A Gift in Contemplation of Death

Aerie22

Story Summary:
Harry Potter saved the Wizarding World and became an icon. And he has spent the last 60 years changing the Wizarding World for the better. But he has spent those last 60 years alone. Now, with all his friends but one gone, he laments what he thinks of as a wasted life. Can a dying friend’s parting gift give Harry the one thing he’s missed over these lonely decades?

Posted:
07/10/2005
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2,858


A Gift in Contemplation of Death

By Aerie22

Gift Causa Mortis. A gift of personalty made in expectation of imminent death.

--Black's Law Dictionary

It had turned out to be a lovely spring day, with bright sunshine and only a few scudding clouds on a fresh breeze that had lost its winter bite. The last echoes of Blake's 'Jerusalem' had faded and the mourners scattered to their memories and their lives. Hermione Granger Weasley was dead.

Only two remained. The two aged wizards in their black mourning robes turned slowly to make their way from the lake where Hermione's ashes had been scattered. One was slim with a full head of unruly white hair. He walked erect with an almost military bearing that belied the stiffness in the joints of his 77-year-old frame. The second was frail, a wraith walking with slow but determined strides. He held his companion's arm at the bicep as if for support. There was little visible sign that it was the elder of the two who was guiding...supporting his friend on the long walk across the great lawn.

The two men passed in silence through the entrance and down one of the long corridors to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. "Crocus Blossom," the younger man said and a door appeared. Harry entered and activated the spiral staircase to the office above. He pondered how strange it was that he still thought of it as Professor Dumbledore's office even after 32 years as headmaster.

"Severus, please, after you," Harry said.

Snape turned and nodded formally. No longer the tall, imperious figure of his youth, he was stooped and gaunt. His hair was sparse, and what there was of it, he wore long, tied in a queue down his back. His long beak of a nose and his intense eyes were all that was left of the feared potions professor of younger days. They slowly rose on the magical staircase to the headmaster's office.

Harry followed Snape into the office, thinking how different it was now from the one he had visited so many times in the past. The pictures of past headmasters, napping or sleepily conversing were still there, but with two additions since Harry's school days. One was of Albus Dumbledore on a large throne-like chair, his head leaning back as he peered sleepily over his reading glasses and occasionally winking. The other addition was of Filius Flitwick, napping with wand rising and falling in hand as if conducting a somnolent orchestra. But all the pictures, even those of beloved friends, had been moved to a less prominent wall.

Fawkes, the phoenix, had been long gone, suffering his final self-immolation without a rebirth some 46 years before at the time of the death of his master and friend, Albus. There were few momentos scattered about, little to define the man who occupied the office. The plaques and awards attesting to a lifetime of achievement and service were simply stacked out of sight in a pile in the closet. There were no pictures of Harry. None of the usual glimpses the rich and powerful grinning and shaking hands that usually adorned the offices of high institutional officials.

But that didn't mean there were no pictures. What now dominated the room was an entire wall of class pictures. The were now 31 group graduation photos, with budding wizards and witches eager to face the world as newly minted adults. The faces in each picture varied widely, fair and dark, chubby and thin, smiling, frowning, looking solemn or mischievous, or occasionally teary eyed. The graduates' demeanors varied as well, from those who stood stock-still to some who obviously were talking to their comrades to those elbowing their classmates and making faces to a few who fidgeted noticeably.

Harry always took a long look at a different photo each day when he entered his office. There were now over 2,000 individuals represented on that wall, representing 2,000 individual sets of young hopes, fears and dreams. It was one of his enduring pleasures to know that he had met with and talked to and attempted to get to know every one of them individually during his tenure as headmaster. These faces were more important than any plaque or momento to him.

Harry settled down behind the massive desk and turned to his visitor. "What will you have, Severus? Some nice Raven's Blood Wine?"

"Potter, if you don't know my tastes after all these years, I'm afraid I will have to deduct ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said, giving a weak smile. "A touch of Sherry will do me fine."

The two smiled wearily in companionable silence as Harry did the honors with the decanter. "I appreciate you coming up here to be with me. It's been a trying time over the past few days and I suppose I really needed the company."

Snape waved a skeletal hand. "It was nothing Harry. That's what friends are for."

Harry stared fondly at the old potions master who had been his nemesis as a student. After graduating from Hogwarts, Harry had undergone Auror training. Already a legendary figure, he developed quickly into one of the most respected and feared aurors in the wizarding world. But when, at age 22, he cornered a rogue wizard and was forced to kill him in self-defense, Harry quit. "No more death" was his only comment. He returned to Hogwarts, accepting the professorship for the Defense Against the Dark Arts and settled in for good.

But he was always wary of Snape. The potions master, even after the fall of Voldemort, maintained a distant persona and the aura of one with a shady past. It took nearly four years for the two to begin talking on a social basis and then only after Snape admitted that the decades-old rumors of his ambitions for Dark Arts job that Harry then occupied were groundless.

Over the years, Harry and Severus become friends, mostly because they shared a loathing for faculty politics and petty jealousies and respected each other's privacy.

As Snape settled into the chair on the other side of Harry's desk, he shifted uncomfortably. He withdrew his wand, which seemed to be poking him in an arthritic hip, and placed it on the desk between them.

Harry broke the silence. "It was a beautiful ceremony, don't you think."

"Witches' funerals always are beautiful in a bittersweet way," said Snape. "It was a nice turnout. Hermione would have been proud."

"Yes, she would have," Harry said absently, and then lapsed into a melancholy silence.

As the silence stretched out, Snape shifted to lean forward, staring directly at Harry. "Harry, I know you have always been reluctant to talk about your life and your feelings, but I think now might be a good time for you to simply let it out. All your old friends are dead and you may not get the chance to open up again. You can't keep your feelings bottled up forever."

Harry sat, staring down at his desk, pondering for a long time. He lifted his head to look straight at Snape. "I've had some disappointments in my life, Severus. But I told myself that there was nothing more boring than a young man's complaints. As I aged, I realized there were even more boring things: a middle-aged man's whining and, even worse, an old man's self-pity. I don't think you want to hear about my woes, any more than you want to hear some old alum complaining about his prostate."

Snape screwed his face up into what Harry assumed was a grin. Then he became serious again. "Really, Harry. You took Hermione's death very hard. I think it would be good if you just talked about it a little," Snape said. "Tell me about her, Harry. Tell me about Hermione."

