I am not J.K. Rowling, I don't look like J.K. Rowling, my name isn't even remotely similar to hers and I don't make money from the stories I write. Which is probably a good thing, because I wouldn't make much.
Big, big, big time huge apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I suck. Really. I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving (and Halloween and Arbor Day and about a dozen other holidays that fell between the posting of Chapters 12 and 13). Here's hoping you enjoy the finale!
Chapter 13: With a Little Help from My Friends
"Once there was a tower at Hogwarts that stood far higher than any other, but distinctly apart from the rest. This was a magical tower, you see; a gift given long ago by another nation eager to avoid war. It could only be seen by those who had been invited: exceptional students in their seventh year that had their names magically etched on the tower's cornerstone. Once inside, the students could see visions of how their future might unfold, but the picture wasn't always a pleasant one. Some even called it the 'Tower of Nightmares', but only the last few who lived there knew just how fitting the name was."
***
"So…let me get this straight," Ron began, having only now heard of Harry's failed attempt to vanquish Jean Paul Gerard. "You were beaten by a hat."
"I wasn't 'beaten'," Harry replied testily, although he had to ignore the pain in his bandaged hands in order to say so convincingly. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Yes, but you're badly hurt," Hermione pointed out. "I still think you should see Madame Pomfrey about your hands. I know Hagrid means well, but he's not exactly a trained healer and the conditions in his hut aren't always sanitary."
"But it was a hat, right?" Ron asked with a confused frown. "As in something you wear on your head? Like a bowler or a bonnet or a beanie?"
"My hands are fine, Hermione," Harry assured her. "Right now I'm more worried about Gerard. He has to know I'm coming back for him and that I'll be better prepared this time. He might try something desperate; conjure something horrible..."
"Using the hat, of course," Ron added in a chipper voice. When Harry shot him a glare, he held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "What? That's what makes him so powerful, isn't it?"
"Why didn't you tell us about the Conjuring Hat before?" Hermione asked Harry curiously. "You said you recognized it, so you must have seen it somewhere while you were in the tower."
"I didn't think it was important," Harry answered her. "I guess I was wrong." He paused in thought for a moment, as Ron and Hermione both looked at him expectantly. "I won't make that mistake again. I know what has to be done now."
Ron scratched his head. "What's that, mate?"
Harry turned around and began to lead the way back inside the castle. "We have to destroy the tower."
***
"For ever since the tower was built, it had played host to an unwanted guest: a dark wizard known as Jean Paul Gerard or as Lord Montverde to those who once feared him. A piece of this wicked soul was torn out and placed in the tower and it delighted in filling the heads of those who lived there with great and terrible lies. Many promising young lives came to ruin there, although there were souls who emerged from it unscathed."
***
"What do you mean 'we have to destroy the tower'?" Ron demanded as both he and Hermione dutifully followed after Harry. "Like it or not, mate, it's a part of Hogwarts. We can't just go round blowing up pieces of the school we don't like. Otherwise the Slytherins would have done away with the Gryffindor dorms a long time ago. Or the other way around maybe…"
"Not to mention that we'd be breaking several hundred school rules," Hermione pointed out, her anger and surprise hidden poorly behind a forced expression of neutrality. "Harry, I know how much you want this to be over, but it doesn't seem as though you're thinking clearly."
"You don't need to worry about us breaking any school rules, Hermione," Harry assured her with a small, confident grin.
"Really?" she replied instantly as one of her eyebrows shot up, "Why would that be, pray tell?"
"Because I'm going to get this plan approved by Headmistress McGonagall," Harry answered her matter-of-factly.
The three friends walked together in silence for a moment, as both Ron and Hermione were dumbfounded. Finally, it was Ron who spoke. "This is a joke, right? You're playing a prank on me to get me back for blowing the match against Ravenclaw. That's it, isn't it? I mean, you're not really going to walk into the Headmistress' office and tell her that you're going to destroy part of the school?"
