Final Hope

I never thought it would end this way.

At 17, it was my last chance to defeat Voldemort before my school days at Hogwarts ended, before any more of my friends and family were lost to the most evil of all wizards, and before my physical, mental, and emotional strengths were completely lost for good.

I never wanted to be the one to have to end it. But, according to the prophecy, there was no other choice.

This was how it all began…

By the beginning of my final year, the Order of the Phoenix had received information that new members for the Death Eaters had been recruited to replace those that had been captured or killed in the previous year. In particular, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. I was unsurprised by the news. I was also unsurprised to find that the Order expected me to find all I could about the Dark Lord's plans through the new members. What I was surprised was how they wanted me to go about finding out…

I had to pretend to be Draco Malfoy's lover.

Of all the possibilities that had been looming in my head for the past seven years, having to pretend to be in love with Draco in my 7th year was the possibility farthest in my head, if it existed at all.

The very idea made me gag. The Weasleys, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, everyone was as disgusted as I was by the order. Dumbledore however, wished me luck.

"Snape has had to employ worse methods to uncover the doings of Voldemort. Consider yourself fortunate Mr. Potter, that you only have to love and care for someone in order to find out what they're up to."

I would rather have eaten sawdust for the rest of my life than have to…love Malfoy, if such a thing could occur.

When school started, I tried my best to avoid Malfoy. Unfortunately, as always, he was in most of my classes, including Potions. As much as I hated Potions before, it now became my maddening hell. Snape, being well aware of my duty for the Order, made it clear that he wanted to help in any way he could. He made sure that at every Potions class I was paired up with the white faced ferret, and that I would sit with him as well. If I tried to sneak away and be with Hermione and Ron and even Neville for only a moment, Snape would take twenty points away from Gryffindor. He knew me too well to believe I would willingly give up points in order to keep away from my "duty", and the instant he tried that tactic, it worked. I think he enjoyed knowing how tortured I was in his class above all others for that reason.

The other teachers however, were far more sympathetic. McGonagall especially, being very prim and proper, was absolutely abhorrent of the whole matter. For any number of points Gryffindor lost in Potions, the Slytherins would lose twice as much in Transfiguration. I started appreciating the class a lot more after hearing McGonagall talk down to Malfoy and threaten to take away 30 points just because he accidentally dropped his quill.

Needless to say, as a result of the combined support of the teachers, my grades were the highest they had been since starting Hogwarts, and I do not need to mention we won the House Cup the 7th year running. But back to my duty…

Having to lure Draco into my lair was about as "appealing as a million needles being jammed in my eye," Ron said one day while we were headed to lunch.

"Honestly, Ron, his duty could be worse. At least Malfoy is…somewhat attractive," Hermione muttered the last few words under her breath, but Ron could hear them clearly.

"WHAT? Hermione, have you gone mad?"

I think the look on his face at the time was probably worth all the Potions classes I'd had over the years.

Hermione only shook her head and sighed. "Well at least it's not Crabbe or Goyle Harry has to…seduce…"

"Crabbe? Goyle? Seduce?" Ron's voice started reaching soprano.

"Well can you imagine such a thing?" Hermione asked him.

"No as a matter of fact, I can't. Not unless they're seducing each other."

"How disgusting Ron!"

"It's just as disgusting as Harry having to do it with Malfoy!" Ron shrieked.

My face started getting warm. People were stopping in the hallways to stare at me as they walked by.

"Oh, well done Ron! Now everyone's going to think Harry's gay!"

"Well isn't that what they're supposed to think Hermione? How else is he supposed to…you know…bring down you know who?" Ron had enough sense to whisper the last few words.

Hermione sighed yet again. "His name is Voldemort, Ron!"

"Don't say his name!" Ron pleaded, his face growing pale.

I sighed as well, wondering when the year would finally be over, and if I would be around to experience the ending.

The next few months flew by without much accomplished. Hermione was frantically studying for N.E.W.T. s and trying to get Ron and me to study as well, but all I could think of was how in the world I was going to use Draco as a target to get to Voldemort.

"Harry?" a soft voice called my name.

I looked up to see Ron's younger sister Ginny smiling at me. "Are you all right?"

I nodded weakly, not wanting her to know how I really felt. At this point I didn't want to allow myself to feel anything. I had to stay emotionless and empty in order to accomplish the task I was required to do.

"Well, if you need anything, let me know," Ginny told me before walking off.

Sometimes I still wish I could have just been born the same as everyone else. Without having a prior obligation to fulfill before being allowed to live my life without any distractions.

It wasn't until near Christmas that something happened to change everything.

I was spending the holidays at the House of Black, which I had inherited, along with a large fortune, from Sirius. The entire Order of the Phoenix continued to have meetings there, and by now Ron, Hermione and I were allowed to be a part of it. We offered comments and suggestions, most of which were taken lightly because we were considered too young and inexperienced to have anything of value to contribute. And yet I was expected to overcome the darkest wizard that ever lived. The patronizing behavior of the other members irritated me a lot at times. If it hadn't been for my close friends, I don't think I would have lasted through the meetings without losing my temper.

It was the night before Christmas and all through the house, the Weasleys, Tonks, Granger, and Potter were sleeping soundly. But a noise at the door startled us awake. Putting on my glasses, I sprang out of bed and looked out the window to see what was the matter.

Mundungus Fletcher was standing outside pounding madly at the door.

"What's he planning to do? Break it down?" Ron snorted. "We can all hear him. My head's pounding from the noise."

When Mr. Weasley finally answered the door, Mundungus burst in the floyer, pacing wildly, his teeth chattering, and his eyes fearful.

"Good god, man, what's the matter?"

"It's horrible, Arthur, just horrible!" Mundungus managed to get out before breaking down and crying.

"Oh! Why did it have to be him! Why couldn't it had been me! Damned man is too loyal for his own good!"

"What happened, Fletcher?"

Mundungus finally stopped sobbing long enough to tell Mr. Weasley the story.

"They…the Death Eaters came to the place we had expected…Lupin, Shacklebolt, Moody and I had our wands with us, thank Merlin. But he was too quick…" and then Mundungus started crying again.

"All right, take your time. Just tell me."

By this time all the Weasleys, Hermione and I were listening from the staircase, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

"One of the new members…a pale haired boy I think it was…managed to cleverly go around where we couldn't see him…it was too dark and there were no lights. Then all of a sudden one of us was stunned. I can't remember who it was…either Moody or Kingsley…anyway…I'm blind as a bat in the dark, already am losing my sight during the day…and the boy was able to steal my wand before I could stop him! He pointed it at me along with his own. For a minute I thought I was done for. Then…"

"What?" Mr. Weasley bade him continue.

