He's Not Dead Yet
Well, it's come down to this. The last couple chapters. It has been a long, long ride writing this; I've had to overcome obstacles, like writer's block and some reviewers who clearly never learned that if you can't say something nice then don't say anything at all (don't worry, I'll be sure to trash them in my memoirs). Oddly enough, most of the negative comments seemed to have been in reference to my use of Monty Python (which I specifically stated from the beginning I would be using).
Anyway, it's down to our final two chapters and so I'll leave you all to it. Once again, I do not own Harry Potter or any references (either Monty Python or other).
So Much for Pathos
It was a balmy summer afternoon when the Wizengamot was called in to try Albus Dumbledore for his crimes. Personally, Harry Potter would have much preferred to be having a picnic with his girlfriends now that school was out for summer holiday. Of course, his immense desire to see Dumbledore finally removed as a potential threat did compensate for the length of time it took to get through all the charges and testimonies; as Harry was one of the injured parties, he would not be sitting in judgement amongst the Wizengamot and so he and his girlfriends had taken up seats in the gallery. Harry's gaze drifted over to where his former headmaster sat slumped miserably in the chain-chair used to hold potentially dangerous offenders.
Things had finally gotten to some level of normalcy after the new "final battle" and the biggest threats to Harry's life and happiness were properly neutralized. Dumbledore was going to be sent to prison, Voldemort was nothing more than a puddle of ooze underneath a 16-ton weight (which had been officially made into a national monument), and as for Ron and Ginny…well, they actually got off pretty lightly considering everything that had happened. It goes without saying that the git and the fangirl were officially barred from Hogwarts, but their decision to hire a Rent-a-Mob had prevented Dumbledore's own forces from causing any damage, so they were simply required to attend psychological counseling and some community service. Whatever happened to them after that, Harry didn't care.
"All those in favor of conviction will raise their illuminated wands," said the prosecutor.
It was unanimous.
"Albus Dumbledore, do you have anything to say before we pass judgement?" said Amelia Bones.
"Yes, Madam Bones, I do," Dumbledore replied haughtily. "I admit, for the last century or so, I've been a lying, backstabbing, two-faced, despicable crook. But I had no choice. I was in politics. If I may, I will now go into a long and tedious lecture about exactly why what I did was in everyone's best interests and why you should let me keep my freedom despite my numerous crimes."
There was a collective groan from everyone assembled.
"From the very beginning, I knew that only I possessed the ability to impartially reason the correct course of magical Britain through the long and treacherous time that is the twentieth century. My start began one fine summer afternoon when I had just set the kettle on…"
People began pulling out magazines and novels to pass the time.
"…I mean I couldn't just throw Tom Riddle out of Hogwarts just because it was so obvious he was evil. Even if I was the most well-respected professor, I knew I couldn't simply open an investigation into the attacks of the 40s, even though I knew that acromantulas can't petrify people…"
Quills were set on auto-pilot as the court scribes began to doze. And on it went, with Dumbledore going over all his charges in the most clinical and boring description ever heard outside of Professor Binns' lectures. Harry began to suspect Dumbledore was drawing his speech out as much as he could so that the Wizengamot would just be so desperate for it to end that they'd forget why he was even there in the first place.
"…Madam Marchbanks never used to bother. But then, of course, she was very old, she was two-hundred-and-six…"
"How much longer is he going to talk?" Fay muttered from the seat behind Harry.
"For as long as he wants," Susan moaned quietly. "Damn rules say the defendant can give his final statements with no time limit and no one can interrupt."
Harry noticed Hermione, normally a great lover of lectures, was beginning to bang her head slightly against the short desk that protruded from the back of the chair in front of her.
"…And, of course, I deny most emphatically that I was ever romantically involved with that sheep, no matter what the medical reports say…"
Many people had fallen asleep. Even Madam Bones, who must have been used to such speeches from previous defendants, looked very near to going under from the sheer boredom.
"…Which reminds me of an extremely long story about how I got this scar on my leg that forms a perfect map of the London underground…"
Eventually, Dumbledore finally got to the end of his closing statement and everyone shook themselves awake.
"…And so, to conclude, I hope very much that you won't have to take away my freedom. Because, dear members of the Wizengamot, freedom is a state much prized within the realm of civilized society. It is a bond wherewith the savage man may charm the outward hatchments of his soul and soothe the troubled breast into a magnitude of quiet. It is most precious as a blessed balm, the savior of princes, the harbinger of happiness, yea, the very stuff and pith of all we hold most dear. What frees the prisoner in his lonely cell, chained within the bondage of rude walls, far from the owl of Thebes? What fires and stirs the woodcock in his springe or wakes the drowsy apricot betides?! What goddess doth the storm toss'd mariner offer her most tempestuous prayers to?! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"
There was a moment of silence in which everyone just stared at him.
"Right, thank you for that very…interesting final statement, Mr. Dumbledore," said Madam Bones. "The Wizengamot will now give their decision concerning punishment."
"Anything!" one member yelled frantically. "We don't care! Just get rid of him!"
"Please!" another added. "Just make him and his lectures go away!"
The ensuing fracas was calmed down after a few minutes and a decision was reached for life imprisonment. Many would have preferred to have him chucked through the Veil or given the Dementor's Kiss, but at that point no one cared one way or the other what happened to the old man as long as he was out of that courtroom. Dumbledore gave a resigned sigh as he was handcuffed.
"It's a fair cop but society is to blame," he said.
"Quite frankly, I'm against those who give vent to their loquacity by extraneous, bombastic circumlocution," said Luna. Everyone turned to stare at her. "Well, I don't like that."
"Sometimes, Luna, I think you're almost human," said Hermione.
