In an interview in 2005, J.K. Rowling confirmed that, as of that time, the last word in the final Harry Potter book was “scar”. How do you imagine the final page of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will look? Write your own ending for the book and share it with us! The only requirements: Please write one to three paragraphs max, and the last word of your entry must be “scar”.
UPDATE: The Last Word is No Longer Scar!
Friday night (7/6/07) on the Jonathan Ross show on the BBC, J.K. was asked if “scar” still the last word in the book, as had been reported, and she said, “Scar? It was for ages, and now it’s not. Scar is quite near the end, but it’s not the last word.” So, please continue with our three paragraph fantasy endings, but you no longer have to make “scar” the last word if you don’t want…
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Looking back, Harry still couldn’t believe every thing that happened in the last year. So much had changed. Bill was married to Fluer. He’d finally found the real truth about why his mother had married his father, and amazingly, he took Snape’s side in the whole matter and actually felt sorry for him.
There were so many friends he’d never see again. They all died so bravely, and their families were so proud, but that doesn’t make missing them any easier. But, like Dumbledore said, sometimes we must chose between what is easy, and what is right.
And it was right that Voldemort was finally gone. Or was he? All of a sudden, Harry felt a twinge in his scar…
and harry smiled, knowing he had conquered voldemort once and for all. he pushed his hair off his forehead and was a bit disturbed by the dissappearance of his scar.
As everyone in the wizarding community looked on at Harry’s funeral, Hermione couldn’t help but to look at Harry’s forehead. She was sure the battle was over, because Harry no longer had the scar.
The wind had hardly stirred on the day of the funeral. It seemed that it too was in mourning. The atmosphere of the crowd was very subdued, as mourners gathered to say goodbye to those valient heroes who had vanquished the Dark Lord. Among the crowd sat Hermione, hysterical with tears. Her moans were the only sounds to be heard from miles around.
As more and more people gathered in front of the five coffins that lay on a hill over looking the crowd, the sermon begins. It is a sad tale about those five heroes how each had done his part to kill Lord Voldemort, and how each had perished.
At the end of the service, those who knew these men well were permitted to watch as they be lowered into their final resting place. And finally, as the last coffin was lowered, Hermione let out one last sob. She knew that Harry Potter was gone, and yet he wasn’t. His story would be past down from generation to generation untill the world was cast into oblivion. And then she heard that final plunk that indicated that Harry had reached the bottom, and there he would remain forever, and even now and forever after, embed into his forehead was a lightning-shaped scar.
It was over. Voldemort was done and finished. Harry was overwhelmed by the velocity at which this reality hit him. Harry could not resist the smile that curled on his face. The prophecy was true, he had killed voldemort. Harry recounted the events over the past months, which had given him a whole new perspective of all too many things. The first thought that came to him was the shock that snape, of all people, who he had loathed throughout his six years at hogwarts, would help him fulfill the prophecy and destroy voldemort. He must’ve had to do a great deal of acting, both on him, and especially voldemort Harry thought.
But this trance was suddenly diminished as Harry looked down upon the floor, where Neville sat, plain faced, expressionless, with any remnants of life gone from his body. It was he who had saved Harry, he who allowed Harry the crucial time to send the avada kedrava curse directly at voldemort, he who had sacrificed himself so that Harry could finally destroy the dark lord. Guilt suddenly washed over harry, for it was all too simple that Neville could be standing in his shoes at this very moment, and him laying on the ground dead, if only voldemort decided to name Neville as his equal, not him.
His thoughts were distracted by the distant voices of Hermione and Ron. They were running towards him with mixed looks of shock and relief. Hugging Harry they began to question him thoroughly. “Are you alright? Are you okay Harry?” Hermione yelled. “Blimely Harry you’ve done it, Voldemorts dead.” Ron added. As if it went by in flashes, suddenly Hermione and Ron were on the ground, both pale and motionless, dead. Harry stood over them, laughing coldly with content. All it took was a twinge in his scar.
… laying there on the ground Harry felt a mixture of content and grief. he had killed Voldemort, but his best friend… He still couldn’t believe it. Ron, he was… he was dead. It suddenly hit him in the face. He was gone. He felt a shock going trough his body. Harry openend his eyes, the light was bright. Am I.. am I dead too, he wondered. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he discovered that he was in a hospital. Was it St Mungo’s?
Harry stood up from the bed, his muscles felt weak. He could barely stand. He could hear nurses in the hallway running towards his room. From the words that he heard he could make up that they were muggles.
Harry had managed to walk up to the mirror. Has looked in the mirror another shock went trough him. He realized that he had dreamt the whole thing. He felt his head to be sure. There was no lightning shaped scar.
…and then Harry fulfilled his new dream, of becoming a driver for NASCAR.
it had been a grim battle but now it was over. many died to end the life of one, the dark lord. harry could remember it very distinctly, the look on Voldemort’s face as he crumpled down – dead. Now he could lead a peaceful life. in the black lake he saw his reflection and was amazed to know that his forehead was devoid of a scar.
No one could believe their eyes, but it was a living proof of power of selfless love and strength of true friendship. It was the living reminiscence of a friend who has sacrificed his own life to save his two best friends from the most feared dark wizard of all age and in his attempt not only saved the life of those two but also ensured the freedom of wizardkind from most feared dark arts when his selfless act has resulted in the death of the �dark lord� voldemort, whose name was not feared anymore and mind you it was not just the act of spur, it had followed from the mammoth task of destroying �Magick most evile�, the horcruxes, beforehand which has ensured that dark lord was indeed dead and can not come back and here was he who has come back as Harry Weasly, the son of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger aka Weasley, having at his forehead the same lightening shaped �scar�.