"Then," Mundungus kept sobbing, "then Lupin…brave man, jumped in front of me to prevent the boy from attacking me with both wands…but just as he had done so, the boy shrieked a curse…and it was too late…" he bawled even louder.

"Was it Avada Kedavra?" Mr. Weasley asked him.

Mundungus nodded, wiping his eyes and nose on his jacket. "Poor Lupin! He fell on me, poor man, and I let him down gently just as Moody came over to help. But the boy got away before Moody could zap him."

Mr. Weasley stood there, stunned, as Mundungus started crying even louder. He threw his hands on Mr. Weasley's chest, unable to stand on his own.

I couldn't hear the gasps coming from my friends or the tender touches on my arm that Ginny and Hermione gave in sympathy. All I could hear was that yet another man who I cared deeply for, regarded as a father next to Sirius, who had both been my father's closest friends, were now dead.

I didn't care about anything at the moment. All I could think of was the fact that Lupin was now dead as well as Sirius. And I couldn't think rationally. I should have blamed Malfoy at first. He was the one at fault. But the person I blamed most, and still do regretfully, is Mundungus.

The next thing I remember is racing from the staircase and pull out my wand in an effort to hex Mundungus in an attempt to…avenge those that I lost. But Mr. Weasley held me back, while I was shrieking curses and profanities to the man that was responsible for my losing someone I cared about.

Mundungus was just as torn as I was. Mr. Weasley later told me Mundungus wished with all his heart that if he could bring Lupin back by killing himself, it had done. At the time, I wished it as well.

I was even more sullen and numb than I previously was after the holidays. There seemed to be nothing to live for now except revenge. By then I finally accepted the fact that I had to use Draco in order to win. And I was determined to win. For Lupin's, Sirius's, and my parents' sakes.

February, Valentine's Day. What a perfect day to start planning to break someone's heart. In order to break a heart you have to own it first.

Draco, surprisingly, did not mention anything about the loss of Lupin and several other members of the Order of the Phoenix. My guess was he didn't want it well known that he was a Death Eater, but it still seemed odd not to have him crowing over the fact. And yet it was the fact that he didn't gloat that made it easier for me to approach him. I subconsciously knew that if he had made the slightest remark about Lupin's death, then there would be another death to follow, without careful plotting and consideration of trapping Voldemort.

So it was on Valentine's Day that I managed to start to fulfill my duty. What can I say? I've always procrastinated when it comes to my work.

I'd planned it all very carefully. While everyone was busy commenting on who got a card from whom, Draco would find one from yours truly right in his bag. If he read it, smirked, and put it back in his back, then that was a clue to come up to him. If he read it, smirked, and threw it in the rubbish bin, then that was a clue to come up with another plan.

So as Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall making jokes with his fellow Death Eater friends about the losers that didn't receive any Valentine's Cards (I'm pretty sure the only card he received besides the one from me was from Pansy) I picked up my wand and put a charm on the Valentine's Day Card to read "Happy V Day Malfoy! From HP". Then I sent it over to Draco.

Just as I predicted, Draco picked up the card and smirked. I hadn't really predicted he would put it in his pocket though. Was he so dense he couldn't figure out the initials to HP? I was so confused by his action that I had forgotten to walk over to him and start a conversation.

There was no need to berate myself for losing the chance. Draco took care of that in Potions class.

"Hey Potter," he said abruptly to me as we sat together in class.

I wasn't sure what to make of his new behavior. I had planned it, but to have things occur even better than the way they are planned is so rare.

"Hey yourself," I responded back. "Did you get my card?"

"Yeah, I got it all right," Draco responded, patting his pocket. "It's a bit too pink for my taste though. In the future, I'd prefer a nice green one."

In the future? What had happened here? Was this an alternate universe? I was expecting for it to take months for Draco to respond so politely. And all I had done was give him a Valentine's Day card and he was acting as though we were good chums.

Well, from then on Draco and I were inseparable. We had lunch together, we secretly practiced Quidditch together, and we sat in every class together. We were so convincing as a couple that even Ron looked me strangely sometimes, while Hermione rolled her eyes and repeated to him, "He's just faking, he's just faking…"

Neville, Seamus, and Dean, I knew, were questioning why I had suddenly come out of the closet. They all were full of questions and advice.

"So what's it like with a gay? I mean, guy?" (Seamus)

"Hey man! Just because you couldn't get any more from Cho doesn't mean there aren't tons of girls in this school that would gladly give it to you." (Dean)

"Um…Harry?"

"Yes Neville."

"Could…could I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Um…when did you find out you were gay?"

"Just this year. Why?"

"Um…so you don't like girls anymore?"

"Not at the moment."

"Oh. So um…you only like guys now?"

I think if I hadn't felt so numb I would have either laughed out loud or sighed with exasperation at Neville's questions.

"I guess so."

"Oh. So…wouldn't you be more comfortable in the girls' dormitories then?"

"What? Why?"

"Well…I mean…you're gay…and you like guys…so isn't that…kind of…like a girl?"

Poor Neville. I really wonder at how his grandmother has treated him all these years.

"No Neville. Just because I am gay does not mean I am like a girl. I do not shave my legs, experience PMS, or wear a bra. And I still use the toilet like a boy."

"Oh." Neville seemed more relieved after my assertions.

"What did you want to know?"

"Why did you stop liking girls?"

If only I could tell him that at the moment I was afraid to like anyone.

"I just…stopped…that's all. Guys seemed to appeal to me more."

"Oh. So would you ever consider liking a girl again?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"I'm just wondering…"

Somehow I think that's where the conversation stopped being about me.

"Do you like someone Neville?"

Neville blushed, fidgeted around, and looked down at his feet. "Um…maybe?"

I sighed, and tried to make it easier for him. "Is it Luna?"

Neville's jaw dropped open. "How did you know?"

I shrugged. "It's pretty obvious. So why don't you ask her out?"

Neville's jaw dropped lower. "I couldn't do that!"

"Why not?" At this point, Neville reminded me in 5th year, and how nervous I was with Cho Chang. But two years later, and having to pretend that I was in love with my mortal enemy, made me realize that dating girls is really one of the last things to make a fuss about.

