Happy Friday lovelies! Before we get started with Chapter Eighteen, this is for CallaRose4ever and any of you may be disappointed in the lack of resolution surrounding what happened to characters outside of our main grey friends: a little bonus scene about what happened to Bellatrix. I was actually going to put this in my original version of Chapter Seventeen but I decided against it because I felt like it didn't fit with the story as a whole. This version of Hermione hyperfocuses on what her job is in the moment. Unless something forced her attention, I honestly don't think she would have noticed what was going on around her until everything calmed down. Unlike my Marauder's Daughter version of Hermione, who was hyper aware of those she considered hers at all times, this one focuses on the task at hand...which her Viktor recognizes and is why he didn't approach her during the lull of the final battle. (It's not stated here but Ginny is now with the flyers because Luna and Draco are a strong pairing on their own and they needed the extra flyer.)
An all too familiar scream paired with the burn of her soul-bond makes the transfigured wall Luna had conjured between Fred, George, and the now demolished wall that would have killed them during its own demise had she not been watching the two mischievous redheads now that their older brother was in the hospital wing, too injured to keep fighting, fall.
She could feel George and Fred at his back as they weaved effortlessly through the battles between their trio and the boy who had become her family…a boy whose own flesh and blood was once again standing over him with her wand raised less than twenty feet away from when Luna had turned to save the twins.
"Not my brother, you bitch," Luna snaps, her voice colder than she had ever thought it could be.
Later, the twins would tell her that they had seen murder in her eyes in that moment and that they had stepped back because they knew this was a fight she needed to win on her own so George had dropped to heal Draco while Fred covered them from any possible outside interference. But in the moment, Luna only heard a sharp intake of breath coming from the boys behind her at her statement as the older woman gave Luna a vicious smile.
"Little Looney wants to play, does she?"
Time slows for the younger witch as Bellatrix steps over her nephew, her wand glowing with the after effects of the Crutiatus she had been using on Draco, and Luna does what she has always done: she lets her magic lead.
Her magic matches her intent, snapping out of her with a protectiveness and fluidity that forces the older witch back. She doesn't use any actual incantations, she rarely does if she is being honest, but her wild magic blends with the magic of others still lingering in the air. It recharges the energy of the overpowered spells often shot in high pressure situations and pulls that energy into the older witch.
Fear flares Bellatrix's eyes where confidence had previously sat as the whirlwind of magic brought her to her knees.
The magic caressed Luna gently as she stepped closer to the incapacitated older witch but the Luna felt nothing. She felt no guilt or fear or even anger in that moment.
As Luna raised her wand, her singular intent was death.
And magic, as it always did, matched her intent.
Now, on to Chapter Eighteen! This is our last chapter before our epilogue next week and it's actually one of the oldest chapters in this story. This final scene is one that I've had written since either the first or second chapter of this story, it's where I always knew they would all ended up. Of course, I added a little bit more and made sure it still worked but the majority of it is still exactly as it was three years ago so I hope you like it as much as I do. :o)
Also, the second section of Always (which follows Severus throughout this story) is up if you want to check it out!
As always, thank you for being here and a special thanks to pianomouse for always being up to being a second set of eyes for my stories (even when I send her things at weird times or-in the case of Always-run out of time to send it to her at all). I really appreciate all of you!
Love Always,
Adrien
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters or settings, those belong to J. K. Rowling. I just enjoy making things in her sandbox.
Chapter Eighteen: The Ending The British Wizarding World Never Expected
"It's really over," Ron states what all three members of the Golden Trio are thinking as the three teens sit outside the crumbling visage of the castle they had once seen as home.
Harry and Hermione had tried to convince him to rest in the hospital wing but Ron had stubbornly refused to be surrounded by that chaos and had, instead, methodically searched out the quietest corner of what had been a chaotic battlefield before sinking onto one of the pieces of rumbling.
"Finally," Harry sighs, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he grips the hands of both of his best friends.
"It only took three children getting sick of incompetent adults shoving them into unprepared situations and a handful of very active months to finally get shit done with our little army," Hermione adds, leaning her head against Harry's shoulder.
"How long until we can go home?" Harry queries, resting his own head on top of Hermione's.
"At least a week. Just long enough to tie up loose ends and make sure they have a solid place to start...Unless you've changed your mind about leaving permanently?" The last part comes out as a question even though this is a conversation she'd had with the boys many times.
Harry's eyes meet Ron's, tired grins stretching across both of their lips before Ron answers:
"We're tired, Mione. We don't want to be somewhere that will constantly rely on us for rebuilding and reforming. We've done our part and we've given up more than enough, it's time we got to start our normal lives."
"If we could leave now with them trying to track us down, I'd be gone in a heartbeat but we have to finish what we started," Harry adds.
The trio sits in silence for a few more minutes before rising as one and making their way back to the castle where their remaining loved ones have already begun cleaning up the rumble.
Exactly a week later, the trio stands as a unit in front of thousands. They don't flinch from the camera flashes and they stubbornly keep their mouths shut until the commotion calms enough for them to speak.
