Disclaimer: If I were J.K. Rowling, I would fill that new humungous
swimming pool she payed for with Gelato, not water and chlorine. Hence, I
am not J.K. Rowling.
A/N: I wrote this story originally for Mugglenet.com's challenge of writing the last few pages of book 7. I really doubt I won, but I thought I'd have a go at it. (If it seems kind of boring, please keep in mind that there was a 1000 word limit and I had to cut a lot out to make it fit). Please leave a review; I want to know if this fic rocks or smells like socks.
...
Ok you know that when I'm poorly rhyming it's time to let you start reading the actual fic. ENJOY!
Ronald Weasley, nineteen years old, Apparated into The Burrow. He glanced around briefly at his childhood home.
He was soon interrupted, however, by his fiancé, Hermione Granger. "Are any of the others here yet?" she asked after kissing him on the cheek.
"Nope." Ron said.
"Oh, well, I'm sure they'll be here soon."
Suddenly, two other figures popped into the room.
"Ginny! Neville! How are you?"
Ginny smiled. "We're fine, Ron. Hi, Hermione. How are you?"
Hermione quickly put on a grin and said, "I'm alright. Neville! How was Hogwarts this year?"
"Hermione, I'm the Herbology professor; how do you think it's been?" he asked with a smile. "Is Luna here?"
"Luna? Not yet," Hermione said. "But I know she'll be here. She wouldn't miss this for the world."
Ron said, "No, she wouldn't. Luna's a wonderful woman. But since the day I've met her, I've always said she was just..."
"A bit odd? Looney, even?" The four turned around to see the source of the whimsical voice, Luna Lovegood.
"Luna," said Ginny, "I'm so glad you're here."
"Not even the Winged Hymamphaneet could keep me from being here on...Harry's day," Luna said.
An eerie silence spread over the room.
Hermione knew it was time. "I just can't believe it's been a whole year."
Neville nodded solemnly to Ginny and Luna. Ron took Hermione's hand. "I know...neither can I. Ever since we were eleven...ever since..."
"Ever since we met Harry," Hermione said, finishing Ron's sentence as she often did. "I remember. Ever since first year we knew we'd have to be the ones to defeat Voldemort in the end."
Ginny, usually the tough one of their group, let a single tear escape her right eye. "But he –"her voice cracked on more tears- "But he had to be the one to finish the job. It was him in the Prophecy."
Ron shook his head in disbelief. "When Harry told us about the Prophecy...what it said...what he would have to do... he was so afraid. You could see it in his eyes...he was only sixteen, and here he was, knowing that he would have to murder Lord Voldemort or be murdered himself."
Hermione sniffed. "He never wanted to be a murderer. He... never wanted...to kill anybody...it didn't matter if he'd be killing the most evil man in the world...he just...didn't want to be a murderer..." At this her body started shaking, as though Hermione was actually living Harry's anguish...and in a way, she had, for seven years.
Luna knew her cue. "We all told him we'd support him in whatever he did, but in the end it was his choice."
"So, on the night before his graduation from Hogwarts," Ginny said, "when he encountered Voldemort for what he knew would be the final time, he had a choice to make."
Ron and Hermione, took it in turns telling the remainder of Harry's story. Ron started. "But he didn't want to have a choice. He didn't want to murder anybody."
"...So when Harry was left with Wormtail's wand, and Harry knew that he would be the one to fulfill the Prophecy because Voldemort's wand would simply perform Priori Incantatem when aimed to harm Harry..."
"...So when Harry had Wormtail's wand," Ron said, "and he knew that on that night the Prophecy would be fulfilled, Harry still didn't want to be a murderer. It didn't matter if Voldemort was the reason why so many people including his own parents had died; it didn't matter because Harry never admitted it but deep down he always thought there was some good left in people."
"So of course he didn't want to murder Voldemort," Hermione interjected, "because he knew or at least thought that somewhere beneath that skeletal body, was a teenage boy named Tom Riddle."
"And so that's why he...he...he..." Ron couldn't contain it any longer, and tears fell freely from his eyes as he ended the story of his best friend. "That's why...he...thought the only way to bring peace to the world would be...to...would be to... end his own life, and Voldemort would go with him because they were joined at the mind."
A joint shudder passed through the room, and now every face in the group was tear-stained.
The last sentences were said by Hermione. "So...Harry took Wormtail's wand...and looked Voldemort in the eyes. They were red and so filled with hate. Harry wanted hate like that to never live on this Earth again. And that's when the Prophecy was fulfilled. Harry, using Wormtail's wand, said Avada Kedavra, and that was when Lord Voldemort was truly defeated once and for all."
Hermione fell to the floor, silently weeping, mourning her best friend. The others did the same, wishing things could go back to the way they used to be.
They were brought out of their reverie by a voice. A wizard of nearly nineteen had apparated into the room. "Why's everybody crying?" he asked, nervously adjusting his glasses.
Luna looked at the man then ran to him and embraced him hard. "Harry...oh, Harry..."
Harry smiled down at Luna Lovegood, the love of his life. "What Luna?"
"Oh Harry...you knew that you weren't a murderer by keeping yourself alive, didn't you?"
Harry Potter's eyes grew large for a moment, then he grinned and stroked Luna's cheek. "I knew...oh God Luna, I knew...I'm so glad I knew before it was too late...I would never leave you for anything in the world."
Harry's friends couldn't take it any longer, ran to Harry and pinned him to the ground, hugging him and ruffling his hair and kissing him and punching his arm.
And throughout all this, Harry James Potter, for the first time in his life, was truly smiling. Surrounded by the people who loved him, and in the arms of the woman he was in love with, he knew that he could have received no greater gift than staying alive, to live, to love, and to bring joy to the world.
