Epilogue

Summer blazed across England in passionate splendor. It seemed as if the earth itself were celebrating the demise of Voldemort and the stain of darkness he'd built his fortunes on. A giddy mood permeated the air wherever anyone went. Everywhere, that was, with the possible exception of the council halls.

Harry sat staring wistfully out the open window, wishing he were anywhere rather than where he was. The past weeks had been an interminable series of conferences and meetings, and speeches and presentation. It was against his nature to be a part of such functions, but he found himself with little choice. Ginny, always at his side, seemed just as unsettled and just as anxious.

Why was he really here, he wondered. The fighting was done, at least for now, and this endless talking seemed to accomplish nothing. There was a conceivable need for the work, he could grant, but it wasn't his work. His presence was demanded though, as if somehow it gave some validity to the proceedings. Even victory, it seemed, wouldn't reprieve him from the role of figurehead.

Much later in the day, Harry found himself at the center of conversation. "We must determine what your proper role is to be, Harry," explained Walpole.

"I fail to understand what the question is," Harry snapped. "I'm a Guardian… what's to determine?"

"But now that we have peace, where do you figure into the government?" Hermione asked. "The people love you, Harry. You're their hero. Should you be appointed Minister of Magic? Should you be named War Minister, or some other title?"

"I don't want to do any of those things," Harry objected. "I've done my part, and now I want to go home."

"Your country needs you," countered Grimsby. "We need you. There are things more important than our individual wants…"

Harry was tired of this. He set his silver hand down heavily onto the table. "I am well versed in putting the needs of others ahead of my own," he insisted. "I'm not going away, but the idea of me as the Minister of anything is simply ridiculous."

"You're a symbol, Harry," Walpole erupted. "When are you going to learn that? When Harry Potter is on watch where people can see him, everyone feels better. You may not like it, and I certainly don't understand it, but that's the simple truth of the matter. The war is over, but the need for security is not. You have a role to play"

"You and your symbols," spat Harry. "Everything is always symbols with you… Who does the actual work while this parade of symbolism is going on? Who's making the decisions while I distract everyone with my shiny hand?"

"We are," answered Hermione.

"For Merlin's sake," Ginny snapped, "Why don't you just tell the people that then? They're not as stupid or as gullible as you think they are. Just tell them the truth and let Harry and I get on with our real work."

"Your work we understand," Walpole answered, "but Harry is too valuable to let drift off into obscurity. Government is hard work, it requires foresight and planning, and many of the choices that have to be made aren't popular even if they are for the greater good. Symbols and public perception are our leverage against this."

"You could explain that to the people as well…" Ginny countered.

"And the first buffoon to come along promising them bread and circuses would sweep us out of office," Ron cut her short.

While all of this had been going on, Harry had been deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. "My work is security," he started, "and that work does overlap the concerns of the government. If I'm to succeed, I'll need help."

Walpole sighed audibly in relief.

"It's not going the way you thing though," Harry insisted. There were groans around the chamber as a result. "I am willing to work with you though."

"Please enlighten us then," Ron said sarcastically.

Harry smiled back at him. "I'm not the only one who fought the war," he started. "It's been pointed out several times that I spent most of it in hiding. You have more symbols walking around now than you know what to do with. Take Ron for instance, he led the army – still does for that matter. There's your war hero, and he's comfortable with being a façade for this council. Use him, and I'll talk him up."

Walpole and the other elders nodded in agreement. "What's the catch?" Hermione asked. "What are you going to do?"

"No catch, 'Mione. You two want this, you deserve it too. You're still my friends, and I think you'll do a fine job."

Hermione still didn't seem convinced. "You didn't answer the other question… What are you going to do?"

"I am going to be the Guardian of England," he answered. "With your help, I'm going to the Auror Academy, and I'm going to start an elite corps to counter any future threats. If necessary, I'll accept some public appointment along those lines, but only if it doesn't interfere with my real work."

"You'll publicly endorse Mr. Weasley?" Walpole asked. Harry nodded in answer. "We can make this work," the elder replied, "We accept."

The objections on Hermione's face remained unspoken. Details were worked out, and the discussion went well into the night before it was over. The important thing to Harry however, was that the next day did not require his presence, or any of the following days for that matter. He could go home.

