Soul Seeker

Hey all here is the next chapter.

Before we start I want to say something, THAT YOU ALL BETTER READ. I don’t care if you miss this because of a fault of your own. I will be severely pissed off with people who ignore this and then say, “Oh Teddy isn’t that age”. So listen up. In DH, JK has “It was mid March before…” then they go off to Hogwarts. The HP-Lexicon says that Teddy was born in either April or May, which makes him negative years old when his parents died.

So, Teddy was born April 12th 1997, for future reference, ok? He is just under a year old at the start of this chapter, and still living with Andromeda Tonks. Ted Tonks is dead, people, remember that.

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Words: 5,361
Chapter 5
Life Goes On
April 8th 1998.

Harry spent the two days since he accepted Draco as his mate living with the Malfoys. It got a little bit awkward sometimes, but Harry knew his trying made Draco very happy. It was a bit disconcerting; the moment he had accepted Draco he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to keep the blond happy. Likewise, Draco wanted nothing more than to please his mate in return. Harry supposed he should have questioned the blond, but his thoughts and his feelings weren’t hurting anyone, so he chose to keep them to himself.

“Are you going to tell them?” Draco asked softly.

He was still lying in bed, the covers drawn up to his chin. Harry lay beside him, on top of the duvet, fully dressed. The brunette’s fingers traced across Draco’s chin and up his cheeks. They ran through the blond hair, pushing it back off of his forehead, before Harry pressed a kiss to the pale skin.

“I’m telling them today.” He whispered, before his lips crushed against Draco’s. The taste of the blond boy exploded through his mouth, and he breathed in deeply, pulling out of the kiss and burying his face against Draco’s neck. “I like you.” He said softly, before standing from the bed.

Draco beamed up at him. “I love you.”

Harry had picked up the habit, over the last two days since Draco had first confessed he was in love, of telling Draco he cared for him, or found him attractive, or funny, or smart, when ever they did something intimate. They hadn’t gone further than kissing, or in Harry’s case running his hands along Draco’s bare back almost compulsively. He still had dreams of hacking off Draco’s wings and watching him die, and he was near obsessed by the fact that Draco didn’t have wings. Draco was safe if he didn’t have wings. Harry’s dreams couldn’t be prophetic then.

It was strange how, so suddenly, all of the hatred he had once felt was gone. But did he ever really hate Draco? Draco annoyed him, angered him, yes, but did he hate him? He hated Delores Umbridge, and Voldemort. It seemed that Draco hadn’t quite made it to that list. Where Harry had once immensely disliked Draco, he now felt a bubbling of warmth within his chest whenever he looked at the blond. It could have been a by-product of the bond trying to form between them, or the remains of his obsession from sixth year, but whatever it was Harry knew that there was no way he could imagine being without Draco now.

“Are you planning to stay in bed all day, lazy?” Harry grinned and pulled the blanket down the bed. Draco, bare-chested, pouted at his mate. He seemed to realize he wasn’t going to get any sympathy because his mouth turned down into a scowl, and he reached down to drag the duvet back up.

“Oh go away, Potter,” he muttered as he hid beneath the duvet.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Draco’s head popped back out from under the duvet, and he watched his mate with wide eyes. “I’ll be back soon, ok? Assuming Ron doesn’t kill me.” The blond immediately relaxed and offered his mate a wide smile as Harry left the bedroom.

“Hello Harry,” Narcissa immediately greeted.

Harry had had nothing to do with her before but since he had started living with them he had grown immensely fond of her. She was a kind woman when kindness was deserved, but she could be cruel and brutal if it was necessary to protect her family, and Harry found himself admiring that, even though the thought of hurting someone else to save someone made his stomach clench. But then he thought of someone hurting Draco, and realized that, yes, he could be cruel and brutal if need be as well.

“Hello Narcissa,” he said in return, adding a soft smile.

“I told you,” she took his hand as she spoke. “Call me Cissa. Honestly, dear, you’re far too formal.” She pulled him against her quickly, giving him a quick hug before moving to stand at her husband’s side.

The elder Veela stared at his son’s mate for a moment before nodding his head in greeting. Ever since Lucius had helped him prepare to face Voldemort that last time, they had gotten along fairly well, but Lucius wasn’t a man inclined to give away affection willy-nilly. One had to earn his respect, which Harry had, but you also had to deserve his love, to be worthy of his affection. Narcissa was his mate, and Draco was his child by her so both of those automatically qualified. Severus was his only real friend, he had helped Narcissa and Draco while he had been in Azkaban, and even earlier in their lives Severus had been there for their family. Severus deserved to be considered family. When Harry bonded with Draco, when Draco was finally as happy as he could be, then Lucius thought Harry would be worthy of being a Malfoy at last.