A/N: I wrote this story originally for Mugglenet.com's challenge of writing the last few pages of book 7. I really doubt I won, but I thought I'd have a go at it. (If it seems kind of boring, please keep in mind that there was a 1000 word limit and I had to cut a lot out to make it fit). Please leave a review; I want to know if this fic rocks or smells like socks.
...
Ok you know that when I'm poorly rhyming it's time to let you start reading the actual fic. ENJOY!
Ronald Weasley, nineteen years old, Apparated into The Burrow. He glanced around briefly at his childhood home.
He was soon interrupted, however, by his fiancé, Hermione Granger. "Are any of the others here yet?" she asked after kissing him on the cheek.
"Nope." Ron said.
"Oh, well, I'm sure they'll be here soon."
Suddenly, two other figures popped into the room.
"Ginny! Neville! How are you?"
Ginny smiled. "We're fine, Ron. Hi, Hermione. How are you?"
Hermione quickly put on a grin and said, "I'm alright. Neville! How was Hogwarts this year?"
"Hermione, I'm the Herbology professor; how do you think it's been?" he asked with a smile. "Is Luna here?"
"Luna? Not yet," Hermione said. "But I know she'll be here. She wouldn't miss this for the world."
Ron said, "No, she wouldn't. Luna's a wonderful woman. But since the day I've met her, I've always said she was just..."
"A bit odd? Looney, even?" The four turned around to see the source of the whimsical voice, Luna Lovegood.
"Luna," said Ginny, "I'm so glad you're here."
"Not even the Winged Hymamphaneet could keep me from being here on...Harry's day," Luna said.
An eerie silence spread over the room.
Hermione knew it was time. "I just can't believe it's been a whole year."
Neville nodded solemnly to Ginny and Luna. Ron took Hermione's hand. "I know...neither can I. Ever since we were eleven...ever since..."
"Ever since we met Harry," Hermione said, finishing Ron's sentence as she often did. "I remember. Ever since first year we knew we'd have to be the ones to defeat Voldemort in the end."
Ginny, usually the tough one of their group, let a single tear escape her right eye. "But he –"her voice cracked on more tears- "But he had to be the one to finish the job. It was him in the Prophecy."
Ron shook his head in disbelief. "When Harry told us about the Prophecy...what it said...what he would have to do... he was so afraid. You could see it in his eyes...he was only sixteen, and here he was, knowing that he would have to murder Lord Voldemort or be murdered himself."
Hermione sniffed. "He never wanted to be a murderer. He... never wanted...to kill anybody...it didn't matter if he'd be killing the most evil man in the world...he just...didn't want to be a murderer..." At this her body started shaking, as though Hermione was actually living Harry's anguish...and in a way, she had, for seven years.
Luna knew her cue. "We all told him we'd support him in whatever he did, but in the end it was his choice."
"So, on the night before his graduation from Hogwarts," Ginny said, "when he encountered Voldemort for what he knew would be the final time, he had a choice to make."
Ron and Hermione, took it in turns telling the remainder of Harry's story. Ron started. "But he didn't want to have a choice. He didn't want to murder anybody."
"...So when Harry was left with Wormtail's wand, and Harry knew that he would be the one to fulfill the Prophecy because Voldemort's wand would simply perform Priori Incantatem when aimed to harm Harry..."
"...So when Harry had Wormtail's wand," Ron said, "and he knew that on that night the Prophecy would be fulfilled, Harry still didn't want to be a murderer. It didn't matter if Voldemort was the reason why so many people including his own parents had died; it didn't matter because Harry never admitted it but deep down he always thought there was some good left in people."
"So of course he didn't want to murder Voldemort," Hermione interjected, "because he knew or at least thought that somewhere beneath that skeletal body, was a teenage boy named Tom Riddle."
"And so that's why he...he...he..." Ron couldn't contain it any longer, and tears fell freely from his eyes as he ended the story of his best friend. "That's why...he...thought the only way to bring peace to the world would be...to...would be to... end his own life, and Voldemort would go with him because they were joined at the mind."
A joint shudder passed through the room, and now every face in the group was tear-stained.
The last sentences were said by Hermione. "So...Harry took Wormtail's wand...and looked Voldemort in the eyes. They were red and so filled with hate. Harry wanted hate like that to never live on this Earth again. And that's when the Prophecy was fulfilled. Harry, using Wormtail's wand, said Avada Kedavra, and that was when Lord Voldemort was truly defeated once and for all."
Hermione fell to the floor, silently weeping, mourning her best friend. The others did the same, wishing things could go back to the way they used to be.
They were brought out of their reverie by a voice. A wizard of nearly nineteen had apparated into the room. "Why's everybody crying?" he asked, nervously adjusting his glasses.
Luna looked at the man then ran to him and embraced him hard. "Harry...oh, Harry..."
Harry smiled down at Luna Lovegood, the love of his life. "What Luna?"
"Oh Harry...you knew that you weren't a murderer by keeping yourself alive, didn't you?"
Harry Potter's eyes grew large for a moment, then he grinned and stroked Luna's cheek. "I knew...oh God Luna, I knew...I'm so glad I knew before it was too late...I would never leave you for anything in the world."
Harry's friends couldn't take it any longer, ran to Harry and pinned him to the ground, hugging him and ruffling his hair and kissing him and punching his arm.
And throughout all this, Harry James Potter, for the first time in his life, was truly smiling. Surrounded by the people who loved him, and in the arms of the woman he was in love with, he knew that he could have received no greater gift than staying alive, to live, to love, and to bring joy to the world.
