Epilogue

The Death Eaters sat dejectedly round the table. Not one of them was speaking to any of the others, all thanks to the Writer. They all glanced at each other occasionally in complete silence.

"I believe it is time to go recruiting again, my Lord," Yaxley broke the silence, "we cannot sit here forever."

"And have another fiasco like last time?" Lucius spoke up, staring pointedly at Bellatrix, "losing a capable wizard thanks to Miss Curled-Up-On-The-Grass-Heaving-And-Sobbing, here?"

Greyback burst out laughing, humming a circus theme. Bellatrix pulled a face, folding her arms defensively.

"That's rich, coming from the likes of you," she hissed, "congratulations are in order, by the way. You each have twenty thousand "hits" on something called a "YouTube"!"

The Death Eaters all leapt out of their seats, each wand raised to fire on someone.

"Silence!" Voldemort barked, trying to restore order.

"Oh, shut it, Snake Boy!" they all cried, "why should we take commands from someone who listens to Shania Twain, for Merlin's sake?"

That did it. All Hell broke loose. Jets of light were flung from every corner of the room, bouncing off walls and leaving burns and cracks in the floor. Everyone duelled with everyone else, except for Pettigrew, who had seen it as a perfect moment to come out by wrapping his arms around Lucius' torso and refusing to be prised off. Lucius dragged him around the room, ducking and diving as the spells got closer.

"Let go of me!" he bellowed at Pettigrew.

"No, I refuse!" Pettigrew smiled up at him, blinking his eyes, trying to make them look big, "I love you!"

Nobody had seen Severus Snape calmly get up from his seat and leave.

Meanwhile, in an office at an undisclosed location, the Writer and two of her friends, Charlotte and Marita, had raised glasses of Firewhiskey in a toast.

"To memories! Happy, sad, funny...as long as the funny ones are embarrassing, and not our own, of course...cheers!"

The glasses clinked together and they downed the drink.

"What have you got planned next?" Charlotte relaxed back in her chair, setting her glass on the desk.

"I don't know, I guess it should be up to the readers to tell me what they want. After all, it's them reading it, not me."

"Can we make suggestions?" Marita asked.

"Of course, fire away..." the Writer gestured for them to proceed, when there was a knock at the door. The Writer turned, "come in!"

Severus Snape's hooked nose and shoulder length black hair poked round the door as it opened.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked. The Writer waved him inside.

"No, of course not," she smiled, but it wasn't a cheeky grin that she'd shown to the others, "please, come in and have a seat."

Snape stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He took the seat next to Charlotte.

"This is Charlotte and her partner in crime, Marita," the Writer introduced them all, "we were just having a little celebration in light of recent events."

The Writer poured out another three glasses of Firewhiskey, "Would you like to join us?"

"No, thank you," Snape leaned forward in the chair, "I actually only came to ask a favour."

"Why, I'm flattered," the Writer sat back, "what favour would this be, then?"

Snape paused, as though figuring out what to say, "How much would you be willing to sell the memories to me – I of course mean the Order – for?"

The Writer thought about it, tapping her chin.

"Let's haggle," she grinned, speaking at last.

And that's a wrap, ladies and gentlemen! Goodnight, that was our show!

Tell me your thoughts in the comments! Until next time (with hopefully more ideas), this is Kassandra Lorelei signing off.