Scipio-
Scipio sat up in his hospital bed in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He'd realized that he'd been here for the last week or so when Dumbledore made a visit to him after his concussion; the only side effect he managed after passing in and out of the veil.
"You should be thankful that that is the only thing that happened to you." Dumbledore replied calmly when Scipio first saw him again.
"How is Sirius? Harry? I need to know how Harry is!"
Dumbledore paused for a moment and breathed deeply, "Sirius is fine, and he is alive and well, as he has been demanding food for the last few days. He's also been demanding to see you, but I think we'll put that off until later. Let's have some porridge, shall we?"
"What about Harry?"
Again, Dumbledore paused, now realizing that he could no longer put off what needed to be said, he sighed and began. "Harry, for the past week, has been in a coma. Nobody is sure what happened to him, exactly. All we know is that he stayed conscious enough to retrieve both you and Sirius from behind the veil."
"When will he come out of it?" Scipio muttered, unable to get most of the words out.
"We believe in another month or so, it is too early to see any vital signs-"
"A month or so. Then I will wait, but take me to see my father."
Dumbledore led Scipio down the hall and into the recovery unit, where he knocked lightly on the first door and waited.
"Come in," a deep raspy voice called out from inside the room.
Dumbledore walked into the room with ease, but Scipio was still unsure. This was the first time he had met his father, how would he look? What would he say?
"Come in, Scipio," Dumbledore announced, and Scipio walked through the door as he took a deep breath. A tall man with long matted hair and heavy bags under his eyes faced Scipio. His deep dark eyes looked at Scipio in awe and he reached forth his hand to touch Scipio's own. Scipio slowly advanced towards the man, extending his hand outwards until the fingertips of both touched and a firm lock of the eyes had been made. As if all sense of time had stopped, he embraced his father and tears began to fall from his eyes. Tears of joy, of sorrow, of pain and angst. Tears that lasted forever in that hospital room.
ONE MONTH, 7 DAYS LATER
Harry-
*I know where I am . . . I'm in the hospital . . .but where is everyone? Where is Ron? Where is Hermione? Where is Sirius . . .and Scipio?*
Harry began to sit up, which required every last ounce of his strength, and narrowed his eyes. The bright florescent colors of the wallpaper burned his eyes and caused him a minor headache. Adjusting his eyes and moving his hands around his end table for his glasses, he picked them up, put them on his face and looked at the people who had fallen asleep upon his room floor.
There was Hermione and Ron, cuddled together on the rug, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, who'd fallen asleep in a rather large oversized recliner, Tonks and Lupin who had easily nestled in by lying in on each other's shoulders, Mad-eye, who remained distant and slept in a corner, Ginny, who'd slept at the end of Harry's bed, Fred and George, who'd developed boils during the night, most likely and a set of snores from a certain two people with long black hair and dark complexions beside the coffee table.
Harry smiled and coughed loudly. Everyone jumped up and looked at Harry, smiled and cheered. Harry smiled and looked into the face of Sirius. He was young again, bags no longer drooped his eyes, a soft smile shown and his hair . . .very much like Scipio's own hair, which led Harry to believe that Scipio had been doing his Dad's hair for the past few. . .
"What's today?" Harry asked, suddenly aware of time.
"February seventh! You've been gone for a month and a week, Harry."
"Wow . . .I hope you all haven't been waiting that long!"
Laughter rang throughout the hospital room as Dumbledore walked in.
"Hello Professor Dumbledore."
"Hello Harry. I'm sorry to kill what seemed to have been a happy moment in time, but I need to speak with you."
"It's alright. Thanks for visiting me, guys . . .I'll be out for breakfast in a few." Harry announced as everyone turned to leave.
"Harry, it's nearly supper time!" Fred and George sniggered.
"Oh . . .well, I'll see you for supper then."
Everyone left the room until only Dumbledore and Harry remained.
"I suppose you need to know what happened Christmas Eve, eh Professor?"
"You'd be right in that assumption, Harry."
And before Harry knew it, the whole tale of what happened Christmas Eve night filled the hospital room, sometimes loud enough where Dumbledore had to tell Harry to bring down his volume. Before long, Dumbledore had stopped listening to Harry and listened to the silence that followed his tale. Sitting down, Dumbledore took a deep breath and began to speak.
