A Christmas Miracle

Something happened the night Harry went to visit his parents' grave. Something that changed the course of history.

A Christmas Miracle

Harry looked at the names forever engraved in the smooth, marble stone.

IN LOVING MEMORY

JAMES POTTER

BORN 27 MARCH 1960 - DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

LILY POTTER

BORN 30 JANUARY 1960 - DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

THE LAST ENEMY THAT SHALL BE DESTROYED IS DEATH

He stared for what seemed like hours, but was in reality only a few minutes, knowing, subconsciously, that his parents’… bodies…  lay beneath his feet. The idea disturbed him, and he took a step backwards. Hermione put a steadying hand on his shoulder, sensing his thoughts.

“I-” he began, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I wish they were here. That- that they hadn’t…” he trailed off, unable to finish due to the constricting of his throat.

Hermione wrapped her arm around his shoulders as the tears threatened to spill.

“I know,” she said, quietly, her voice, too, filled with emotion, “I know you do, Harry. And I’m sure that, wherever your parents are, they’re wishing they were here with you as well. It’s so unfair, that they were taken from you like that, long before their time, but they loved you, they died to save you, and I’m sure that if they were here now, they’d be very proud of you, of all that you've been through and done…”

Harry sniffed, the tears streaming freely down his cheeks, the floodgates open.

“Thank you, Hermione. I needed to hear that.”

He gave her a sad smile, and knelt down before the final resting place of those who had died to save him, and Hermione stepped back, out of hearing range, to give her best friend the privacy he deserved.

“Hey, Mum, Dad…” Harry began, his voice sounding strained with the effort to prevent himself from sobbing, “Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you before, but no one ever told me where your graves were. I know it’s not much of an excuse, but I…” he took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“All I’ve ever longed for is a family,” he continued, “Some nights, I used to lie there in that stupid cupboard and dream that my whole life was a nightmare, that I’d wake up and you’d be there to comfort me. Of course, that wasn’t possible.” He shook his head sadly, “Then, when Hagrid came to rescue me, I thought I’d finally found where I’d belonged, somewhere where I was not a ‘freak’, where I would fit-in and just be… normal. But that could never happen. I was praised one year and shunned the next. Without Ron and Hermione by my side, I’m sure I would have given up a long time ago.” He paused again, contemplating, before continuing, “Then, when Sirius died and I heard that stupid prophecy, everything suddenly made sense. I was never going to have a normal life - I was destined to be special, extraordinary, and ever since then, I’ve managed to live with it. And I know I’ll never truly get to know you, as you will never really know me, but I’d like to think that, wherever you are, you’d be proud of me, and for you to know that I love you.”

At his words, a great wind blew through the graveyard, as if some otherworldly being had heard and was answering. It whipped around the Boy-Who-Lived, a vortex of fallen leaves and icy snow, and suddenly Harry heard whispers in the wind as his tears fell onto the damp earth beneath him, filled with the magic of his grief, pain, strife and longing, invoking something ancient and long-forgotten.

The storm hid Harry from Hermione’s view, and she sprinted towards him, horror and fear showing on her face as she worried for his life, but not able to get close. Meanwhile, the wild magic swirled through Harry, causing his eyes to glow with a bright emerald fire as something within him broke free, and suddenly there was an excruciating pain in his head, and an awful scream filled the air as some sort of black vapour came leaking out of his scar, taken away by the wind, and Harry fell to the ground, unconscious, but irrevocably and inevitably changed.

Hermione ran toward him as the vortex dissipated and immediately checked for a pulse. She sighed with relief when she found one, immediately stood up and cast a feather-light charm on Harry so she could pick him up and disapparated, not fully realising the importance of what had just occurred.

…::-::…

When Harry awoke two days later, it was slowly, and with aching limbs. He blinked his eyes open blearily, and groaned as he rolled over, alerting his companion to his recently-regained consciousness. Hermione shot up from where she was sitting, leaving the book that she had been looking at, (not really reading - how could she when she was too preoccupied worrying about Harry?), rushing over to where he lay on the bunk and throwing herself onto him.

“Oh, Harry! I’m so glad you’re awake! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I couldn’t find any external injuries, but you were unconscious, and it’s been two days! I’m not even sure what happened, there was just this tornado surrounding you that came out of nowhere and I couldn't get to you! And then when it disappeared you were lying on the ground as pale as snow, and I thought you’d died because there was this terrible scream! I thought you were dead!”

Hermione was sobbing by the end of her rant and Harry had his arms wrapped around her as he managed to sit up, still feeling totally confused, but doing his best to comfort her.

“It’s alright, ‘Mione, I’m alright. Whatever strange thing happened, it’s over now. I’m alright.”

Hermione looked up at him gratefully, her tears subsiding, before she blushed when she realised that Harry wasn’t, in fact, wearing a shirt. Harry seemed to realise it then too.

“Where’s my shirt?” He blurted out, blinking when he realised he wasn’t wearing his glasses either, but could see perfectly - better than he ever had before, actually.

If possible, Hermione’s blush deepened, “Well, you see, when I brought you back here, I realised that either your clothes had shrunk, or you’d suddenly grown, as they seemed too small…” She avoided looking him in the eyes, “I also needed to check to see if you had any injuries… so I took them off…”

Harry smirked at her obvious embarrassment. ‘Only Hermione.’

“It’s okay,” he assured her, “I was just asking, but I would like something to change into?”

“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed, relieved the awkward moment was over and grateful for Harry’s relaxed attitude, “I think some of Ron’s things are still here - those should fit.”

“Are you sure? I mean, Ron’s much taller than I am…”

Hermione shook her head as she returned with the clothes, an amused smile on her face. She knew Harry had always resented being short.

“Not anymore.”

She handed him the bundle and silently left him to get changed in privacy.

Harry slowly got out of bed, shaking the aches from his limbs and began to put on the clothes, feeling a bit strange. What exactly had happened? He remembered speaking to his parents… and that was about it. What had occurred to knock him out? He also felt a lot lighter - a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and his head felt clearer, as if he had been living his whole life with it full of fog.

Those thoughts soon went out the window, however, when he finished getting changed, looked at himself in the mirror and gasped.

Hermione had indeed been right - he had grown, and quite a bit too. Where once he had been about 5ft 6, he now topped 6ft, fitting into Ron’s clothes easily. His eyes also seemed much brighter with the absence of his glasses, but the best thing, in his mind, was that that stupid lightning-bolt scar had gone - disappeared completely - leaving his forehead unblemished as if had never even been there.