Ron slumped into his chair in a fit of purposeful malaise and released a long sigh. Hermione curled up on the sofa across from him. She opened up her book and started to read, but more sighs interrupted her concentration. Resignedly, she closed her book. "What's wrong, Ron?" she asked.

"He's done it to me again…" Ron complained. "No matter how hard I work, Harry always does one better. I worked hard, fought hard, and then Harry shows up with his shiny hand and wins the war all by himself. Walpole is ready to make him Minister of Magic to the point of forcing him to take the job, and Harry's like 'No, that's too boring for me, let Ron do it.'

"I busted my arse just to get here, and Harry tosses my goals aside like they're so much rubbish. 'I can't be bothered with that petty day-to-day stuff, just call me when it's time to save the world.' He gets all the glory, and I get all the grunt work."

Hermione tried to be sympathetic. "You're going to be the youngest Minister of Magic ever, Ron. If Harry hadn't shown up, the job would be yours, and even though he has shown up, the job is yours. Is it really so different?"

"Yes," insisted Ron, "it is. I only have the job because Harry's too good for it. I'm the runner-up. If Harry ever changes his mind, I'm out. Nothing I've done matters."

"I don't think that'll happen," Hermione insisted. "Not to mention, we have a great opportunity here. We can do truly great things. How we got here doesn't matter - our work will speak for itself." Hermione moved and sat on his lap, draping her arm around him. She gave him a brief kiss, which brought a smile to his face. "Besides, you still have me," she said. "Harry doesn't have anything to do with that."

Ron grinned at her and gave her a kiss of his own. "Yeah, I'm lucky that way. All that charm you know…"

The taxi carrying Harry and Ginny slowed to a stop onto Privet Lane. Harry paused for a moment, standing across the street from the house in which he'd spent most of his childhood. All signs of the battle that had occurred his last day here were erased; the neighborhood looked as it always had. Memories flooded back and threatened to overwhelm him. Ginny read his mood and took his hand in response. "We don't have to do this, you know," she offered.

Harry shook his head. "No, I want to," he insisted.

They crossed the street and knocked on the door. A long minute passed before the door opened to reveal a flustered Uncle Vernon and the long figure of Aunt Petunia behind him. "Boy," Uncle Vernon addressed him gruffly, but stepped aside to allow them entrance.

Aunt Petunia ushered them into the living room and seated them on the sofa Harry had never been allowed to touch before, and after a silent interlude with Uncle Vernon served them tea and biscuits on good china. The silence was long and tangible.

"I wanted to see how you were," Harry finally spoke. "I'm sorry about the damage… when I left."

"Those fr… friends of yours fixed it all," Uncle Vernon replied.

"We've never thanked you for what you did," Aunt Petunia added solemnly. "They would've killed us if you hadn't stopped them. Poor Vernon… you look well though, were you treated badly?"

Harry nodded, but didn't answer. "They tortured him," Ginny took over. "We almost didn't get him back. Another day and I don't think he would've made it. They cut off his hand…"

His Aunt and Uncle were staring obviously at his hands and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Ginny made a new one for me, it's charmed to look normal… we didn't want to draw attention from the neighbors." Harry looked self conscious. "I caused enough trouble here."

"Listen, boy…" Uncle Vernon started. Aunt Petunia elbowed him. "Harry… we… I… don't understand this life of yours… but…"

"What Vernon is trying to say," Aunt Petunia interjected. "Is that you are family, and we accept you. We'd rather not have …magic… in the house, but if you want to visit sometimes, we'll both be very happy to see you."

Uncle Vernon nodded emphatically.

The air of tension broke at that point and became more casual. Ginny complimented Aunt Petunia on her décor and Harry inquired after Dudley.

"At University," Uncle Vernon answered with pride. "He's actually doing well now, not like at Smeltings."

"He's turned over a new leaf," added Aunt Petunia. "You'd barely recognize him." She turned to Ginny. "Is this your girlfriend?"

Harry looked sheep-faced. "I'm sorry I didn't do a proper introduction," he said. "This is Ginny Weasley."

"For a couple more weeks, at least," Ginny said with a smile.

"We're getting married," Harry explained, squeezing her hand for emphasis.