"I have never heard such a tale, Harry, not even one from you. I can only imagine that you are as curious as I to know how certain things happened to you. It is now that I accredit your lack of listening skills for the saving of your own life."
"What do you mean?"
"Harry, you didn't finish hearing out what Professor Lupin and I said about the prophecy. It was more gore than you could have imagined."
"Well, what was the ending then?"
"The ending to the prophecy, Harry, was that Scipio would die unless you risked your own existence to set him and his father free from the veil. Harry, the prophecy spoke of your death, the death of an entire world should you have failed. The uprising of the most evil thing known to mankind and the most deadly era in years. You realize now that I could not have risked such a thing, I could never tell Scipio or you that Sirius would die if you didn't save him that night. But never, never did I imagine that Scipio and you would overhear anyway and fulfill the prophecy. Never did I imagine, that by dying, Voldemort gave you the key to saving both Scipio and Sirius's lives. What now puzzles me; greater than anything about your story is why you didn't cease to exist after you rescued your godfather. But as I hear your tale now, I understand it entirely, without a single flaw."
"What is that?"
"I'm sure you remember me telling you once before that there is a room in the Department of Mysteries that always stays locked, and has never been opened. When the ministry came in that next day, the lock had been broken and the door had been left slightly ajar. Harry, you opened that room, you gave to yourself the power of life and resurrected yourself from the very last core of your being, the central character that distinguishes you from Lord Voldemort: love. Love again conquered all, Harry. You stand before us today not as Harry Potter, but as a resurrected being. You've gone through death and seen your way back. You are the only person who has ever managed this in the history of the world. Though it goes beyond all logical thinking, Harry, you've been reborn with that special force rushing through your blood. And again, you become 'the boy who lived'."
Harry lie back upon his pillow and sighed.
"You have yet to defeat the Dark Lord, Harry, and your time draws ever closer each day that you live. The war over death is over. The war for the world continues."
Harry closed his eyes and lie back upon his pillow. "When will it all end, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore mustered the strength to give Harry a false smile as he walked towards the door. "Soon, Harry. Very soon."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and pulled himself out of bed. Now was a time for rejoicing, not worrying about what will come.
For what will come will come anyway.
And what will not, won't. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------
Epilogue -
When Harry and Scipio returned to Hogwarts the following week of Harry's release, news had already spread like wildfire, and soon, the truth about what happened behind the veil was no longer a mystery. News reporters from London, France, Spain, Egypt, and yes; even Venice, Italy, were waiting in lines to interview the famous and renown Harry Potter, Scipio Black and the wrongly accused (and formerly deceased) Sirius Black. It was, by luck entirely that Scipio and Harry passed their end of the year exams, let alone find time to busy in their own lives.
"Harry," Scipio asked one day as he, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry sat in the great hall over breakfast "Would you have done the same thing twice?"
Harry paused for a moment, and thought heavily. "No. I'd have done the same thing infinitely."
Scipio hardly mentioned Draco, saying that he'd heard nothing from him since the day he sold Scipio to Lord Voldemort. As a matter of fact, Draco was not seen at all at school for the remainder of term, but that was not to anyone's misfortune besides Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherins. Among all other houses, the mysterious disappearance of Draco went basically unnoticed.
"I hope he doesn't ever come back, the git!" Ron said, stabbing at his already dissimilated bacon slices and toast.
"I wonder what's happened to him, though . . .perhaps he's finally being home schooled." Hermione wondered aloud as she grabbed the knife from Ron's hands.
"I pity his professor. What a lousy way to live your life . . .teaching Draco in Malfoy Manor. I would know!" Scipio replied as he watched a seventh year Ravenclaw pass their table.
As the school year finally came to its dismal ending, the population of Hogwarts gathered together for the end of the year's meeting in the great hall.