Once again, he asked himself, “What had happened?!”

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the tent to find Hermione waiting for him.

“Feeling better?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”

They stood in silence, contemplating.

“So, what’s next?”

Harry thought for a moment.

“I think,” he said, carefully, “that it’s time we paid a visit to the goblins.”

…::-::…

Meanwhile, far away from where, simultaneously, Harry awoke, a grave in Godric’s Hollow was blasted open, and a man in his late thirties emerged from within, coughing and spluttering, as an amber-haired woman followed after him, both covered in dirt.

“James?” She asked the man “What’s going on? Where are we? Why were we buried underground?”

“I think that’s why, Lily,” he said, his breath nothing more than a shallow whisper, as he pointed to a marble gravestone behind them.

Lily looked at, and read the inscription, her face paling at the sight.

“Oh Merlin!” She exclaimed, “We died, James! We died and left Harry behind! Oh Harry! Where is he? Is he even…?”

James wrapped his wife up in his arms, “I don’t know Lily, but let's get out of here. We’re never going to find out if we stay put.”

She nodded silently and separated from him, but took his hand a moment later as they left to find some answers.

The first thing they came across was the statue, which changed as soon as they came within a few feet of it, and gasped.

“That’s us,” James whispered, “and Harry. Why would there be a statue of us?”

“We need to get to the house,” Lily responded, taking James by the hand and dragging him towards the place they had once called home.

They stopped dead as soon as they caught sight of it, and Lily burst out sobbing.

The house was in ruins, looking to have been blown apart, with years of neglect and weather damage taking their toll. Slowly, they stepped closer, until they came across a sign. James read it aloud, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.”

All around the sign, people had left messages, whether it be in everlasting-ink, or carving it in, such as; “Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.”, “If you read this, Harry, we’re all behind you!”, “Long live Harry Potter.”

Lily and James Potter, returned from the dead by some sort of miracle, looked over it in relief and awe.

“He’s alive, James, Harry’s alive! He survived!” She exclaimed, letting out a sob of relief, and buried her face in her husband’s chest. James himself wrapped his arms around her as tears, too, fell from his eyes.

“We’ll find him now, Lils. We just have to find out the date. By the looks of that sign, it’s been years. Let’s see if we can't find someone to ask.”

He once again took her by the hand, and together they went to find someone. They soon came across a man walking his dog.

“Excuse me?” James called, walking up to him, “Sorry to bother you, but would you mind telling us the date?”

The man looked at him as if he’d grown another head, but replied, “27 December.”

“And, uh, the year please?”

The man looked at him even more strangely, but responded, “1997?”

Lily gasped softly, and James thanked the man, before they turned and walked away again.

“He’s seventeen, James,” Lily said, softly, “Our baby’s all grown up.”

“We need to find him,” James agreed, and scratched around in his pockets, breathing a sigh of relief when he found his wand. Checking to make sure nobody was watching, he placed it flat on his palm and whispered, “Point me Harry Potter.”

Immediately, the wand spun around and pointed in an easterly direction.

“Alright,” Lily said, “Let’s go find our son.”

…::-::…

Concurrently, the aforementioned son sat in a comfortable chair, before the desk of Gringotts’ head goblin - Ragnok - with Hermione by his side.

Luckily, the goblins were neutral, or he would either be dead already, in jail, or maybe worse.

Thank Merlin for small mercies.

“Let me make sure I understand you correctly, Mr Potter.” Ragnok said, slowly, “You’re saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has left a dark artefact in one of our vaults, and you want us to give it to you?”

“Well,” Harry admitted, sheepishly, “I’m not quite 100% sure that he left it in a vault, but there’s a good chance that he did. And I do not expect you to just give it to me. I assure you that I would ensure the correct amount of compensation can be removed from my vault.”

Ragnok raised an eyebrow at his statement, but sighed resignedly, “Alright, I shall have a curse-breaker scan the vaults. Do you have any idea which vault this… artefact could be in?”

Harry looked at Hermione, who replied, “The strongest possibility is Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Ragnok’s eyebrows seemed to rise even higher, “Well, I suppose that does make sense. I shall ask a curse-breaker to check immediately.”

With that, he ran a small, silver bell that had, until then, been sitting quietly on the desktop. A moment later another goblin entered the room, looking curiously at Harry and Hermione. He and Ragnok conversed rapidly in Gobbledegook - their native language - and the newer arrival’s eyes widened comically, before he left in a hurry.

“It is being seen to,” Ragnok told them, “Now, Mr Potter, I have some other business I’d like to discuss with you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Oh?”

“Yes,” Ragnok nodded, “We’ve been trying to contact you since June 1996, but all our owls have returned with their letters, and you have not, yourself, come here during that time.”

Harry swallowed. He had a feeling what it was about, now.

“As you have probably guessed, I am talking about your godfather, Sirius Orion Black’s Will. Since you were unable to attend the reading yourself, some bequeaths have not been carried out, in particular, the ones pertaining to yourself.” He paused, “You see, as your godfather was never formally convicted of any crime, he was still able to claim the title of Lord Black, although he never himself had the ring. Therefore, he was able to select who he wanted to succeed him. And, as he wrote in his will, you, Mr Potter, are the sole heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.”

“Sirius made me his heir?” Harry asked, trying, as he had only a few days previously, to prevent the tears from flowing.

“Indeed,” Ragnok nodded, "However, that poses a problem, because only someone of the direct bloodline can inherit the title."

"Oh," he responded, bowing his head in disappointment.

"That is easily remedied in this case, though."

"Huh?" Harry looked up, uncomprehending.

Ragnok smiled amusedly at his confusion, "Your Godfather knew this," he continued, "and so, when came to file his will with us, he also left instructions that you undergo a blood adoption ritual, with your consent, of course, and left a vial of his blood for it."

Harry's eyes widened, "Sirius wanted to adopt me?"

Ragnok nodded solemnly, "I believe he loved you very much, even if you did not get to spend too much time together."

It was then that Hermione spoke up, "But, I thought blood rituals were made illegal?"