"Well…for starters…I don't know if she likes me," Neville sighed unhappily.

I smiled, shaking my head at him. "That's why you ask her. To find out."

"But what if she says no!" Neville protested.

"Then she's not the one for you," I replied.

Neville gulped. "Okay, well what if she says yes? Then what?"

"Then go out with her!"

"How?"

"Just hang out and talk, and be together and stuff. That can't be too hard to do, can it? You two are almost always around each other already!"

Neville blushed a deep shade of maroon. "So do you think I have a chance?"

"The stars seem to be in your favor," I told him.

Neville smiled shyly. "Thanks Harry. And just so you know, I have no problem with you're being gay."

"Thanks," I told him.

So the next day Hermione told me that she heard Neville had asked Luna out, and she had said yes. Ron seemed surprised by this information.

"What do they see in each other? I mean, Luna's got to be the dottiest thing ever, and Neville…well, you know him…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh Ron! They're perfect for each other! There's nothing wrong with their going out!"

Ron stared at her. "I never said there was anything wrong with their going out! I was just commenting how odd it was…I mean…"

"What you mean is, you can't believe Neville has a girlfriend before you do!" Hermione told him.

Ron's jaw dropped open at her outburst. "Oh and I suppose that's something to be jealous about? Wanting to date Luna? I don't think so."

"Well, who would you date then?" Hermione asked him

Ron's jaw, which was already past his shoulders, seemed to open even wider to practically hit the table. "Who would I date? I don't know…"

"Well why don't you figure it out and tell me!" Hermione snapped, and then she left the table.

Ron turned to me helplessly. "Girls!" he groaned. "They're all nutters! Honestly, I guess this is one of those times when guys consider going gay. I mean, at least they can have fun with another bloke discussing things like Quidditch all day long without a bunch of girls complaining how boring that is and wanting you to talk about their hair and clothes," he shook his head.

"Are you considering turning gay Ron?" I teased.

Ron stared at me. "No I was joking. I'm straight as a hard on," he muttered, his ears turning red.

"You're not really gay are you?" he asked.

I looked around to see if anyone was listening, and shook my head no.

Ron looked relieved. "So you haven't done anything with Draco yet."

"Done what?" I asked, shocked at the question, even though Seamus had asked me something similar earlier.

"You know…" Ron nudged me.

I made a face. "Don't make me retch now. I just ate."

"What do you two do when you're together any way? I still think it's odd how you two managed to get together so fast. I thought the ferret would need to take some warming up to you first."

I shrugged. "I think he's onto something as well. That's my only explanation. I don't know what though. It probably has to do with Voldemort."

Ron tried to keep from shuddering at the name.

He did have a good question though. I still wondered myself how Malfoy had managed to come around so quickly. There was no doubt in my mind that it had something to do with the Death Eaters. I kept on the watch at all times. When I was with Draco, the most we did was make small talk. About the weather, the classes we had together, Quidditch…we had several trips to Hogsmeade together as well. They weren't the most enjoyable trips I've experienced, due to the fact I was with Draco and his cronies, but I managed to get some information out of Crabbe and Goyle that wasn't meant for non Death Eaters to know.

At a trip in March, the four of us were walking towards Hogmeades, when all of a sudden Crabbe said, "Draco isn't that where you plan to…"

I noticed Draco give Crabbe a look, and it all came together in my mind. Draco was acting on Voldemort's orders. He wanted Draco to get close to me so I would tell him the rest of the prophecy as well as any other tidbits from the Order so he would know how to destroy me. Voldemort obviously did not know my past with Draco very well, otherwise he would have used a much more effective person. He was probably very irritated with Draco for not being able to worm much out of me. I hadn't been a very interesting talker.

Thinking about Voldemort made me realize something. I hadn't been able to hear his thoughts or feel my scar hurt in ages, probably not since last year. I'd been so numb to my pain over losing Lupin that I'd forgotten to pay attention to something that had always bothered me. Why was that? Had Voldemort managed to control my emotions and feelings so I could only feel things when he directed me to? Had his using Draco been effective for that reason?

I started feeling woosy, and Draco must have realized, because he looked at me strangely.

"You all right, Pott…Harry?"

I wasn't too woosy to not realize that Draco had almost slipped and called me by my surname.

"I just need to lie down a bit, that's all."

Draco had Crabbe and Goyle assist me to a nearby bench so I could lie down.

"We'll be right back in case you need us," Draco told me. Then he grabbed his cronies and took them over to the side where they thought I couldn't hear them.

"I thought I told you two idiots to stay aloof and not let on what we're about to do."

"I'm sorry, Draco. I thought you'd let him in on it by now."

"Not yet Goyle! We still have a few months time before that. Meanwhile, I have to get Potter to spill his secrets. Tell me what he's thinking, feeling, fearing, in relation to Voldemort. Otherwise, things aren't going to be pretty."

"Won't Voldemort Avada Kedavra you if it doesn't go as planned?" Crabbe asked him.

Draco scowled. "As if I didn't need you to remind me! Voldemort told me from the first how I'm expected to fully contribute. It was my idea that I could lure Harry into telling me all he knows by seducing him. Once that happens, he'll be immediately transported to Voldemort so he can get rid of him. And then I'll be rewarded." He smiled.

"But I thought you hadn't seduced Potter yet, Malfoy," Goyle reminded him.

Draco sighed. "Well, Potter came to me first, unexpectedly. Voldemort thinks he's been put up by the Order of the Phoenix to try to destroy him through me. Well that's not going to happen, I assure you. Potter already is feeling weak from the drowsing potion I put in his drink before we left for Hogsmeade. Once he falls asleep, I'll torture him, and then thanks to Voldemort's ability to control my consciousness I'll be able to help destroy him at the hideout we arranged."

"And then what?" Crabbe prodded him.

"And then Voldemort can kill Potter so he can take over the world of course! What else!" Draco snapped. "And I only wish he'd done it sooner."

"Take over the world?" Goyle asked.

"No! Kill Potter!" Draco replied. He looked over at me to make sure I was still drowsy. I looked away and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

"All right then," Draco made a motion to Crabbe and Goyle. "Help me carry him."

The two goons managed to carry me all the way inside some hidden shack that I had never visited before putting me down on the floor.

"All right, thanks you two. I'll be back before midnight hopefully with Potter's wand," Draco smirked. "Among other things."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded like the mindless goons they were, and then left.

