that. On each cloak was a bright green image of the Dark Mark and with them was a mask with small slits for eyeholes.
"So what happened?" Harry breathed quietly as he spun around. Looking to what Harry was expecting to be an open archway where the veil once hung, he did a double-take at the sight of the black veil, moving slightly as it always had. Luna and Hermione exchanged looks and behind them, Harry saw Ron shaking head vigorously, like he was trying to fully wake up.
Hermione dove into the story. "Just as you and Voldemort were fighting outside the veil, Death Eaters began to pour into the room." she said. "They wanted to get you, but they were afraid that if they hit you with a spell, they'd get their master as well. So Luna and I raised our wands to attack, when… well, uh…" She trailed off.
"When what?" asked Harry.
"When you and Voldemort fell through." said Luna simply. "You see, Harry, when Voldemort tore down the veil, every power from behind it, uh… spilled out."
"No, more like shot out!" Hermione added hastily, "There was a bright white beam that blasted out of the archway both directions as the rip lengthened! When the light consumed the room and disappeared, the next thing we knew, every Death Eater was gone, the veil was drifting to a stop as if a wind had just ceased, and, to our surprise, you were lying on the floor!"
Harry blinked several times, trying but failing to comprehend this. He wasn't sure he wanted to. After all, he had had such a wonderful dream of those who had been killed by Voldemort – and even those who weren't! It almost made him feel more comfortable to think it as nothing more than that: a dream. A dream that Harry would forever keep within his heart. But something was still puzzling him. "Hang on, Hermione," Harry said, "How did the veil get back up?"
Hermione shrugged. "We don't know…"
Once Ron (who according to Luna had been woken by the flash of light) could think straight, the four decided to set out for the higher levels of in the Ministry building, to a place where they could apparate, seeing as Hermione didn't want her old Arithmancy book used as a Portkey again. None of them said anything, and Harry wished Voldemort had done away with the calm female voice in the lift. It spoke as if nothing had happened; as if thousands of lives had not been needlessly lost.
When the lift clanged to a halt, the female voice began, "The Atriu—" before it was drowned out but a deafening cheer. All four gazed open-mouthed at the scene before them.
Hundreds of witches and wizards were gathered; crunched tightly in the large room and many were up on higher balconies. They were whooping and clapping their hands, shooting small fireworks from their wands, and cheering as loud as they could. Harry looked at them but didn't focus on their faces until his eyes rested on a pair bright blue ones behind a pair of half-moon spectacles.
"D-Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed. Ron and Hermione's heads darted to Dumbledore's face. He was the most welcome sight they had seen all year. And even though he was only in Azkaban for a few hours, Harry felt like he hadn't seen him in years.
Dumbledore raised his hands to silence the crowd behind him, which took several minutes. During which time, Hermione and Ron hugged each other and Luna's hand found Harry's.
"It's finished, then." She said simply.
Harry sighed. Now he wasn't focusing on anything. It was over. Voldemort and all his followers were gone. He vaguely heard Dumbledore announcing to the crowd that when the cleansing power from behind the veil had been released, it defeated Voldemort, his followers, all evil creatures that had served him, and had wiped away his Dark Marks from all the Earth.
Harry found that he felt strangely like a character in a film he had once seen while at Hermione's house the previous year in which at the end, the character had avenged his father's death, and then didn't know what to do, now that his life's pursuit was over. "Have you ever considered Piracy?" the man next to the character had asked, "You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts." Harry laughed heartily and shook his head; it was over, and now he could at least comprehend it.
The people surrounded Harry and Luna, and to his astonishment, there were even Muggles mixed into the group, with magically charmed news cameras and microphones. Harry personally hoped that back in Little Whinging, the Dursleys could see this on TV! Then Luna did something that made him feel like he was flying: she hugged him and kissed him lightly on the lips.