“Normally they would be, yes,” the goblin agreed, “but a case such as this is an exception, because, of course, the so-called ‘pureblood’ community lives to bend the rules to their advantage,” he smirked mischievously, “You see, the law states that all rituals involving the sacrifice and/or consumption of blood are illegal. However, it also states that this does not include the Blood Adoption Ritual. This is because, when the law was written up after the war, many of the older families were left without an heir. So, they chose to blood-adopt children from lesser families to continue their bloodline. It’s still in place today.”

Hermione nodded in understanding.

Meanwhile, Harry was lost in his own thoughts. Sirius had really wanted to adopt him? He knew he'd loved Sirius, as he was the closest thing to a father he'd ever known, but to blood-adopt him? That was a big deal. What should he do?

'Well, it was what Sirius had wanted…'

“I'll do it,” Harry said, looking up from where he had been staring at the floor, his expression firm.

“Excellent!” Ragnok exclaimed, clapping his hands together and causing a surprised Hermione to jump in her seat, “Let’s get this over with then.”

He produced a glass vial from a drawer in his desk, filled with a crimson liquid that could only be blood.

“Before we go through with this, Mr Potter, I must warn you that your physical appearance might change as a result of the ritual to look more like your adoptive parent. Are you alright with that?”

Harry shrugged, “Honestly, I don't mind. With all that’s happened these past few days…”

“Right then,” he took another bottle from the drawer, “I am going to add a few drops of blood to the potion, which you’ll have to drink. You’ll probably fall unconscious for a short while afterwards as it settles, probably only from about fifteen minutes to an hour.”

Harry nodded and took the potion from him, looking at its deep crimson colour for a second before swallowing it in one mouthful. Hermione watched him anxiously as, a few moments later, his eyes began to droop. With Ragnok’s permission, she took out her wand and transfigured Harry’s chair into a sofa, making sure he was lying comfortably across it, placing his head on her lap and running her hands through his hair.

She watched with fascination as the changes began to take place.

The first thing that happened was that Harry’s hair, if possible, became even darker, and grew so that his bangs just touched his eyebrows. His facial structure also changed, his cheekbones and jaw becoming sharper. As she watched, Hermione couldn’t help but think that if he had been attractive before, he was even more so now. The girls would swoon at the sight of him.

She shook her head in amusement. Harry would not be pleased with the extra attention, but at least he would be less recognisable, especially without his glasses or scar.

After about half an hour, the doors to the office opened and the goblin from before came rushing in, a furious look on his face. He, again, spoke to Ragnok in Gobbledegook as Hermione watched with interest. He then left the room once more, and Ragnok turned to her.

“Well, Miss Granger, it appears that you and Mr Potter-Black were correct. There was indeed a dark artefact in Ms Lestrange’s vault. I only wish you’d told me exactly what sort. One of our curse-breakers was nearly killed due to the protections placed on the item.”

Hermione gasped, “Oh, I’m so sorry! Is he alright?”

The goblin nodded, “He will make a full recovery. However, it appears that whoever made that horcrux has created more. Do you know who it belongs to?”

She nodded, “It belongs to Tom Riddle, otherwise known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I will not say his other name, as I know there is a taboo on it.”

Ragnok’s eyes widened, “I see why it is so important. Well, in reward for alerting us to its presence, I’ll instruct those who removed it to create a sort of compass for you. It shall point you in the direction of the remaining ones, and alert you when you are nearby to one.”

Hermione looked surprised, “You can do that? And you know how to destroy them?”

“I presume you have another one you’d like removed?”

She nodded, and scratched around in her bag, from which she removed the locket. She and Harry had agreed it wasn’t safe to wear anymore, as it was affecting their emotions.

“I’ll ensure it’s done,” Ragnok told her, taking it from her hands. She nodded her thanks, feeling relieved.

At that moment, Harry himself began to stir, blinking his eyes open and sitting up slowly.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, anxiously, “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” he replied, “Just feeling a bit stiff.”

He stood up and stretched, shaking his arms out.

It was then that Hermione caught sight of his eyes and gasped.

They were no longer pure emerald, but instead had a band of bright silver around them that seemed to glow in the light.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “What?”

“Your eyes,” she said.

“What about them?”

“Uh, if you are done here?”

They whipped around to find Ragnok looking at them in amusement.

“Yes, sorry,” Harry replied, sheepishly, “What were you saying?”

“Well, now that the adoption has taken place, you are able to take on the role as Head of House Black. In order to do that you need to put on the ring,” he gestured to a small, velvet box sitting on his desk.

Harry took it slowly, and opened it, to reveal a silver ring with an onyx set in the middle. Carefully, he took it out and slipped it on the ring finger of his left hand. There was a sharp prick as it drew blood, testing to see whether he was really a Black. After a moment, it flashed silver, and settled to thrumming warmly.

Ragnok grinned at him, “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Lord Black.”

Suddenly, there was the sound of a commotion outside the doors, and they all stood, Harry and Hermione with their wands brandished in front of them, ready for an attack.

But, what came through the doors was not what they had expected.

…::-::…

After hours of apparating from place to place, James and Lily finally ended up in Diagon Alley, outside Gringotts. James’ wand was now pointing decisively forwards. Glancing at each other nervously, they walked inside and up to a teller.

“Excuse me?” James asked, “I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for Harry Potter, and I heard he was here.”

The goblin raised an eyebrow at him, “Gringotts is not in the habit of giving out the locations of our clients.”

“But if you were?”

The goblin sighed, and leaned forward, squeaking quietly, “I’m only telling you this because I believe you have good intentions. He’s in a meeting with Director Ragnok.”

Their eyes widened, “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” Lily cried, taking James by the hand and rushing off in the direction she knew the director’s office to be.

When they got to the doors, they were stopped by a pair of guards.

“You’re not allowed in. The director’s in a meeting.”

“Please, our son’s in there. We need to see him.”

“You’ll have to wait until he leaves. The director’s busy.”

Lily’s patience snapped, and her infamous temper reared its head.

“You’re not going to stop me from seeing my son!” she shouted, shoving past them with James following behind her as the doors slammed open.

They stopped, dead-still, in the doorway, taking in the sight before them.

Two people stood there, their expressions serious, wands pointed towards them. The boy, however, faltered when he saw them, his face becoming pale as shock took over.

Lily and James stared at him. It had to be him, he had to be Harry.

“Harry?” Lily whispered his name quietly, as if the very mention of it would make him disappear.

“Who are you?” he asked stiffly, his expression again hardening.

It couldn’t be them. It was a great likeness, from what he knew from the photos, although older, excellent even, but impossible.