"All right Potter! Time to see you cringe and beg me for mercy," Draco snorted. "You might cry and scream and beg me to stop like Pansy did when I first had her, but

I'll still be able to hurt you so badly you'll never want to mess with me again." He laughed out loud at the thought of being able to dominate me.

"If only you were awake for this. I'd be able to tell you to your face what I really think of you. How I've loathed you from the first day I met you. How you've disgusted me and made me full of contempt for your very name. Your presence mocks me, telling me how much you think you're worth. Well you know what Potter? You're worth nothing!"

Draco started breathing heavily from yelling out his feelings towards me.

"I wanted to befriend you at first all those years ago, I admit that. When I found out you were Harry Potter, a celebrity my age, I wanted to be your best friend. Help you into the wizarding world. But you had to pick filthy rot like the Weasleys and the Grangers for your friends. The pureblood Malfoy line wasn't good enough for you to touch! And ever since then I've wanted to destroy you! I've wanted to make you miserable and afraid and wish that you had never dared upset me or threaten my family! My family was ruined because of you! And I'm going to make sure that you die because of it!"

The next thing I knew, Draco started slapping my face. They were rather childish slaps, not the strong kind you'd expect from a 17-year-old male. But then Draco had just expressed his childish disdain for me, so I guess it was only fitting that his slaps were like a child's. I tried not to blink or open my eyes, and I bit my lips to keep from laughing.

Draco had thought I had drunk that cider he had given me before we left. But I hadn't drunk it, I had had barely a sip before I realized it was adulterated. If that one sip was enough to make me a bit drowsy, I wonder what the effects of drinking the whole bottle would have been.

As it was, I had to continue to endure Draco's rants for the next hour. If he wasn't trying to beat or bruise me, he was saying hateful things about me, my family, and my friends. I kept trying to remind myself that my staying silent was for everyone I cared about. I only had to wait until Voldemort appeared. Then I could awake and teach them both a lesson about the meaning of pain.

Draco wouldn't shut up or stop what he was doing though. But that's when I started hearing the voice I hadn't heard in so long.

"He is in your possession now…make him beg for death before I arrive to finish him off."

Startled, I forgot I was supposed to be asleep and opened my eyes to see Draco's glazed over. He appeared to be in some sort of trance. He was in Voldemort's possession!

Draco nodded to the voice, his eyes still in a trance. "Yes, master."

"Teach him the true meaning of pain."

"Yes, master."

I wasn't sure what Voldemort meant by the true meaning of pain. I couldn't think of anything worse than the Cruciatus Curse, or Avada Kedavra. I guessed Voldemort wanted Draco to use the former of the two, but somehow I doubted Draco's ability to use those curses. He was never exactly the most adept DADA student when compared to my capabilities. It still tickled me how he messed up his performance during the O.W.L. practical because he was busy glaring at me at the time.

Remembering humorous times was a good diversion for me, especially now. Merlin knew I needed it in order to face my strongest adversities yet. Remembering Draco's ineptness, even though he was at present possessed by Voldemort, somehow managed to assure me that I would win eventually.

I waited until I couldn't hear Voldemort's voice anymore before I readied my wand to attack.

I knew that Draco had his wand already in hand ready to torture me.

Before another second passed, I jumped to my feet and pointed my wand at Draco to yell "Crucio", before realizing that something had changed about my opponent.

Draco wasn't exactly…himself.

He was pudgier, shorter, and looked like…Peter Pettigrew.

My throat tightened and my wand twitched in my hands. "What the hell are you doing here!"

Peter looked very nervous. "Eh….Polyjuice?" He stammered, suddenly nervous. It was then that I noticed the reason why he had only physically abused me without using his wand.

Peter had none with him at the moment. How convenient.

"Where the hell is Draco?"

Peter gulped before answering. "He wasn't finishing the job as quick as Voldemort liked. You were to have been captured and killed by last Christmas. So Voldemort kept Draco with him and made me drink the potion to look like him in order to enter the school and take you out of its confines so you couldn't be protected. It's not been fun having to take on such a nasty role as Draco." He gulped again, and his ears and nose twitched as though he was still the rat I knew him to be.

I tightened my grip on my wand. "You certainly played a very convincing role. How was it that no one, not even Dumbledore, noticed the difference? He placed an Anti-Polyjuice potion on the school a year ago so anyone that entered could not possibly continue a false persona."

"Voldemort managed to contradict the spell somehow," Peter insisted. "He put a spell on me to make me even act like Draco."

I nodded. So Draco had been just as reluctant to play the role of Potter's lover as much as I had been reluctant to "seduce" him. Peter's version certainly explained how "Draco" so quickly managed to act so kindly toward me so easily for so long. "What is Voldemort doing with Draco? Where are they?"

Peter seemed at a loss for words. "Voldemort has him placed with the other Death Eaters."

His words seemed truthful, yet for some reason, I felt like Peter was fudging. Even though he answered a lot of questions I had, something didn't add up. Why would Voldemort so willingly give up on Draco as a foil and use Peter, his most loyal servant, instead? Wouldn't Peter more likely be required to stand by Voldemort at all times if he was so dependable?

Knowing Peter's past behavior to my father, his friends, and me, I knew some truth was missing, and tried to find the answer. Somehow, Peter had managed to organize this himself and make Voldemort think it was his idea, even though I doubted even Peter was that clever to do so. For the moment, I tried to think like Hermione would. "You were jealous of Draco, weren't you?"

Peter's face turned pale. "What?"

"You were worried Voldemort would use Draco as his right hand man and then get rid of you because you were the one who wasn't contributing as much. So you managed somehow to convince him that although Draco was jealous of me, he wouldn't seek to kill me because it was love, not hate that affected his jealousy? Voldemort kept Draco then, and gave you the job. You never stop manipulating, do you? Even the ones you fear, so long as you ensure your self-preservation. You really are a rat."

That explained even more to me. Why Dumbledore really wanted me to pretend to be Draco's lover. Because he knew it was what Voldemort believed. That was why Draco was in trouble right now. Why Peter was there instead.

All this was flowing in my head so fast like a melting blurry of images I wanted it to stop. I didn't want to think like Hermione anymore. I had had enough with headaches.

Peter seemed a bit frightened by my cold unraveling of his actions, because he kept twitching. I guess he was afraid I would eventually kill him, even though I had saved his life before. I could never forget how he gave me up to Voldemort during the Triwizard Tournament two years ago. It was time to avenge myself.

I stopped wasting time. It was now necessary to fight.