"Of course not, Ron," Harry responded with a small laugh. Just as Ron and Hermione appeared ready to breathe a collective sigh of relief, he added, "I'm going to ask her permission to destroy part of the school."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Brilliant idea, mate. I'm sure McGonagall will be surprised she didn't come up with it herself. I think I'll just be elsewhere in the meantime, yeah?"
"Good thinking," Harry replied enthusiastically. "See if you can find Luna, Neville and your sister and meet me outside the castle in about half an hour. Oh and you and Ginny will need your racing brooms."
Ron nodded and scampered off, although he gave Harry and Hermione a look that said he thought they were both rather mad. As they neared the Headmistress' office, Hermione's expression betrayed her own deep uncertainty. "I trust that you know what you're doing."
"Good," Harry answered, his somber tone carrying just a hint of wavering resolve. "Someone should, anyway."
***
"In a twist of fate, the dark wizard Montverde found himself caught inside his own well-oiled trap, a prisoner in the tower he had sent to England to drive generations of that country's best witches and wizards to utter madness. Between the horcrux of Jean Paul Gerard and what remained of the Medieval villain himself, they harnessed the magic of the tower and used it for their own evil purposes. The original intent of those who created the tower was thus perverted, with no thought given as to what that might bring about in time."
***
Hermione Granger had anticipated the worst. Disappointment. Outrage. The loss of her Head Girl badge, although that was quite a silly thing to be worried about at a time like this. Instead, all the Headmistress had said was, "Are you certain you can do it, Potter?"
And all he'd said in reply had been, "No. But I'm certainly going to try."
With no more discussion of the matter than that, Headmistress McGonagall had signed off on Harry's plan, such as it was. Hermione wasn't positive that she would have done the same had the shoe been on the other foot, although in the end she likely would have acquiesced. Harry could be quite persuasive at times, particularly when you were madly in love with him.
Hermione sighed. Although their relationship had deepened in the last few weeks, the duty of being Harry's constant voice of reason hadn't exactly gone away. However, there was now a need to go about it more delicately. "Why are you doing this, Harry?" she asked him, her eyes searching his own as they walked together down one of Hogwarts' ever-changing staircases.
"Isn't it obvious?" Harry replied, irritatingly answering her question with a rhetorical question of his own. "There's a dark wizard out there who can conjure anything he wants at a moment's notice. The horcrux that's keeping him alive, if you can even call what he has a life, is somewhere inside the tower and we don't know where it is or how to find it. Destroying the tower is the only way we can be sure…"
"I'm well aware of what you said to Headmistress McGonagall," Hermione interrupted him, her voice perhaps sounding a bit frostier than she had intended. "But I'm quite sure there's something else on your mind. Some other reason that you're doing this…"
"It's unfinished business, Hermione," Harry answered her. "Can't we just leave it at that?"
"It's not your unfinished business, though, is it?" Hermione asked probingly.
Harry stopped abruptly and let out a long sigh. "No, it isn't. It never has been." His hands reached for hers and held them gently. Hermione relished the feel of his fingertips pressed against her own. "When Dumbledore died, he left me a vault full of galleons, several hours' worth of his most cryptically helpful memories and the not insignificant responsibility of ending the lives of two dark wizards." He smiled at Hermione wryly. "Honestly, I think I would have preferred to have been left out of his will altogether."
"I know a part of you must really feel that way," Hermione told him softly, "but I also know that there's another part of you that wants to see them defeated. That wants to see evil lose and justice prevail." Hermione's eyes shone with pride. "Nobody becomes a hero because they're forced to, Harry. If you want to know my opinion, I think you're doing this because you need to, not out of obligation and certainly not for fortune and fame as you have plenty of both, but because it's just…well…right." As Harry turned his eyes away from her own, she added, "Right?"
"I reckon so," Harry replied with a nod, his voice slightly hesitant. "I just keep thinking…if I got my bum royally kicked by the withered-up remains of Jean-Paul Gerard, how the hell am I ever going to defeat Voldemort?"