It wasn't long before Harry realized he had in fact been lifted into the air as two people carried him on their shoulders. He wanted to get back down to be with Ron, Hermione, and particularly Luna, and lucky for him, the crowd was too thick to move him through, so his carriers only held him up and cheered. Harry's eyes were constantly blinded by both Muggle and wizard cameras, and he looked to Dumbledore, who was raising a golden goblet that he had conjured. As Hermione and Ron embraced and (to Harry's astonishment and delight) even shared a quick kiss, the room fell silent.
"To Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted, "The Boy Who Lived!"
Cheers erupted from the crowd once more, more fervent and jubilant than ever before. Hundreds of goblets appeared in each person's hand and they, along with every wizard and witch across the world, raised their goblets to Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived!
* * *
Harry Potter entered the Minister's office. "You wished to speak with me, Sir?"
"Yes, Harry. Come, come. Take a seat." Minister Albus Dumbledore said, inviting Harry to his desk where a woman was already seated with her back to Harry. She had reddish-brown hair that went to her shoulders, and Harry guessed she was in her late twenties. Harry waved his wand and conjured a chair out of thin air beside the woman, who twitched slightly as she gazed in wonder at it.
"How is your life fairing these days?" Dumbledore asked, sitting behind his desk, Is Ms. Lovegood…?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, she's still a Lovegood. But… but we're thinking about it."
"And the Weasleys?"
"Oh, they're doing just fine," Harry said, "I believe they went to Egypt to celebrate their first anniversary. Hermione knows everything about it from reading and Ron knows quite a bit from his brother, so no doubt they're having a great time."
Dumbledore smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. "And your work in the Department?" he asked solemnly.
Harry bowed his head in a sort of reverence. "It's…" Harry began, "It's moving forward… Any time now the veil will be sealed. And that'll be that."
Silence followed for a few seconds before Harry spoke again.
"How goes the Memory Charming?" he asked.
"It is nearly completed." Dumbledore said with a quick glance at the woman to Harry's right. "Just a few minor touches to the Muggles' historical records should be sufficient. Oh, please forgive me." He added to the woman when she sent him a slight scowl.
Harry ignored the last comment. "It's been nearly four years!" Harry blurted, "It shouldn't take this long, should it?"
Dumbledore sighed tiredly, "No, Harry, it really shouldn't." He stopped for a moment before going on. "But that would only be true if I hadn't been searching for a — how shall I put this — a certain 'bridge', if you will, between the two worlds."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore was looking directly at the woman now, and a slight smile fell across his face as he turned back to Harry.
"Harry," Dumbledore began, "The terror spread by Lord Voldemort among the Non-Wizard society was perhaps the worst way possible to share our existence with the rest of the world. That is why we at the Ministry of Magic have attempted this world-wide Memory Charm expedition."
"Yes, I know." Harry said.
Dumbledore leaded forward and looked deep into Harry's eyes over his half-moon spectacles, the way he always had. "And as you have seen, Harry," Dumbledore continued, "breaking the truth to someone through writing has almost always been the best way."
Harry scowled in thoughtfulness. "What are you getting at, Sir?" he asked.
Dumbledore smiled and leaned back again, his fingers absentmindedly stroking his beard. After an eternal minute, Dumbledore said, "Harry Potter, I'd like you to meet a very good friend of mine, Joanne. Joanne, Harry Potter."
Harry finally turned to the woman sitting beside him and extended his hand. She shook it nervously and Harry said, "Hello."
"Hi." The woman replied, seemingly awestruck to be in Harry's presence.
"Uh, Mr. Dumbledore, Sir, what does this have to do with any—"
"Harry," interrupted Dumbledore, "I went searching high and low for a Muggle that had not yet been charmed. Not only has Joanne not been charmed, but she also has the talents I have been searching for and they are unlike any I have seen before."
"Oh, stop it." said Joanne, blushing furiously.
Dumbledore winked. "She is perfect for the job." He continued.
"What job?" Harry asked, more puzzled than ever.
"To slowly and carefully spread the message of our existence to the world through writing." Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.