…..and it was all over.He knew it and it would never happen again. He had got everyone back, starting from his parents to phoenix members (including dumbledore), to some death eaters and everyone. After all, he had really done well in the deathly hallows.
From somewhere far behind, lily potter called ‘Harry, come here!’. he ran towards her and gave her a great hug. She passed a loving hand over the head of her son, who got everything back from Voldemort. All that remained was a lightning shaped scar…
Harry stod there staring at the pale body of a roundcheeked boy who was very forgetfull and not so good in magic. Still he felt great respect cause the motionless boy had something that was much more important… loyalty and bravery. The boy had saved Harry from Voldemort. Harry bent down, reached for the boy’s wand and placed it on the his chest. He got up and looked around in the room. There was another body in the room, a motionless body too. Harry’s face broke into a little smile… it was over. Neville Longbottom had sacrificed himself to save Harry. Voldemort was dead. Harry lifted his hand to his forehead, there was no scar…
Neville gazed down upon the lifeless form of Harry and saw that the scar that once had stood so vividly on his forehead, had dissapeared. He turned away and was unaware that on his forehead, was his own scar.
And there he laid, the greatest wizard of his time. Harry was looked upon by every witch and wizard who attended his funeral. It was a sad day, a grey day. It was time his friends, who were the last to see him. Hermione and Ron held each other, sobbing uncontrollably. They looked at Harry’s face so kind but they remembered the days when it was full of light and happiness. Hermione left Ron to say his own last good-byes. Thinking of the first time Ron had seen Harry, he remembered Platform 9 3/4. He remembered the train. He remembered the first thing he asked him, “Is it true you have the scar.”
The wizarding duel was over, Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort. Voldemort was on his knees, a broken old man. His horcruxes destroyed, leaving the small amount of soul in his body. His humiliation was made unbearable, not only by Harry Potter’s defeat of him in front of the remaining Deatheaters, but by the fact that Potter wouldn’t kill him. Potter’s words, “Voldemort, I will not forget what you have done, but I won’t be your executioner; I’ll let the Ministry of Magic and Akzban punish you. I will not allow hatred to poison my soul. I forgive you.” With those words, Harry Potter walked away. Voldemort considered his options. He could try to provoke Potter but the boy and his friends would surely disarm him in his weakened state. He could allow the Ministry to arrest him and imprison him at Akzban where he would be caged and become a laughingstock. There was one last option. Drawing on his last remaining strength, he picked up another wizard’s wand from the ground, pointed it at himself, and yelled Avada Kevada. With those words, Tom Riddle died.
Later at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was talking to Headmistress McGonagall. “Harry, there is no need to finish school. You certainly know more than we could teach you.” “This may be true, Professor McGonagal, but we, Ron, Hermione, and I, would like to come back.” McGonagal paused for a moment and replied “I’ll make the arrangements, and you can return in the fall. Oh, by the way, Professor Snape would like to give you something.” Snape walked in the room, holding a jar. Harry decided he liked this redeemed Snape; this Snape who finally outgrew his anger over James Potter and the others’ tauntings; could it be that Snape was less greasy than usual… “Potter, I created the formula for this ointment for Professor Dumbledore. Please accept this ointment as a gift.” “Thank you. What will it do, Professor Snape?”, Potter asked, remembering Dumbledore’s insistence on manners and courtesy. “Dumbledore never used it since he felt scars could be useful. Rub it on your forehead every day for a month. The boy who lived, the chosen one who defeated the Dark Lord, the one who taught me the power of love and forgiveness, will no longer have a scar.”
Harry clutched madly at Riddle’s wrist as the ashes of his wand fell away. “It’s over, Tom!” Harry shouted, “You can’t get away, not this time.” Lightning-fast, something small and brown and glinting of silver scampered up Riddle’s robes. He howled in pain, and Harry suddenly felt as though he was being pulled in three directions at once. The eerie light of the Hallows was replaced with a dingy incandescence, and Harry took in one of the most bizarre scenes of his life.
They had apparated into a dark, dusty room, lined with bookshelves. Tom Riddle was still howling, his free hand a mass of blood. A few feet away, on the frayed carpet, a rat was scampering frantically, trying to find a hidden corner of the room to escape to. And, sitting in an ancient, dusty chair, was a figure half-obscured by shadow.
“Wormtail,” this figure said, “You re-directed their apparation. I’m impressed. It seems you can do something right after all.” The rat vanished behind the bookcase, wimpering slightly.
Riddle lunged towards the man, twisted in Harry’s grasp, and stumbled.
“This is the heir of Slytherin, then?” the man in the chair sneered, “The Great Dark Lord? A broken old man, beaten by a rodent and a seventeen year old boy.”
“Severus,” Riddle hissed, “Please…”
“Pathetic, Tom,” the man said, �Just like Dumbledore. Pathetic.� There was a flash of green light, and Riddle went limp.
�Severus Snape?� Harry asked, numbly. This was too much.
�Yes, Potter, Professor Snape,� the man said, rising from his chair, �Now, get out of my house, Potter, unless you want me to prove that the Dark Arts can cause wounds much deeper, and more permanent, than that scar.�
As the morning light seeped through the window Harry squinted and opened his eyes up quickly. His heart pacing he realized the battle was over and that he was with Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. Yet two faces he had not recognized came behind the hospital door, it was his parents. They greeted him with open arms and hugs. On this glorious day Harry looked straight into the mirror and to his surprise there was no scar.
The last light vanishes across the open land as the day becomes night. Hedwig flys farther into the horizon as the survivors of the Wizarding World stand patiently along the water’s edge. Beautiful blue fireflies swarm around our friends as if they, themselves, were waiting. Faint whispers come from all directions to pay their final respects and gratitudes for those who fell along the way.