Harry brooded for a long time, almost as if he didn't hear the question. Snape waited patiently, letting Harry gather his thoughts...and to decide whether to answer. Several minutes passed. Suddenly, Harry felt something inside give way. All the reticence of the past 60 years, all the walls he had built to shield himself, was collapsing. He had to talk. He needed to talk.

"I loved her, Severus," he said as if in a dream. "She was the first girl I ever really got to know. She gave me my first kiss, my first hug. She was the world to me." Harry eyes drifted to the walls of his office, looking for something to help him express what was in his heart.

"Before I came to Hogwarts, I had very little in my life. My parents were dead and my aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, raised me. I was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs, if you can believe that. I didn't know anything about my parents except for the nasty things my aunt and uncle said about them. I didn't even know what they looked like."

Harry took a deep and ragged breath. "Then I got my letter from Hogwarts--did you know Dumbledore had to send Hagrid out to break down the door to hand deliver it? My uncle vengefully destroyed dozens, maybe even hundreds, of Hogwarts letters to keep me from knowing who, and what, I was. But now I knew."

"Then, on the Hogwarts' Express, I met Hermione and Ron Weasley. They were the antithesis of the Dursleys. They were smart, friendly, full of life, full of curiosity; they were the most exciting people I had ever met. Once we were sorted into Gryffindor together, it seemed only natural that Hermione, Ron and I became a team. They were my only true family. The only family I've ever known," he said with a sigh. "I knew it couldn't be that way forever, but I wanted it to." Harry paused and poured himself another small glass of wine.

Snape put his elbows on Harry's desk and leaned forward. "You were hell raisers, all right," he said. "With all that was going on, with all that was happening, it's a wonder you all survived."

Harry paused again, sipping the wine. "I don't know how schoolmates relate to one another in normal times except from what I now see from this office," he said. "But Hermione, Ron and I forged a bond under the pressure of life-and-death dangers of an intensity that even I can't comprehend today. I thought those bonds would be strong enough to survive anything."

"What happened, Harry? We all thought that you and Hermione would get together after everything was over."

Harry thought for a few seconds. "I have mulled this over in my mind for years," he said. "It started in my fifth year. During most of our first four years here, what happened to us seemed almost like storybook adventures. When I confronted Voldemort and Quirrell in the dungeons over the sorcerer's stone, I was scared and worried about Ron and Hermione. But I was eleven years old. I didn't have much of a grasp on the concept of mortality. Dying, to me, seemed just a worse form of the beatings I used to get at the Dursleys. Even when I almost died in the Chamber of Secrets, death didn't seem to be very real. But during the TriWizard championship, I saw Cedric Diggory die. I held his body in my arms. And I realized exactly what death was. And it was something I had to protect my friend from at all costs."

Harry let out an audible sigh as he rolled his wineglass between his fingers. "I decided that, since I seemed to be Voldemort's prime target, it was my responsibility, not that of my friends, to fight him. I remained close to Ron and Hermione, trying to maintain our relationship as much as possible. But I now know I was spending so much time trying to hone my wizarding skills that I had become somewhat emotionally remote. They felt excluded from what I was doing and what I was going through."

"What they were feeling was precisely what my intent was. I did not want them to share the burden. Ron was my best friend. But he still looked at what we were going through with Voldemort, and what we might face, as a continuation of our adventures, as if it were a game. He seemed to take Diggory's death like it was some terrible or treacherous defeat on the Quidditch pitch. He didn't seem to understand the import of it. But then, he didn't witness the callous, cavalier way Cedric was killed. He didn't have to stare into Cedric's lifeless eyes or bear his body back to grieving parents and friends, knowing that he was just an innocent victim of a deathtrap laid for me. He didn't have to bear that burden, bear that guilt."

Harry took a deep breath and continued. "I do think that Hermione understood much of this. She was frightened. But she had the kind of courage that could overcome such fears and doubts and fight on against horrendous odds. It was that kind of courage that I felt I couldn't risk. You see, Severus, I knew even then that I loved her. I would not put her in peril even if it cost me my soul."

Harry stopped at that point to gather himself. Snape could see the emotional toll that this was taking on Harry. Harry was breathing hard and the tight skin on his forehead was making his now puckering scar turn even whiter. But he had to let Harry continue.

Harry resumed his story. "After the death-eater attacks on Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest toward the end of our sixth year, I knew that I had to hunt Voldemort down and kill him myself. I knew that this would take all the dark magic I had learned in the past two years. And I knew that I would probably be forced to use unforgivable curses to find out where Voldemort was and to fight his death-eaters before killing him. Even if I beat Voldemort, I might be treated as an outcast, a criminal little better than Voldemort himself. I saw that sorrow on Dumbledore's face when I refused his protection. That was something neither Ron nor Hermione could be a part of."

"But you took Draco with you on the hunt," Snape offered.

Harry collected himself. "After Lucius was captured during the bloody battle of the Forbidden Forest, Draco knew he had nothing. Lucius in Azkaban, his mother a suicide, his fortune tied up in wizarding court with the prospect of confiscation by the ministry, Draco decided that all he had left was his name and his honor. So he decided to kill Voldemort, the being that led to his family's downfall."

"That's really why he joined you?" asked Snape.

"Yes," Harry said. "No other reason."

"But why did you let him join you?"

"Severus, his father was one of the Dark Lord's top people. Draco knew who the death-eaters were, what they looked like and where they lived and worked. And he knew as much about the dark arts as I did."

"But you had no qualms about taking Draco along when you purposefully excluded Ron and Hermione," Snape said.

Harry looked up at Snape. "I knew he was one of your favorite students. But I hated him. And he hated me. Together, we were a powerful team. But at the outset, the only reason why one would mourn the other's death was that it would make the task that much more difficult for the survivor."

"But you did become friends. And you did defeat Voldemort, together," Snape interjected.

"Yes. And after we did, I thought I could at last have some peace. It was at that point that I realized the depth of my need, my love for Hermione," he said. Sighing deeply to collect himself, he continued. "I may have excluded Hermione from my plans and preparations for my confrontation with Voldemort, but I tried not to ignore her or take her for granted. But I couldn't let my heart show. I had told her how important she was to me. But I couldn't open up emotionally to her. I couldn't tell her how much I loved her. And I knew she couldn't come to me. I knew she was always afraid that Ron and I looked at her as a pal, not a blossoming woman. She wouldn't risk our friendship on the chance that I might rebuff her. And she constantly worried that any relationship she might have with either of us might endanger hers, Ron's and my friendship with each other. In the end, it turned out she was right."