"Crucio!" I raised my wand and a flash of light swept out, causing Peter to fall on his knees and writhe on the floor in pain.

Another thought hit me. If Draco was supposed to have captured me by Christmas and didn't, wasn't that the time that Peter used Polyjuice to transform into him? Could Peter have been the one that killed Remus? The thought paralyzed all other feeling from my mind. Now I truly was numb from any empathy I might have felt for Peter.

In anger, out of bitter resentment for losing my parents, Sirius, and Remus, I began to act out all my frustration. "You enjoyed kicking and slapping me, didn't you Peter? For once in your life, you felt strong and independent, like you didn't need anyone to depend on to save your neck. Never mind the fact that I should be the one kicking and slapping you! You bastard! You killed everyone that was worth something to me! Why should you, a worthless, pathetic scrap of nothing, be allowed to survive?"

Peter started to moan on the floor. I could see that there were tears in his eyes, possibly from the pain, I was inflicting on him, but I didn't care. I was probably behaving like Voldemort at the moment, but nothing mattered except my need to release my hatred. For the moment, I was the one in control.

"I see that the hate has managed to make you like one of us now," a cold voice said behind me.

I knew who it was, and didn't want to turn around and face what I had to, but I did anyway.

"Voldemort. It's about time you showed up instead of forcing your lackeys to do all your dirty work," I replied in the nastiest voice I could imagine.

Voldemort laughed his cold hard laugh, and pointed a finger at Peter. "It really is amusing how you believe things so readily, and confuse things so easily. Did you really believe that to only be Peter? Could it not just as easily be…Draco?"

I turned my head to see that Peter had indeed turned back into Draco, his eyes pale silver. Voldemort laughed at the confusement in my face. "It's Polyjuice, Peter told me!" I protested, trying to understand the sudden rapidity of the bodily transformation.

"So it is hard for you to believe that one body can hold two different beings at once?" he smirked.

I felt stunned. "How?" my voice rasped out weakly. But my mind had somehow already accepted the revelation. Voldemort didn't trust Draco, and he must have decided to cease with Peter's manipulation, because he used this body to control both minds at once.

"It's wizard's play, with a bit of ancient magic. Just conjure a transfer of the minds and senses. I only wish I had discovered this perfect spell, the Double Consciousness spell, sooner. How amusing it will be to see if the body can hold not two, but three, this time."

By the glimmer in his eyes I knew that he had planned to use my mind as well, to manipulate and destroy the security and well being of everyone else. All before he destroyed me. And possibly Draco and Peter as well. Voldemort abused the loyalty of his followers; they cared more for his life than he did for theirs.

"You'll have to kill me in order to take my mind," I told Voldemort, the steely cold tone back in my voice.

He laughed again mockingly. "We shall see. Now tell me the prophecy that I have waited so long to hear in full."

I gave Peter/Draco a glance before I nodded. It was very difficult to believe that one body could fuse two personalities of two beings so easily without confliction. But hopefully it would not have to merge a third as well. I would do everything I could to prevent it.

"I was the one you chose to be your threat to your power. Either you kill me, or I kill you, because we cannot live in the same world. One of us will have to go to the next, if there is one," I told him albeit unwillingly, but at the moment, I had no other choice.

Voldemort nodded. "Is that all?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Well, it appears that since I cannot kill you because of our wands, that I shall have to depend on Peter or Draco to take yours from you so I can do it properly." He smiled.

"Draco, come here," he ordered of the body. I could no longer call it either Draco or Peter, they were not in their respective forms; I could not consider them to be entire entities.

"Draco" came forward with the same cold look as Voldemort.

"Now, use your wand to attack him. Have fun torturing him before I finish him off," Voldemort ordered him.

"Yes Master," Draco replied. I thought for a minute my ears were deceiving me, because it sounded like Peter's voice and not Draco's. Could the body possibly have an overload of minds? Could Peter and Draco be internally fighting with each other in order to have one consciousness dominate the other? Voldemort really was a sick individual to consider a spell like this. It had to be illegal, but I had never heard of it. Perhaps even Dumbledore and Moody had not. Was it so very ancient?

Ancient magic. Just like the magic my mother had used to save me. Could Voldemort be learning from his mistakes and starting to rely more on the past in order to preserve his future? The thought was a bit staggering. What or who would save me now?

As if he were reading my mind, Voldemort's voice called to me, "There is nothing that can save you, Potter. Accept death. It is inevitable anyway."

"NEVER!" I yelled out, wondering how to prevent the body from doing what it was ordered. Order…if Voldemort ordered one conscious, what happened to the other once it was changed? Would it carry out the order as well?

Giving my guess a test, I yelled out "Expelliarmus!" with my wand. Draco's wand came flying out of his hand, and he looked down at it, scowling.

Voldemort looked irritated as I quickly managed to grab Draco's wand and place it in my hand. He closed his eyes, and muttered some incantation, and the next thing I knew, Draco had turned back into Peter. Then Voldemort repeated the order he had given Draco.

Another revelation came into my head. Both consciousness couldn't be given the same order at once, and once they changed to another they had to be retold in order to function. This was useful information, but how could it help me win?

Peter started walking towards me. "Crucio!" I yelled out loud with my wand before he could respond, and he dropped his wand and crumpled in pain for the second time that day.

Voldemort was growing even more irritated with his minions' lack of success. "You fool!" he yelled out.

I was thankful that he could not use his wand on me without fear of destruction. I grabbed Peter's wand before Voldemort could attempt to take it and pointed all three wands at him and the body. "It's three against one, Voldemort, but not in your favor," I told him.

Before Voldemort could stop me, I directed all three wands towards the body that contained Peter and Draco's consciousness. An inner conscious was filled in my own mind, one that was directing my motions and abilities. Perhaps it was the spirits of my parents, perhaps it was the link between my friends that encouraged me, but somehow I managed to speak the counter spell that would lift the Double Consciousness off without even thinking of its meaning.

"Ante Conscimentium!"

Wisps of smoke trailed from the three wands and separated a spirit from the body…I could not see clearly, but I guessed it was Draco's spirit that left, because the body became more pronounced in shape and size…the same size as Peter's, in fact.

With that, Peter's consciousness came to focus, and he glanced about his surroundings in confusion and terror. "Master?" he managed to croak out as he looked up at Voldemort, whom I knew was not pleased with the turnabouts. He really underestimated me more than he should have. Granted, it had been three against one, but where were his Death Eaters?