Hermione gave him a reassuring smile. "If it means anything at all, I have complete faith in you…and so did Dumbledore. Don't you see? He trusted you. That's why he left everything in your hands."
"I don't know if you've noticed, Hermione, but my hands are bloody and wrapped in gauze," Harry muttered with a mirthless chuckle.
"And I'm still holding onto them, aren't I?" Hermione asked him, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze as if to remind him of that fact. "You don't have to go charging off on your own, Harry. I don't think anyone ever expected you to do this alone."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Harry replied as his eyes found Hermione's again and she could have sworn she detected the barest hint of vulnerability and longing in them. "I couldn't do any of it without you."
"You'll never have to," she told him. Hermione stood on the tips of her toes and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. "You'll always have me by your side."
Had Hermione still questioned whether Harry truly loved her, the look he gave her at that moment would have erased every doubt. "Do you really mean that?"
Hermione felt a twinge of sorrow at his uncertainty, but repressed it easily. "Of course I do."
A victorious grin spread over Harry's face as he reached the bottom of the stairs and began to lead the way out of the castle. "Great. I was worried for a minute that you wouldn't go for what I've got planned, but now that I know I'll always have you by my side…"
Hermione felt a knot begin to form in her stomach. "What do you mean?"
Harry flashed her a smile that at any other time would have made her heart melt. "We're going to have to fly."
***
"Every magical thing ever devised has had a purpose; a reason to exist. In this respect, the Oracular Tower is no different than a wand or a remembrall. It is quite different, however, when you consider how much magical power the structure was intended to house: power enough to give hundreds of students without the gift of the sight or prophecy the ability to see their own future. Magic that strong cannot be held at bay forever, not even by one such as Jean Paul Gerard."
***
"It's not as though I'm opposed to it in principle," Hermione explained in as calm and rational a voice as she could manage. "Obviously, witches and wizards who can make objects float should be able to do more or less the same thing to themselves, it's just…"
Harry managed to erase the victorious grin from his face as he attempted to soothe Hermione's jangled nerves. Other than the occasional pick-up game of Quidditch at the Burrow, his girlfriend was not much accustomed to flying. "You'll only be flying with me on Buckbeak, er, Witherwings. It's just like in third year when we saved Sirius."
"Yes, of course," Hermione agreed with a nod of her head, although her nervousness was still apparent. "Just like in third year."
Harry swiftly put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Except we weren't dating in third year, were we?" He planted a soft but firm kiss on her lips and watched happiness replace anxiety on her face. "Seems a shame, doesn't it? Holding onto each other for our very lives, relishing the warmth of each other's bodies and all of it only platonic."
"I don't know if all of it was platonic," Hermione said with a sly smile as she kissed him back. "I think there were subtle hints even then that there would be something more between us."
"Really?" Harry replied, his eyebrows rising in mock confusion. "I must have been rather clueless not to pick up on them sooner."
Hermione thought that over for a moment. "Better late than never." She then gave him a kiss that could in no way be considered platonic.
Moments later, Harry and Hermione came up for air and found themselves surrounded by Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville. "If you had told me you were bringing me here to watch them snog, I would have told you where you could shove this broomstick," Ginny said bitterly as her elbow nudged Ron's arm none too gently.
Still holding Hermione's gaze, Harry replied softly, "We've gone through a lot these last few years." He turned around slightly so that he could address all five of them. "All of us. Our friendship has had its rough patches," his eyes lingered briefly on Ron and Ginny, "and we may not always see things the same way," he gave Luna a small smile as he looked in her direction, "but we've always been there for each other when it counted, haven't we?
"There's a bond between us, linking us together. Dumbledore thought it was a form of magic… core links. He thought that together the six of us could defeat Voldemort. I'm not really sure about that myself. But I'd like to be. I guess you could say I want to try us out. Give the 'core links' a test run.