Snape merely nodded.

Harry swirled the sherry in his glass, took a sniff, but did not drink. His eyes glazing over, he continued.

"It was a tense time, if you recall, those last few months before Voldemort's fall. People were being kidnapped and killed. And I felt, 'Who was I to play teenage emotional games with the people I loved?' So I never pressed my case to her."

Once again, Snape shifted in his chair. "Harry, once you defeated Voldemort, all that fear went away. What happened?"

Harry looked down, his voice now soft and hoarse. "I remember being in and out of consciousness in the hospital wing here at Hogwarts for over a day--maybe more. I remembered seeing Poppy, and had a brief talk with Dumbledore. And even remember waking up to see your face. I remember thinking that you were probably there to scold me for malingering, trying to avoid reading your potion's assignment for the summer."

Snape chuckled dryly, then coughed a couple times. "Was I really that much of a terror?"

"You most certainly were," Harry said with a crooked smile.

Harry continued: "But several times, I woke up with no one around. Then I would raise myself up just enough to see Draco. Poor Draco. He saved my life, freeing me to face Voldemort and got put into a month-long coma for his trouble," he said with a melancholy smile.

"His actions did allow you to finally confront Voldemort and defeat him. And that you did alone," Snape added.

Harry nodded. "All those conspiracy theories about him being a Death Eater were nonsense. He was trying to redeem his family name," he said defensively.

"I know," said Snape.

After a few moments, he resumed his story. "But the first thing I remembered when I finally regained full consciousness was Hermione. The aurors guarding me tried to keep her out but they couldn't. As soon as she saw me awake and smiling, she flung herself on me. 'Oh, Harry,' she said. 'Thank God it's finally over. Thank God you are all right,' crying hysterically. It was the happiest moment of my life."

Harry stopped, and closed his eyes. Snape saw the pain on Harry's face and was not sure if he would continue with the story.

After several minutes, Harry opened his eyes and gave Snape a wan smile.

"What happened, Harry? Everyone thought you would be together, after that. Even the nasty master of Slytherin House believed that," Snape prompted.

"We talked about fight with Voldemort...all that had happened," Harry said with a sigh. "Then I told her I loved her. 'I love you, too, Harry Potter. Everybody does,' she told me."

"But I was confused. 'No Hermione, I love you. Not like everybody else. I love only you.' At that point she looked a little uncomfortable. 'I know you do, Harry. And I love you,' she told me softly. 'But Ron needs me. I'm sorry, Harry.'"

Snape could now see Harry's eyes cloud over. He reached over to pat Harry's hand.

"Thanks, Severus," he said quietly.

"So you let her go," Snape asked.

Harry nodded. "I was so stunned that I didn't know what to say. She gave me gentle kiss on the lips and quietly walked out of the wing. I didn't realize that she was walking out of my life."

"But you had the entire seventh year left," Snape noted.

"Yes, but a lot of that was taken up with questioning by the aurors, by ministry officials, by the press. Remember Rita Skeeter? I thought she was going to move in with me," Harry said with a rueful smile. "But after what Hermione had told me, I saw no reason to duck all that. It was like I was sleepwalking through the entire year. I answered their questions, went to classes, studied for the N.E.W.T.s and died a little, every day."

Harry paused, then looked at the decanter. "Another sherry, Severus?"

"No thank you, Harry. At my age, one is quite enough." He paused and then looked back at Harry. "So Ron and Hermione were married," he prompted.

"Yes, right after graduation from Hogwarts. It was a nice affair, and Ron and Hermione seemed to be happy," Harry said flatly.

"But they weren't, were they Harry."

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "No. I don't think they were. Hermione went on to the Wizarding University in Diagon Alley, and Ron went to work managing his brothers' Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes operations. I visited them off and on. But even at the beginning, there was tension almost every time I visited. They always seemed to at each other over one thing or another. It used to be funny when they squabbled at Hogwarts, but it was painful to see once they were married," Harry said with a mournful sigh.

Snape cautiously cut in. "I seem to recall that whenever I would assign a long-term project, Hermione would seem to get excited and start organizing her material, readings and studies. I presume she did that for her other classes."

"Oh, yes," Harry said, giving Snape a puzzled look.

"Do you think she saw Ron as a long-term project," Snape said, quietly.

"I don't think that's fair, Severus." But Harry paused again to ponder the comment.

Finally, Harry took a deep breath. "The problem was that they had starkly contrasting backgrounds and personalities. Ron came from a large, loving, active family. He and his brothers were always getting into one sort of mischief or another. On the other hand, Hermione was an only child. Her parents were both dentists, and very bookish, intellectual people. It's funny, but I never talked much to Hermione about her life before Hogwarts, except about her parents and the books she had read. It could be that she was too bookish to have many friends before coming to Hogwarts. Maybe she didn't have that much to tell me about. Maybe that's why she was so excited about having Ron and I as friends, and why our bond was so intense. Maybe, like me, Hogwarts provided her with the first true friends she ever had. It's funny how alike Hermione and I were in that respect. And how different Ron's life had been from her's up until that point."

"So maybe opposites attract," said Snape.

"No, Severus, not when the gulf was as wide as it was with Ron and Hermione. I think Ron saw how happy his family was when they were growing up and wanted the same thing. He wanted a large family with Hermione as a stay-at-home mother who would devote herself to him and children like his mother Molly did."

"On the other hand, Hermione loved school. But she was curious about everything. She wanted to follow her curiosity wherever it led her. She didn't want to be put on a pedestal or in a cage. She expected to have a life outside of just being a wife and mother. And I think both felt betrayed when neither lived up to the other's expectations."

"Things only got worse when the kids came along. Hermione had to cut her studies short when Brian, their first, was born. Then I heard there was a big blow-up when Hermione wanted to go back to University. Ginny Weasley told me that Ron accused Hermione of trying to be a perpetual student and being a bad mother and wife. And Hermione was no better, accusing him of working too many hours, of running around and avoiding her. I don't think he ever cheated on her. He was too decent for that. By the time their other child, Stephen, came along, Ron had started drinking."