It is hard to describe what is to become of the magical world and every creature that belongs to it. A difficult road lies ahead as everything has changed and everything that we know must find a way to continue.
As the group turns slowly around, Neville begins to boast a smile. Out of the corner of his eye a familiar figure watches them from across the lake. At last he knew and joins the crowd walking up the hill. Neville realized that death is only the beginning and when the time was right he would return.
Everyone looked around, waiting for the mist disappear. Someone was destroyed in front of them, and someone else was laying on the ground next to the destroyed body. Harry was laying there, and Voldemort was destroyed. Hermione and the Heirs of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were around them, and Hermione was crying. She knew that Harry was… “Dead…”, she said. Although, Ron didn’t want to believe that his best friend was no longer going to talk to him, not even going to breathe. Ginny was crying too, on Harry’s chest.
“The Avada Kedavra hit him were the scar is…”, said Zacharias Smith, Hufflepuff heir. Not even Fawkes could save him, when it received the Avada Kedavra in front of him. The bird died, but the curse hit Harry anyway.
“Maybe he’s not dead, guys! mummy died trying to destroy Voldemort’s horcrux, but… she wasn’t Harry Potter!”, said Luna dreamily. “Don’t be such a jerk, Luna! Not even Harry could survive another Killing Curse”, said Ron, angrily.
“Don’t do that, Ginny… otherwise, you will make me drown!”
No one could believe when they heard Harry’s voice. Ginny kissed him immediately, Hermione did the same with Ron. Luna and the others were shouting, happilly: “He’s not dead! HE’S NOT DEAD!”
“What happened, Harry?”, Hermione could hardly ask, fighting against her tears.
“My blood was what made him come back to life, that night in the Triwizard Contest. When he killed me, he could no longer live because my blood was in his veins. Fortunately, he hit me in the scar, which was a horcrux accidentaly made the night he killed mom and daddy. Hitting me in the scar with the killing curse, he killed him anyway, and destroyed the last remaining horcrux… For some moments, Dumbledore visited me in a dream, when I was fainted. He explained me everything… Now, Fawkes and him may rest in piece!”
“And so may us all!” Said Luna, smiling. Some tears were falling from her eyes.
“And our family may keep living with dignity, honouring our ancestor blood. Godric Gryffindor.” Ron said proudly.
they all smiled and hugged each other. Some minutes later, the Order of the Phoenix entered in the chamber of Gringotes, and the heros explained how they all hit Voldemort, weakening him and then, how he hit Harry with the Killing Curse, destroying himself.
Harry noticed that he had no longer the scar, but he didn’t care. As long as he could have his best friends and his girlfriend near him, he would be happy, and would live happily ever after.
Only the crashing of breaking crests hitting the shore broke the silence, until she said finally, “And you’re sure you don’t want to come back? This is you final decision?”
“My dear Minerva,” Dumbledore responded, “let us be honest. Do you think, after all that has happened, all that I have put them through, all the grief, even at times purposely allowing my students to stray into danger, that it would be wise for me to return to Hogwarts, or even the wizard community? How do you suppose my homecoming will be received? I daresay it would be met with contempt and dismay. People might perceive that I had tricked them, or perhaps they would not, as they did with Voldemort…” he registered the lack of a gasp and grinned, “believe I am truly back, that perhaps it is a trick, or some form of Dark magic.” She stared at him through her square spectacles, her brow furrowed in stern disbelief, but then her face fell slightly and she looked away, letting the sound of the waves wash over her. “I, of course, really do not mind, nor have I ever minded, what others think of my actions, but it would not be worth the bother. No, I think it would be best if I remained removed from any magical contact until I expire in a quiet, peaceful manner.” Professor McGonagall continued to say nothing, still staring out at the endless sea. “That, of course,” continued Dumbledore, “is not to say that I am not proud of all they have done, all Harry has done. I must admit that, while I believed he would succeed, I did not expect him to live through his ordeal, which only goes to show that I can indeed be wrong sometimes!”
Dumbledore stretched out on his beach blanket and rubbed some sun lotion onto his long, crooked nose, grinning serenely, as a silent tear fell out of Professor McGonagall’s beady eye and down her cheek.
“What were his final words, Dad?” asked 6-year-old Lily Potter. “Ya, what did he say?” asked 8-year-old James Potter. His proud father, the boy who lived, Harry Potter, was telling them for the 25th time how he, 20 years ago, had defeated the greatest wizard of all time. Mesmerized, his two oldest children were listening, sitting in the Potter’s beautiful Hogsmeade home. Harry’s wife, Ginny, was sitting in a rocking chair nearby, holding baby Virginia.
“Well, about that time, he knew he was finished. He had never understood love. But then, in my time of greatest power, all those who I had loved, who he had finished off, came back. There was my mother and father, Dumbledore and Sirius. Voldemort was so frightened. And then, Dumbledore muttered a few words, and Voldemort was gone. Forever.”
“Alright, kids, you heard the story, now go to bed,” their mother said. Lily and James obediantly went to bed, and Ginny followed them.
This left Harry alone to think about what had happenned then. All of the brave lives sacrificed. In fact, it was soon to be the anniversary of the night of that final battle. Hermione and Ron, now married, with their two children, would be coming to Harry’s home, along with many others. Harry couldn’t help thinking that he would not be where he was now, if it wasn’t for something he no longer had, his scar.
Love the true word that saved harry and only left a mark so much as a lightning shaped scar that will remian on harry forever, love so strongly filled with passion that has protected him all these years, a power stronger than any spell or possion can give you, the power that voldermort did not carry. Love the only thing that harry is left with as he rests peacefully with the scar on is forhead.