"You fool!" Voldemort repeated again. "Give me your wand! I should have just used it to begin with and not wasted time using a spell that did not work as I had hoped it would!" He had forgotten that I still held Peter's wand. Just to infuriate him further, I held it up teasingly.

"Get both wands, Peter! Draco is obviously not going to reach us in time! He is just as much of a nuisance as his father was!"

His father? My mind started with a new sense of questioning. Could Voldemort, in a fit of frustration, have killed off some of his Death Eaters who were not providing him with the information and sources he needed? If so, Draco's father had to be one of them. No wonder Voldemort cast the Double Consciousness Spell. He feared that he would lose control of Draco, who must have been furious at his father's loss, regardless of how insensitive a father Mr. Malfoy appeared. But why had he needed to control Peter also?

My mental questioning was now going to cost me. Voldemort had shrunk Peter to his Animagus form, and before I knew it, I had lost sight of Peter. I held three wands in my hand and could not tell where the rat had disappeared. I didn't need to wonder for long. Within seconds, a pair of sharp teeth bit me in the arm…how fast he was and how adapt at managing to crawl up my body without my noticing! And in reaction to the pain, I stupidly dropped two of the wands…and could only gain control of one in my unsteady grasp.

Peter then scurried back to Voldemort's side and transformed back into his human form, squeaking in delight that he had managed to cleverly do his master's bidding. Voldemort now seemed immensely cheerful in contrast to his prior discontent.

"Three against one in my favor now, Harry Potter," Voldemort insisted. He turned to Peter. "Now, take away his wand."

Peter pointed his wand at me and attempted an incantation of "Expelliarmus". But for some reason, he couldn't attempt the spell.

Voldemort was now back to a state of discontent. "What is wrong with your bloody wand!" He roared in his cold voice of steel.

"I don't know!" Peter cried out, disoriented with his sudden lack of magic ability.

Peter's fumbling and Voldemort's irritation allowed me finally to direct with my wand a sudden attack…on Voldemort.

"Expelliarmus!" I cried out.

What I didn't realize was that Voldemort had traded wands…he now held Draco's in his hand, and had given Peter his own.

"Crucio!" he screamed furiously, and unfortunately I was hit, and fell to the floor, writhing in pain just as Peter had done when I had hit him with the same spell.

But Voldemort's fury was more violent than any I could ever possess, and he didn't stop with one curse, he continued on until my body was crunched over, and my mind was wanting it to end…all the pain and misery I had ever felt in my life was now penetrating my body a thousand fold.

Through a misty haze, as I couldn't really view anything properly, my mind was so distorted with visions of pain and possible death, I noticed Peter looking on me with…pity? I wanted to scoff at the thought. He had killed my parents in his weakness, and destroyed countless other lives because of his choice of allegiance. But could this moment of possible death for me cause an end of hope for the world?

It was then that I noticed something peculiar through the haziness. Peter was not gazing at me anymore; he was gazing at Voldemort, and hesitantly pointed his wand at him. A strangled gasp caught in my throat as I remembered what Dumbledore had told me in my third year. About Peter being indebted to me for saving his life when Sirius and Remus attempted to kill him.

As Voldemort was about to deliver a final curse at me, Peter finally stepped forward and feebly shouted "Crucio!" at him with his wand.

Voldemort lowered his wand slightly as the wave of the curse hit him unexpectedly, but managed to shield himself from the full force of the spell.

"YOU IDIOT!" He screamed at Peter. "Whose side are you on!" And in retaliation for Peter's faulty move, Voldemort pointed his wand at him and screamed "AVADA KEDAVRA!" And as soon as the flash of green light hit him, Peter collapsed, his knees buckling, his wand falling out of his grasp.

With no more words to offer his right hand servant who had served him so faithfully for the past several years, Voldemort turned back towards me, an evil, excited look of determination and finality on his face.

"It's time you said good bye to this world, Harry Potter, for though you managed to beat me for the past 17 years, you will lose for certain. The prophecy will finally declare me the winner. AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed with a thrill of ecstasy as he pointed the wand at me, ready to finish me off, as he had always dreamed.

It took five seconds. One for the flash of green light to shoot towards me. One for me to close my eyes in foreboding of what was to occur. One for the light to bounce back like a boomerang. One to hit Voldemort squarely in the chest. And one for Voldemort to entirely diminish within a thousand sparkles of light that magically dispersed and vanished.

Peter had paid his life debt to me by sacrificing his own. The ancient magic my mother had used to save me once had saved me again, only this time thanks to Peter. Well, it was not love, but self-sacrifice, and in a way, I knew it partly was an attempt to make up for the wrongdoing Peter had caused by betraying my parents. Peter didn't have to sacrifice his life for me. But he did, and by doing so, had managed to save the world.

Oddly enough, the prophecy was not entirely true. I did not have to directly be the one to kill Voldemort. I only had to endure seventeen years of torture and two years belief that I did eventually have to be the one in order for Peter to come to his senses and realize that he was on the wrong side. Peter, in the end, was the hero, not me.

I never thought it would end this way.

As I arrived back at Hogwarts, disheveled, carrying Peter's dead body (with the magic of my wand, since I certainly could not possibly manage to carry his body with my bare hands) everyone at the castle greeted me with fear and awe in their eyes. I ignored them, even Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who were stunned and silent upon seeing me. I knew everyone expected answers from me, but at the moment I could give none. I wanted several myself.

I headed straight to Dumbledore's office.

He wasn't surprised to see me. He always seemed to know what to expect of me, and he wasn't even surprised to see my magical transportation of Peter's corpse.

"So Voldemort is finally destroyed once and for all," he calmly stated as he bid me sit down.

I nodded grimly.

"And Peter died repaying his debt to you," Dumbledore continued.

I nodded again.

"And you have come here, wondering how the prophecy did not come about the way you expected."

"Yes," was the only word to escape my lips.

"Prophecies have not always turned about the way they are expected to. It is because of the spontaneous turn of sudden events, the continuous tide of change, the imminent nature of the number of overwhelming possibilities in existence, that cause prophecies to cease from becoming anything other than merely prophecies, not realities. It was not entirely possible that a child could be born to grow and eventually vanquish Voldemort, although it was a possibility, and here he stands right before me, proof that the prophecy occurred." Dumbledore stopped to gently smile at me.

I did not wish for his bouts of kindness of compassion at the moment. I only wanted simple, straightforward answers. Answers that he would so reluctantly give.