"Alright," Harry said, still looking at the ground, deep in thought. "But what does this have to do with me?"
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore beamed, "what better way to tell the Muggles about us than through the memories of a certain boy named Harry Potter? A boy who grew up like every other Muggle only to find he's a wizard! A boy who, like everyone else, faced hardship after hardship, but unlike everyone else, conquered each of those hardships one by one! Why not tell the world of The Boy Who Lived so that as he learned of the magical world step by step, the reader may do likewise?"
Harry was both confused and shocked. He almost thought his scar was hurting again, but it was just a throbbing headache coming on. After a moment, Harry asked, "You mean like a biography?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "A bit more detailed than that. And in more of a story form, as is Joanne's style." His eye twinkled once more at the woman.
"How will she do that?" Harry asked, turning to the woman and back to Dumbledore, "Wouldn't it be better if I wrote my own story of my life?"
Again Dumbledore leaned forward to look Harry straight in the eye. "No." Dumbledore said simply. "No, it wouldn't. As you have learned many times, Harry, I have my reasons. Let it be enough to tell you again that Joanne here has precisely the talent I need for your story and therefore for our ways to be spread throughout the earth. This way it will be written, too, so that it may never again be forgotten, or misunderstood. Besides, she's a Muggle, and you are not."
Harry was about to argue as to how that last statement made any difference, but he held his tongue. He knew better than to start an argument with Dumbledore.
"But how will she do this? I've never even met her before!" Harry said.
"Do you remember the Pensieve you gave me last year? It will tell her everything she needs to know."
"And much more!" Harry bellowed, rising to his feet.
"Don't worry, Mr. Potter," Joanne said as gently as possible, "I will only write what will be needed."
Harry's fists clenched and relaxed several times before he finally said, "Ok, but I'm agreeing to this only because I'd trust Dumbledore with my life — my life that's about to be read all over the world…"
"Indeed it will, Harry," said Dumbledore, stroking his chin and leaning back once more, "indeed it will."
A few minutes later, Harry was excused to continue working on the bottom-most level in the Ministry and Joanne departed to begin work on the story Dumbledore wanted her to write, a bowl with silvery liquid with a fitting top on it under her arms.
Along the train ride to London, Joanne took her seat and dug in her bag for a pen. She had already spent some time observing Harry's life, and felt the time was right to begin taking notes to eventually reintroduce wizardry to the world. Once she found her pen and some scratch paper, she wrote on the top of it, "Harry Potter: By Joanne Kathleen—" she stopped, thought better of it, scribbled out her name and instead wrote, "—By J. K. Rowling".
Her notes of his life from the little of the Pensieve she'd seen began as thus:
Harry James Potter is also known in the world of wizards and witches as The Boy Who Lived. This being because of his defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort at age one. Voldemort (A.K.A. You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) was reduced to a pitiful existence, yet Harry Potter survived the Dark Lord's curse with no more than a scar…
The End
Horrendous Amount of Author's Notes: This story of Harry Potter is NOT mine! What you have just read is simply some nice speculation of mine as to how the seventh book MIGHT end. I hope you enjoyed it!
Also, you saw that I put in some romance (lightly, but it was still there) between Harry and Luna. My main reason for this is because of the scene near the end of Book 5 when the two are talking in the hallway about Sirius, the veil, and Luna's books being lost. Harry feels sorry for her and sorry that he ever called her "Looney" Lovegood. Plus, I think that someone who had an entire chapter named after them will really come to have a significant role in a later book. I also wonder if Luna holds a small crush for Harry in the fifth book (at least!). I'm certain that Ron and Hermione will end up together (just look at Lily and James!) and although I didn't put this anywhere, I think that Neville and Ginny might have a chance. I really don't know, though.
Thank you very much for taking the time to read this, and please review! Now that I'm finally finished, I can take a breath; focus on real life, college, and an original story of my own. Once again, thank you for reading!
--Seglotash