The Column

I have never been one to submit myself to journalism. I don't do interviews. I don't particularly read The Daily Prophet, but I do read. I blame that on my wife of 25 years. It's also because of her that you're reading this today.

I, Harry James Potter, am writing this column myself. Forgive me if this doesn't seem worldly enough for you, or if I don't sound as eloquent at you expect me to be. That's my wife's job.

My wife and I are childhood sweethearts. We just didn't realize it until our early twenties. We have three wonderful children, two of which are married and graced us with one grandchild with another on the way. Words can not accurately express what I feel for my family. They are my heart and soul, and without them, I am nothing.

I write this today because this is the beginning of a twenty-five column installment at the request and inspiration of one of my best friend's wife. The first column is short, but I assure the next chapter will not be so.

Why am I doing this now, at 50 years old?

For a simple reason.

I am dying. Yes, the Boy Who Lived is dying. I write these columns for my wife and children. I write these columns for my friends. I'm a quiet person, but I want something for my family to remember me by.

Some time ago, I was handed a book written by an American muggle and I felt inspired. The book is called The Last Lecture.

I felt it fitting because I have been a professor at Hogwarts for the last twenty fives years, and this is my last lecture.

You may cry. You may smile.

I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I just want you to read, and to understand.

This is my prologue.

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Author's Note: Yes, this story does stem from Randy Pausch's “The Last Lecture”. However, his last lecture isn't going to be the same as Harry, I can assure you. This will simply be a different way of tell Harry's story. I do urge you to read the story, but enjoy this as well. The updates will be weekly, and all in first person with is something new to me. All will be revealed in due time.

Disclaimer: The writing is mine, the characters are JK Rowling, and the Last Lecture is Randy's.

I remember vividly how I felt after the war. I felt angry. I felt bitter. I felt relieved, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. If it weren't for Hermione and Ron, I have no doubt that I wouldn't have survived at that time. For seven years after the defeat of Voldemort, I had difficulty finding myself.

That sounds spiritual, doesn't it? It's not. Hermione tells me it was my teenage years resurrected since I didn't have that luxury in school.

My face graced The Daily Prophet's gossip pages for months and years after that night. I tried everything in my power for it not to happen, but it was something I had no choice about. I did the only thing I thought I could do.

I gave them something to talk about. The first two years after what would have been my seventh year, I decided to take up playing professional Quidditch. I, along with Ron, signed a contract to play for the Chudley Cannons while Hermione and Ginny Weasley entered into Healer training.

The first few months were hard. It was then that Ginny and I decided to officially call it quits. We weren't meant to be, and that much was obvious. Ron started to date Luna, and I just dated.

My wife laughs when I say that because for two solid years I didn't just date, but I dated a lot. When I dated, the media was sure to let everyone know who and when.

To this day my wife says she doesn't understand why I dated so much, but I do. I was looking for her. Or, I was looking for someone like her.

“Harry, have you seen the latest cover of the Daily Prophet?” Hermione asked with an air of disgust in her voice.

Harry laughed. “Of course not, but I'm sure you're going to tell me, aren't you?”

“It says you're dating two women at the same time, Harry! It says that they even KNOW about each other.”

“Damn. How the hell did they find out about the menage troi? I thought I closed the blinds!”

Hermione stood from her seat to slam the paper down in front of him. “HARRY! I can't believe you! Why are you acting like this?”

The smirk fell from Harry's face when he realized that his best friend wasn't in the mood to kid around. “Sit down, Hermione.”

“No! I won't sit down. What has happened to you, Harry? What has happened to my best friend?” she asked timidly.

She may not have wanted him to notice the small hitch in her voice when she voiced her thoughts, but he did. He also noticed the unshed tears building.

Once again, Hermione Granger was right. What had happened to Harry Potter?

My best friend was the most brilliant witch of our time, and here I was wasting my life away partying, sexing it up and pretending to live life to the fullest. I hadn't the faintest clue when noble Harry turned into playboy Harry. At that moment I was convinced while my father and his best friends would have loved the thought of I playing professional Quidditch; they would be disgusted to see how I was living my life.

It was at that point that I decided to give up Quidditch and enter into Auror training.