Harry’s parents were dead. Had been for 16 years.

And there’s no way for a person to return from the dead.

“Harry? It’s us. James and Lily, your parents?” The man said, desperation beginning to creep into his voice.

“My parents are dead,” he said coolly, “You can’t be them.”

“I know!” Lily cried, tears running down her cheeks, “I know! We don’t understand either! We woke up in our graves this morning, our graves! And we didn’t know what was happening. We went to our house and it was all blown up!”

“Wait, wait,” Harry interrupted, frowning, “What time did you say you woke up?”

“Earlier this morning,” James replied.

“What time?”

“Uh, about five hours ago? I’m not sure what the time is now so I couldn’t tell you…”

Hermione gasped quietly and leaned closer to Harry, whispering into his ear, “That’s roughly the time you woke up.”

“A coincidence maybe?”

She shook her head, “I don’t think so. Remember the weird thing that happened in the graveyard? What are the chances of these two people, looking very much like your parents, reawakening at the same time you did?  Highly unlikely.”

He nodded in agreement, swallowing hard. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. His parents, his family were, after all, his heart’s desire.

What if it wasn’t really them?

Harry didn’t think he could cope with that.

He cleared his throat, and spoke to Ragnok behind him, not turning around, “Do you have some way to prove a person’s identity?”

“A simple blood test should do the trick,” he replied, and walked forward, brandishing a knife and two sheets of parchment.

“If you could let 3 drops of blood fall onto the parchment, I think that should be enough proof.”

They nodded, and pricked their fingers in turn, letting the required blood fall onto the parchment. It flashed white for a moment, before black writing began to appear, showing their identities.

Harry looked them over carefully, not truly wanting to see, for fear that it was all a lie, but felt weak at the knees when he saw what was written.

James Fleamont Potter

Lily Louise Potter neé Evans

He looked up at them, not really daring to believe, even when the proof was right in front of him, and they smiled, with tears in their eyes, as their patience ran out. They stepped forward briskly, moving in unison towards him, and before he knew it, Harry was wrapped in their warm embrace and he revelled in it, finally feeling whole at last.

Hermione looked on silently, grinning with tears in her eyes as she watched the reunion of her best friend and his parents. It was a wonderful thing to see, and you could practically feel the happiness in the room, even in those dark times.

Eventually, they separated slightly, and the two parents took a step back so they could see how their son had changed. Lily reached up a hand and stroked his cheek, and Harry leaned into it, looking into his mother’s eyes for the first time he could remember, as his father draped an arm over his shoulder.

Lily smiled sadly, “My baby’s all grown up.”

Harry chuckled, “It happens.”

“So,” James said, grinning, mischief sparkling in his eyes “What house are you in?”

His son raised an eyebrow, smiling, “Does it matter?”

“No…?”

Harry rolled his eyes at the obvious lie, “Gryffindor.”

“Ah ha!” James cried, “I knew it!”

“That poses another question,” Lily said, still smiling slightly at her husband’s childish antics, “Why aren’t you at Hogwarts now? It’s the school term, isn’t it?”

“It’s because You-Know-Who is back,” Hermione replied, stepping into their conversation, “He returned almost three years ago, at the end of June.”

Lily and James gasped, “He returned? But how?”

“Have you ever heard of horcruxes?”

James grimaced, “I’ve heard of the things, yes, but I’d never thought someone would actually be insane enough to make one.”

“Not just one,” Harry said, “Several. We recon about six of them, three of which we still have to find and destroy. Coupled with the fact that You-Know-Who’s taken over Hogwarts, well, we thought it would be more productive to go Horcrux-Hunting than spend the time being tortured.”

“And I suppose he’s after you? After what happened that night?”

He nodded, “Has been ever since first year. We’ve never had a normal year at Hogwarts.”

“We?” James asked.

“Ron, Hermione and I,” he explained, gesturing to Hermione who stood next to him. She smiled shyly.

James and Lily looked between the two of them, between each other, sensing that there was a lot they had missed, and said;

“Tell us everything.”

…::-::…

Ragnok showed them to a private meeting room, before leaving them alone to catch up. Once they were settled, Harry took a deep breath and began his tale.

He told them about his whole life, from that cold November morning when a baby was left on a doorstep with nothing but a letter to explain what had happened.

He continued with the ten years following, deciding that details weren’t needed for the moment. There was plenty of time for revenge later, when their current problems were over. That didn’t stop Lily from crying in outrage when she learnt that her son had been left with her magic-hating sister.

He went on to the arrival of his letter, of the influx of owls and the retreat to the house on the rocks. He spoke of his rescue by Hagrid, and his first experience with the magical world.

He spoke of his first year, his second year, his third, his fourth, his fifth and his sixth, pausing in between for tears and hugs of comfort.

It was amazing, Harry thought, after all that time, all that longing and wishing, that his parents were there, comforting him. It was quite surreal.

They sat in silence for a while, the four of them, quietly going over all that had been said, all they had learnt.

Lily frowned, realising something, before speaking up, “You said Sirius went through the veil? The one at the Department of Mysteries?”

Harry nodded sadly.

Lily smiled at him, “Then he’s not dead.”

Both Harry and James exclaimed, “What?!”

“He’s not dead,” she shook her head, “I used to be an Unspeakable for the Department. The veil doesn’t kill anyone; it sends them to an alternate dimension.”

“You mean we can bring him back?” Hermione asked, catching on quickly.

“There’s a ritual for it,” Lily smiled, “Come on, I’ll show you.”

…::-::…

The next day, back at Grimmauld Place, James, Lily, Harry and Hermione stood in a circle, in a stone ritual room that had been hidden away in the basement. They each brandished a silver knife, poised above their hands, with serious looks on their face. Without words, Lily nodded to Harry, giving him the signal to begin.

He started chanting, as they all cut open their palms, letting the blood flow onto the stone floor beneath them, into the channels carved into it. They closed their eyes as a glow surrounded them and Harry continued to chant, before there was another bright flash, and a thud as something hit the floor. They kept their eyes closed as the chant wound down and the glow disappeared, before both tapered off all together. They waited a moment, the room filled only with the sound of their breathing, before simultaneously opening their eyes.

Sirius lay on the floor before them, unconscious and looking a little worse-for-wear, but alive. Immediately, they all rushed over to his side, checking him over for any injuries. It was at this point that Sirius woke up.