“Morning Lucius.” Harry said, having grown used to the man’s behaviour, he didn’t expect a reply. As predicted, Lucius just nodded his head again, and went back to reading the paper. Draco had explained it all to him once, but he had just gotten so overwhelmed he had told Draco not to worry. Harry had suffered through worse behaviour, and he was willing to let Lucius come to terms in his own time.

“Goodbye Harry, dear,” Cissa said, as Harry opened the doorway. The portrait closed behind him and Narcissa shot a withering look in Lucius’ direction. “You could try a bit more, dear.”

“When he has earned it.” Lucius said, not looking away from the paper.

XXX

April 8th 1998.

By this point, any child who still had a family or a home to return to had gone from Hogwarts. Many of the elder students had chosen to remain on for a little longer and continue to help repair the damage done during the battle. This included many of the sixth and seventh years. All of the Slytherins had been sent home, regardless of whether or not they wanted to stay (except Draco). Those who had no where to go were being kept in the Slytherin common room under the watchful eye of Horace Slughorn, but they weren’t allowed to leave, and they had to take their meals down there as well.

Gryffindor Tower was partially empty just then, because people were either still in bed or were already started their tasks for the day. Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting in their common room with Luna. While she wasn’t a Gryffindor, she was a core member of Dumbledore’s Army and one of Harry’s close friends. The other Weasleys were staying at Hogwarts as well, but most of them were so busy they were hardly ever around.

George sat beside the fire, his face alternating between red, orange and white as the flames cast lights over him as it flickered. He didn’t look away from the fire as he listened to his only sister bitching, like there was nothing more important in life. Her brother had died, and she could only think about boys!

“I just don’t understand it,” Ginny whined. “He loves me, I know he does!”

Ron shrugged his shoulders. He may be oblivious at times, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. If someone told you twice that they didn’t want you; then they didn’t want you, it was that simple. Sure, he was annoyed that Harry had dumped his sister, and yeah, he wanted them to be together, but Harry had the right to be happy as well.

“He belongs to someone else.” Luna’s voice was lyrical, and it caused everyone to turn and look at her.

Ginny frowned. “He belongs with me. He’ll understand that. I love him, no one could love him more than I do.”

“Yes,” Luna said. Ginny smiled, thinking Luna was agreeing with her, until Luna spoke again. “He will love Harry more.”

“He?” Neville said softly, his forehead creased in thought. He hadn’t really noticed anything about Harry that would have made him think the brunette was gay. He might have been a little bit preoccupied with Malfoy during sixth year, but that was because he was out to kill Dumbledore.

“Yes, he,” Luna said dreamily. Her eyes were fixed on the portrait hole and she waved at it just as it opened. “Hello Harry.”

“Hey Luna.” He gave her a grin, before noticing everyone was looking at him strangely. “Is something wrong, guys?”

“Tell her, Harry!” Ginny demanded at once. “Tell her you aren’t gay!” She had stood up from the sofa, and her hands were on her hips as she glared around the room at each of her friends. George looked over to Harry, turning his face away from the fire for the first time since the night before. He had stayed up all night staring at it, afraid to sleep in case he dreamt of Fred.

“There was actually something I needed to talk to you about.” He rubbed at his chin nervously, his foot scuffing against the floor. For the first time in a month George felt remotely interested in something other than moping. “Maybe you should sit down Ginny? Hey George, didn’t see you there.” Harry waved, and everyone turned to stare at the Weasley in surprise: no one had seen him there.

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked, reaching forward to place her hand on Harry’s knee gently. “You can tell us, you know.”

Harry took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but Ron spoke before he could. “Yeah, mate, you can tell us, honestly.” Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry had to fight back a chuckle as Ron looked gormlessly at her and mouthed, “what?”

“It’s a bit complicated.”

“Tell us the short version then,” Luna suggested. He reached out to squeeze her hand and she smiled reassuringly at him.

“Draco is a Veela. I’m his mate. I’ve accepted him.” Luna giggled and Harry just shrugged at her. Ginny’s mouth was opening and closing but no words were coming out. Hermione and Neville had both blushed at the implications of Harry’s sentences. Harry and Draco are mates; Harry and Draco would have sex; which one of them would bottom?