I think everyone around me was surprised to hear my announcement. Ron was disappointed, but I believe he understood my reasoning. The Weasley's were so proud of my decision.

However, it was Hermione who made me realize that I made the right choice.

Auror training was long and gruesome. I wasn't sure what to expect when I signed up, but I knew that I was in it for the long haul. I went through two years of training and because Hermione had two years of training in combination with two years of a residency at St. Mungo's, we both graduated at the top of our programs at the same time.

To this day, I don't believe she knows exactly how proud I am of her.

Harry sat quietly at the kitchen table in the Burrow. In excitement of Harry, Hermione, and Ginny finishing their raining; a celebration was called for.

And boy did they celebrate. Ron had asked Luna to marry him in front of their family and friends. Harry finally felt he was doing something right. Life was good.

“What's the smile for, Mr. Potter?”

Harry's eyes met warm brown eyes. “Just enjoying the moment, Miss Granger.”

Hermione smiled as she took a seat next to Harry.

“Are you happy, Harry?”

He thought about her question for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Yes, I do believe that I can say I am actually happy. How about you? Are you happy, Mione?”

She leaned closer to softly kiss his cheek. “Never better. I have you in my life. What more can I ask for than that?”

I believe that was the moment I knew I was in love with Hermione Jean Granger.

She, however, did not know this. I was twenty-two at the time. What did I know about love? Nothing. Or, so I thought. I played with the thought of asking her out on an actual date for weeks afterwards.

But how does one ask their best friend out on a date nevertheless tell that person you love them? I was surprised that my advice came from the most unlikely source.

“What's got you so glum, Potter? You're a big bad Auror now,” a silkily smooth voice said from behind him.

Harry turned around to see his childhood nemesis stand behind him with a smirk adorning his face. Draco Malfoy had joined their group of friends two years ago when he and Ginny started dating. To say their relationship was a shock would be an understatement, but Draco had changed since they were in school and Harry considered the man a close friend after so many years of hating each other.

Harry turned back to his pint of beer and shrugged.

“Give it up, Potter. You know I'm going to bug the fuck out of you until you tell me why you look like someone broke your beloved broom.” Draco signaled to the bartender to bring him a beer.

“When did you realize you were in love with Ginny?” he asked solemnly.

Draco's eyes widened turning himself to face Harry's hunched over figure. “Bloody hell, Potter. Why ask that?”

Harry sighed loudly. “Just answer the damn question, Malfoy. How did you know?”

The blonde man eyed his friend carefully. “I can't describe it, really. I just knew. She was all I thought about. When I couldn't imagine anyone else in my past, present, or future, I knew she was it. I ask again. Why do you want to know?”

“I think I'm in love with Hermione,” he muttered.

Draco took a moment to ponder the statement. “You think, or you know?”

“I know.”

“Then tell her. Don't wait until the opportunity is gone, Harry. If you do, you'll only regret it. This is your life. This is now. Hermione is it. You need to make sure she knows that just like you do.”

“What if she doesn't feel the same?”

“Then at least you took the chance. What if you didn't take that chance and in twenty something years you regret it? Don't live your life full of regrets like my father did. Live it and learn from it.”

Harry brought his eyes to meet Draco, and nodded his agreement. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're right.”

Draco smirked the infamous Malfoy smirk that Ginny always complains about. “Of course I am and I plan on gloating about it for the rest of our lives, Potter.”

“The day I publicly admit to that, Malfoy, is the day that our kids marry.”

I didn't waste any time either. That night, I went to Hermione and confessed to her what I told Malfoy. I was petrified of rejection. It was her kiss that confirmed how she felt.

Three years later, we were married on August 31^st in front of our family and friends in a small ceremony on Hogwarts grounds. The following day, I started my first year as a professor at Hogwarts teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. We moved into a small cottage in Hogsmeade that had a floo connection to my office.

To this day I say that the day I married Hermione was the beginning of my life. I had no idea what I was in store for my being married to her but those stories have to wait till next week.

Lesson One: Take a chance. It doesn't matter if it's something simple like choosing a book to read, starting a friendship with someone unlikely, or finding your soul mate. Take the chance because regrets only turn into what ifs. And what ifs don't seem to make life as interesting.

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