Into the Light

Finally, they were done. They had survived all of it. Hogwarts, their NEWTS, Voldemort, everything, they were done with it all. Walking down the platform at King's Cross, Harry looked back at the last seven years of his life with an amazement he never thought he would feel. Finally, he was free to live his life on his own terms, and noone else's.

After a harsh and brutal struggle, Voldemort had finally been defeated, never to return and his follower hunted down and captured or killed. It had been a bitter, costly struggle, so many people dead and injured. Even now, after four months, there were still people in hospital, recovering from their injuries. Parvati's sister, Padma, had lost both her legs below the knees, amputated after a collapsed wall crushed them beyond repair. She was due to be fitted for magical prosthetics similar to the hand Wormtail had received from Voldemort, only not made out of silver.

Wormtail, the weak sniveling coward that he was, had laid low for two years after Voldemort's resurrection. But in the end, he had resurfaced during a daring raid on Hogsmeade by Voldemort, and had ended up repaying his debt to Harry by taking a curse meant for him. He had survived it though, and was captured by Aurors. It had taken several months, and repeated interrogations under Veritaserum, but in the end he had convinced the Ministry of the innocence of Harry's godfather in the betrayal and death of his family so many years before.

He and his friends had wound up celebrating this belated celebration late into the night. Noone said a word about the fact that Parvati had fallen asleep in Harry's bed when the celebration had ended. They were too preoccupied with the fact that Hermione had done the same in Ron's bed. Both were blushing profusely the next day at this undeniable announcement to the whole school that the two had finally worked up the courage to start dating properly.

Enraged by the loss and capture of so many of his key lieutenants, Voldemort had grown impatient and recklessly attacked Hogwarts just after the new year had begun. Many of the Aurors had been drawn away from watching the school, a feint by some of the Dementors in another part of the country. By the time they had realized they had been duped, the battle was mostly over.

Despite the numerous injuries he had sustained during the battle, Harry had held fast and managed to finally vanquish the darkness that had hung over his life for as long as he could remember it. He had endured more pain then he though was humanly possible to feel. But he had indeed done it. Voldemort was dead. Voldemort was gone. Forever.

Though mercifully few had lost their lives, it had been far too high a price to pay. Ten students had been killed, including Draco Malfoy who had left the school at Christmas to openly join Voldemort's forces. Malfoy had wound up being killed by none other than Professor Snape, his former head of house. And Harry could not help but wonder whom it surprised more at that moment, himself or Malfoy, that Snape had done the deed. It had been the ill-tempered Potions Master's last act. Not a moment later, a Dementor had swooped down upon him and performed its kiss, leaving him an empty husk of a person, lifeless and empty, yet still alive. Harry still grimaced when he thought of that. It was not a fate he would have wished on the man, let alone anyone else. It was not a fitting punishment for any act, no matter how horrendous it might be.

Yes, it had been a costly battle. Professor Flitwick, the kind and charitable charms teacher would probably never see again, and if he did, it would not be very well. Many students now had scars of their own; scars to match the one Harry had carried on his forehead for sixteen years. It would be a long time before everyone who survived had fully recovered, it would be a lifetime before any of them forgot.

After several weeks, in which everyone was forced to relive the horrible events of that day over and over again as the Ministry pieced events together for a formal recording, things settled down and the students resumed their studies. The seventh years actually looked forward to taking their NEWTs. They reckoned the exams would be laughably easy after everything they had just accomplished. But midnight still found most of them hunched over their books in the common room getting ready for them, better to be safe then sorry they reckoned.

Amidst all this, Harry had found himself preoccupied with new thoughts and questions. What to do with the rest of his life? Where to live and who to live it with? Questions he'd dared not ask himself only a few short weeks prior.

He knew he would always have a home with the Weasleys, he knew they were the family he had always longed for as a little boy. He would always cherish the time he spent at the Burrow, but that life was behind him now, and he was now looking forward, not backwards. It was time to strike out for himself, to make his own decisions, to make his own fate. As for who to live it with, the answer to that question was almost never far from his side.

His future was in front of him, and he was eagerly looking forward to spending it with the person walking besides him, her engagement ring glistening in the light of day, as it fit snugly on her finger.

While everyone had been busy recovering from their injuries and frantically preparing for their exams, Harry had found himself thinking of something completely different. Parvati. The irony of his situation never occurred to him. He had gone from one extreme to the complete opposite end of the emotional spectrum. He had gone from being morosely depressed at the constant threat of Voldemort, to being on the verge of being deliriously obsessed with spending the rest of his life with his girlfriend.

It had taken all night chat with his best friends for Harry to realize what he felt for Parvati, and what he wanted for his life. What he wanted for their life. The next day he had snuck into Hogsmeade to make the appropriate arrangements, or at least as many as he could on such short notice. A quick note sent to Remus Lupin, he hoped, would take care of the rest.

He had planned to put his plan into action after their NEWTs had ended, but once again his best friends came to his rescue and told him to do it before they began, lest he drive himself into a panic and fail his exams. They promised to keep everyone else in line that night, and make sure noone said anything if they were late getting back to Gryffindor Tower. It turned out they didn't get back until the next morning.

He had arranged everything as perfectly as he possibly could. Which was saying something given the lack of experience he had in such matters. A quick conference with her sister had calmed some of his concerns on the matter. And later that night, during a veritable feast provided strait from the kitchens, he had carefully, and gently, knelt down in front of her, and proposed to her. She had broken out in tears as he nervously slipped the ring onto her finger, and then smothered him with kisses. He had to fight back a laugh as he realized the pattern of tear filled kisses he seemed to receive when in that particular room.

They had curled up in front of a conveniently provided fireplace all night, talking about everything that had happened to them, and everything they hoped for in the years to come. The snogging had been a pleasant experience too. They had come close to breaking their celibacy that night, but had found the strength to refrain until their wedding night. She was worth waiting for, she was worth dying for, but most importantly, she was worth living for. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms that night; waking up the next morning feeling fit and restful, ready to take on the world.

Appropriately enough, their NEWTs began that very afternoon.

Now, as they exited King's Cross, arms linked together, they felt the warmth of the sun on their faces, and she leaned into him to give him a kiss. He couldn't help but grin as he kissed her back.

They were going to be spending the next few weeks apart. She was going to home to spend time with her family and help Padma adjust to her new feet.

Meanwhile, Harry would be staying with the Weasleys, splitting his time between giving what he hoped were the last interviews he would ever give on the downfall of Voldemort, and searching for a new home to live in with his soon-to-be wife. Eventually his father's last remaining friend presented him with an ideal selection. Remus had found a small country house in Berkshire that he knew would be perfect.

Six months later, after a memorable honeymoon, he carried his wife over the threshold to their new home and they set themselves to immediately beginning their life together.

Lying awake in bed that night, as he watched his wife sleep, Harry still couldn't believe his life actually belonged to himself now and not to anyone else. He couldn't believe he had actually had someone to share it with, who loved him for him, and not the Boy Who Lived.

Thirty years later, Parvati Potter couldn't help but laugh as she reminded her husband of the prediction their teacher had made all those years ago as she and their twelve children watched as he was installed as the brand new Minister of Magic.