Snape looked down and shook his head and Harry continued.

"I tried to intercede a few times. But after a while, Ron started accusing me of trying to steal Hermione away from him. He took swings at me on a couple occasions, but they were when he was drunk. He didn't seem to remember the incidents and I never brought them up. And Hermione was not much better. She told me at one point that I had had my chance long ago and that now I was simply too late to help her or Ron. I was never quite sure what she meant, and it was a painful thing to think about."

"Finally, Ginny relayed a message that I was no longer welcome at Ron and Hermione's home. I talked to Molly, but she was only willing to listen to a point and then became defensive of Ron. I didn't know she was dying. I guess Arthur's death--Arthur was Ron's dad--hit her too hard for her to play peacemaker of the family anymore. So Ron and Hermione stayed together but, from everything I heard, they were never happy. After a while, I stopped asking about them for fear of what I might hear." At that point, Harry simply buried his head in his arms on the desk.

Snape waited patiently. Finally, he asked softly: "Harry, why didn't you ever get married?"

Harry didn't answer. Snape again prompted him: "There must have been others out there. You were the most celebrated wizard in the world. You were still getting owls by the score each day when you got here and that was, what, four or five years after Voldemort. I hear you got marriage proposals from witches by the dozen."

Harry raised his head off the desk and looked at Snape with red-rimmed eyes. "There was only one other woman that I truly cared about. That was Ginny Weasley."

"Oh. I understand," said Snape. "Tell me about Ginny."

There was a long pause as Harry collected himself. "Ginny was so adorable when she first got to Hogwarts. She had this terrible crush on me. By the time she became a fourth-year student, she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, full of life and full of mischief like her brother. Even now it seems painful to think about it," he said with a wintry smile. "But she knew I was in love with Hermione, even if Ron and Hermione didn't. And she deserved better than to take second best to anyone. So when Draco's dad went to prison and he started to rebel against all the Slytherin kids whose families were involved with Voldemort, he became a big romantic hero to Ginny. It didn't hurt that he was so good looking," Harry said with a rueful smile.

"Looks are highly overrated, if you ask me," said Snape with a chuckle.

Harry smiled.

"Then, after Draco and I fought and defeated Voldemort, Ginny started a bedside vigil over him. She was rarely away from the hospital wing except to eat, sleep and go to classes."

"I remember," said Snape. "Poppy was always trying to shoo her away, but I understand now that all of Ginny's endless talking to Draco may have helped regain consciousness. It may have saved his life."

Harry nodded. "And when Draco finally came to, he realized that, maybe for the first time in his life, that someone really cared for him."

"Not even his parents?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said flatly. "His father tried to bargain him away to Voldemort. Then, when Lucius was sent away to prison, Narcissa killed herself over the scandal without even a thought of how this might affect Draco."

Snape sighed and nodded.

"I was not going to interfere with Ginny's and Draco's relationship, even though I had my doubts," Harry said. "And when they married, I'm sure Draco loved her as best he could. But he had no experience in relating to people in an intimate and caring way."

"That's pretty harsh, Harry," Snape said.

"Severus, Draco and I were together 24 hours a day, dodging Death Eaters and aurors, throughout the summer as we hunted Voldemort down. We ended up talking a lot. I got to know him as well as anyone, except maybe for Ginny," Harry said. "The only people he was really close to, outside of his parents, were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. And he looked at them not as friends, but as people who owed him loyalty and who he owed a loyalty to in return. It wasn't a friendship, really, more like a master-servant relationship. And when Ginny came along, it confused the hell out of him. Here was someone who loved him for himself--even though he was penniless and powerless. His other girlfriends had cut him off when he was down and out. But Ginny didn't care about that. Draco realized she loved him for him, not for what he could give her."

"So what did happen to Ginny," Snape asked.

"Well, nobody seems to know the whole story behind that," said Harry. "They seemed to be happy for the first few years of the marriage. But once Draco's inheritance was reinstated and he got Malfoy Manor back, he suddenly became very attractive to a certain class of witch. And he was vain enough to take advantage of this new-found interest. Ginny took it pretty hard when he started running around on her. It didn't help that she'd had a couple miscarriages. I saw her several times at the end. She seemed more withdrawn and distracted each time I saw her. I think she just was preoccupied coming out of the Leaky Cauldron and walked into muggle traffic and was hit by a car. From what I heard, she should have been able to recover from her head injuries. She just ... didn't."

Harry took a deep breath. "After Ginny's death, Draco went to pieces. I was with him a few times to try to help him work things out, but he simply wouldn't listen. He took ridiculous chances, brawling, dueling, womanizing, riding his broom like a bat out of hell. To be honest, I think he was working his courage up to kill himself. So when he flew into that tree, I don't think that was an accident."

Snape shook his head. "He was an arrogant pup, but in all the years I've taught, he was always my favorite student. What a tragedy. What a waste."

Snape paused and signed. He looked up at Harry who seemed very far away. "But Harry, you still haven't told me why you never got married. Surely, in all these years, there were other women."

Harry turned to look out the window, his unfocused eyes not seeing the beautiful sunset. Quietly, he resumed talking. "I have thought about that for years. I think the simple answer is that I never learned to trust people."

"Harry, what do you mean?" Snape asked gently.

"Well, I never was able to trust the Dursleys. I was never good enough, never smart enough, never anything enough. I know I'm a little long in the tooth..." then his voice caught, remembering Hermione's overbite when she first arrived at Hogwarts. The pause lengthened uncomfortably. But Snape waited patiently.

Harry coughed. "I'm a little old to be feeling sorry for myself," he continued. "But I could never trust them. Then I came to Hogwarts to find I was a celebrity not for what I did or what I was, but for something that happened to me when I was an infant. I didn't believe I could trust my good fortune. Then I became targeted for murder without understanding why, by people I didn't know. Hell, look at Peter Pettigrew. Even pets were plotting against me," Harry said with a wry chuckle.