He blinked a couple of times, to find Harry’s anxious face only a few inches away from him. Sirius yelped in surprise, and sat up suddenly, knocking his forehead into Harry’s. They both cried out, and began rubbing their injuries.

“Jeez, Sirius, what kind of greeting do you call that?” Harry mumbled, good-naturedly.

Sirius looked up at him, “Harry?”

Harry smirked, rolling his eyes, “Hello, Sirius.”

“Harry!” Without warning, he launched himself onto his godson, wrapping his arms around him, “I’m so glad you’re alright. All I remember is going through that veil, and then just… nothing.” He shuddered at the memory.

Just then, James spoke up, “You know, Padfoot, I’m offended, truly. I come back from the dead to find my best mate in another dimension, so I bring him back and all he has eyes for is my son.”

Sirius turned sharply, and his face paled when he caught sight of both James and Lily standing there.

“How - how are you…?”

James shook his head, and wrapped his arm over Sirius’ shoulder, as Lily wrapped him in a hug.

“We’re not sure,” he replied, “Just woke up a few days ago.”

“How long have I been gone?”

“It would have been would two years next June,” Harry responded, as Hermione came to stand beside him

His adoptive father blinked at him. “Two years?”

They all nodded. The room was filled with silence for a bit.

Then Sirius looked up, “So, what’d I miss?”

…::-::…

They spent the next few hours catching Sirius up on recent events, with mostly Harry and Hermione speaking as they had lived through most of it. He had happily let Harry keep the Black lordship, claiming he had “never wanted the damn thing anyway” and had expressed shock and amusement when he found out that Remus and Tonks had gotten married and were expecting.

“Glad those two finally tied the knot,” he commented with a smirk, “Surprised it took them so long, actually.”

Lily spoke up, “Speaking of Remus, where is he?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m not sure He’s moving around I think.”

“How do we find him?”

“How did you find Harry?” Hermione asked, eyebrow raised, “I’m sure that would work.”                                                                                                                                                                                            

They all. Looked at each other.

“Alright, let’s go find Remus.”

…::-::…

Remus sighed, leaning back into the sofa and wrapping his arm around his dozing wife, who sat with her head resting on his shoulder. It was peaceful there, in their secluded cottage hidden away in the English countryside, but he knew that war raged elsewhere.

The werewolf’s peace, however, was disturbed when there was a quiet knock on his front door. HE was immediately on alert, drawing his wand and standing up, disturbing Tonks in the process.

“What’s going on?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Shh…” Remus whispered, and pointed towards the door. She got the message, and stood up, ensuring her wand was firmly in her grasp and together they crept towards the door.

They each stood on one side, Remus on the left and Tonks on the right. They nodded to each other, before they pulled it open sharply, aiming their wands at the awaiting visitors.

…::-::…

Lily, James, Sirius, Harry and Hermione apparated about 500m away from the cottage where, they assumed, Remus lived. They had come up with a game plan earlier; Harry and Hermione would knock while James, Lily and Sirius would stay out of sight until Harry called them, as it was unlikely that Remus would just believe that his best friends had come back from the dead. They knew he would probably ask a few questions for security, which they were well prepared for.

Once Harry and Hermione reached the door, the adults hid to the side, and Hermione knocked softly.

They waited, straining their ears for sounds of movement from inside. They heard a few mumbles at one point, and then only silence, but they continued to stand on the doorstep.

Suddenly, the door was flung open, and the teens found two wands pointed in their faces, one belonging to a blue-haired witch, and the other to a tall man - Tonks and Remus.

Harry smiled, awkwardly, “Hi guys,” he greeted, “Mind if we come in?”

The wands remained pointed at them.

“What spell did I teach you in your third year?” Remus asked.

“The patronus charm,” he replied, before asking his own question, “What form does mine take?”

“A stag,” Remus replied, “like James’ animagus form.”

The wands were lowered, and Remus stepped forwards, pulling Harry into a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, and Harry smiled at him.

They turned to see Hermione getting a similar greeting from Tonks.

“Why don’t you come inside?”

“Err…” Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Um, well, you see, we brought some other people with us.”

Remus looked around him, “Then where are they?”

“We thought it would be better if you confirmed our identities first,” Hermione explained, “We can assure you that they are really who they say they are. We’ve checked.”

Tonks rolled her eyes, “Stop talking in riddles, just tell them that they can come out now!”

She shouted the last bit of her sentence, and a few moments later, James, Lily and Sirius emerged from where they had been hiding. Remus went into shock when he saw them, and Tonks’ jaw dropped open.

“Sirius?” she asked.

He grinned, “Hello, Nymphadora.”

She glared at him, “Don’t call me Nymphadora!”

“Then what?” he snarked back, “Shall I call you Mrs Lupin instead?”

Tonks blushed, “Oh, shut up,” she wrapped him in a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

Meanwhile, Remus was still staring at James and Lily.

“What - how?”

Lily shook her head, “We don’t know, but it really is us.”

James nodded, smirking, “Harry made us take a blood test at Gringotts to prove it.”

Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

Remus smiled at him, stepping forwards and hugging him, “It’s good to see you, Prongs.”

James smiled, “You too, Moony.”

…::-::…

Once everyone was inside, they recapped, for what seemed like the millionth time, what had happened. With the goblins having decided to get rid of the horcruxes themselves, it freed them up to decide on how to finish Voldemort once and for all.

“I say we go in at night,” Sirius suggested, “Snake-face has to sleep sometime, doesn’t he? Plus, most of his little friends will be at home by then, making it easier to sneak inside.”

“But how are we going to find him?”

“That ‘Point-Me’ spell seemed to work really well,” Lily said, “You know, I’m surprised no one’s thought of warding themselves against it. It’s always the simple things that one forgets.”

Harry nodded, “Sounds like a plan. But, how are we actually going to… you know…”

He made the gesture of strangling someone with his hands.

Hermione frowned, “Well, there’s always the muggle methods.”

James raised an eyebrow, “Do you mean gums?”

Tonks, Harry, Hermione and Remus all rolled their eyes.

Lily smacked him over the head, “They’re called guns, James, honestly.”

Sirius smirked, “Well, whatever they’re called, I think it sounds like a good idea. After all, what’s better than killing him with something created by the people he’s trying to exterminate?”

“But where are we going to get guns from?” Tonks asked, “You’re not exactly going to find them lying around, and to buy one you need a licence.”