Hermine, Ron and Neville read aloud:
Harry Potter died a brave and courages heroe who sacrificed his life to save others. But he is not truely dead for his story still remians in our heart Harry Potter will only be dead when no one speaks of a little boy named harry potter who survived the darkest wizard and lived to tell the tale.
Harry just could not believe it! How his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had outdone themselves this year for Harry’s 18th birthday. It seemed a lifetime ago when Harry’s parents were killed in that horrible car accident. How lucky Harry had been to escape with only the cut on his forehead. Oh well, Harry was permanently disfigured with the lightning shaped reminder of this parent’s love, or more appropriately of his father’s bad driving, but he had lived. No one walking past the Dursley residence on Privet Drive would have ever believed Harry was anything but a beloved son and brother. Yes, his guardians had given him everything, sometimes it seemed to the expense of their own son, and Harry’s best friend, Dudley.
They stood by and supported him through the most challenging and difficult times, but that is what family, and a family’s love is supposed to create, an unbreakable bond of support. It had not been easy. Uncle Vernon made a modest living in the drill business, but Harry had been expensive, and though they were blessed with the task of raising Harry, there was no insurance money, no inheritance, in fact nothings left by James and Lily to provide for Harry. How could there has been. They were dreamers, hippies, and as reckless in life as they were in death. But fueled only by their love for Petunia’s sister Lily, the Dursleys had given Harry wonders beyond his wildest dreams. The best schooling, the best clothing, the best of everything. Even the best medical care. Afterall, weekly meetings with psychiatrists and high doses of anti-psychotic medications were not cheap. But at least Harry had been release from Hogswarts Asylum after months and months of constant “treatment.” Maybe this time his dilusions were gone for ever. He seemed to be getting back to normal. He even stopped talking about his belief of being a wizard, being the “boy who lived,” being the “chosen one.” He stopped trying to persuade the Dursleys that there had ever been a “Sorcerer’s Stone,” a “Chamber of Secrets,” a “Prisoner of Azkaban” a “Goblet of Fire” an “Order of the Phoenix,” or a “Half-Blood Prince.” He had not even uttered the names “Ron Weasley,” “Hermione Granger,” “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore” or “Lord Voldemort” in months. At last, it seemed, the doctors had made a breakthrough.
And now, Harry was enjoying his 18th birthday with his Aunt, his Uncle and his best pal Dudders. The tickets has been expensive, but how Harry enjoyed the theatre. Deciding that “Wicked” might remind Harry too much of his “dreams,” Petunia chose a more conservative production. It had received rave reviews. And growing up, from time to time, Harry and Dudley seemed just like Pumba and Timone. Yes, “The Lion King” had become a family favorite. The production was inspiring. The music, the costumes, the souvenirs, everything. The Dursleys had even treated the boys to stuffed animals. Now after returing from the treatre late and exhausted, the family retired for the evening. Dudley drifted off to slept under the watchful guard of his stuffed Mufassa. Harry, however, saying to himself, “I am not a wizard. I am just a boy. A very lucky boy,” fell asleep clutcing his new favorite stuffed toy, a soft, furry and cuddley little lion named “Scar.”
…And Hermione was so sad about Harry’s death, she changed her name to oSCAR.
Harry looked up at the darkening sky. He was more alone then ever. First his parents, then Sirius, then Dumbledore, and now Ron and Neville. Harry forced a smile out of himself: he had just remembered something Dumbledore had told him ages ago. “When evil is fought, and fought, and fought again, only then can it be kept at bay.” He had fought. He had kept evil at bay ever since that cold evening seventeen years ago when Voldemort had killed his parents. But Voldemort was gone. Sacrifices had been made, and Dumbledore’s deathwish had been granted. Evil had been kept at bay. He thought about Ron’s family, Hermione, and Ginny, and how they would be coping right now. He thought about his years to come when he would continue to fight and keep it at bay, for many Death Eaters had still survived. He thought of the Malfoys and the Lestranges. His grip on the locket tightened. That would all come in time. But for now, he wanted a break. A good, long break from everything. He set off into the mist, and it engulfed him until he was nothing but a speck on the neverending horizon, so distant that he could have been mistaken as the young, eleven-year-old Harry, a young, innocent boy with nothing but baggy clothes and a lightning-shaped scar.
Harry gazed lovingly around the crowded cemetary, hand and hand with Ginny, Ron and Hermione, now married, standing beside them. This cemetary was dedicated to all the people that had died, so bravely and courageously, in that final battle against the Dark Lord. The battle where such love and great sacrifice had been demonstrated, Voldemort had been driven away, disappearing forever.
But it had not come at a small price. Neville, Charlie, Percy, Lupin, Hagrid, McGonagall, Kingsley, Snape, and many others, had died for the happiness and well-being of their fellow brethren.
It seemed like it had happenned yesterday, the scene was so vivid in Harry’s mind, but in reality, it had been three long, painful months since Voldemort was finally defeated. Yet so much had changed, in that short amount of time. Ron and Hermione were now married. Ginny and Harry were engaged, and were going to be married next month. Arthur had been promoted to the head of the Magical Law enforcment squad, an honor he wore with pride, and with a portion of his earnings he had built a beautiful monument dedicated to the brave witches and wizards who had valiantly given their lives so the magical community could rest once again.
Harry was very proud of the part he had played in the Dark Lord’s defeat, he, Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the man with a lightning shaped scar.