They look older than their years, calm and confident with the dangerous undertone every person immersed in war walks away with. The boys wear entirely black, muggle business suits with black button downs and dress shoes, the only color present is a Bulgarian red tie neatly placed around each of their necks (thanks to Hermione's nervous straightening that had occurred before this press conference). Hermione's Bulgarian red button down matches the boys' ties perfectly and is neatly tucked into her pencil skirt. Her black blazer hides the new scars riddling her arms and her mother's kitten heels grace her feet, making her the same height as Harry but still a good bit shorter than Ron.
No one would doubt that they were showing a united front, though many may misinterpret their color choices as being representative of their old Hogwarts house instead of the place they called home.
Ron steps forward, Harry and Hermione staying a step behind him to flank either side of him in case something goes wrong, to give their official statement. He is their chess master after all, the most calculating and well spoken of the three of them though many of these people still seemed to overlook that.
"Voldemort is dead," his voice rings out over a deadly silent crowd. "If you take anything away from today, let it be that statement. If you take anything else away from today let it be this: Harry, Hermione, and myself did not defeat him alone. Hermione was the first to realize, like she often is, that The Order of the Phoenix didn't have what it took to end this war. Many of you know that she dropped out of Hogwarts before our sixth year and that she broke records in Bulgaria completing their equivalent of NEWTS so that she could study to be a healer there. What you don't know is that she left because The Order ignored her pleas to protect her parents and her parents paid for The Order's incompetence with their lives.
Because of this, she fled to her friend Viktor Krum in Bulgaria with the help of Potion's Master Severus Snape. While in Bulgaria she began planning. At first, it simply started out as a way to get her best friend and magically bonded brother, Harry Potter, out of Britain so that he couldn't be used like he had been since he was a baby but then it became a movement.
And suddenly, she had more than just Harry and I at her side. The three of us had a following that wanted to fight. So we researched, we organized, we sent out spies, and we made sure we had the strongest side.
We have decided as a unit not to go into detail but we have spent the past two years tracking down dark artifacts that Voldemort used to expand his lifetime. Our group destroyed each one of them and there is no possible way for Voldemort to return this time.
That is all the public needs to know at this time as our group is still grieving our own losses and we wish to have time to ourselves.
Are there any questions?"
Ron smoothly switches places with Harry as the press begins shouting questions. The redhead may have been the best at providing a calculated, well said statement but Harry was the best at winging it.
"You in the blue, thank you for raising your quil and waiting patiently," Harry's voice cuts through the crowd, his soft but stern voice grabbing every person's attention.
"What will you do next?"
"We plan to go back to Bulgaria."
This caused an uproar louder than any that had been at the press conference so far, questions assaulting the trio more quickly than the trio could completely comprehend though many seemed to be along these lines: You can't leave! We need you! Who will catch the remaining dark wizards? Who will we place in the government that we can trust? How can you all leave your home when there is so much work to do?
Anger flares through Harry's eyes as he puts his wand to his throat, silently magnifying his voice, "SILENCE!"
A hush falls over the crowd as Harry continues to glare out at them.
Hermione places her hand on Harry's arm when he continues to struggle with his anger.
He gives a quick nod when his eyes meet her comforting chocolate orbs and they switch places.
As soon as she stands at the podium, her gaze holds a terrifying fire that many in the audience flinch away from and she begins speaking in a voice that is eerily calm, "I will tell you the same thing I told The Order the day I left Britain: adults should NOT being hiding behind children in the hopes of winning a war. The majority of the danger has passed but there is still much more work to be done; however, it is not our duty to do it. Harry, Ron, and I have been fighting this war since we were eleven years old. We haven't had our chance to be children yet so we are going to take what little time we have left to enjoy the remainder of our childhood away from the craziness we were born into. We could have stepped away before Voldemort's defeat and left you all to your own devices—I'll let you imagine what the world would look like right now if we had—but we didn't. We wanted to give you a chance to build a better future but we are still children. It isn't our job to take places in your government or chase down the few dark wizards that remain or help rebuild a society that has never been kind to us. You are the adults. You have to take charge of the mess you've made and decide what you want to do with it. Because quite frankly, we are done. After today, you won't find us unless we let you and we intend to hold onto the normalcy Bulgaria provides with both hands. It's something Britain has never given us a chance to experience and we deserve the chance to finally live normal lives. That will be all. We hope you all have a lovely day."
Hermione holds out her hands to the boys behind her and each boy clasps a hand before one of them activates the portkey on her wrist, they are spinning away, and then all three of their arses hit the ground.
"I'm never going to get used to portkeys," she huffs, running her fingers through her larger than usual (due to the portkey travel) hair.
Her boys grumble in agreements but another voice catches her attention before either of them can voice an actual reply.
"You'll get used to it the more games you go to," a deep, familiar voice chuckles as a large hand appears in her line of vision.
"Viktor," Hermione grins in relief at her fiance as she places her hand in his and allows him to pull her to her feet before she throws her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "I love you," she whispers in his ear
"More than anything, Mila," Viktor murmurs in reply, hugging her back just as tightly as she hugs him.