"By now, all of you know about Gerard and the horcrux in the tower. Tonight I'm going to try to destroy it, but I need all of you with me." Harry suddenly looked uncertain. "I…I dunno if we'd be as powerful if one of you sat it out. I have to admit I don't know much about this yet…"
"I found a wonderful book on the subject," Luna interjected enthusiastically. "Cor, You've Formed a Core Link by Herb Coriander. I'd be happy to loan it to you."
Harry gave Luna a nod of gratitude and then continued, "I reckon what I'm saying is…are all of you in?"
Ron, Hermione and Luna agreed rather quickly. Ginny took a moment to pout and then nodded sharply. Neville merely scratched his head. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."
***
"A band of souls brought together in common purpose is a very powerful thing in the world of magic, more so even than in the world of muggles. It is difficult to say what it was that truly bonded together those who brought down the Oracular Tower. Some say it was a type of 'core link', a form of the magic that traditionally occurs only between old and powerful married witches and wizards. Whatever the explanation, none can doubt their determination, their bravery or their willingness to sacrifice for the common good."
***
As he led the way to Hagrid's hut, Harry felt like a complete idiot. 'How could I have forgotten to tell Neville about the tower? And Jean Paul Gerard? And the core links?' Hermione, Ginny and Luna were more than happy to fill Neville in on the details, but still… 'I can't believe I forgot. I'd kick my own bum right now if I could.'
Just as Harry was imagining how a wizard might perform a spell that would allow him to temporarily remove his own leg and use it to kick his own behind, Ron tapped him on the shoulder. "Er, Harry? D'you have a minute?"
Harry had seldom seen Ron with such a serious expression on his face. Curiosity drove him to answer, "Of course, Ron. What's on your mind?"
"It's, erm, about these core links that McGonagall seems to think we have," Ron began nervously. "You know how she said that they normally only form between husbands and wives, right?" Harry nodded. "Do you think that that was the reason you dated Ginny?"
"I really don't know, Ron," Harry answered him with a shrug. "I reckon it's possible."
"But now you're going out with Hermione, right?" Ron asked, looking slight wary.
"Yes," Harry replied, enunciating the word slowly and looking at Ron as though he were quite daft. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"'S nothing, really," Ron assured him as he scratched the back of his neck anxiously. "It's just…you have a core link with Ginny and you dated her and you also have a core link with Hermione and now you're seeing her…"
Harry watched Ron's eyes as they wandered away from Harry and onto the blonde Ravenclaw walking behind them who was currently holding her nose and trying to explain to Neville what Jean Paul Gerard smelled like. "You're worried I'm going to start dating Luna, aren't you?"
Ron's ears turned very red. "I wouldn't say 'worried', exactly…"
"Well you don't have to," Harry confided in him with a smile. "I don't see myself going after any other witches for a long, long time. I'm very happy with Hermione." He shot Ron a sly look. "So, you and Luna…"
A moonstruck expression filled Ron's face. "She's really something, isn't she?"
Both boys turned to look at Luna Lovegood just as the three girls were finishing up explaining the events of the past few days to Neville. "And that," Luna declared, "is how Harry Potter was defeated by a hat."
"I wasn't defeated," Harry retorted through clenched teeth. Before he could say anything more, however, he realized that the six of them had reached Hagrid's hut and that the half-giant himself was standing only a few meters ahead with a dead ferret in one hand and a slab of rotten meat in the other.
"Good to see ya again, 'arry," Hagrid called out with a friendly smile. "I managed ta round up a thestral for ya." As Harry drew closer to him, Hagrid whispered, "Are you sure you don't want me to come with ya? I 'ave more o' that dragon sleeping powder sitting around, you know. Sometimes it works on Fang when e's havin' a rough night..."
"Thanks, Hagrid, but no," Harry answered him with a grin of genuine gratitude. "I think this is something the six of us need to do on our own." On that note, he turned to Neville and asked, "Are you coming with us?"