Harry, looking back, could not believe how much had changed since that final battle with Voldemort…he had been 17 at that time, and now the 15th anniversary of that event was coming up, within a week, in fact. He had become an auror for the Ministry, and after Voldemort’s eternal defeat, he had helped round up the remaining Death Eaters. He had married Ginny exactly 2 months after she turned 17; Ron and Hermione had had their wedding 5 weeks after the Last War. Ron and Hermione Weasley now had three little Weasleys, Charles, 8, Amy, 6, and David, 4. As for the Potters, Harry and Ginny had wanted a big family; they had James, 9, Katibelle, 8, Maggie, 6, Lily, 4, Brian, 2, and Christopher, 3 months. Both families lived happily, no longer in fear of Voldemort. After all, he was gone now, forever…forever…
Hermione and Ron gazed out at Harry’s grave, hand in hand, both sobbing miserably at the sight. Voldemort was defeated, but with his life was taken many others, including their best friend who they would always remember, the boy with the scar.
…”and that was the final battle between Voldemort and I, but you james, charlie, and lily,” Harry said looking at each of his three beloved children as he said there names “need to get to bed, its way past your bed time and your mother is going to kill me if she finds out i told you the story again.”
Harry leaned in and kissed each of his children on the forehead and said goodnight. As Harry reached to switch the lights off and head to bed himself to Ginny, when his youngest daughter Lily said “daddy?” “yes?” harry replied in a soft tone, gazing into her beautifuly bright green eyes that go so well with her firey red hair, that resembled her monther so greatly. Lily giggled and said “i love you and you scar” Harry smiled kissed her again, and left the room without another word, but thinking, after all the pain his scar had givin him and all the lives lost because of it, he too had become found of his simple lightening-bolt shaped scar.
Harry bade Hermione farewell, and turned to see the faint outline of a familliar figure in the distance. It was Frank the Magical Hippo, and he was leaving Hogwarts forever. Harry took off his large top-hat in respect for him, and three rabbits emerged from the depths of it; hopping out after their hippo friend. One of them, however, hopped in a jolly manor back to Harry and bit his ankle.
“Oh no!” Harry said. “That’s bound to leave a scar.”
Harry looked into the mirror, deep in thought. Nothing had ever felt better than finally defeating Voldemort…he had done it! Incredibly, the boy who lived had lived through so many other challenges against voldemort the past 7 years. Alot of people had died, fighting at his side…but as Dumbledore said, it was important for him, Harry, to live. Still the death of Neville haunted harry the most, but at least Ron was out of the hospital wing and Hermione, Ginny, and Luna had all recovered from St. Mungos. Of course, Harry was respected the most he had been in his entire life. Looking up in the mirror, Harry gazed upon his lighting-bolt scar, the symbol that still stood for his bravery, and of course, for the boy who lived.
Harry trembled as the judge handed him his trophy, THE trophy, his OSCAR.
Ginny looked at him and sang, “Listen baby, ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no vally low, ain’t no river wide enough baby!”
Harry beamed and sang back to her accross the grave yard, “If you need me to kill Voldie, no matter where you are, no matter how hard! Don’t worry baby, If you call my name, I’ll be there in a hurry, you don’t have to worry–”
Then something happened that shocked Harry into silence.
All of the people Voldemort had ever killed, fell with a soft thud on the ground and began to sing, “Cause baby there ain’t no muntain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough… to keep us away from you Harry!”
Harry wiped his eyes and touched his scar. It gave him a feeling of confort to hear Dumbldore’s words fo the last time… “Ahhhh music, a magic far beyond all I have ever taught you Harry.” James came up to Harry and said, “Thanks for giving me this scar.”
as harry woke suddenly he realised it was all a dream. he yawned and fell out of the bed. “ouch!” he exclaimed, “now dats going to leave a scar!”
and voldemort laughed while he stared at harry trying to reach out to grab rons hand who had just fell through the veil, harrys hand went through the thin curtain that divided harry from ron… from sirius…from ginny.
the hand that went through the veil hurt horribly, he took it out and saw that it was black and burned like dumbledores and then he realized that sirius wasnt in the veil, dumbledore had taken him out, and he turned to face voldemort for the last time.
voldemort laughed and yelled “weve done this before harry, you cant beat me.” a gigantic chill went through harry and he looked behind his back. two dementors stood behind him and he noticed that they didnt seem to have any interest of attacking him. a thrilling thought occurred harry as he saw that they had just come out of the veil “ron, ginny?” the two dementors nodded at him before charging at voldemort. he was to surprised to realize what was going on. harry yelled, “petrificus totalus!” his spell hit voldemort as he fell to the ground. the big dementor (which harry assumed was ron) pushed ginny out of the way and leaned over voldemort to kiss him. when the dementor was done, he turned to harry, took his wand and drew a line across his neck, then handed the wand back to harry and harry understood, in order to get rid of lord voldemort forever he would have to kill ron. he smiled and yelled with his wand facing towards ron, “avada kedavra!” ron evaporated and harry turned to exit hogwarts, when somebody called him “harry, come here!” he turned around to see his father and mother waving at him. he ran towards them and felt a small twinge in the scar. he touched his forehead and felt no scar. as he noticed that he ran even harder.
Harry waited just inside the main gate of Hogwarts. He was scared. The moment of truth was almost upon him. He had been going over and over it in his mind. “Don’t use your wand,” Lupin told him. “It’s just what Voldemort wants you to do,” said Mad Eye. “You were just lucky with the priori incantatem last time, you can’t win against him that way,” warned Arthur.
But there was another voice in his head. A calmer voice. A familiar voice. A voice that warmed him all over and almost made him forget where he was and what was about to happen. “Match the spells,” Dumbledore said inside his head. “Match the spells.”
As Harry waited, he remembered the last time. Voldemort had done the Avada Kedavra. He had done Expelliarmus. “Match the spells,” Dumbledore repeated.
The air suddenly changed, and Harry found it hard to breathe. This was it. Harry calmly stepped from behind the wall and stood face to face with Voldemort. As if they were both in the same slow motion ballet, Harry and Voldemort raised their wands, and shouted in unison, “Avada Kedavra!”