"Fellow students, staff, and anyone else who finds themselves wandering the halls of Hogwarts on a daily basis, yet another year has come and gone, friendships made and some friendships made stronger. Through trials and tribulations, this year has seen it's share of pain, sorrow, and in some cases," Dumbledore paused to look at Harry "resurrection of the human spirit. It is times such as these when we should bond together for the common good rather than the misfortune of others." Dumbledore cleared his throat and dabbed his eyes lightly. "I believe the words of our very own sorting hat said that 'united we stand, divided we fall' and what a true statement that was; because at this precise moment, one of you, one of your fellow classmates, friends and possibly family has recently passed away."
Scipio gasped in horror and put his hands to his face as a teardrop found it's way to the marble floor.
"I am talking, about Draco Malfoy, prefect of the Slytherin house as well as seeker on the quidditch team."
Whispers emerged from all about the great hall, looks of dismay and terror rode upon each face. Ron could only gape and murmur something sorrowful to Hermione, who shook her head and looked downcast.
"Mr. Malfoy, I fear, fought on the side of Lord Voldemort this Christmas past. He sacrificed two of his own fellow students' lives, both of which stand here today to tell their tales, and in the process was inhumanly killed by Lord Voldemort. Mr. Malfoy was a bright young man with a past, a present and a future whose very life was ripped away when he fought on the side of death, hate and intolerable cruelty instead of the side of life, love and all that is right. May he forever be an example of why when in these troubling times, it is always better to die for what is right than to die for an unjust cause. We lift our glasses today to remember Mr. Draco Malfoy."
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and heard the distinguished sobs of Pansy Parkinson and other Slytherin students. He, and the rest of the great hall, lifted their glasses fully out of respect, and not for like, of Draco Malfoy and drank to their own morals and values, each silently praying that they would not see the same path as he.
On the train ride home, Scipio, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny squeezed into one compartment and discussed the upcoming summer.
"Dad reckons you can visit us this year," Scipio piped up, smiling as he said the word 'dad'. "He's gotten a job with the Ministry, a favor that Fudge owed Dumbledore; not that Fudge was a bit too happy about hiring and ex-convict, and we've bought a house in upper Bristol. I mean, think about it guys, I have a house to live in now!"
"As opposed to the canals in Venice?" Ron replied sarcastically.
"Oh shut-up Ron. Don't be upset that I've taken away your summer meet spot. I mean, I know you're jealous of my looks and all, but-"
"Scipio, shut-up." Ginny replied from over the top of her 'Witch Weekly' magazine.
"Ginny, I believe Harry has something to ask you." Scipio announced loudly. Hermione and Ron looked back and forth at each other, secretly exchanging glances and horribly disguised smiles. Ginny blushed and looked at Harry, who only flushed about ten shades before he could manage to speak.
"Er- Ginny, I um, I er . . .would you fancy to be my girlfriend?" Harry asked, addressing the bottom of his shoes rather than Ginny herself. Ginny giggled and looked Harry in the eyes.
"I would fancy being your girlfriend, Harold James Potter." And she gave Harry the softest kiss on the lips that Harry had ever experienced from a girl before.
The kiss exchange went on and on until the train finally arrived at King's Station and everyone gathered their luggage and prepared their 'good- byes' for the summer months ahead. Harry and Scipio walked over to the side of the platform and greeted Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Sirius and Harry's guard.
"Great to see you back and in good health, Harry." Mrs. Weasley announced, pulling Harry into a rather tight hug and kissing both of his cheeks as she did her other children.
"Keep it that way over the summer, I hear you'll be needing it when you're visiting Sirius." Mad-Eye grumbled, as though he really didn't want to say it.
"Really? I can visit them this summer?" Harry asked ecstatically.
"Harry, You'll be able to live with them when you turn eighteen . . .which happens to be this summer!" Tonks said smiling boldly.
"Just remember Harry, I owe you my life, so you're more than welcome to -er . . .stage a runaway this summer, if you know what I mean . . ." Sirius said, grinning mischievously.
"Don't you and Scipio get into too much trouble this summer!" said Harry, winking as he pushed his luggage off towards the Dursley's car.
"Bye Harry!" Ginny called, blowing a very visible kiss to him so that it made her mother blush.
"See ya, mate!" Ron screamed back.
"Bye," Hermione Scipio Sirius and the other chimed together.
Since the last time he could remember, Harry cried because he was happy. Not happy for others, but happy for himself.
And he enjoyed the feeling.
