Disclaimer: I do not own basic plot/characters etc.
Note: italics are dreams, -hyphens are thoughts, because FF took away my lovely asterisks- and #hashes are song lyrics#
A/N: I'm very naughty. I haven't updated since… -counts- The SEVENTH OF NOVEMER??? Strewth, I didn't know it was that long! I'm so sorry for all those who genuinely like the story. -grovel grovel creep creep- This chappie isn't as good as the rest because I have lost the SWING. If you get what I mean.
(Please note there is a reference to Austin Powers 3 in this here chappie – ignore it if you haven't seen it.)
THIS IS THE (BUMBER EDITION) LAST CHAPTER. THANKS TO ALL WHO HAVE REVIEWED AND SUPPORTED ME, I AM QUITE PROUD OF THIS WORK. IT TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO THINK OF A SATISFACTORY ENDING. THERE WILL NEW MATERIAL TO FOLLOW SOON! MAYBE A SEQUAL IF I HAVE TIME. WHY AM I WRITING IN CAPS? I DON'T KNOW. ON WITH THE SHOW!
Chapter 17: Revelations and Zombie NationsHarry had fainted. Neville, starting to think he was the tougher of the two, ran after McGonagall to the Great Hall. When he got there, he – and Harry, having recovered from his 'fainting' fit when he realised Neville wasn't going to attend to him - breathlessly watched as Dumbledore's face lit up with the light of a thousand candles. The band in the corner started up with My Heart Will Go On as McGonagall smoothed her hair, glided over to Dumbledore and kissed him passionately. The students cheered and threw roses and anything else they could find. (Ron, having recently watched Austin Powers 3, threw a cupcake at Dumbledore's bald spot.)
The only thing that could ruin the moment was a cruel and mocking speech. Severus Snape, we applaud you – never fails to deliver.
"Well, she's back! I was wondering how long it would be. Damn it bitch, you're looking mighty fine tonight! Does losing your soul mean you don't age?" Snape said, stumbling onto stage. The whole student and staff body stared at him in – not awe as such… just astounded at his audacity. "What? What have I done NOW? Oh come on, Dumbledore! You said I could give a speech!
"Now. Seeing as I can say ANYTHING I like on this here stage, there are a few things you putrid pupils should know… First: Flitwick. He has a strange fetish for pink lacy underwired bras. And… HE WEARS ONE!" He yanked up Flitwick's robe, revealing the pink lacy underwired bra plus matching knickers. "AND LOOK!" Snape screamed in ecstasy, whipping him round to reveal the tattoo: I've got a lovely pair of coconuts across his back. "Oh, piss off you pervert Flik the Prick. Now, who next, who next…? Aah, Hagrid. Well, let's see… he's in lust. AFTER DOBBY THE HOUSE ELF! AND ALL THE OTHER LITTLE ELVES IN THE KITCHENS! What? He isn't here? Oh buggery. Ah well. Let's see… Me. Yes, I. I have been having an affair with – wait for it, wait-for-it-wait-for-it… MCGONAGALL! For ten years. And-" he pointed at each of his victims, "Seamus has a rash down there, Cho picks her nose and eats it, Colin Creepy – sorry, Creevy – is as gay as one of Graham Norton's feather boas, and that wasn't Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, that was ME! Ahem. That is all." He stepped off the stage, oblivious to the fact that the ball was in tatters. His victims of choice had left, and were all crying in various broom cupboards, McGonagall had fainted, Dumbledore was puce and Snape… well. Snape was drooling.
"Affair. Affair…?" Dumbledore said quietly to the now revived McGonagall. "Yes… I'm sorry. So sorry…" she whispered. He threw her a look, gave her a final kiss, and left in a flurry of silver robe and facial hair.
[The Next Day]
'All,
I am leaving. Forever. Unfortunately, the saviour of wizard-kind – Harry, for the very thick among you – has ruined my life. The love of my life has been flirting and feeling up others in the school, my reputation is in tatters, and I have lost almost all my money due to the non-refundable wedding bookings. I don't know where I'll go, but I do know I'm not coming back. I have a few demands though:
- McGonagall takes over as head
- Snape is to spy on the students for the teachers
- Harry is to graduate as normal, but shall never EVER return to Hogwarts, on a visit or otherwise.
That's it. Three simple demands. Please heed them, for the good of the school.