Harry expected the wands to connect, but he was not prepared for what happened next. Red light burst forth from Voldemort’s wand, and Green light from Harry’s wand, met between them, and the contact point of the beams exploded with an earsplitting crash, a blinding light and such force that Harry was thrown backward several feet and landed on the ground on his back.
As his senses cleared, Harry immediately realized everything was completely different. He didn’t feel like himself. He tried to accio his wand, which had ended up laying several feet away from him, and it didn’t come. He got up and looked around, and immediately saw, where Hogwarts should have been, was an old, abandoned ruin with a “Condemned” sign hanging on the front door. Harry felt an emptiness he had never felt before. He was no longer a wizard.
He looked back over to where he had seen Voldemort last, and instead saw an old man, waving a wand around uselessly, like a child. Voldemort wasn’t a wizard any more, either. Harry walked up to old Tom Riddle, reared back and punched him hard in the face. Riddle fell back in a heap, unconscious.
Hermione and Ron ran up to Harry. “Harry! What did you do!?” pleaded Ron. “No one can do magic any more, it’s all gone!” Harry couldn’t answer, he just looked away. “He had to do it,” said Hermione. “As long as there was magic, there would always be another Voldemort…”
…they looked up to the brilliant blue sky, a floating white cloud was taking a curious shape. Slowly, but surely. They could finally make out the shape- a face, a face with flowing white beard, and half moon glasses. The face seemed to smile serenely at Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ron sighed, Hermione sobbed, Harry ran his hand weakly on his forehead, the place where happened to be a scar.
Dudley was sitting on the drive when harry arrived home. Muggle policemen and inspectors were moving around, shifting through the rubble. A small team from the press had gathered behind the cordon, along with neighbours and passers by. All of them were hushed and ashen faced. The rain sleeted down through them, making the grim place seem so much colder. Their country had been shaken, and it all boiled down to this little house, on a quiet street: number 4, Privet drive. Harry calmly walked through the crowd, stepped over the cordon and walked up to dudley.
“I don’t know how to explain..” Harry began.
“Don’t,” dudley looked at harry in a way he never had before. But it wasnt fear, or sorrow, or anger. He had seen things the like of which he would never see again, but his piggy eyes weren’t scared. His face had no emotion whatever, and he watched as the boy with the scar he’d grown up with, taunted, bullied and beaten, laughed at so many times and mocked at any chance, walked up to the rubble that had been his home, bowed his head and silently started to shake, with the tears he cried.
harry awoke suddenly to the loud thumping on the door. he quickly unlocked it to see his aunt holding a small frying pan. “here make breakfast for dudley,” she ordered. he leaned back in agony and realized it was all a dream. hogwarts, dumbeldore, hermione, ron it was all gone. but then he heard a familiar voice knocking on the door “open up!” he shouted then harry realized who’s voice it was, loud but soft. hagrid he whispered…he felt his forehead its still hear, he thought i still have my scar…
It was Harry’s new house in Godrics Hollow. All was messed up in his room, under his snow white owl Hedwig’s cage was a paper of Daily Prophet – ‘The chosen one finally killed the most feared person feared by the wizarding world Lord Voldemort! [no need to be scared as he is dead] Lets hear the tradegic story from Harry Potter himself –
“It was the night of Halloween [Lord Voldemort’s birthday and deathday] I was after his last horcrux[explanation of a horcrux on pg. 5] his snake Nagini when…[continued on pg. 11]
Harry open his eyes, dazed after being thrown back by the power of the expelliarmus spell. Harry quickly glanced to his left, his wand had landed by the coliseum wall. It was over. Voldemort accioed the wand and with a wry smile, Voldemort broke it in two.
As voldemort moved closer to harry, he tried to flee but his legs wouldnt work. His back was broken from the fall. Voldemort crouched next to the paralyzed harry and pushed his wand to his neck. “its over Harry Potter! No longer will you be the boy who lived!” Suddenly there was a rustle in the dirt. Voldemort and harry looked up. Chuck Norris was standing in the ring with them. A swift roundhouse kick to Voldemorts face vanquished the foe.
Harry looked, dazed, up at his saviour. A flash of light split across harrys face and darkness fell over him. Ron and hermoine arrived seconds later to find harry and voldemort dead in the ring. As they stared at their departed friend, they couldnt help but notice that the lighting scar was gone; replaced by a bad ass footprint. Love couldnt save harry from Chuck Norris. Harry is thus remembered as the boy who died like all others that came in contact with Chuck Norris’ anger.
Epilogue:
What Happenned to the Trio
Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley where married when Ginny was 20 and Harry was 21. Four years later they had James, when James was two they had Lily, and when Lily was two they had Evan. Harry was first an auror, helping to capture and sentence all the remaining Death Eaters after Voldemort’s defeat. Then, at the age of 35, he became head of the auror office. At age 45, he became the youngest ever Minister of Magic. He loved that job, but after a while decided to try something else, so when the then Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall, retired, he, at 70, became the youngest headmaster ever, a job he held until age 109, at which point he retired. As for Ginny, she loved being a stay at home mom until Evan turned 11, then she began teaching Defense against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, a job she held until retiring at age 110. Lily went on to become the head of the auror office, Evan became part of the magical law enforcement squad, and James became an Unspeakable. Since they were married they have lived in a beautiful Hogsmeade mansion.