Lily smirked, “I know a guy…”

…::-::…

“How come you never told me your dad was in the army?” James whined, putting on his best puppy-eyes, “I could have talked to him about pranking strategies!”

Lily laughed, “It never came up, James. Besides, I wasn’t even sure if you knew what the army was.”

He glared at her, “I’m not ignorant, you know, however much you believe me to be.”

The couple were by themselves, walking up the street towards their destination. They had been tasked with getting the guns they needed while the others began looking for Voldemort’s hideout, so that they could observe it for a few days before launching their attack.

Lily shook her head at him, “I know, James, I’m just teasing you. Besides, I know your childishness is all an act. There has to be a real man in there somewhere.”

“Hey!” he cried, grinning, “That was a low blow, Lils. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She laughed, “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Soon enough, they came across a red-bricked house at the end of the street. It was large, with a bright red front door and shiny lion-shaped gold knocker.

Together, the pair walked up the steps to the door. Glancing at James briefly, Lily lifted her hand and grasped the knocker, rapping it soundly against the wood.

They waited a few moments in silence. James wrung his hands nervously. Lily hadn’t exactly told him who they had come to see, just that he had been a friend of her father’s from when he was in the army. Apparently she hadn't seen him since about the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts.

They didn’t wait long. A few moments later, the door swung open, revealing a tall, dark-skinned man with broad shoulders and dark brown eyes. He gave James a sweeping glance before turning to Lily, and his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Lily-Flower!” He cried, grinning, sweeping her up in a hug, “It’s been, what? Twenty years since I last saw you?”

Lily laughed, “Twenty-two, Uncle Archie. Sorry for not coming sooner, but I’ve been rather… busy.”

He smiled, “Don’t apologise, I know how it goes.” He turned to James, “And who might you be?”

James gulped, sensing that the friendly looking man was certainly capable of hurting him if he wanted to.

“James Potter,” he replied, extending his hand for the man to shake, “Lily’s husband.”

Uncle Archie’s eyes widened, as he shook James’ hand, “Pleasure to meet you. You wouldn’t have happened to have gone to school with Lily, did you?”

James raised an eyebrow, “I did, actually. Why?”

The man chuckled, "Lily used to come home every summer complaining about the "childish Potter prat". I never thought she'd actually end up marrying him.

James grinned, and glanced at his wife, who was blushing, "I'm glad to know I was always on your mind, Lils."

She smacked him over the head playfully.

Archie shook his head at them, smiling, "Now, what did you really come here for?"

Both of their faces turned serious, "We came to ask a favour," Lily said, "We need guns."

…::-::...

Harry growled frustratedly. The wand that lay flat on his palm was changing direction erratically, and not being terribly helpful at all. Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we should wait until all the horcruxes are destroyed," he said, "The spell’s getting confused because 'Tom Riddle' has been split so many times."

Harry sighed, "You're probably right, but I just want it to be over with, you know? All my life he's been after me, but now that we've almost got him it's like we just can't quite get there."

Remus, who had strolled up behind them, nodded sagely, "I know what you mean Harry, but it shouldn't be long now. Just a few more days and then it will finally be over."

They stared out into the distance for a while, looking out over the misty hills that surrounded them, each deep within their thoughts.

"What's all this then?” came a grinning voice from behind them, startling them out of their reverie, "A sickle for your thoughts?"

Tonks was smirking at them, hands on her hips.

Harry rolled his eyes, "The spell’s not working," he explained, "I think the horcruxes are messing with it."

Sirius gasped.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, "That's what I said! Don't take all the credit for yourself, little Harrykins."

He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and began ruffling his hair.

Harry pushed him away playfully, "Shove off! I'm taller than you are!"

Remus simply shook his head at them and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation while Tonks sniggered.

It was then that Harry realised someone was missing.

"Where's Hermione?"

Tonks snorted, "Inside, reading. Where else?"

He went inside to find the missing bookworm and she was, indeed, as usual, curled up on the couch with a book.

She looked up as he came in, "How'd it go?"

Harry shook his head, "The horcruxes are confusing the spell. We'll have to wait 'till they're destroyed. It's just pointing everywhere."

He plopped himself down beside her. Hermione shifted so that her head rested on his shoulder, and looked up at him, "How much longer is this going to go on for?"

"It depends, but I'm hoping he'll be gone by the end of the week."

They both stared at nothing for a minute or so, before Harry spoke up again, "What would I do without you, 'Mione?"

She looked up at him, frowning, "What do you mean?"

"I mean just that," he replied, looking firmly into her chocolate brown eyes, his thoughts and feelings from the past few weeks suddenly coming together to form a clear image in his mind, "You're always there for me when I need you, Hermione. You've stuck with me through thick and thin, no matter what life threw at me. You were there for me in second year when the whole school thought I was Slytherin's heir, you helped me rescue Sirius, you were there for me when Ron abandoned me, and helped me survive the tournament. You were with me at the Ministry in fifth year, and you're here with me now." He smiled gently at her, "The few times we've argued, it's been because you were concerned for me, and I was just too dense to see it. I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will. I just want you to know that."

A deafening silence filled the room at his profound declaration.

Hermione was shocked. Harry loved her? She knew she loved him - she had ever since he'd saved her from that awful troll. She could see it now, every memory laid out before her with perfect clarity, and using the brilliant mind she was so well known for, she put the image together.

"You - you love me?"

Harry looked up at her again, seeing the intense emotion in her eyes and nodded slowly, timidly. He was afraid that she didn't feel the same way about him, and that he had ruined their friendship by telling her how he felt.

But then Hermione smiled, and all thoughts of rejection melted from his mind like ice on a summer's day. Slowly, their heads moved together until they were less than an inch apart, and gazed into each other's eyes.

"I love you too, Harry," she whispered, her voice nothing but a puff of warm air, as their lips met in long-awaited passion, and their eyes fluttered closed.

They were so tangled-up in one another, in fact, that they failed to notice the five adults who had come to stand in the doorway with huge grins on their faces.

“Well, well, well, what’s going on here?”

The two teens were startled, separating abruptly and blushing.

“It’s about time if you ask me,” Sirius commented, “I’ve been waiting for you two to get it together since your third year.”

Lily smiled at them, “Come on, lunch is ready and we’ve got some guns to look at.

…::-::…

A day later, deep in the bowels of Gringotts, a goblin warrior let out an archaic growl as he swung his sword downwards, lobbing off the head of the huge snake that was Nagini.