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Scipio sat up in his hospital bed in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He'd realized that he'd been here for the last week or so when Dumbledore made a visit to him after his concussion; the only side effect he managed after passing in and out of the veil.
"You should be thankful that that is the only thing that happened to you." Dumbledore replied calmly when Scipio first saw him again.
"How is Sirius? Harry? I need to know how Harry is!"
Dumbledore paused for a moment and breathed deeply, "Sirius is fine, and he is alive and well, as he has been demanding food for the last few days. He's also been demanding to see you, but I think we'll put that off until later. Let's have some porridge, shall we?"
"What about Harry?"
Again, Dumbledore paused, now realizing that he could no longer put off what needed to be said, he sighed and began. "Harry, for the past week, has been in a coma. Nobody is sure what happened to him, exactly. All we know is that he stayed conscious enough to retrieve both you and Sirius from behind the veil."
"When will he come out of it?" Scipio muttered, unable to get most of the words out.
"We believe in another month or so, it is too early to see any vital signs-"
"A month or so. Then I will wait, but take me to see my father."
Dumbledore led Scipio down the hall and into the recovery unit, where he knocked lightly on the first door and waited.
"Come in," a deep raspy voice called out from inside the room.
Dumbledore walked into the room with ease, but Scipio was still unsure. This was the first time he had met his father, how would he look? What would he say?
"Come in, Scipio," Dumbledore announced, and Scipio walked through the door as he took a deep breath. A tall man with long matted hair and heavy bags under his eyes faced Scipio. His deep dark eyes looked at Scipio in awe and he reached forth his hand to touch Scipio's own. Scipio slowly advanced towards the man, extending his hand outwards until the fingertips of both touched and a firm lock of the eyes had been made. As if all sense of time had stopped, he embraced his father and tears began to fall from his eyes. Tears of joy, of sorrow, of pain and angst. Tears that lasted forever in that hospital room.
ONE MONTH, 7 DAYS LATER
Harry-
*I know where I am . . . I'm in the hospital . . .but where is everyone? Where is Ron? Where is Hermione? Where is Sirius . . .and Scipio?*
Harry began to sit up, which required every last ounce of his strength, and narrowed his eyes. The bright florescent colors of the wallpaper burned his eyes and caused him a minor headache. Adjusting his eyes and moving his hands around his end table for his glasses, he picked them up, put them on his face and looked at the people who had fallen asleep upon his room floor.
There was Hermione and Ron, cuddled together on the rug, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, who'd fallen asleep in a rather large oversized recliner, Tonks and Lupin who had easily nestled in by lying in on each other's shoulders, Mad-eye, who remained distant and slept in a corner, Ginny, who'd slept at the end of Harry's bed, Fred and George, who'd developed boils during the night, most likely and a set of snores from a certain two people with long black hair and dark complexions beside the coffee table.
Harry smiled and coughed loudly. Everyone jumped up and looked at Harry, smiled and cheered. Harry smiled and looked into the face of Sirius. He was young again, bags no longer drooped his eyes, a soft smile shown and his hair . . .very much like Scipio's own hair, which led Harry to believe that Scipio had been doing his Dad's hair for the past few. . .
"What's today?" Harry asked, suddenly aware of time.
"February seventh! You've been gone for a month and a week, Harry."
"Wow . . .I hope you all haven't been waiting that long!"
Laughter rang throughout the hospital room as Dumbledore walked in.
"Hello Professor Dumbledore."
"Hello Harry. I'm sorry to kill what seemed to have been a happy moment in time, but I need to speak with you."
"It's alright. Thanks for visiting me, guys . . .I'll be out for breakfast in a few." Harry announced as everyone turned to leave.
"Harry, it's nearly supper time!" Fred and George sniggered.
"Oh . . .well, I'll see you for supper then."
Everyone left the room until only Dumbledore and Harry remained.
"I suppose you need to know what happened Christmas Eve, eh Professor?"
"You'd be right in that assumption, Harry."
And before Harry knew it, the whole tale of what happened Christmas Eve night filled the hospital room, sometimes loud enough where Dumbledore had to tell Harry to bring down his volume. Before long, Dumbledore had stopped listening to Harry and listened to the silence that followed his tale. Sitting down, Dumbledore took a deep breath and began to speak.