"Then, when I was finally freed from this danger, when it was finally time for me to start enjoying being a teenager, the girl that I love tells me how wonderful I am and how she loves me and then promptly walks out of my life for my best friend. I entered into the wizarding world to find was a big hero, with people I didn't know wanting to be my friend, or my enemy, without knowing the real me. Then I become this even bigger hero when all I was trying to do was help my friends. How could I ever know, ever trust that a witch would want me, the real me, and not 'Harry Potter, the celebrity'." Harry's voice was cracking now. "Sure, Harry Potter, the hottest thing since Merlin, but I can't have the only thing in this world that I ever wanted, the woman that I love...I never wanted to be 'Harry Potter.' I wanted to be 'just Harry'."

At this point, Harry broke down and sobbed.

Snape stood up painfully and walked around to the desk. The old professor rested his hand on the old students back to console him.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I know I'm not a teenager anymore. I try to console myself that the students are my children and that Hogwarts is my love. But sometimes it seems to be such an empty, such a useless life," Harry gasped.

Snape snapped his head up. "That's utter nonsense, Potter," Snape shouted. "What utter nonsense. Look at what you accomplished. You built Hogwarts up from what was, quite frankly, a decaying institution to the envy of the wizarding world," Snape said.

Harry slowly regained his composure and looked up at the old potions' master through glazed eyes. "Severus, Hogwarts had suffered through all the problems of Grindwald in the '30s and '40s, then two reigns of terror from Voldemort in the 80s and 90s," Harry pleaded. "There were other priorities during those times and Hogwarts had to make do with what resources it could find. I was lucky enough to get the credit for the boom years."

Snape's brow clouded. "Again, stuff and nonsense. How many students where here when you we in school? 250? 280? There are now 720 students at Hogwarts, the best and the brightest from around the world. And it was you, Harry, who fought and won the battles that made it possible."

"And what about the students Harry? In my day, and yours, the various houses were practically armed camps. But you fixed up the dungeons to create cafes and interhouse clubs. It was you who gave the first and second years parties on Hogsmeade nights when the older students were gone. You were the one who helped break down the suspicions and animosities between the houses by forcing them to interact at every opportunity. Hell, Potter, you even made the living conditions in Slytherin House livable."

Harry looked at his friend and shrugged.

"And it's not just Hogwarts," Snape continued. "Who created the Magical Enhancement and Adaptability Program to help the squibs find what powers they do possess and help them find real employment in our world, or the muggle world?"

Harry quivered at Snape's onslaught. "I just remembered old Filch and how miserable and ashamed he was of not having magical powers...of him resorting to those phony wizarding correspondence courses to gain some dignity and self respect."

But Snape became relentless. "Who founded the Arthur Weasley School of Muggle Studies to help the wizarding world cope with the increasing encroachment of the Muggle World, Harry? Who built the Pomfrey Institute of Wizarding and Muggle Medicine? Who created the Dumbledore Scholarship program? Who established a course of ethical wizardry in every school in Britain that has become a model for the wizarding world? Who modernized the academic standards and guidelines for wizarding schools, dragging us from the fourteenth century into the twenty-first? Who created the moral code for the Auror training center? Who was at the forefront of the modernization of the wizarding criminal justice system? Who led the fight to banish dementors from the wizard penal system? Who created educational programs in those same prisons to give bad wizards a second chance?"

Harry was gasping. "I could do it because I had a name people recognized. I had money. Remember, a lot of that money came from Draco's will. Anyone in my position could have done it, should have done it. The work helped me forget."

Snape stood and slammed his hand down on the desk. "Not anyone. You, Harry. The life you led, the accomplishments you achieved, miracles you wrought were not the result of adolescent pique, of some teenage sulk. They arose out of your character, your integrity, your compassion. It took me a long time to realize that myself, to recognize my own jealousies and resentment. I used to dream of occupying this office. But long before Flitwick died, I realized that you were the one who belonged here, not me."

Harry sat and cried silently for a long time. Finally, Snape broke the silence. "Harry. I came up here to help you through Hermione's death. I knew you would take it hard and I knew you would need someone to share your grief with, someone who had known her as long, if not as well, as you did. But I had another reason to come up here with you. I too have story to tell," he said quietly.

Snape returned painfully to his chair and Harry turned around to face him, his eyes red-rimmed with grief.

"First of all, I want to thank you for keeping me on here at Hogwarts as an emeritus professor all these years."

Harry started to protest weakly but Snape held up his hand. "Hear me out, Harry. I know that you have had to run some interference with the ministry while I did my mad wizard act in the potions' lab for the past ten or fifteen years."

"I would have turned 100 years old next January..." Snape began, but was cut off by Harry's gasp. "No, Harry, don't concern yourself. I have cancer. I would try to use my powers, and the powers of the medical staff here, to locate and localize it, maybe even kill it. But once you get to a certain point in your life, staying alive simply to stay alive becomes rather tedious. So I will not make the century mark. That I know."

Harry's face was a mask of sorrow. The man he most hated in his youth had now become his best friend. He had lost Sirius Black and Remus Lupin during the Voldemort war, seen Ginny and Draco die when he still was young and lost Ron and Hermione's friendship in his youth only to bury them both within a year of each other. Now Snape's death would deprive him of the last link to his to his youth, the last person to truly know him as a person. Harry hung his head in the deepest sorrow he knew.

"Harry, I told you I had a story, and I want you to listen. I have been playing mad wizard for the past twenty years not just to amuse myself while I waited for death. I have been working on a single project. And I believe that I have succeeded."

Snape settled back into the heavily padded leather guest chair and took a deep breath. "On of the by-products of your little efforts to introduce muggle subjects into the curriculum was my introduction to the muggle physical sciences. In my late middle age, I became convinced that not all magic is spiritual in nature. There are underlying physical principals at work, as well. And I began applying them, as best I could, in the potions laboratory. It opened up a new world to me. And I began to wonder about the limits of magic, light and dark."

"And I began to come across references to the mutability of time. We had, to some extent, mastered aspects of time through such things as the Time Turner. But such a device is crude. So, for the past twenty years or so, I have devoted myself to the study of both the physical science and dark arts aspects of time control. I believe that I have been able to create what could best be described as a fully calibrated Time Turner."

Harry looked up at Snape in shock. "Severus, you know Time Turners are good for, at best, a couple days, a week maybe. It takes about five minutes of turning for each hour you want to go back in time. Are you telling me that your would want to spend three or four hours turning the heavy Time Turner just to go back a week or so?"

"No, Harry." Then Snape paused.