Seventh year had come and passed, the innocent can never last…wait, wrong line. But yes, seventh year had finished after an extremely uneventful sixth, which had followed a very mild summer. Harry had finished packing up his belongings and went down to the Founders' Quarters common room to meet with the others. He took his usual seat at the table, where earlier had been stacks of papers concerning Splunge Inc., Hogwarts educational reviews, concepts for political reform, notes on new business, and brochures on exotic locations.
"All packed?" Neville asked.
"Just finished," said Harry. "Got your summer plans all sorted?"
"Hannah and I are going on an expedition to South America to study rare plant species."
"Excellent, Neville." Harry then turned to his girlfriends, who had already joined the gathering at the table. "And what do the brilliant masterminds behind our alliance have planned for the future?"
"Short vacation followed by entrance examinations for Miskatonic," said Hermione promptly.
"Working on my tan before working on my Potions mastery," said Daphne.
"Joining Daphne at the beach and then off to art school," said Tracey.
"Quidditch tryouts coming up," said Fay. "I may have a bit of free time before they come up, though."
"Searching for Snorkacks," said Luna. "I've come to believe they may prefer saltwater areas to freshwater. Then back to work for the good old Quibbler."
"And I've got Auror training in the fall," said Susan. "Right after a brief respite involving swimming, sunbathing, dancing, and volleyball."
"Well, this sounds like it delightfully coincides with what I myself had planned," said Harry with a grin.
"Oh, knock it off, Harry," said Fay. "You're the one who invited us to go with you to that resort in the first place."
Harry snorted and turned back to Neville.
"You and Hannah can drop by anytime, Neville. We'll keep the music loud, the drinks cold, and an extra suite open for you two."
"She still hasn't stopped talking about your engagement," said Susan. "I can't help but feel like I'm going to get roped into bridesmaid duty."
The news that Neville Longbottom had proposed to Hannah Abbott on the last day of school had spread like wildfire and it caused Harry to think about his own future. He was already set for life and didn't need to work, though he fully intended to keep up with Splunge Inc., but he knew his girlfriends were not inclined to settle down until they'd started on their own careers. While Neville and Hannah seemed to be practically joined at the hip since they began going steady, Harry's situation was a little more complicated.
Each of Harry's girlfriends had her own set of interests she was inclined to pursue and Harry had no intention of hindering any of them. Harry had come to the conclusion that Hermione, Luna, Susan, Fay, Daphne, and Tracey were exactly the women he was destined to be with (if he believed in destiny, of course), but he would respect their desires to help shape the world, even as he became slightly more disinterested in it now that his major adversaries were no longer in the picture.
For now, though, he would do what he could to help, love, and support them in everything they did.
"…And so, I declare this to be the Hogwarts Graduating Class of 1998," Headmistress McGonagall concluded her speech to the cheers of the students as they tossed their pointed hats into the air.
As Harry milled through the crowd, getting patted on the back by his classmates, he took the opportunity to really look around him. Sirius and Bathsheba were there, along with their little daughter Celeste, as were Remus and Tonks, and their newborn son Teddy. Everywhere there were joyful, smiling graduates and their families; they would live long, peaceful, and prosperous lives untainted by a bloody and pointless war.
Things would finally be right, things would finally be right for everyone.
As part of the Hogwarts tradition, the graduating class rode across the Black Lake in the same boats that brought them to the school as first years. So, Harry climbed into a boat, not minding who else got in with him, and slowly they all set off across the water. From out of the depths, the giant squid raised a tentacle and waved goodbye at them.
All was right with the world.
Several years later
They were on vacation again, this time visiting the island of Santorini. They were in their early twenties, either established in their careers or finished with their higher education. They were currently lounging around the pool, taking in the beautiful Aegean landscape. Harry had called this vacation as an opportunity to make the move his girlfriends had been waiting for. Harry had asked Hermione to draw up a dating schedule and, each evening, he took each of the girls out on a date and thereupon proposed to them in turn.
The girls now each wore an engagement ring representing the title they would be marrying into. Hermione as Lady Potter, Fay as Lady Gryffindor, Susan as Lady Hufflepuff, Luna as Lady Ravenclaw, Daphne as Lady Slytherin, and Tracey as Lady Peverell. The girls had agreed to a joint wedding that would take place next spring and Luna had already made a suggestion about matching garters.
"Seems that old Dumbles has corked it," Susan said, looking up from the Quibbler. "'Bout time, in my opinion."
"Oh?" said Harry. "What did him in? Age or illness or what?"
"Actually, none of the above. You all remember that blancmange that was terrorizing Britain a while back?" Tracey shifted slightly, refusing to meet anyone's eye.
"What, it ate him?" said Fay.
"It tried. It had gotten into the prison, ate a number of other prisoners, and then tried to get Dumbledore. Dumbles, however, was still holding up better than he looked. Since he didn't have a wand on him, he punched and kicked the thing so badly when it swallowed him that it exploded."
"Like a penguin on the television set," Luna muttered to herself.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Anyway, the blancmange exploded, but, you see…you know how Dumbledore had that addiction to lemon drops? Well, he'd been so deprived of sugar in prison that he…consumed the blancmange. The sugar content was so high it caused him heart failure."
"Huh, I'd always thought Dumbledore would go out in some huge, dramatic scene," said Daphne.
"Alone, destitute, and in obscurity was my assumption," said Tracey.
"Wood-chipper," said Fay.
"Wood-chipper?" everyone replied.
"Actually, not a bad idea," said Harry. "Too late now, though."
Thoughts of Dumbledore and his gruesome demise fled their thoughts, however, when Luna decided it was time to lose her bikini top and decreed it was only fair if everyone else did likewise.
All Harry could think was: I am the luckiest bastard in the world.
Author's Note: Oh, Harry. Still such a dork.
Up next is the epilogue. Hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Or more, more works as well.