“What?” Ron choked out, his throat feeling cloggy and raw all of a sudden. Swallowing became painful for some reason, but he took a deep breath, ignored the strange stinging sensation in his chest and asked again, “what the fucking hell?”

“Maybe you should have gone with the complicated version?” Luna said with another giggle.

“Yeah, maybe.” Neville said, shooting Harry an encouraging smile.

“Lucius is a Veela. So is Draco. He came into his inheritance when he turned sixteen, but he only realized I was his mate during the last year or so. There were signs, subtle hints, but nothing out right. There’s something wrong with the bond. My soul isn’t calling to his like it’s meant to. I can’t feel him, but he can almost feel me; his side will become clearer when the bond is in place. I’ve accepted him. Mainly for the fact that I can’t just watch him die and do nothing, but also because I’ve grown to care for him. He’s all I’ve thought about for a long time now, and yes Hermione, you were right, I was and still am obsessed with Draco Malfoy.”

She grinned at that confession but then her expression turned serious. “I want to be cynical and accuse Malfoy of lying to you, of trying to use or hurt you, but Veela would never lie about their mates. If he says that you are his mate then you must be. What concerns me is the lack of progress on your side of the bond. You don’t think your scar could be affecting it do you?”

“Well my scar connected me with Voldemort, but he’s dead.” Harry said, frowning.

“So it doesn’t hurt any more then?” Neville asked, his eyes narrowed on Harry’s forehead. “It looks a bit red.”

“It actually still does hurt sometimes. I just thought it wasn’t important.” Harry rubbed at the scar thoughtfully. “I’ve had it for more than sixteen years, and Voldemort’s only been dead a month. Maybe the scar needs time to realize that?”

“Oh Harry.” Hermione said, her bottom lip trembling. “I think, if we find a way to get rid of the scar then you’d be able to feel your part of the Veela call. But why would the scar still hurt?” She stood up, and was probably about to rush to the library to research everything about Veela’s and their soul call but Ginny’s question stopped her.

“Why would you help him feel the call?” The redheaded girl frowned, her face paler than usual.

“Because then Harry can bond with Malfoy, and he won’t die.” Neville said, turning to look at Harry. The brunette nodded slightly and Neville looked relieved that he hadn’t said the right thing.

“Why though? Who cares if Malfoy dies? Why are you helping him, Hermione?” Ginny’s voice had suddenly grown high pitched, the words had taken on a shrieking quality. She stood up again, her eyes glaring at the bushy haired girl.

“I’m helping Harry.”

“Why?” She hissed again. “Harry’s obviously abandoning us all for Malfoy, why should we help him?”

Luna winced. “Because he’s our friend. That’s what friends do.”

“He sacrificed a lot for us, Ginny, the least we can do is be a little nicer around Malfoy.” Ron felt like he had swallowed a ton of sand, but he got the words out eventually. Harry beamed at him so brightly that Ron immediately felt better about having to say ‘nice’ in the same sentence as ‘Malfoy’.

“And what about what I sacrificed?” She sniffled, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. “I gave him my heart. Aren’t I more important than Malfoy?” She looked at her brother.

Ron turned his face away from her, his eyes falling on the despondent form of his brother. “This is Malfoy’s life we’re talking about Ginny, not his heart. He could die.”

“Who cares? Let him die.” She shouted. Her hand came out to slap Ron, but George grabbed it. Angrily, he squeezed her wrist until she gasped and dropped, defeated, back onto the couch.

“Let him die?” George asked. His voice was gravely, as if he had been screaming for a long time, or if he hadn’t spoken in a while; either could have been possible, Harry thought, looking at him. George looked a mess. His eyes were sunken and his skin was almost grey in colour, his hair lank and he had lost weight so now his clothes were hanging off him.

“What if it were Fred? Would you let Fred die?” Ginny opened her mouth, but George squeezed her wrist again. “Wait, Fred’s already dead. But that doesn’t matter does it, because you’re so busy moping and moaning over Harry like a bitch in heat. Not that I blame you,” he started to sneer, his voice sounding more sarcastic than sincere now, “Harry is a fine piece of man meat. I think I might just make a play for him myself. If, you know, I wasn’t mourning for our brother.” He threw her arm away from him and stalked back to his seat by the fire.