He retreated swiftly as a black, vaporous shadow emerged from the beast, a terrible screech filling the air as Voldemort’s final horcrux was destroyed. Now, all that was left was to kill the monster himself.

He left the room shakily, heading upstairs to inform the director of the completion of his mission. He had done his part. Now it was time for Harry Potter to take the lead.

…::-::…

The Marauders, including the newly-inducted Harry, Hermione, Lily and Tonks, spent the next few days coming up with battle plans and learning how to work the guns.

Harry, Hermione and Lily knew a little of how they worked from watching TV, but the others knew absolutely nothing other than that they could kill you. And while everyone had pretty good aim from having used a wand, they needed some practice, so they set up some targets in the clearing behind Remus’ cottage and got to work.

Surprisingly, the best out of all of them was Hermione, With Harry and then Lily following. James, Tonks and Remus managed to, at least, hit the target, but Sirius more often than not ended up hitting the trees located behind them. It frustrated the dog-animagus immensely and was a source of endless amusement for the rest of them.

Eventually, after a few days of practise, they had finally got it down, and began to put their plan into action.

They had got a message from Ragnok, telling them that the final horcrux had been destroyed. This meant that they could now use the point-me spell without any interference.

They tracked the elusive Dark Lord to the old Riddle Manor where, Harry realised with a shiver, he had once killed his own father.

They scouted the place out, looking for weaknesses in the wards and security, before coming up with their plan.

…::-::…

On the night of January 12th 1998, a few dark shadows could be seen darting across the gravel path that led up to Riddle Manor. The only sounds that could be heard were the whistling of the wind and the rustle of leaves and they shifted quietly underfoot.

With a nod, they left Tonks at the bottom of the drive to act as lookout, knowing that that was the Death Eaters’ apparition point.

The rest crept inside the building, knowing that in his self-confidence, Voldemort hadn’t thought to lock anything.

The moonlight filtered in through the windows, casting shadows and highlighting Harry’s emerald eyes as he gestured to the stairs. They all nodded in response, knowing how important the night was, how important that they got their task done without being seen.

They left Remus at the bottom of the stairs as they continued upwards, and turned a corner, coming to a set of dark, mahogany doors.

This was it.

They glanced at each other, looks of determination on their faces, and began to cast spells at the doors, specifically ones that made them indestructible, and a spell that locked it in such a way that two people were needed to unlock it - one from each side.

Finally, they steeled themselves, and Harry slowly opened the door as he, Hermione, James and Lily entered, leaving Sirius outside to guard.

As soon as the door was closed, their eyes fell onto a dark shape seated on a bone-white throne across from them.

Lord Voldemort had always been something less than human, but in that moment, he looked even more so.

His grey skin was pulled tight across his bones, making him look skeletal, and his chest was falling and rising very slowly as he could be heard wheezing, struggling to breathe.

Harry took the first step forward, wand in hand, knowing that this was it, that was the end of all the pain, all the suffering he had been put through.

His family stood a few steps behind him, faces pale as they watched, knowing that it had to be him, it had to end that way, and swallowed their fears.

When Harry was only about five paces away, Voldemort’s eyes opened slowly, and caught sight of him in the darkness.

“Harry Potter,” he rasped, his voice barely audible in the dead silence, “Come to face me at last have you?”

Harry glared at him, “I’ve come to end you.”

The Dark Lord chuckled, “I’m afraid that is impossible, for I have found the way to immortality, Harry Potter. You shall never end me.”

“Oh, really?” Harry countered, “Then why is it that you look as bad as you do, Tom? That you’re sitting here, alone in the darkness, hanging onto life with one wheezed breath after another? I’ll tell you why - the diary, the ring, the locket, the diadem, the cup and the snake, Tom. All of them have been destroyed, and nothing’s going to save you now.”

Harry’s parents and Hermione watched as Voldemort’s face turned even paler, becoming just as white as the throne he sat on, and Harry’s triumphant smirk glinted in the darkness.

“It’s over, Riddle, you’re dead, and the prophecy you tried so hard to prevent has come true.”

He drew his gun from the holster under his arm, and aimed it steadily at the Dark Lord’s head.

“This is revenge, Tom,” he said, “Revenge for all of those you killed or hurt on your quest for power. It’s over now, and you’re not going to hurt anyone again.”

With that, he levelled the gun, and pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed in the empty room, rebounding off the walls with finality, as the lifeless form of Tom Riddle slumped in his throne, never to get up again.

Harry was breathing heavily, looking shocked, and he fell to his knees. Immediately, Hermione and his parents rushed to his side, supporting him and helping him stand up.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him.

“You did it, Harry,” she whispered, “He’s gone, he’s not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

“I killed him,” Harry replied, face stricken, “I killed someone.”

“You knew you would have to,” Lily said, her hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve killed one person to prevent the deaths of thousands,” James added, “You're a good person, Harry. A great one even. What you did has saved thousands of lives, so don't you dare feel guilty about killing that monster.”

Harry nodded, smiling slightly, “Alright,” he said, “Alright. Let’s just go home.”

They walked over to the doors and asked Sirius to open them. Once they were through, they made their way back down the stairs and to the drive, picking up Remus and Tonks along the way, before disapparating home.

…::-::…

They were busy over the next few weeks, using the taboo still placed on Voldemort’s name to ambush the Death Eaters. Once they were captured, they were each administered the Draught of Living Death, ensuring they wouldn’t escape until the ministry had been put to rights and they could go to trial.

Finally, Britain was free of the terror that had plagued it for so long. Now it was time for the world to know how it had been done.

…::-::…

Kingsley Shacklebolt had a problem on his hands. Well, not really a problem persay, but more of a mystery.

Voldemort seemed to have dropped completely off the map, and all the Death Eaters had disappeared, including the ones that had been working at the Ministry and Hogwarts.

And no one had a clue how it had happened.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were still missing, as were Remus and Tonks Lupin. Ron Weasley had returned home two months ago, and had been tight lipped about the location and wellbeing of his friends. He had been grouchy ever since.

Kingsley had been made Interim Minister of Magic when Pius Thicknessse resigned, leaving him to sort out all the problems that had arisen.

So, it was a great shock when, one morning, a month after he had been made Minister, he got an urgent fire-call from Molly Weasley telling him that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had come to the Burrow.