Aunt Petunia gushed at the news and Uncle Vernon gave his sincere, if not totally convincing congratulations. Harry felt odd seeing his Aunt happy about his future, but still, it seemed sincere and he did his best to accept it. Ginny, oblivious, dropped her guard and emoted enough for both of them.

They ended up staying into the evening and having dinner at a curry house. Once Harry insisted that he would pick up the tab, even Uncle Vernon cheered up. Once goodbyes were made, as well as promises to stay in touch, Harry left with a feeling he'd never really experienced before: family.

Draco stood on his veranda, soaking up the sun and admiring the vast expanse of ocean before him. This was Portugal and he loved it, it was not home however and so he chafed at it. This was his redoubt, his ace in the hole to counter the whims of his former Master. He'd built this compound slowly and quietly – secretly, so as to avoid attention.

Draco had harbored no illusions about his value to Lord Voldemort. So long as he was more useful alive than dead, he was kept alive. On a whim or at the random twist of fate however, all that was subject to change. Draco simply wasn't satisfied with that; he wanted something more.

He had plotted and schemed, and politicked, and maneuver – sometimes in secret, sometimes in the open, but always with his true intent disguised. Voldemort's death had been a given; the only variable had been at whose hand he fell. Although he'd have been happy to be rid of Potter, the way things had played out only consolidated his authority.

All was well for now, he thought to himself, but Portugal is not home…

End of Part 1


Author's note:

Part 1 is now finished, and Part 2 is being written and even Part 3 has had some work done on it. I really hope you've enjoyed the story so far. I've been splitting my meager writing time between this and 'The Construction of Light', so things have gone kind of slow. They are moving though.

At the end of my stories, I like to write a little bit about how they came to be. 'Legacies' was first sketched out on four sheets of yellow legal paper in March of 2002. The seeds that gave birth to this story were somewhat disparate: I read a fan fic by an author named Irina (Galatea was the fic's name), which although I did not like, was especially well written. One of the things that I didn't like about it was the amount of drama involved – I wanted to write a story that while featuring a nice relationship, avoided turning into a soap opera. One of the things that I did like about it, was its adaptation of Celtic Mythology, of which I am a lifelong fan. It came into my head then to write an adaptation of the Nuada cycle, set in the universe of Harry Potter. At the time, I was recovering from multiple surgeries to my right wrist, and suffering from a debilitating neurological disorder that effectively denied me the use of both hands, but especially the right. It seemed a natural fit to cast Harry into the role of silver-handed Nuada, Ron and Hermione into the role of Bres, and to make Ginny into Diancecht by association. The result, you've read by this point.

Part 2 should arrive within a month to six weeks, and take a step to about twenty five years in the future.

For those interested in the influences on my writing: I'm a big fan of Charles DeLint and the way he mixes the modern with the mythical. His 'Moonheart' is one of my favorite books of all time. I'm also a really big fan of Shakespeare, and you will always find shadows of his work in the thematic elements of my work. Additionally, for more technical aspects of development, I frequently reference the works of Joseph Campbell and Frazer's 'The Golden Bough'. I always listen to music when I write, and almost exclusively classical. Without the works of Arvo Part, I could write nothing. John Adams, Shostakovich, Reich, Glass, and various flamenco artists also frequent my CD player. The only pop music I ever listen to while writing is Pete Townshend, especially the album "All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes" – if you look close enough, you'll find constant references to his lyrics in all of my fictions. (Part 3 will open with a quote from that album.)

Finally, I'd like to think all of you, the readers, and especially the reviewers:

FSI: I'm working on the Construction of Light, which will be the sequel to 'The Seekers' and very definitely Harry/Cho. Every one has cast me into the category of HP/CC which sort of surprises me, because each of my fics has featured a different relationship – at heart, I want Harry and Hermione together, I've just never been able to write that story. Thanks for your consistent reviews

Shadowface: I hope you and your Kitty are happy with Part 1 and can stand the wait for Part 2

Softwhispers: Thanks for always reviewing and the kind words. All of my HP works (except for one aborted work) are here on the site now. I'm working on some original works that I hope to publish eventually….when I manage to finish them… so I can't post them here.

Maiden: I hope subsequent chapters have redeemed the story for you.

Well, that's it for now – In the mean time, I'm writing as fast as I can.

Charles

a.k.a The Novice