Silently, Harry moved away from his friends. He sat behind George, one arm around the red heads neck and the other around his waist. George cried for the first time since Fred died, and Harry held him. Tears dripped onto George’s neck, and the red head smiled because he wasn’t the only one in pain.

XXX

April 8th 1998. That evening.

“How did it go?” Draco asked as he followed Harry into the Great Hall. The elder Malfoys were in front of them, Narcissa’s hand cupping Lucius’ elbow. No body sat at the House Tables anymore, instead they congregated around their family or friends; those they felt safe with.

Harry’s friends stood as one, waving at him from the Gryffindor table. “Better than I expected,” Harry said with a grin as Hermione ran towards him. He caught her in a hug, one hand reaching out to squeeze Draco’s hand comfortingly. The blond was, at first, irritated and jealous that someone else was touching his mate, but when Harry took his hand he relaxed slightly. He was taken by surprise when Hermione pulled him into a hug, crushing him against her for a moment before letting go.

“Welcome to the family.” Hermione said with a smile.

Draco’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, knowing full well that none of those people were relatives of Harry’s. “There is a family you are born to,” Harry said softly as he glanced back at the Gryffindor table. “And there is the family you make for yourself. I got lucky there.” He squeezed Draco’s hand again. The Weasley family were sitting with his friends, as well as what was left of the Order of the Phoenix. Ginny wasn’t there, he noticed, but George was.

Draco pulled his mother after him, and Lucius followed his mate. Harry sat down first, next to George with Draco on his other side, followed by Narcissa and Lucius. Many of the people at the table gave them dirty looks or suspicious glances, but Harry’s family had already been told by his friends, and each of them were as courteous as they could be towards the Malfoys. Lucius just nodded at them in turn, but Narcissa and Draco attempted to make meaningless conversation with the others.

George leant closer to Harry when Draco wasn’t looking. “I meant what I said, you know,” he smiled as he spoke, and it looked so strange on the face of this pale, thin stranger, “you are a fine piece of man meat.” Ron, who had been eavesdropping, spat out his pumpkin juice and the elder Weasley brothers laughed at the look of indignation of Kingsley’s wet face. “Oh Ron, you had that coming.” George said, not smiling this time. His attention remained on Harry, and it became obvious that Harry was the only one he would willingly talk to. If he was asked a question by any of the others, he would grunt or shrug or shake his head, but he would ask Harry questions first. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” George said quietly, his mouth brushing against Harry’s ear.

“Me too.” Harry grinned back at him. His eyes narrowed however, when Ginny glanced over at them from the Hufflepuff table and she sneered at her brother. “She’ll get over it, right?”

“No doubt.” Hermione declared with a delicate sniff. “But anyway, Harry, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I think I might have a way to deal with your scar.” Her nose twitched as she thought hard for a moment. “We could use a dark arts purification ritual, or a potion which will remove all traces and effects of dark magic from a person. It might help remove whatever part of the curse scar is linked to your soul.”

“Sure, Mione, let me know and I’m willing to do anything.”

“Yeah, he trusts you.” Ron grinned and nudged his girlfriend. “Don’t know why though. Completely evil, you are.” She glared at him and Harry smiled softly.

He was going to say something more, but a reddish-brown owl swept into the hall and dropped a letter onto Harry’s plate.

“Don’t touch it!” Hermione shouted, her wand pointed at the letter. “It could be cursed.” She waved her wand and the letter flashed blue, indicating it hadn’t been cursed or tampered with. Harry picked it up and read it.

“Where did you learn those spells?” Narcissa asked curiously. They were all dark, and they were very advanced.

“I grew extremely competent at de-cursing letters during fourth year when everyone thought I was Harry’s girlfriend but I was cheating on him with Viktor.” Ron mumbled something about ‘Vicky’ but Hermione chose to ignore him. “Well, Harry, who is it from?”

“Andromeda.” He grinned, “Teddy’s birthday is in four days. We have to go buy him something.”

“Yeah, Harry you need to get some clothes too, mate.” Neville said with a teasing grin.

“Am I not wearing clothes?” He asked, teasing back, and picking at his shirt. “Or am I imagining clothing?”

“You’re imagining it.” Luna said softly. “You really are naked, you know.” Ron stuck his tongue out and shuddered. They were brothers; he had no wish to think of Harry naked. Or with Malfoy. The blond was looking at Harry intently now, his eyes running over every inch of the brunette.

”You are sufficiently clothed,” he said at last, “I have no need to be jealous.”