"I myself cannot explain for why this particular prophecy turned out the way it did. The only explanation I can give you is that for the purpose of saving you and ridding evil, a life was sacrificed."

"But that's not a good enough explanation!" I shouted, tired of his incessant ramblings. "I want to know why I was born, that my parents were killed, and that hundreds of lives were destroyed all for the sake of a stupid damn prophecy that didn't turn out as it should! I want to know why for the past seven years I have dealt with an evil wizard intent on destroying me and for the past two years I have believed I was to be the one to kill him, and then have all this expectation, all this training, all these attempted methods to discover a truth that didn't exist!"

Dumbledore's gentle smile turned into a concerned, heavy frown. "I know you are feeling troubled and confused as to why Peter's death managed to destroy Voldemort instead of a simple "Avada Kedavra" performed by you…"

"NO YOU DAMN WELL DO NOT KNOW HOW I FEEL!" And with that I sat down, tears rolling down my cheeks, pouring out the grief and pain and nearly intolerable frustration and misery and fear that I had felt for the past several hours. "I thought I was going to DIE! And then all that had to happen, all that was needed to destroy Voldemort once and for all, was Peter's repayment of a life debt! Fucking bloody Peter! The man who killed my parents…HE manages to save me! I'm the fucking bloody hopeless case that everyone has to save in order to win! I'm the one that has to stay alive and accept glory and praise for accomplishments that weren't mine! That were NEVER mine to begin with!"

I had never felt so miserable and confused in all my life.

Dumbledore did not seem offended by my use of profanity in his office, he merely conjured a tissue box for me to use to control my sniffling as I ranted like a child.

"I'm certain that you feel like there was no reason for you to be born, that the prophecy intended for you wasn't necessary after all, but I can assure you that that is not the case. Who defeated Voldemort his first year to save the Philosopher's Stone for being used for the wrong purposes? You did. Who managed to discover the Chamber of Secrets and destroy the diary to save Ginny and defeat Voldemort's past self? You did. Who saved an innocent man and animal from death while protecting another, less innocent man's life? You did. For the past seven years your actions proved that while Voldemort attempted to cause ruin for his own purposes, you would be there to stop him from attaining his goal. If you had not saved Peter, what would have happened? Perhaps Voldemort would have managed to win after all. Your courageous desire to fight for goodness and justice is what validated the prophecy. Because of you, Voldemort was destroyed. It was Peter's decision to use his life debt to save you in order to prevent Voldemort from winning, yes, but his actions did not make the prophecy any less viable. It only proved that through you, Voldemort could be vanquished, and goodness could win in the end. That is all that matters. You did not directly destroy Voldemort in the way you expected, but the prophecy proved that you were a necessary product in order to ensure his demise."

I was sobbing now. I needed to release all the heartache and emotional turmoil I had been suffering. It felt good to release the tension. Dumbledore came forward, his arms outstretched, and he embraced me so tenderly and tightly that my tears were muffled against his robes.

"It is perhaps wrong of me to feel so, but I have always regarded you as a father would a son, or perhaps, due to my old age, as a grandfather would a grandson. I am very proud of you, and I am sure your parents and Sirius and Remus would be just as proud."

I took deep gasping breaths when Dumbledore released me, slightly embarrassed that I had cried so hard in his presence. I was a seventeen-year-old male, after all. But I noticed that there were tears twinkling in his eyes as well, so I tried to stop the sudden self-consciousness.

It was then that Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape entered the office.

"Dumbledore, what is all the commotion about? Is what the students saying true? Has Potter really…?" then they noticed Peter's corpse and my sullenness, and fell silent.

Dumbledore turned to them with an air of decorum. "Yes, it is true. Voldemort has been vanquished for once and for all."

"Thank Merlin," McGonagall sniffed in approval and relief.

"So we owe this to Potter, I suppose?" Snape asked, disbelief in his voice.

"No," I answered him before Dumbledore could. "We owe it to Peter Pettigrew."

Snape's mouth made a snapping noise, as though he could no longer speak, while McGonagall stared at me in utter amazement.

"What? Can…this be true, Albus?"

Dumbledore looked at me with admiration in his eyes, and a touch of sadness. "Yes, according to Potter, Peter saved his life and thus destroyed Voldemort."

"Well, this is certainly a surprising turn of events," McGonagall replied, stunned by the revelation.

"It is time to notify all of Hogwarts, not to mention the Ministry of Magic. I'm sure Susan Bones will be delighted to hear of the news," Dumbledore declared.

McGonagall and Snape nodded, and left the office, clearly unsure as to how to react to what I had told them.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to me, and looked over my shoulder at Peter's corpse. "I suppose we should turn his body over to his surviving family. Peter will be remembered for his late, though everlasting contribution to this world."

I nodded somberly. A part of me still resented the way events had turned, but a part of me was relieved that for once in the past seven years, the attention would not be focused on me as the "hero." Dumbledore seemed to sense my conflicting emotions and added, "That is not to say, however, that you will not be receiving similar acknowledgement and rewards from the Ministry as well."

"Professor?"

"Yes Harry?"

"If all this was to transpire, then what exactly…was the purpose of my pretending to be Draco's lover?"

Dumbledore smiled. "That was part of my brilliantly conceived plan to attempt to convert Draco. The Wizarding World is not aware of this, but Voldemort killed his father several months ago, while Draco was indoctrined as a Death Eater. It is believed that although Voldemort wanted to addition of Draco to enlargen his supporters, he feared that their father/son bond would threaten any gains he made. So when Mr. Malfoy failed in an attempt to kidnap you last year, Voldemort was biding his time to rid of him. Snape, working as an undercover Death Eater for our side, as you know, informed us that Draco's initiation involved performing the Avada Kedavra curse on his own father, as a test to ensure his loyalty to Voldemort."

Ignoring my barely concealed shock, Dumbledore continued, "When his mother found out, she committed the curse on herself. Draco became emotionally disturbed to the point where Voldemort had to convert his consciousness and memory so he could not damage himself mentally or ruin their chances of success. That is one reason why he discovered the Double Consciousness Spell, an ancient spell that hasn't been used since the Age of Merlin. The other was of course so he could control both Peter and Draco simultaneously in one body in order to further disguise their purposes from others if need be. As it was, Draco was the one who killed your mentor and former Professor Remus Lupin. He had been ordered to do so by Voldemort, as they both knew how attached you were to him and hoped you would willingly go out and seek him to inflict revenge."