"Of course," Neville agreed instantly, although an expression of uncertainty remained on his face. "Although I'm still not sure what you want me to do…"
"Neville, you'll be with Luna on the thestral," Harry told him in an authoritative voice. "Ron and Ginny will be riding on their brooms and Hermione will be flying with me on Witherwings." While Harry spoke, Luna sat sidesaddle on the thestral and watched as Hagrid fed the beast the bloody meat in his hand. The others were listening intently, however. "Once we're airborne and flying in formation around the tower, try every destructive spell you know." After the proper formalities, Harry mounted the hippogriff and helped Hermione to follow suit. "We're going to bring the Oracular Tower down on Jean Paul Gerard's moldy, moth-eaten ears."
"What if this doesn't work?" Hermione whispered in his ear just as the six of them prepared to take off.
"Then we're back to square one," Harry answered her grimly. Somehow, though, from somewhere deep inside of him, he had a feeling that this time the battle would go his way.
***
"It began with a brash and foolhardy plan to destroy the Oracular Tower with little more than common schoolyard spellwork. While nobility of spirit ultimately overcame the operation's shortcomings, there were certain complications which became apparent almost immediately."
***
Having blasted a hole clean through the top of the tower, Harry was astonished to see the resulting airborne brick and mortar suddenly reverse course and return to its former location. The Oracular Tower looked pristine and undamaged. Harry resisted the urge to curse aloud. "This isn't going to work," he called to Hermione over the howling wind around them. "The tower must have built-in magical defenses."
Various instruments of death then began to fly from the top of the tower. Seemingly coming from nowhere, battle axes, broadswords and flaming arrows shot out at the six young witches and wizards. Ron maneuvered his broom so that he was now flying alongside Harry and Hermione, his hair slightly singed from an arrow that was a mite too close for comfort. "Built-in defenses, eh? What gave you the first clue?"
"We're going to have to regroup," Harry conceded glumly. "Get out of here and figure out another way to…"
Just at that moment something flew from the tower and struck Harry in the head. And everything went dark.
***
When Harry awoke he was lying at the foot of the Oracular Tower, although it was now shrouded in a dense blackness, giving it a distinctly ethereal appearance. Standing over him was a somewhat familiar face. "You've arrived at last," the young, auburn-haired wizard greeted him with a friendly smile. "I was beginning to worry."
Harry must have looked terribly confused, because he certainly felt that way. "Where am I?" An awful thought occurred to him. "I'm not…dead, am I?" It would be completely unfair, surviving death at the hands of Voldemort as a baby and then escaping from his clutches again and again upon his return to the magical world, only to die in a fall from a hippogriff.
"No," the teenage wizard replied, shaking his head slowly. "I should say not. You are only dreaming now. Or perhaps I should ask you to see it as one last vision from the tower."
"You're Dumbledore, aren't you?" Harry asked dazedly. The younger version of his schoolboy mentor nodded. "I saw the picture of you in that photo album in the tower. The one with you and your family…"
"A distant memory long ago forgotten, Harry," Dumbledore told him with a forlorn look in his eyes. "Discarded and laid to rest here, along with so many others." His hand gestured toward the Oracular Tower, which looked as though it had been freshly painted jet black.
"You said this was a vision from the tower," Harry reasoned aloud, trying to work through everything going on around him at his own pace. "What kind of a future is this?"
"No future at all," Dumbledore answered with a quirky half-smile. "This is the way things stand right now. Tell me, what do you see happening above you?"
In contrast to the darkness of the tower, the sun seemed exceptionally bright. Harry shielded his eyes and looked up to the sky, his jaw nearly dropping in surprise. "It's Hermione and Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna. They're still fighting the tower…and they're winning." Indeed, the tower was now falling apart all around him, although the base of it remained intact and covered in darkness. "They're winning without me."
"They're winning because of you," Dumbledore corrected him. "Are you still so completely unaware of the magic that binds you to them?"
One of Harry's eyebrows rose. "You mean the core links?"
Dumbledore's smile widened. "You may call it that if you like. In fact it is love, pure and simple. You will find no greater force in the magical world than that."
Harry frowned. "But I thought it was supposed to be the core links that would defeat Voldemort?"
"You will defeat Voldemort, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a twinkle in his eye. "The method is little more than incidental."
