Goodnight, Stars
Epilogue
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Grrr. I accidentally doubled my last chapter, and, apparently, you can't delete the last chapter of a story. So, because I don't want 2 of the same chapters, I've split the "Thanks" and "Epilogue" up. Sorry about that!
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Ok, here it is. I'm not posting an entire chapter as an epilogue, but here is a little bit to finish it off…I hope I didn't overdo it! I'd really prefer if you thought of this as added info or something, keeping the ending of my story as last chapter.
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Epilogue
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"…Goodnight to the stars that twinkle in the sky. Oh, my darling baby, I love you more than you'll ever know." Light poured into the dark space. A painful ring echoed through Harry's ears as he shot up, awakening to find himself in Professor Binns' classroom. Harry rubbed his eyes; it certainly wasn't the first time he had dosed off during History of Magic, but the dream, or whatever had occurred in his mind during the sleep, had been extremely strange. Not that it was unpleasant. No, not by any means; though it had been somewhat haunting. It was nothing like the dreams that had filled his mind during 5th year; in fact, it wasn't really much of anything. There had been a voice, clear and vivid, one Harry immediately recognized. It had been the same voice that had greeted him from Voldemort's wand, the same tone that sent piercing chills up his spine when a dementor was near. It was light, and full of life. It was his mother's. As Professor Binns began to explain the assignment for that evening, the simple words that had been imprinted in his mind during the dream began to float off, just as dreams tend to do. The professor glided across the blackboard, signaling the dismissal of class. Harry packed up his parchment, without a sound, and walked quickly out of the room. Ron and Hermione, his closest of friends, caught up with him in the hall. They had been quite worried as they watched Harry wake, startled, from his sleep. Hermione was nervous that Voldemort had found another way to penetrate his mind, and Ron was quite worried that Harry had foreseen some tragic event, recalling in his mind what had occurred with the snake and his father.
"No." Harry said simply, an answer to his friends' questions regarding Voldemort. "I reckon that dream had little to do with Voldemort." His thoughts were still on hearing his departed mother's voice. The voice refused to leave his mind, random and displaced words echoing through his thoughts.
"That's good, mate, because I'm starved." Ron said, gripping Hermione's hand as they made their way towards the Great Hall. Hermione shot Ron a look of disgust, her eyes still fixated on Harry's. They were glassy, clouded, and Hermione, for once, was at a loss for words. Before she could say anything, Harry came to a halt, looking at his friends.
"It wasn't Voldemort, it was my mum."
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