Suddenly an idea dawned in Harry's mind. "I could use the Time Turner to go back a week so I could at least have a chance to say goodbye to Hermione." Suddenly, he wept.

Snape reached across the desk to touch Harry's arm. "No, Harry. Not a week."

Harry looked up with red-rimmed eyes, puzzled.

"Harry, like you, I have led a lonely life and buried my grief in work. I spent these last few years creating a Time Turner that one could use to it to go back not a week, but to remote times, to critical junctures in history, to change things that should be changed. It is of the deepest and most ancient Dark Magic coupled with the equally Dark Arts of Muggle Physics. But I am not going to tell you I created this device for altruistic purposes. What I wanted was for someone to go back to a critical time in my life to deliver a message from me in the present to the me in the past, in an attempt to change my own life for the better, so at least I could have a chance at happiness. Up until the last year or so, I had thought maybe that person would be you."

Harry was now staring open-mouthed at Snape.

"Severus, I would be glad to do that for you. Do you know when or where this turning point would be?"

It now was Snape's turn to stare. "Harry. Do you realize what a foolish thing I was going to ask you to do? And the consequences? You would not be able to come back. And chances are that you would not live long after delivering the message...the laws of physics or rules of causation or the fates and the furies or something like that would take you before you had much of a chance to change history on your own. All use of Dark Magic has a heavy price. Don't you see how foolish I've been for all these years, thinking I could change my life for the better?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "For you, my friend, I would do it. You, as much as anyone, deserve another chance at a happy life," he said with a faint smile.

"No, Harry. Hermione's death shook me out of my silly reverie. I started this project with no clear vision of how my life could or should be changed. But recently, once I became a little more clear-headed about it, the realized that only thing that would have changed my life for the better is the one thing that I couldn't have changed if I wanted."

"And what is that, Severus," Harry said sadly.

"The only thing that would have made my life happy would have been if your mother, Lily, had fallen in love with me. That would not happen in this or any other universe, no matter how I tried."

Harry lowered his head in sorrow. He saw that the only thing that would make his friend happy would have prevented him from being born.

"Harry," Snape shouted. "I know what a foolish old man I am and how foolish I have been to think my life could have been redeemed this way. Look at me, Harry. Look at me."

Harry looked up with sorrow. "I told you I would help you if I could."

"Don't be foolish, Potter," Snape snapped. "Think of all the lives you saved, all the misery you stopped, by defeating Voldemort. And after that, think of all the lives you've enriched here at Hogwarts and in the world in general. Harry, your life is worth ten...a hundred of mine. Now stop."

Harry shook his head. "Severus, you have done so much yourself over the years. Students have learned more potions from you than the rest of the potions' professors around the world combined. And your potions' texts will be used long after this current crop of students are dead and buried. You have a lot to be proud of."

"Thank you Harry. Be that as it may, I have only one question for you: What was the date that you defeated Voldemort?"

"The evening of August 27, 1997," said Harry. "Why?"

"Before I came up here, I was puzzling about the best use of the Time Turner I created. After talking to you here, now I know. I have to apologize, Harry," Snape said, taking the wand from Harry's desk. "I have been recording this conversation through the wand in case it might help you. Now I think it will help you more than you know."

Harry began to turn red. "Severus, I don't understand. What's this all about."

"I'm sorry Harry." Snape flashed his wand with a binding charm, freezing Harry to the chair. "Harry, I am going back to August 27, 1997. I will be in the hospital wing when they bring you in. I will be there when you wake up. The recording of this conversation will be your message from your present-day self to your past self. It will be the strongest message I could possibly give the young Harry Potter that he must fight for his Hermione, or her life, and the life of his best friend, will be destroyed. Even if this fails, he might be able to save the lives of Ginny and Draco. Harry, you have saved the world. I am going to try to help you save yourself and those you love. Think of it as a gift in contemplation of my death." Snape moved to a file cabinet by the door, opened the top drawer, and removed the invisibility cloak he knew to be there. He looked back at Harry one last time. "Goodbye, my friend."

"No, Severus," Harry said weakly, but it was too late. Snape was gone. "Thank you, Severus," Harry said quietly, and he began to weep.

****

The clock read 4:18 am as Harry began to come around. He began to sit up with a start, but collapsed. He was alive, Voldemort was destroyed. He had seen the body slowly disintegrate as his spell took hold. Then he saw Voldemort's spirit struggle to rise out of his smoldering remains. But black demons began to rise out of the ground, pulling Voldemort's spirit down, down into the pits of hell. It was over. The wizarding world was free.

Suddenly Harry saw movement in the gloom of the hospital wing. It looked like a bent old wizard, but Harry couldn't see clearly in the dark and couldn't find his glasses.

"Potter."

It sounded like Snape's voice, but the shadow didn't match that of Snape.

"If you're a Death Eater, feel free to kill me if you think you can," the young Potter snarled. "Your master is dead. I killed him. He won't be back this time. There's nothing left for you now."

"Oh shut up, Potter. I bring you a message from your distant future. You have won the battle against Voldemort. It's now time to win the battle for yourself." Snape raised his wand and voices from 60 years in the future began to speak.

Twice more over the next day and a half, Harry woke up to Snape and the voices of the future. It was late at night when Snape, having accomplished his mission, put the invisibility cloak in the pocket of Harry's robe by his bed. He then dropped his wand in an envelope and scribbled something on it.

He took one last look at Harry and then, pausing only to pick up an orange from Poppy Pomfrey's bottomless fruit bowl, walked out the door. Only the owls in the owlry saw the stooped old wizard as he strolled slowly across the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest where he could sit and watch the unicorns frolic while he slowly faded away.

****

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "Thank God it's finally over. Thank God you are all right." She flung herself on Harry, crying hysterically.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking about the voices from the future. Was it just a dream? He held Hermione with a desperation borne of the fear and the pain he endured at Voldemort's hands, and the fear of what future dreams might bring.

"Harry, are you really all right?" Hermione cried.

"Yes, Hermione. It's going to be all right."

They talked about his ordeal as he silently pondered the meaning of his dreams about the future and searched his heart for the right words.

"I love you, Hermione," Harry said.

"I love you, too, Harry Potter. Everybody does."

"No Hermione, I love you. Not like everybody else. I love only you." He paused.

She was about to continue, but Harry cut her off.