"I have never heard such a tale, Harry, not even one from you. I can only imagine that you are as curious as I to know how certain things happened to you. It is now that I accredit your lack of listening skills for the saving of your own life."
"What do you mean?"
"Harry, you didn't finish hearing out what Professor Lupin and I said about the prophecy. It was more gore than you could have imagined."
"Well, what was the ending then?"
"The ending to the prophecy, Harry, was that Scipio would die unless you risked your own existence to set him and his father free from the veil. Harry, the prophecy spoke of your death, the death of an entire world should you have failed. The uprising of the most evil thing known to mankind and the most deadly era in years. You realize now that I could not have risked such a thing, I could never tell Scipio or you that Sirius would die if you didn't save him that night. But never, never did I imagine that Scipio and you would overhear anyway and fulfill the prophecy. Never did I imagine, that by dying, Voldemort gave you the key to saving both Scipio and Sirius's lives. What now puzzles me; greater than anything about your story is why you didn't cease to exist after you rescued your godfather. But as I hear your tale now, I understand it entirely, without a single flaw."
"What is that?"
"I'm sure you remember me telling you once before that there is a room in the Department of Mysteries that always stays locked, and has never been opened. When the ministry came in that next day, the lock had been broken and the door had been left slightly ajar. Harry, you opened that room, you gave to yourself the power of life and resurrected yourself from the very last core of your being, the central character that distinguishes you from Lord Voldemort: love. Love again conquered all, Harry. You stand before us today not as Harry Potter, but as a resurrected being. You've gone through death and seen your way back. You are the only person who has ever managed this in the history of the world. Though it goes beyond all logical thinking, Harry, you've been reborn with that special force rushing through your blood. And again, you become 'the boy who lived'."
Harry lie back upon his pillow and sighed.
"You have yet to defeat the Dark Lord, Harry, and your time draws ever closer each day that you live. The war over death is over. The war for the world continues."
Harry closed his eyes and lie back upon his pillow. "When will it all end, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore mustered the strength to give Harry a false smile as he walked towards the door. "Soon, Harry. Very soon."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and pulled himself out of bed. Now was a time for rejoicing, not worrying about what will come.
For what will come will come anyway.
And what will not, won't. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------
Epilogue -
When Harry and Scipio returned to Hogwarts the following week of Harry's release, news had already spread like wildfire, and soon, the truth about what happened behind the veil was no longer a mystery. News reporters from London, France, Spain, Egypt, and yes; even Venice, Italy, were waiting in lines to interview the famous and renown Harry Potter, Scipio Black and the wrongly accused (and formerly deceased) Sirius Black. It was, by luck entirely that Scipio and Harry passed their end of the year exams, let alone find time to busy in their own lives.
"Harry," Scipio asked one day as he, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry sat in the great hall over breakfast "Would you have done the same thing twice?"
Harry paused for a moment, and thought heavily. "No. I'd have done the same thing infinitely."
Scipio hardly mentioned Draco, saying that he'd heard nothing from him since the day he sold Scipio to Lord Voldemort. As a matter of fact, Draco was not seen at all at school for the remainder of term, but that was not to anyone's misfortune besides Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherins. Among all other houses, the mysterious disappearance of Draco went basically unnoticed.
"I hope he doesn't ever come back, the git!" Ron said, stabbing at his already dissimilated bacon slices and toast.
"I wonder what's happened to him, though . . .perhaps he's finally being home schooled." Hermione wondered aloud as she grabbed the knife from Ron's hands.
"I pity his professor. What a lousy way to live your life . . .teaching Draco in Malfoy Manor. I would know!" Scipio replied as he watched a seventh year Ravenclaw pass their table.
As the school year finally came to its dismal ending, the population of Hogwarts gathered together for the end of the year's meeting in the great hall.