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were married when they were 22. They had five children: Bill, Jane, Maggie, Arthur, and Molly. Ron was an excellent auror until he retired from that job at age 75, at which point he decided to open his own place, which was very much like the three broomsticks, only he called it the five wands. Hermione stayed at home caring for her children until Molly turned 11 and went to Hogwarts. At this point she began teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts. Incidentally, at one point at Hogwarts Ron was teaching charms, Hermione transfiguration, and Harry the Headmaster. Maggie and Molly were both stay at home mothers of five children each, Jane became a healer at St. Mungo’s, Bill became part of the Department of Magical Co-Operation, and Arthur part of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
The End.
After the war had ended, there had been a mad rush of weddings and babies. Mrs. Weasley said it had happened after the first war, too. People just wanted to celebrate the good things in life. The first of Harry�s friends to get married had been Neville Longbottom, of all people. He and Susan Bones had both worked in the Apothecary in Diagon Alley after Hogwarts had closed, and romance blossomed soon after. Seamus Finnegan and Demelza Robbins were next, followed by Lavender Brown and Oliver Wood. Oddly enough, it was this spate of weddings and all of their friends marrying young that turned Hermione off the idea. Although Ron would have married her right out of school, Hermione wanted to wait until the furor over the end of the war had died down. She didn�t want to be accused of having it influence her decision.
Harry�d had no such qualms. He had asked Ginny to marry him on the Hogwarts grounds during their last day at the castle. She�d accepted, and they were married only a few months later on the first of September. That day had always been one that Harry had counted down to reach, so he wanted something to always mark the significance. He was proud to say that September the first had dramatically changed his life for the better on two separate occasions.
He�d thought he and Ginny would have a small wedding right at the Burrow surrounded by the Weasley family and a few close friends. Mrs. Weasley and the Wizarding world had other ideas. They�d ended up getting married at Hogwarts in a morning ceremony before the students had arrived.
Harry had gritted his teeth and borne the fussing and fawning because he knew he was the one who won in the end. He got to be married to Ginny, and he�d never regretted that decision. Using the money Sirius had left him, they�d bought a very private, secluded bit of land not too far from Ottery St. Catchpole � but not too close, either. They�d built their own house � one with plenty of land for a Quidditch pitch, decorated and furnished the house together, and four months ago, their son, James Harry Potter had been born. Harry chuckled, remembering how desperately Ginny had wanted a son. Weasleys always had sons, but her brothers liked to tease her that since she was the girl, she�d have girls. Of course, that only made Ginny determined to prove them wrong. Harry had watched her stick her nose in the air, and her eyes narrowed with that �I-can-do-anything-you-can-do� attitude that he loved so much about her. He knew that technically the sex of the baby was determined by him, but he�d never doubt Ginny�s will. He was certain that their next child would be a girl simply so Ginny could prove to her brothers that she could also do what they couldn�t. Harry didn�t care. He was just happy to see his family growing rather than shrinking for a change. He�d told Ginny he didn�t care if they had two children or twenty, he just wanted James to have a sibling so he�d never be alone. Ginny had stroked his cheek fondly while insisting it wouldn�t be twenty.
And yes, Voldemort was there…according to plan. Harry crept closer, ever closer, in his Invisibility Cloak. If not for Dumbledore, I wouldn�t even have this, Harry thought, and tried to fight back his tears. Voldemort heard the slight rasp of Harry�s trainers on the hard concrete floor, and his head swiveled to where Harry stood. �Who�s there?� Voldemort demanded. Harry held his breath. Could Voldemort see through Invisibility Cloaks? The memory of Mrs. Norris came to him and he nearly laughed. He stifled it quickly�Harry knew silence was of the essence here.
�Ah, it�s you, Pettigrew,� Voldemort said in a silky, snakelike voice. Harry came closer and quietly drew his wand. This would burn a hole in his cloak, but he didn�t care. Expelliarmus! A wand flew into the air. Harry whipped off his cloak and deftly caught Voldemort�s wand. As Harry came into visibility, Voldemort started, surprised. This was not going along with the plan. Harry turned to Voldemort and put his hands up in a gesture of peace.
�Okay, I know what this looks like�I�m all destined to kill you and stuff, y�know�but hear me out for a second. Voldy�I can call you Voldy, right?�I have to tell you something. So just wait a second.�
Voldemort stared. Either through surprise or curiosity, Harry didn�t care. He continued in his Valley Girl-esque monologue.
�Voldy, as I was tramping all along England looking for your stupid horcruxes…I realized something. Dumbledore said that in the prophecy, I had �power the Dark Lord knows not…� and he said that was love. But how the hogdoodle would I be able to use love against a wizard as powerful as yourself? I thought and thought, fighting off your Death Eaters all the while…and then it hit me. All I can do with love is love.�
Voldemort could very, very vaguely see where this was heading. Harry looked Voldemort right in his snake-like slits for eyes and said with conviction:
�Voldy, I love you.�
Voldemort stepped back as though burnt. �You don�t really mean that,� he hissed. �You can�t mean it.�
�Oh, yes I do!� said Harry. �We have a ton in common, Voldy, y�know? We�re both orphans, both half-and-half, both Parseltongues…well, what�s not to love about you? C�mere, give me a hug…�
Voldemort,, still confused, said nothing as he hugged Harry. His wand, still in Harry�s fist, was just a couple of inches away…
Then excruciatingly white-hot pain hit Voldemort like he had just jumped onto the Sun. With a roar of despair, Voldemort flung himself to the floor. This stupid boy, barely seventeen, had just defeated the great Dark Lord. He loved him…and for a fleeting second, Voldemort thought he might love him ba�
Harry watched as Voldemort�s soul, or what was left of it, fled the earth. The Dark Lord was dead. Harry knelt next to the pale and supine corpse. As he heard the muffled shouts of Aurors rushing towards the room in which he sat, he slowly traced with his finger on Voldemort�s forehead…he traced for Voldemort�s body a new lightning-bolt scar.