"No Hermione, you have to hear this. I need you. You are the only thing in my life that has kept me going these past two years, the only thing, in the end, that matters to me. I've been through hell, knowing that if I told you how I felt, you would become an even greater target."

"I know I have excluded you from what I've been going through. But I felt I had to. This summer I've been places and done things you cannot image. But I knew what to expect. I did not expect to come back. Had I shared my plans with you beforehand, I knew that you would follow me and that I would be helpless to stop you. And you would have died. I loved you too much to let that happen."

"I could not share what I planned with you, but I could take you with me in my heart. For the past two years, I have been watching you, usually when you weren't aware, memorizing the lines of your face, your simple movements, your endearing ways, storing them up like fireflies in a jar to light my heart in the darkest days. Those memories helped me cope with the horrors I've seen, the actions I've taken, the pain I've endured."

"But it's over. I want you... I want you to care about me...to love me...I don't know the words to say even though I've been searching for them for the past two years. I know they must be coming out all wrong. All I can say is that I love you, that I need you, that you are the most important thing in my life now and forever."

Hermione swayed a little and almost collapsed. She had waited for the day that Harry would say he loved her, but had given up hope. Now his words washed over her like a torrent, filling her heart so that it might burst.

She looked down at Harry's wounded body and a series of visions of him swam in her head. The sweet and earnest 11-year-old boy with the cute smile and alarmingly beautiful green eyes that she met on that first train to Hogwarts. The strong and resourceful boy the she saw at the end of her first year as the fought to find the Sorcerer's Stone. The heroic and selfless boy who almost died protecting Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. The boy full of triumph and exhilaration as he flew on the back of Buckbeak, saving the animal from certain death. The fear and determination she saw in him as he faced the trials of the Tri-Wizard Competition and the confrontation with Voldemort in their fourth year. The Harry of their fifth year who seemed always to be brooding and angry but showed no hesitation in putting her life, and the lives of his friends, ahead of his own. The grimly determined and haunted Harry of their sixth year, full of sorrow and outrage at each new Death Eater attack. She saw now that while those around him were fussing over homework and worried about dates for the Yule Ball, Harry was girding his soul for battle and contemplating his own death. She saw the child who was never granted a childhood, the teenager who was never allowed the joys of an adolescence, the 'boy who lived' who was never allowed to enjoy life.

And now, as she looked down at him, she saw not a boy but a handsome young man, a powerful young wizard who could cow the six burly aurors guarding him with a few quiet words when they tried to keep her out of the hospital wing. She saw a young man who could turn aside his fears and turn back the forces of hell itself without concern about his safety or his life if his friends, if the world were threatened. She saw 'The Boy Who Lived' who arrived at Hogwarts with nothing, but who was willing to sacrifice everything, including his love and his life, for the happiness of others. And through all the horror, the fear, the killing, the tragedy, she saw that he never lost his gentleness, his sensitivity, his soul.

And Hermione saw the desperate aching longing in his eyes, those beautiful, haunting eyes and realized the power of his love. It was a love so strong that he was willing to risk his happiness to protect her.

Suddenly all her fear, her frustration, her anger, her anxiety about their friendship, their relationship, their love fell away. This was not Ron, the handsome, awkward teenage boy who could be exuberant, willful, fun and frustrating by turns, but still just a boy. Here was a man who would always love her, be there for her, who would protect her and support her but never bore her or cage her, who would always be by her side as her partner, her lover, her friend.

"Oh, Harry, I love you so," she whispered, collapsing on to his chest crying. "Please say it's finally over. Please say you won't ever leave me again."

"It's over," Harry whispered back. "I will love you forever."

Suddenly they were embracing frantically, kissing with a desperation borne of the years of terror they had both known. And just as suddenly, Hermione jumped up.

"Harry, your ribs. They're all bandaged. I didn't realize. Was I hurting you?"

"Ouch," he said with a smile, as he pulled her back down to embrace her.

"Ahem," said a voice with a distinctly nasal drawl.

Harry and Hermione looked up to see Professor Snape, but a Snape like they had never seen before. His hair was trimmed and washed and tied back with an elegant Slytherin green ribbon. His robes were immaculate and under them, they could see he was wearing a freshly starched white dress shirt and ... was that a bolo tie? Even his shoes seemed polished.

"Mister Potter," Snape intoned. "Can you possibly explain this?"

Snape held out what looked like his wand.

"Your wand, professor Snape?" Harry asked.

With a quick movement of his thumb, there were suddenly two identical wands in his hand. "One of these is mine. The other came into my possession here in the hospital wing the day before yesterday. It had the most curious recorded message in it, a conversation, of sorts. Do you know anything about this, Mister Potter?"

Harry shifted in the bed. "I remember having a dream of a wand giving me a message, but that's all I know," Harry said warily.

Suddenly, Professor Sinistra appeared from behind Snape. "Sev-honey, I told you we should leave this nice young couple to their privacy for now," she said with a warm smile. "They haven't seen each other for months and I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do."

"Ah...very well, Andy," Snape said uncomfortably to the plump witch with the twinkle in her eye. Suddenly, Snape's face showed a hint of an embarrassed smile. Turning to Harry, Snape's smile remained in place. "I think we should discuss this message in my office...at your leisure. And... ah...it is good to have you back and recovering....Harry." Snape then turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital wing with an unaccustomed spring in his step.

Sinistra watched the retreating form and then turned to Harry and Hermione with a grin. "What is it they say in America? 'He does clean up pretty good when you hose him down a little'." She turned to Hermione. "It takes a woman's touch. You remember that, Hermione, when taking care of your young gentleman friend there." The Sinistra turned and scurried out.

Harry and Hermione collapsed on each other in giggles.

"Andy?" Harry said in with a puzzled look.

"Oh, Harry. Her name is Andromeda. Everybody knows that," said Hermione with a smile. She then leaned down to kiss him again, a long lingering kiss.

When they broke off the kiss, Harry's face clouded. "Hermione, what about Ron?"

Hermione's face took on a look of concern. "Oh, poor Ron. He and I were sort of assuming that we would be...I guess, a couple, once school started." She smiled softly at Harry. "I think he'll be a little hurt that you and I are now together. I hope this doesn't affect our friendship."

Harry paused to consider. "Well, there are plenty of girls who would like to go out with him, I'm sure. He's good looking and fun. Why not?" said Harry, leaning back and feeling the tension he'd felt since Hermione arrived slowly fading.