"It worked," I admitted quietly.

Dumbledore nodded. "And so it did. But Draco's mind was being controlled by Voldemort; he had no control over his own consciousness."

"He still would have killed Lupin just to spite me," I protested bitterly.

"Draco has been placed into his own body and is now in St. Mungo's. They are working to stabilize his rapidly deteriorating mental and physical conditions, for if a person's consciousness is out of his body for too long, then he loses the ability to control his own mind, not to mention return to his own body. Peter was fortunate that his body was the one being penetrated, so the damage to him while still alive was slight."

"You still haven't answered why I needed to pretend to be Draco's lover," I reminded him.

"Draco needed the support and friendship, well, at least the allusion of it, if to aid him emotionally more than anything else."

"He had Crabbe and Goyle."

"Crabbe and Goyle's minds were being penetrated as well. Voldemort became so paranoid with the fear that his Death Eaters would rally against him in the attempt to push him out of power. Draco and Peter, he saw, were the least likely to commit further allegiance, as was why he controlled their minds the deepest. He knew Peter was in debted to you, that was why he attempted to have Peter be the one to torture you and relinquish your wand from you so that he would have full power and control and so you wouldn't have a chance."

"So this whole situation was manipulated in order to save Draco?"

"Somewhat."

It was ironic how things worked out. I knew that Dumbledore planned to encourage Draco to turn to our side. He would treat Draco the same as he did Snape; forgive their transgressions, so long as they committed loyalty to the benefit of the Order of the Phoenix. I was used as the foil, to directly influence Draco. Even though apparently Dumbledore knew all along there was no point in that. He could not have been helped with the Double Consciousness Spell invading his body and mind. Sometimes I wondered if Dumbledore came up with diversions just to confuse things further.

"What if Draco didn't want to be saved?" I asked. Somehow, I felt that for once, I identified with Draco. He had lost family that he cared for, and that had torn him on the inside. He probably allowed for Voldemort to control his mind so he would be numb from the pain and the grief.

Dumbledore sighed. "It is his choice, ultimately. I was hoping that he would eventually come to see that certain Gryffindors are not all that bad, as you would find the same to hold for certain Slytherins."

"I'm not gay," I insisted. "I just let people think that because I didn't want them to know how I fear losing people I'm close to. That's why I didn't mind them thinking that Draco and I were lovers. Otherwise I would have minded. Sometimes I feel like I just survived an alternate universe."

Dumbledore smiled. "Your sexual orientation is of no importance, Harry. Only your choices are. They determine who you are, as I have already said. My only concern is that you have looked behind the true importance of this façade I created."

"What is that?" I asked.

"It was partly to save Draco that I suggested you initiate the pretense of you two having a relationship. But it was also to teach you that being in one is not going to ensure the other's loss of life. Draco is still alive, though I am certain that you never actually contained the feelings for him everyone else thought you did." His eyes twinkled in amusement again.

"I have friends that I care for and that care for me, I didn't need you to try to create a false relationship for me in order to prove something. I have Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, Dean and Seamus. And Ginny. Ginny…How is she?"

The amusement seemed to grow. "She is fine. Worried for you of course. Irritated because apparently her brother Ron and friend Hermione have been keeping their relationship secret for the past several weeks."

Was there nothing kept hidden from the Headmaster? "I figured as much myself. Took them long enough."

"Apparently I was wrong. You do seem to have strong attachments in abundance. But the main importance is that you learn that love does not cause destruction, it embodies safety and strength. As was proven by Peter's sacrifice."

"So what happens now?" I asked him, wanting to change the subject.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Your future is entirely yours to decide, Harry. It always was, and it always will be."

As I nodded, and left Peter's corpse for Dumbledore to attend to before the Ministress of Magic, Susan Bones, arrived to hear the story, I couldn't help considering all the overwhelming aspects of the past 24 hours again. Why Draco's emotional struggle caused him to react so violently to me when he had me alone before Voldemort arrived. My prior amusement to his reaction now converted into pity for what he must have suffered under Voldemort's control. And Peter. What a change from the pitiful, pathetic human I once considered him to be. He had proven himself otherwise. My main regret was no longer that I could not fulfill the prophecy as I had thought it to be dictated.

It was that in my wildest fantasies, none of them imagined that it would end this way.

Epilogue:

And so here I am, in my thirties, a witness to the end of Voldemort, as everyone reminds me.

Ron and Hermione have since wed and have a daughter named Jane, who has her father's red hair and fondness for chess, and a son named Harold (in my honor) who has his mother's love of reading and school. They all live together happily, though not altogether peacefully.

Draco had multitudes of mental treatment spells administered to him by St. Mungo's before he was released and put into the care of the Order of the Phoenix, which dedicated itself to saving other "lost wizards" who had dark pasts they needed to forget. Draco married Pansy, who bore him two children he named after his parents. He refuses to allow his children to take DADA classes at Hogwarts, claiming it encourages threatening behavior. Some wizards can change…in odd ways.

A statue of my parents, Sirius, Remus and Peter was erected in the Ministry of Magic in honor of their sacrifice for the good of the world. Hermione sees it every day as she walks by to the office she created, "Ministry of Laboring and Underprivileged Creatures". Or as Ron jokingly refers to it, "SPEW".

Dean and Parvati are now incorporating soccer as a Wizarding Sport. Seamus moved to Ireland with Lavender. Ron is a Chaser for the Chudley Cannons by day, an Auror by night. As is Hermione, Neville (who married Luna, who is happily devoted to taking over her father's newspaper, The Quibbler), and Ginny.

Did I mention that Ginny is my wife and mother of our twelve children?

James, Lily, Ronald, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Pete, Cedric, Albus, Minerva, Rubeus, and Ginevra.

Some prophecies, however bizarre they seem, do come true.

Professor Trelawney never fails to smugly remind me of this each day during mealtime at Hogwarts.

I am a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

My children sometimes resent my presence at school. They feel self-conscious when I tease them in front of their friends when they're in my class, or when I punish them more harshly for breaking the rules I broke at their age.

Dumbledore has retired since my graduation from Hogwarts, and McGonagall took over as Headmistress. Snape resents me more than ever, for taking over a job he desired for years. He resents me also for the fact that I am the Quidditch coach and aid the Gryffindor team in beating Slytherin every year.

As I write this journal of my life, I realize that even though I live every day in a similar routine without question, that one thing never ceases to amaze me.

I never thought it would end this way.