"Fellow students, staff, and anyone else who finds themselves wandering the halls of Hogwarts on a daily basis, yet another year has come and gone, friendships made and some friendships made stronger. Through trials and tribulations, this year has seen it's share of pain, sorrow, and in some cases," Dumbledore paused to look at Harry "resurrection of the human spirit. It is times such as these when we should bond together for the common good rather than the misfortune of others." Dumbledore cleared his throat and dabbed his eyes lightly. "I believe the words of our very own sorting hat said that 'united we stand, divided we fall' and what a true statement that was; because at this precise moment, one of you, one of your fellow classmates, friends and possibly family has recently passed away."
Scipio gasped in horror and put his hands to his face as a teardrop found it's way to the marble floor.
"I am talking, about Draco Malfoy, prefect of the Slytherin house as well as seeker on the quidditch team."
Whispers emerged from all about the great hall, looks of dismay and terror rode upon each face. Ron could only gape and murmur something sorrowful to Hermione, who shook her head and looked downcast.
"Mr. Malfoy, I fear, fought on the side of Lord Voldemort this Christmas past. He sacrificed two of his own fellow students' lives, both of which stand here today to tell their tales, and in the process was inhumanly killed by Lord Voldemort. Mr. Malfoy was a bright young man with a past, a present and a future whose very life was ripped away when he fought on the side of death, hate and intolerable cruelty instead of the side of life, love and all that is right. May he forever be an example of why when in these troubling times, it is always better to die for what is right than to die for an unjust cause. We lift our glasses today to remember Mr. Draco Malfoy."
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and heard the distinguished sobs of Pansy Parkinson and other Slytherin students. He, and the rest of the great hall, lifted their glasses fully out of respect, and not for like, of Draco Malfoy and drank to their own morals and values, each silently praying that they would not see the same path as he.
On the train ride home, Scipio, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny squeezed into one compartment and discussed the upcoming summer.
"Dad reckons you can visit us this year," Scipio piped up, smiling as he said the word 'dad'. "He's gotten a job with the Ministry, a favor that Fudge owed Dumbledore; not that Fudge was a bit too happy about hiring and ex-convict, and we've bought a house in upper Bristol. I mean, think about it guys, I have a house to live in now!"
"As opposed to the canals in Venice?" Ron replied sarcastically.
"Oh shut-up Ron. Don't be upset that I've taken away your summer meet spot. I mean, I know you're jealous of my looks and all, but-"
"Scipio, shut-up." Ginny replied from over the top of her 'Witch Weekly' magazine.
"Ginny, I believe Harry has something to ask you." Scipio announced loudly. Hermione and Ron looked back and forth at each other, secretly exchanging glances and horribly disguised smiles. Ginny blushed and looked at Harry, who only flushed about ten shades before he could manage to speak.
"Er- Ginny, I um, I er . . .would you fancy to be my girlfriend?" Harry asked, addressing the bottom of his shoes rather than Ginny herself. Ginny giggled and looked Harry in the eyes.
"I would fancy being your girlfriend, Harold James Potter." And she gave Harry the softest kiss on the lips that Harry had ever experienced from a girl before.
The kiss exchange went on and on until the train finally arrived at King's Station and everyone gathered their luggage and prepared their 'good- byes' for the summer months ahead. Harry and Scipio walked over to the side of the platform and greeted Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Sirius and Harry's guard.
"Great to see you back and in good health, Harry." Mrs. Weasley announced, pulling Harry into a rather tight hug and kissing both of his cheeks as she did her other children.
"Keep it that way over the summer, I hear you'll be needing it when you're visiting Sirius." Mad-Eye grumbled, as though he really didn't want to say it.
"Really? I can visit them this summer?" Harry asked ecstatically.
"Harry, You'll be able to live with them when you turn eighteen . . .which happens to be this summer!" Tonks said smiling boldly.
"Just remember Harry, I owe you my life, so you're more than welcome to -er . . .stage a runaway this summer, if you know what I mean . . ." Sirius said, grinning mischievously.
"Don't you and Scipio get into too much trouble this summer!" said Harry, winking as he pushed his luggage off towards the Dursley's car.
"Bye Harry!" Ginny called, blowing a very visible kiss to him so that it made her mother blush.
"See ya, mate!" Ron screamed back.
"Bye," Hermione Scipio Sirius and the other chimed together.
Since the last time he could remember, Harry cried because he was happy. Not happy for others, but happy for himself.
And he enjoyed the feeling.
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.