"Oh, Harry. I heard on the Hogwarts Express that Lavender broke up with Justin Fitch-Fletchey over the summer. Maybe Ron could ask her out," Hermione said.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. She's from a big, old-line wizarding family, just like the Weasleys. And she's pretty. She'd be even prettier if she would just lose some of that makeup she smothers herself in. 'Just hose her down a little' and put her in a Chudley Cannons jersey and he'd probably carry her off and we'd never see them again."

Hermione started laughing. "Are you kidding? Knowing her, if he looked at her twice, she'd be the one to carry him off and we'd never see them again."

Hermione collapsed in giggles against Harry's chest and soon they were embracing and kissing, feeling the passion rising.

"Ah .... ah .... Harry .... Hermione?"

Harry and Hermione looked up with a start to see a crestfallen Ron Weasley.

"Uh, hello, Ron," said Harry with an embarrassed smile.

Ron's face rapidly changed from crestfallen to a look of resignation. "Oh ... ah... I guess you guys are a couple now," he said in a quiet voice.

Hermione looked at him sadly. "Yes, Ron. I guess we are. I'm sorry."

Ron slowly sat down on a nearby, empty bed and closed his eyes.

Harry and Hermione squeezed each other's hands as they waited anxiously for Ron.

Finally, he opened his eyes, a sad look on his face. "Somehow, I always knew. I guess I didn't want to believe, but deep down, I always knew." He managed a sad, crooked smile.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Ron."

Ron nodded, giving the two a soft smile while attempt to hide a tear that he was desperately fighting back. "Hermione. Somehow, I knew you always loved Harry. Our being together these past few months...well, it was a wonderful dream. But I guess it's time to wake up. And I love you too much to see you...well to not want to see my two best friends happy together." He sighed softly.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said softly.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said.

Ron forced a smile. "I guess it was inevitable. Talk about your marriage made in heaven..." and he started to chuckled softly. "Speaking of which, guess what? Fred, George and I are branching out into catering!" he said with false cheer.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with puzzled and amused stares.

"No seriously," Ron said, now grinning in a strained way. "And if you hire us for your wedding, I'm sure you'll get a deep discount."

"What?" said Harry, still smiling.

By now, Ron had regained his composure and was getting into his more normal rhythm. "Well, Harry, after all, you're a part owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Inc."

"I don't get it," Harry said with a puzzled smile.

"George and Fred told me how you helped bankroll their operation. So we got talking over the summer. We decided that, when I graduate, I'll be business manager, and Fred and George share the jobs as salesmen and research and development. I'm already doing their books and doing most of their ordering and inventory control. And they said that, since you were the chief investor, it was only fair to make you the fourth partner--we'll each own 25% of the business. That's why I'm sure we'll give you a discount on catering your wedding. Heck, if you give us an endorsement, we'll do it for free," he said with a grin. "You're famous. You can help the business really take off."

Harry and Hermione collapsed in giggles.

Harry then turned to Ron with an appraising look. "What about Draco? He's going to be a pretty famous guy when all the details about our battle come out. You could hire him to promote to the Slytherin trade," Harry said, grinning.

"Malfoy? That git?," Ron growled. "Maybe, if we're lucky, he won't come out of that coma," he said sullenly.

"Ron, that's a horrible thing to say," Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, you didn't have to spend the summer hearing Ginny with her 'Draco this' and 'Draco that'," Ron groused. "If he lays a hand on my sister..."

Harry turned serious. "Ron, Draco doesn't have two sickles to rub together. Chances are the ministry will confiscate the entire Malfoy fortune..."

"Good," Ron said.

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Ron, what I'm saying is that Draco's broke and an outcast among most of the Slytherin crowd here at Hogwarts. So what if Ginny's 'Draco this' and 'Draco that' becomes 'Draco and Ginny this' and 'Draco and Ginny that.' If he and Ginny do become a couple, it might do Draco a world of good to be around decent, caring people, to see how the other half lives. He might even turn into a decent human being. Decent enough for Ginny, if not you."

"I doubt it," Ron grumbled.

"Listen. What better way to keep an eye on him and Ginny than to get him involved in the business," Harry said.

Ron seeming to be pondering this idea. "Well, he does have a kind of sleazy charm that some people seem to appreciate. That can come in handy in sales," he said. "And you're right about keeping an eye on him. You know the old saying: 'Keep your friends close and your Malfoys closer'," Ron said, chuckling.

"Getting back to more important business--so Ron, who are you going to bring to this hypothetical wedding?" Hermione asked mischievously.

"Gee, Hermione, I'll have to think about that," Ron said, his face again straining to keep a smile.

"Ron, I hear Lavender's not seeing anyone," Hermione offered.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Harry interrupted in a mock serious tone. "I hear from sources close to the top that if Ron gave Lavender a second look, she'd carry him off and we'd never see either of them again. He'd miss the wedding."

Ron gave a startled look. Suddenly, the his cloudy expression gave way to a more contemplative one. "You know, I just saw Lavender on the train..." Once again, his shallow breathing became a little more normal and he looked up at the couple and smiled a knowing smile. "That reminds, I came here straight from the train...almost," he said in a sudden rush. "I've got to get back and unpack. Look, I'll see you at the welcoming dinner tonight, okay?"

Ron turned and walked slowly out of the hospital wing, perhaps not with the normal spring in his step, but with a new determination. Suddenly, he popped his head back through the door. "By the way, I forgot to ask. How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Bloody brilliant, Ron," Harry said as Hermione collapsed in laughter. "Now go unpack Lavender before she gets away."

"Right," said Ron with a now genuinely warm smile. "I can't wait for the three of us to be back together in the common room...or maybe the four of us," he said with a wink, and again disappeared.

Harry and Hermione, still giggling, turned to face each other, and simply smiled affectionately.

Hermione laid her head on his chest and let out a soft sigh.

"Oh, what wonderful adventures we are going to have together," she whispered.

"I love you, Hermione Granger, forever and ever," Harry replied.

"And I love you, Harry Potter, forever and ever."


Author notes: This was the first HP story I ever wrote. It has been sitting on my hard drive for two and a half years. I figured that I would finally post it as I fear that it may become obsolete in the wake of the release of Half Blood Price.