"Easy for you to say," Harry muttered to himself. Before he could say more, however, he noticed that only the darkened bottom portion of the tower still stood. His friends had thoroughly destroyed the rest of the tower but now it seemed as though their collective magic had fallen short of demolishing it all. "What's going on?"
"Have you ever considered how the tower must feel?" Dumbledore asked him, seemingly changing the subject. "Built to do such a wonderful, noble thing and then subjected to the whims of a deranged madman?"
If Harry were being honest, he would have admitted that he never considered that the tower could feel anything, but it seemed rather rude to point that out. "Er, I suppose I haven't."
"The tower wants to be destroyed, Harry," Dumbledore told him flatly. "It tires of its magic being perverted again and again over countless generations. I wasn't strong enough to do the job, but you are. You are the one who must end it."
Harry's frustration with the situation finally boiled over to the surface. "But I haven't the foggiest idea how to do that! I tried confronting him with that stupid sword you left me…"
"But you didn't decipher the entire message I left for you, now did you?" Dumbledore queried pointedly.
"Of course we did!" Harry exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air. "'Defeat Riddle,'" he began to recite from memory. "'Core links. Trust Minerva. Defeat Gerard. Critz swords. Hidden memories. Remember Riddle's diary.'"
"I believe I told you to remember Riddle's diary twice," Dumbledore pointed out somewhat smugly.
"Yeah, but I never understood what you meant by…" Harry stopped speaking as the wheels began to slowly turn in his brain. "You were telling me something about Gerard's horcrux, weren't you? About where it is or what it's like or something?"
"Or something, yes," Dumbledore acknowledged with a nod.
"OK, Riddle's diary." Harry went over everything he could remember about the diary in his mind. 'It was a horcrux. It possessed Ginny. She tried to flush it down the toilet. Words could appear in the diary without anyone writing anything on the page…'
"The cornerstone," he said aloud in realization. "That's it, isn't it? The tower's cornerstone is a horcrux!"
"You've done well," the red-haired, freckle-faced version of Dumbledore told him with a proud grin. "Now you must use that 'stupid sword' I left you and finish the task at hand."
"Wait," Harry called after him as he began to depart. He felt the tug of reality in the back of his mind, drawing him back to where he needed to go, but he couldn't resist a parting word with his old mentor and friend. Call it unfinished business. "Are you really Dumbledore? Or are you just some figment of my imagination?"
"When we die, we leave only pieces of ourselves behind," Dumbledore responded sagely. "Pleasant memories and small fragments of wisdom, if we're fortunate. Bitterness and resentment, if we are not. I am what remains of me inside you."
That didn't really answer his question, but Harry decided to ask another anyhow. "Why did you trust me? To defeat Montverde and Voldemort?"
Dumbledore shrugged. "What choice did I have? My time was at an end and yours were the only shoulders I saw capable of taking over this burden." As the vision began to dissipate, Dumbledore waved to him and Harry could not help but stare at his now-intact right hand. "Goodbye, my young friend. I wish you a wonderful journey, although I can scarcely imagine that you're capable of partaking in any other kind."
***
Harry's eyes blinked open slowly. He felt like he had been run over by the Knight Bus several times and then dropped off at King's Cross so that the Hogwarts Express could have a go, too. "He's coming to," Ron declared jubilantly to everyone, although he tugged gently on Hermione's arm to make sure she knew her boyfriend was conscious. "You gave us a pretty big scare there, Harry."
Harry managed to raise himself up on one elbow and then support the upper portion of his body with both of them. "You destroyed the tower."
Hermione grimaced. "Not all of it. For some reason, the base of the tower is still able to repel all of our best destructive spells."
Harry nodded, although it seemed to take more effort than it used to. "The cornerstone is Gerard's horcrux." When both Hermione and Ron frowned at that, he elaborated. "'Remember Riddle's diary'. That was Dumbledore's way of telling us what Lord Montverde made into a horcrux." Slowly, cautiously (and somewhat laboriously) Harry drew the remaining sword of Guillaume Prospero Critz from its scabbard at his side.