“Of course you don’t.” Hermione said sternly, glaring between Neville and Luna. “Harry is your mate, he chose you. Those two are just immature.” The Gryffindor looked down at the table with a blush on his cheeks, but Luna just smiled vacantly at the Veela.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said, standing up. She skipped away from the table, waving over her shoulder. “I want to come to the party, Harry.” She called back before she left the Hall.

“Hasn’t she already met them? She spent the best part of last year locked in their dungeon.” Ron glared at Lucius.

“She’s forgiven them, obviously, Ronald!” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “I’ll be in the library.” She stood, and left the hall. Ron followed her with a sheepish grin at Harry.

“They are-” Narcissa tried to think of a kind word that would describe Harry’s friends. They had left the Great Hall a little while ago and were now making their way back to the Slytherin Head Boy dorms where Draco’s family lived.

“Different, I know.” He smiled. “But they’re family.”

“May I see the letter from my sister?” Cissa asked as she sank down into the sofa beside her husband. There were two sofas in the common room, and Draco and Harry took the other one, the blond automatically leaning against his mate’s side. Harry handed her the letter.

Dearest Harry, (April 7th 1998),

Hello my child. I know it was only recently that I was at the school, but we already miss you. So I send heartfelt greetings from both Teddy and myself.

As you know, Teddy will be one-years-old in a number of days. Molly has agreed to help me throw a small party for him, just family. Of course, you are the first person I’m inviting.

I wish you would reconsider, my boy. I’m not as young as I was; far too old to care for a baby, and my dear Nymphandora thought of you as very much a brother. Remus loved you like a son. They would have wanted you to care for their son. It isn’t that I don’t want him, I do, very much, but you would be better for him. I know you are young, but you have many more people to help you than I do.

Anyway, there is no need to buy Teddy anything, though knowing you you’ll spoil the poor boy. By all means, spend as you wish, but he will love you even if he received nothing. You are family, Harry. And we both love you as such, even if I look a little too much like Bellatrix!

Invite your friends, dear. They are family too. I look forward to seeing you, as does Teddy. He’s spent the past week with black hair and green eyes you know.

Reconsider. All my love, and affection,

Andromeda Tonks.

Narcissa smiled at her son’s mate. Inside, she was confused, but she didn’t let it show on the outside. “You know my sister?”

“Yeah, her daughter was in the Order, she married my godfather. The first time I met Andromeda I thought she was Bellatrix and tried to attack her.” Harry smiled faintly at the memory, before he frowned. “Teddy is their child, Tonks’ and my godfather’s I mean.”

“The werewolf?” Lucius asked, his voice neutral. Harry nodded. “I see.”

“What was that about his eyes and his hair?” Draco asked as he took the letter off of his mother and read it for himself.

“He’s a Metamorphimaus, like his mother. He can change his hair and eye colour and shift his facial features a little. Tonks used to turn her nose into a pigs snout, it used to be so funny.”

“Are you going to the party?” Draco asked softly.

“Of course. I have to get Teddy something first, but yeah, and I’m sure the others are coming too. When I tell them. You can come as well.”

“It’s a private party, Harry.” Narcissa reminded him.

“She said family only. You are her sister you know, and Draco, you’d be Teddy’s second cousin.” He shrugged. “I’m sure Andy won’t mind.”

“I’d go,” Draco said, at the same time his mother said, “we’ll see.”

XXX

April 9th 1998. Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley had been up and running since the moment Voldemort was defeated. Books about, and posters of, Harry were suddenly appearing on all the shelves at Flourish and Blotts. There were action figures of Harry riding the Firebolt at the Quidditch store. Robes with ‘POTTER’ sewn onto the back of them were available at Madame Malkins. It was pandemonium, but people didn’t expect Harry to be out and about so soon, so most of them over looked the group of friends. The handful of people who noticed them were kept away by Draco’s glare or a handy little spell Hermione knew.

Harry, as well as Draco, and his friends were half way through their shopping trip. Ginny had agreed to come, but she spent most of her time glaring at Draco’s head, instead of shopping. Most of his friends had found something to give Teddy but Harry wanted his gift to be special. He wanted Teddy to feel the same way about a gift from him as Harry felt when he thought about Sirius buying him a Firebolt.

“What about this?” Ron pointed at the window of the Quality Quidditch Supplies store.

There was an advertisement in the window for the newest line of brooms, the Lightening Strike. “I think Teddy is a bit young. Though I might get one for myself.” He turned away from the store, and his eyes landed on the window display of the potions shop. He frowned as he walked towards it, almost drawn to the bold printed flyer in the window.

