Thank you all so much for you reviews and everthing. I hope you like this last chapter. It's always sad, submitting the last chapter. It means that in a matter of minutes you will forget that this story ever existed. Do me a favor and tell people about this fanfic. I owe y'all.
Because many many people have asked, yes I am working on a sequel. I have actually entered the first two chapters, but decided I'm going to wait till I finish a couple more and submit them in succession, so you won't have very long to wait between each chapter. This story is called "A New Beginning" and you can probably find it easiest in my profile. Thanks!
A NEW BEGINNING
Harry woke.
Cracks. In the ceiling. Branches. A tree. It’s branches reaching out. Welcoming. Like an embrace. The embrace of a loved one. A loved one that’s gone.
Luna.
“Luna...”
“Harry...”
Harry turned his head towards the voice.
Illuminated by the florescent lights, her eyes shining, but her face soft, sat Hermione.
They stared at each other.
Looking.
Gazing.
He couldn’t look any longer. He broke the gaze, skimming his eyes around the room.
He was in a hospital room. St. Mungos. The walls were a pale gray. The window looked out into a gray sky, the same color of the walls. All was gray. Dreary. Depressing.
Harry sensed movement at the doorway. He turned, and there stood Dumbledore.
“Ah...you have awaken,” Dumbledore said softly. “Good...how do you feel?”
Harry thought for a moment.
“Tired,” he replied. “And hungry.”
Dumbledore smiled.
“Good,” he said. “Hermione”“ She looked up. “”would you please fetch something for Harry to eat? “
Hermione nodded silently, stood, and left the room. Dumbledore shut the door behind her, then seated himself in Hermione’s previously occupied chair to Harry’s left.
“How are you really feeling, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, a glint of concern in his sky blue eyes.
Harry breathed in slowly, and sighed.
“Confused, I suppose,” he said. “And lonely. Like there’s no one else anywhere who could feel the way I do.”
Dumbledore nodded, a pensive but calm expression on his wizen face.
“Draco Malfoy is dead, Harry,” he said slowly.
Harry sighed again.
“I supposed as much. But”“
“How?” Dumbledore finished. “By a power only known to few, and only used by fewer.”
“The white light...”
“Yes, that power.”
“But what is it?” Harry asked, sitting up slowly.
Dumbledore paused and stared into Harry’s eyes, as though reading his very thoughts.
“Love, Harry. Love,” Dumbledore said very quietly. “It will be and always has been love, Harry. From the day your mother died for you, you have had the power to control it. And today...you channeled it in a way I never knew possible.”
“How?”
“Malfoy made a terrible mistake, Harry. He used a curse that would cause you to hear the voice of a loved one that is gone or dead. In doing that, he caused you to bring forth the strongest power a person, wizard or muggle, could ever possess.”
“Love,” Harry whispered. “Luna...”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled and a solitary tear slid down his face.
“You, again, have achieved the impossible, Harry,” he said, his voice throaty. “But this time you displayed a power that is a good deal beyond any power I could ever fathom possessing. Harry...” Dumbledore gazed down solemnly on him. “Harry, you truly are the greater wizard here.”
Harry’s eyes began to well. The room became blurry as his eyes began to sting with tears. He felt that he was crying from his very heart. He let the tears flow; the held back tears that had burned inside of him ever since Luna’s death.
Dumbledore, still by his side and respectfully silent, bowed his head and closed his eyes, his face showing the weariness of many, many years.
Epilogue
A Farewell
My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray:
Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I’ll leave you
For every day.
I’ll tell you how to sing a clearer carol
Than lark who hails the dawn on breezy down:
To earn yourself a purer poet’s laurel
Than Shakespeare’s crown.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long:
And so make Life, Death, and the vast For Ever
One grand sweet song.
Charles Kingsley
The processional music began to play, a sense of supreme joy in the perfumed air. Harry stood and looked into the faces of all the people he loved and knew. There was Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling behind those half moon spectacles. Standing next to him, Professor McGonagall, her usually tidy gray hair in wisps around her teary eyes. Lupin with his placid and encouraging face. Kingsey, Tonks, and the whole Auror gang. Snape and Rita. Neville and Ginny. Hermione, her face soft and her son, a red haired youth, standing next to her. Arthur Weasley and Molly, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Fred and Angelina, and forever single George all stood beaming at him.
A jerk at Harry’s arm brought his attention to the beautiful young woman at his side. Her long blonde hair, almost white, was piled on top of her head in ringlets, her emerald green eyes nervously anxious.
“Come on Daddy,” she whispered. Together they stepped down the aisle, Lily’s beautiful white gown sweeping elegantly along the marble floor. She clutched her father’s arm with white-gloved hands. Harry gazed at her, an undying love in his eyes.
Too quickly they reached the end, and the music stopped. Father and daughter still stood together. Then Lily leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Daddy, sometimes you just have to let go.” Harry leaned down and kissed his precious daughter on the cheek, a lone tear running down his face.
Yes. He could let go. He had before.
(Final) Reviewism of the Day
Harry Potter:
"I don't normally go looking for REVIEWS. REVIEWS normally find me."
Remember the sequel!!!!
Farewell.