Ron's frown didn't go away. "And you figured all of this out while you were unconscious?"
"Not exactly," Harry explained without really explaining. "I'll explain later." Before Jean Paul Gerard could do anything else, conjure any terrible beast or foul-smelling army, Harry marched up to the cornerstone and jammed the sword through the stone. It went in just like Dumbledore had said it would all of those years ago…like a hot knife through butter.
With a violent roar, the entrance to Gerard's secret room within the tower flew open, revealing the decaying form of the Medieval French wizard. "It's over," Harry told him defiantly. "We won." He was not only thinking of his friends standing around him, but about all of the students who had been tricked into spending a year of their lives here, searching in vain for a future that was only an illusion; a wicked, terrible lie.
As his breathing became ragged and a blackish ooze seeped from his pierced chest, Jean Paul Gerard laughed softly. "You have lost, Monsieur Potter. All of you. England will burn." After a moment, his frail chest finally sagged around the blade although his eyes failed to close, almost as if they refused to concede defeat.
"Maybe," Harry answered the man who was no longer there. "But at least we'll be here to see what it looks like after the fire goes out."
"And to pick up the pieces," Hermione said softly and intertwined her hand with Harry's.
"Ahem," the Conjuring Hat interjected, its tone deliberately diplomatic. "I do hope you're not going to hold me responsible for anything Montverde did. I am only a magical tool, after all. Hardly any more or less responsible than a wand would be, if you think about it." When none of the teenagers standing around said anything, the hat began to nonchalantly bounce off of Jean Paul Gerard's head. "Yes, well, in that case…"
Harry leveled his wand at the hat. "Incendio!"
***
"And that," Hermione finished with a smirk, "is how Harry Potter got revenge on the hat that defeated him."
"Don't tell me you're going to put that in Hogwarts: a History," Harry protested, as a hint of horror entered his voice. "And besides, I wasn't defeated."
"Of course not, dear," Hermione said in a terribly insincere voice. They had been married for barely more than two years, but in some ways it felt like longer (since they had known each other practically their entire lives). Although in other, more intimate ways, they were still a bit like newlyweds. "You were the wizard who finished off Voldemort, after all. Couldn't have wizarding posterity believing that you had so much trouble with a magical fashion accessory, could we?"
"I dunno," Harry admitted with a winsome smile. "After that incident with that tie Fred and George gave me on our wedding day, I think everybody in Britain knows fashion accessories are my one weakness."
Hermione chuckled lightly. "It's a good thing Voldemort never figured that out. Otherwise he might have sent a pair of clogs after you. Or, perish the thought, a bulky sweater."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at that as he drew his wife into his arms. "So, Mrs. Potter, just how are you going to end Hogwarts: a History's new entry on the Oracular Tower?"
"Hmm," Hermione replied playfully. "I was thinking…after Harry Potter vanquished the evil tower and the even more evil wizard who lived inside it, he then proceeded to take his girlfriend inside the castle and snog her silly." Harry gave her an intensely skeptical look. "What? It has to be historically accurate."
"I suppose you're right about that," Harry said as he kissed her gently on the lips. "What do you say to a historical re-enactment?"
"I'd say that sounds wonderful," Hermione admitted. As they began to walk away from the tower, her curiosity got the better of her. "Harry, do you ever wish you had really been able to see the future when you were up in that tower?"
Harry Potter thought it over for only the briefest of moments. "Not for a second." He gave his wife a wide, beaming smile. "I have the woman I want beside me and every obstacle I've been struggling against since boyhood out of my way. Knowing what's ahead would spoil half the fun. Now I just want to be able to enjoy the journey."
And, of course, they did.
My sincere and heartfelt thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I hope you liked "Going On" but even if you didn't, I urge, beg and implore you to check out "Unchain My Heart", which will appear (hopefully) on Portkey New Year's Day, 2010. Thanks for all the love and support! Long live Portkey!
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