The Best Memory Money Can Buy, it read and he leant closer to read the small print. Afraid of forgetting? Worried about remembering? Why not save your memories? With the Memoraflux Potion memories can be turned into photographs and stored in this special album. For an extra Galleon, a name, or a family tree can be inscribed on the front cover. See in store for further details.

“What about that?” Harry asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he walked inside. He found the owner of the apocrathy almost immediately. They nodded at each other, and Harry waited patiently until the Wizard had finished serving the other customer.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“How much is the Memoraflux potion and how does it work?”

“Eighteen Galleons, sir.” That would be about £90 sterling. “You pour a little of the potion onto a page in the album and then you think hard about a particular memory, and the potion will automatically create three photos per page about that memory. They will not move. Each page should have a different memory, and each will need a drop of the potion. The potion will last for the whole album. Any album can be used, but more of the Memoraflux potion will need to be purchased. It is ten Galleons for the potion on its own.”

“Could I have one please? And could you have ‘Teddy Lupin, April 12 1997’ inscribed on the front please?”

“That will be nineteen galleons.” Harry handed the money over, and the shopkeeper went to do as he was asked.

Harry’s friends had waited outside of the store, and they all gathered around him to see what he had bought when he came back outside. He showed them, and Ron and Hermione immediately offered to help him fill some of the pages. “You should ask the order members too!” Hermione said.

“Oi, Malfoy, did your parents ever meet Ted Tonks?”

“Once.” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. “Though I doubt it was a pleasant experience. You might want to not include that memory.”

“Whatever,” Ron said with a roll of his eyes. “I was only asking.”

“Are we finished then?” Luna asked with a smile. “I think it’s time to be getting back. We don’t want to miss it.”

“Miss what?” They asked together. Ginny even got over her anger long enough to be curious.

“The memorial is being erected today.” She frowned at them all. “Don’t you read the Quibbler anymore?” She looked exasperated with them for a second before she seemed to let it pass away and she smiled again. “Harry should go get George.”

When they arrived at Diagon Alley, George had left them saying he had to check on business. It had been closed for the last two months of the war, and it was the last place he and Fred had felt truly safe. Now, he stood outside, just looking up on a part of his life that used to be happy. He wasn’t a part of that life anymore, he thought. He heard Harry calling him, and he unwillingly left Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and made his way back to the group of friends.

They appeared at Hogwarts a good hour later, having flooed to Hogsmeade and then walked to the school. A large crowd had congregated around the black lake. The group slowed as they were walking past. Draco spotted Severus and his parents and pulled Harry towards them. The Weasley’s and Hermione went to the rest of the red haired family and Luna and Neville found their father and grandmother standing side by side.

Beside the lake, beneath the shade of a tree that Harry had always been fond of sitting under was now a statue. It wasn’t overly large like the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Ministry, now was it like the one in Godric’s Hollow. It was just over six feet tall, slightly taller than Harry himself, and was standing on a flat cylindrical base. The statue was of Harry. He was made of solid marble, with a scar, glasses and the Gryffindor scarf around his neck. His hand was outstretched, and it was holding two wands. One was of holly, and the other was made of yew. Harry’s and Voldemort’s wand. His marble robes spread out behind him, as if it were windy or he had been running. His eyes were studded with chips of emeralds and he was smiling.

Harry, himself, groaned at the sight. It was just what he needed; more hero-worship. Draco elbowed him in the ribs, and Harry chuckled, before reading the inscription.

There were words carved into the squat base that Harry stood on. It read:

March 24th 1998.

Life Goes On And It’s Only Going To Make Me Strong.

Harry met the eyes of his friends from across the crowd and they all smiled at each other. He felt Draco squeeze his hand and he squeezed back lightly. They were alive, and it was over. They were as safe as they had ever been since that night in 1981 when Harry defeated Voldemort for the first time.

When the crowd noticed that Harry was there, they all cheered. Harry smiled, blushed, but accepted it in stride, because he had finally grown up to know that some people just needed heroes to worship, just like others needed villains to follow. But that was life.

XXX

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ALSO, Dumbledore was good, but misguided just like in canon, in this fiction. He really did say, “you disgust me” to Snape in DH. The memories from the last scene were from DH, not from another fiction like someone accused.

Thanks for reading. Go check out BLACK COMPLICATION, I actually updated it.