FIN
Somber clouds were drifting heavily above his grave. As the coffin of harry potter was lowered, cries were being heard from around the world, with one exception.
A child, in the arms of a fiery red head with silent, but proud proud tears rolling down her face, was giggling a soft mellifluous innocent giggle. that belonging to only one who had never experienced the unimaginable evils that had occurred in the past few years.
The red haired, freckled child turned its head towards the grave. Just at that time the child became silent, as it looked through its emerald green eyes at the lifeless form waiting to be lowered into the ground.
The last lines of Ron’s eulogy went something like this: Some say lightning is the most powerful surge of energy known on earth. Well i say to those people look at him (points to harry) look what he did. He didn’t use power to defeat V-Voldemort, he protected his son, like Lily Evans Potter did so long ago. Yea maybe Harry James Sirius Albus Potter Jr. will never fully understand what his father did, but i know one thing. Harry Potter will, and forever be, the Boy who Lived.
There were three marriages going on in Godric’s Hollow. Lord Voldemort had been killed and vanishqued. There, standing in front, were the three couples–Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood, Hermoine Granger and Victor Krum.
Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape had sacrificed their lives to kill Voldemort. Snape turned out to be good. He had deflected three killing curses threw on Harry by Voldemort and at last Voldemort killed him with the Avada Kedavra. Neville was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange and griefstruck, Harry killed her.
All they could do was run. Without a wand, a wizard or witch was basically useless. Especially four Year Seven’s and two Year Six’s. Luna tripped. “Luna!” Hermione ran back for Luna. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” Lord Voldemort cast his spell. Hermione push Luna to a side and jumped backwards. They both avoided the spell. It hit the ground metres away from both Luna and Hermione.
They were in a graveyard. The same place where Voldemort was resurrected. “KILL THEM!” Voldemort told his Death Eaters. Harry looked at Voldemort and ran to him and grabbed his wand. “Accio wands!” Harry cried. Harry and his friends all got their wands back. “EXPELLIARMUS” they all cried, each pointing at a different Death Eater. They were all pushed backwards but they held thier own against the attack.
The Death Eaters revealed themselves. The first was Bellatrix Lestrange. Draco Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy who had recently escaped from Azkaban prison. Alecto Carrow. Amycus Carrow. And of course Peter Pettigrew. “I have waited so long to finally get rid of the last Longbottom! AVADA KEDAVRA!” Bellatrix exclaimed. It hit Neville squarely in the chest. He fell back – dead. “NEVILLE!” Harry and the rest of the group fell to their knees.
“You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!” Harry screamed. “You’ll pay!” Ron screamed, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”. Bellatrix fell, her blood gushing everywhere. Suddenly the world stoped. Everything was still. Except for Harry and Voldemort. “What happened?” Harry asked. “I momentarilly stopped the Earth from moving and Time from ticking” Voldemort laughed at his abilities. “Voldemort! This is where you die!” Harry stedied his wand. “AVADA KEDAVRA!”.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Voldemort also threw out his final jinx. But he was just too late. Voldemort was dead. Harry’s forehead which was hurting horribly, worse then it had ever before finally stopped throbbing. The world started spinning again. Time started flowing. The Death Eaters looked at their fallen leader.
Harry fell. “You… killed our… POTTER KILLED… LORD VOLDEMORT!” Draco Malfoy spat. “This is revenge for everything Potter! Goodbye! AVADA KEDAVRA!” Harry dodged the attack. “NO! NO! NO! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!” Malfoy Jr. threw three curses. Harry was hit by one this time. He was alive but barely.
“Hermione. You’ve been such a good friend. Ron. You’ve always been there. Ginny. I love you. Luna. Your great. I’m glad that I’ve met you guys.” Harry breathed his last. The last thing he saw was his father, mother and Sirius rushing up to him and carrying him off. He felt no more pain in his scar.
Harry still couldn�t believe one of his best friends, Hermione, was gone. He fought back tears as he stole a glance at Ron; tears were streaming down his face fast. It was all his, Harry�s, fault that Hermione had died. She had gone with him to defeat Voldemort, and had died while trying to defend him. Harry didn�t think he could feel so miserable with Voldemort gone. He looked away from Ron, and rested his eyes upon Hermione�s tomb. At least she saw Voldemort die before she took her last breath, thought Harry.
Ron looked at Harry, �You managed to defeat him, Harry� You managed to push him into the room of love where he suffered with the magic he overlooked. Hermione was proud� I know she was,� he said with tears still running down his cheeks. Harry thought he heard Fawkes� song. It seemed to soothe him; he looked at Ron, who had stopped crying to listen.
Harry sat there, thinking about all the things that had happened over the past day as the song went through his head. He had fulfilled the contents of the prophecy; he felt power rush through him, he had done it, not because the prophecy said he was destined to do it, but because he wouldn�t have rested with Voldemort trying to hunt him down. He ran a hand across his scar; the only relic that Voldemort had left behind. Harry had done what Dumbledore set out for him to do, and he was proud of it.
Hermione looked down at her two best loyal friends. Harry and Ron lay dead on the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. She looked at Harry’s forehead and gasped in astonishment. The lengendary lightnig bolt scar had vaniched for ever. The ‘Dark Lord’ was really gone.
Hermione was the last to say goodbye. Bending low over Harry�s coffin, her eyes blurred with tears as she whispered �I love you�, and kissed the scar on his forehead.
…and it was over. Harry had fulfilled the prophecy. Over this last year so many things have happened in Harry’s life. He had come of age, he had finished the task that Dumbledore left him with, and most importantly he had killed the Dark Lord. Harry had lost everything, though. His friends, his family and all that Harry held near had been taken by Voldemort.