…::-::…

Harry and Hermione, after long late night discussions, had decided to pay a visit to one Ronald Weasley, and let him know exactly what they thought of his abandonment.

They decided to go one morning, when it was most likely that he would be there.

They apparated at the bottom of the drive, and walked up it slowly, holding hands.

Eventually, they reached the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

A moment later, it was opened, to reveal Molly Weasley’s shocked face.

“Harry, Hermione!” she cried, pulling them inside, “Oh thank Merlin you’re alright. We’ve been worried sick about you! Where have you been?”

“There’s a lot we have to tell you,” Harry said, “For now, we’d like to have a chat with Ron.”

Molly clearly missed the cool tone in his voice, “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.” She turned towards the stairs and shouted, “Ron, dear, Harry and Hermione are here to see you!”

There was a thump from somewhere above them.

Mrs Weasley smiled at them, “I’m sure he’ll be down shortly. Ginny and the twins are at the shop, and Arthur’s at work, so he offered to stay at home with me. That doesn't, however, mean he’ll get up early.”

She shook her head and left them waiting for Ron in the sitting room.

He appeared a few moments later, looking strained, but healthy and well-fed.

The sight was enough to make Hermione lose control of her temper.

She stalked forward like a cat on the prowl, eyes blazing, and slapped the red-head across the face.

“You’re a complete arse, Ronald Weasley!” she shouted, enjoying the look of pained shock she received as he held his burning cheek, “How dare you just abandon us in the middle of nowhere like that! We needed you, Ron, and you left us to fend for ourselves simply because you missed your mother’s cooking?!”

Ron looked to Harry for help, but paled dramatically when he found none, instead seeing the same righteous fury on his friend’s face.

“We trusted you,” Harry said, menacingly, stepping forwards so that he was right in Ron’s face, towering over him, “I trusted you to help me when I needed it, but that was a mistake. Every time I needed your support you weren’t there for me, leaving Hermione and I to fend for ourselves until you came crawling back looking for forgiveness. Well, that won’t happen this time. This time, it’s over, Ron. You’ve used all the chances you had.”

Harry paused and turned away, taking a few steps before looking back, “You were like a brother to me, Ron,” he said, his voice quieter, but no less impactful, “I trusted you with my life, and you let me down. We’re through.”

And with that he turned and left the room, Hermione following, leaving a stunned and guilty Ron Weasley behind them.

They found Mrs Weasley waiting outside for them, her jaw dropped open, “Did he really abandon you like that?” Harry nodded sagely, eyes still blazing.

“He did,” Hermione replied, voice stiff.

Molly’s jaw snapped shut, “How dare he! I’m going to have a talk with him. Telling me you got “separated”. Humph!”

She marched into the room they had just vacated and slammed the door behind her. Harry and Hermione carefully backed away, weary of her ferocious temper.

It was then that Kingsley, having received Mrs Weasley’s message, appeared through the fireplace.

“Harry, Hermione! Where have you been?”

The couple looked at each other and sighed. This was going to take longer than they’d thought.

…::-::…

It took over five hours for Harry and Hermione to explain all that had happened to them.

By the time they fished, they were both exhausted, and Kingsley was in complete shock.

“Let me get this straight: You’ve been on the run because you were looking for objects that held pieces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s soul. You found one, Ron abandoned you, you went to your parents’ graves and there was a freak storm that somehow made them come back from the dead. Am I right so far?”

They nodded.

Kingsley continued, “You went to Gringotts where you got help from the goblins, and Harry became Lord Black through blood adoption. Then your parents came bursting through the doors, and you had them take a blood test to prove their identity, which came out positive. After explaining to them what they had missed, you discovered that Sirius wasn’t actually dead, and you brought him back too. Then you went to find Remus and Tonks, came up with a plan to defeat Voldemort and somehow acquired some guns. You two then finally got together, killed Voldemort a few nights later, and have spent the last month or so capturing the remaining Death Eaters?!”

“Sounds about right,” Harry shrugged.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Hermione spoke up, “The question is - what happens next?”

…::-::…

Six months later, things had finally begun to settle down.

James, Sirius and Lily, after officially being announced alive and Sirius being acquitted, returned to the jobs they had had prior to October 1981. They, along with Harry and Hermione, had moved into Grimmauld place and began to spruce it up - starting with the removal of Walburga’s horrid painting.

A few weeks after that, Harry and Hermione flew to Australia to find her parents. Hermione, being who she was, had put tracking spells on them, so they were easy to locate.

When their memories were restored, her parents were furious at her for what she had done, but calmed down when she explained exactly why she had. After that, she introduced Harry to them as her boyfriend, and they happily welcomed him to their family.

On their return to England, Hermione and Harry talked long and hard about whether or not to return to Hogwarts. Due to the disruptive year, the rest of the year had been cancelled, with it due to being repeated from September 1st. They decided to complete their final year. However, there were still a few months to go and so, with encouragement from their parents, they decided to take a trip around Europe.

To Harry, who had spent his childhood locked in a cupboard, the trip was wonderful. They went to Germany, Poland, Spain, Italy, Greece and France, where, while in Paris, Harry proposed to Hermione in front of the Eiffel Tower. They planned to marry after they graduated.

…::-::…

On September 1st 1998, Harry, Hermione, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, baby Teddy, Dan and Emma Granger arrived at Kings Cross to board the Hogwarts express. Harry and Hermione had been made Head Boy and Girl, and were expected to arrive early to oversee everyone’s arrival.

For Harry, it was a strange experience to have someone come to send him off, and even more so to have many people he would miss. Luckily, students that were of age were allowed to leave the castle over weekends, so he would be able to visit.

Another strange thing for both him and Hermione was the absence of Ron. They still hadn’t made up with the red head, and with the way he had betrayed them, they didn’t particularly want to. They were still on good terms with the rest of the Weasleys, however.

It was a teary goodbye that took place on Platform 9¾. Many hugs were shared and well wishes given as the two teens boarded the express, badges pinned to their robes as they lugged their trunks behind them.

They hung out the windows and waved furiously as the train pulled away, heading on into their last year at Hogwarts.

As they settled down in their usual compartment, smiling and laughing with Neville, Luna and Ginny, Harry thought about all that had changed that last year, and wondered vaguely what his life would have been like had he not been to his parents’ graves that Christmas Eve.

He guessed he’d never know, but he knew he was grateful he had.

The End