And Harry, I have a special message for you: you BASTARD. You little JAMMY BASTARD. You know, I guided you through your teenage years – I offered you biscuits when McGonagall thought you were too sickly, I told you about your past, I helped you battle the Dark Lord. Which is the one thing, the ONE THING I wanted to do by myself. I wasn't merely dropping hints when I said that I was the only one he couldn't harm (or words to that effect) – I was subtly saying back off bitch this one's mine. However, seeing as you were too dense to realise that, I had to live with it. And I could, until you go mad and start fondling my bloody fiancée. That was what I couldn't stand. So, dear Harry, The Boy Who Lived – have a nice life. Let you be guilt-ridden till the end. Or let a Hippogriff eat your innards before your very eyes, whichever is more painful.
Finally, I'd like to say I have greatly enjoyed my time here. I had hoped to stay longer. But you know, if there's one thing the Dark Lord, the students, the staff and BLOODY HARRY FRIGGING POTTER have taught me, it's that not everything goes your way. In 'cool' terms: life's a bitch.
Dumbledore.'
Only McGonagall and Harry knew of this note. The rest of the school had been informed that Dumbledore had retired to a house in the country, and seemed not entirely satisfied with that explanation. Rumours began to fly around the corridors and over the cauldrons –
"He's gone to America."
"Nah, he's gone to Hollywood."
"Liar! He's gone to BOLLYWOOD!"
"You're all wrong! Harry killed him!"
"Yeah! And chopped him up and hid his pieces in the statue of the one-eyed witch!"
"No! He's asked Pavarti to marry him!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed at his Potions class. "I know where he's gone. He's retired, like McGonagall said. To Saint Mungo's!!!" He gazed smugly at their astonished faces. "There. Happy now? He's potty. Loopy. Crazy. Round the twist, up the creek with no canoe…" He trailed off when he ran out of terms for 'mad'. Embarrassed, he quickly got on with his teleportation potion.
The last day of school. The last day…of school… the words seemed foreign on Hermione's tongue as she woke up to brilliant sunshine. Birds twittered, the squid squelched, and all seemed right with the world. Almost. She dressed, and wandered downstairs to find Harry in the common room. She paused for a second. Could she really face him? Probably not. She hadn't said a word to him since his Potions outburst. He'd taken to hanging around with Neville a lot, and the two seemed to be quite close. Too much had changed… She sighed. Too loudly, it transpired, as Harry turned around sharply and asked, "How long have you been breathing near me for?"
-Charming- she thought. "Half a minute." She stepped tentatively closer and asked him, "Harry. Can you tell me what really happened?" He hesitated, and then bit by bit explained everything. All of it – every conversation Neville and him had, the potions involved. Some of it she already knew. But the bit that startled her – he was in love.
"Really? With whom?" Harry paused, cleared his throat.
"You," he said. She gaped like a goldfish. "Fooled you," he grinned. Hermione looked outraged, but then smiled, and threw her arms round him. "What? What have I done to deserve this?" he mock-wailed.
"You're back! You're back!" she blubbered into his robes. Before any more barf-inducing reconciliation action could occur, Ron interrupted them. "Hermione? Harry…?" he asked.
"It's OK, Ron. We're speaking again." Harry pushed Hermione away. "Anyway, you should be wearing black and clicking rosaries about the place, Hermione. It's the last day of school. Surely you're in mourning?"
"On the contrary," she beamed. "I'll be happy to leave. Because I know what I want to do! I want to be an assistant at St Mungo's. Help Dumbledore, and others like him."
"That's nice," Ron said, not listening. But Harry was, and asked, "What about SPEW?"
"SPEW… I've given up. It's too much, and I wasn't doing anything constructive. That's why I haven't mentioned it for a YEAR… why did it suddenly come to mind?"
"I don't know. Tie up loose ends and all that."
The Graduation ceremony was a solemn affair, when normally it was a wild raucous party. The whole of the school was silent as Harry collected his diploma. McGonagall shook his hand warmly. As he was about to walk away, she whispered in his ear, "Thanks, Harry. Severus is The One. Thanks for helping me choose." He went back to his seat feeling as though the world had gone mad. Completely crazy.
Which, in fact, it is. As he drank his alcoholic pumpkin juice, he glanced round at the Gryffindor table, at all the people he'd grown up with. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Colin. And the teachers, Hagrid, McGonagall, Snape… Snape, who was a nice person when mad.
"Harry?" Hermione said, waking him from his reverie. "Harry, are you coming to stay at Ron's over the summer?"
"Um… No, sorry. I've agreed to stay with Neville. We're going to set up a potions store together… seriously!" he said, seeing Hermione's sceptical face. "I'll visit you, though. At least once." He was momentarily distracted by the sight of Fawkes flying into the Great Hall, with a note on his wing: He's yours, Harry.
He smiled. The world was his, at his feet. Begging to be used. And with Neville at his side, what could go wrong…? Best not answer that.
At least he had Fawkes at his side, to help with any more soul-killing sprees he might choose to undergo.
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