Unofficial Portkey Archive

This is the alternate ending that I've posted on other sites, shortly after I posted this story. This is a decidedly, deliciously darker ending.

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He felt a bit peckish. Maybe he should ask Kreacher to make him a sandwich?

He and his new wife leaned on each other as they went back into the school and into the significantly scorched Great Hall, ignoring the crowd of students outside the door, and the teachers blocking the entrance. Harry took the Headmaster's seat, and Hermione took the seat next to him. With a flick of Mrs. Potter's wand, the entire Great Hall was back to its usual grandeur.

The full five minutes of dead silence was somewhat comforting for the two, until Kreacher popped in with two sandwiches. Dobby, being the showoff that he was, got the house-elves to conjure giant bowls of popcorn for everyone in the great hall. He whispered something in Harry's ear, and Harry laughed. He took his Elder Wand and shot into the sky. The candles disappeared, and the ceiling of stars faded away to black.

The Wizarding World got their first ever view of a muggle movie theatre. The title - Harry & Hermione Potter vs. the World.

The violence was dimmed down significantly - no blood - so the strange new kernals of what seemed to be hard bread covered in butter were devoured vigorously as they watched both the battle at the Ministry and the massacre at Hogwarts.

Of course, whenever someone called the 90's equivalent of 'bullshit' - usually 'codswallop' or 'poppycock' - they were gently escorted outside to see the evidence. They usually ended up giving away their popcorn after that.

During the short movie's credits, the school turned towards their saviors, hero-worship in their eyes. Harry had seen that look on them every other year, and Hermione fidgeted as she finally found out what Harry had to go through half his years at the school. She was wearing her school robes, to commemorate the celebration, and Basilisk skin underneath, but she felt naked.

Still, the hero-worship proved to be useful as Ron Weasley ran up to the podium to give his two best friends a hug. Over thirty stunners were fired, but only eighteen hit their mark. Later, the couple would learn that Ronald was loudly preaching against them throughout the year, and had said that he would 'punch that git in the nose' if he ever got the chance again, for taking what was his.

They didn't really know if he was talking about Hermione or the Deluminator, but they were too engrossed at seeing Ron foaming at the mouth and twitching violently to care.

Poppy Pomfrey begrudgingly carted him off to the Hospital Wing a short moment later.

Harry briefly considered saying a speech, but before he could say anything, he remembered an old saying, that his mother probably would have told him if he were still alive. 'If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.'

So he started to go sit down.

'I also would have told you "If nothing nice can be said, something needs to be said."'

He stopped as he heard his mother's voice. He fingered the ring on his right hand as he asked 'Are you sure, mum? You know what this can mean.'

'We're sure, pup.' His dad intoned. 'You were put through hell. Now it's your turn to give back.'

Harry nodded to himself, bolstered by his parents' presence through the Resurrection Stone. He reached for Hermione's hand and she gracefully stood beside her husband. Just like many times before, they communicated with each other through their eyes. She nodded, her lips in a grim smile. Harry nodded and turned back to the crowd.

"Years ago, starting in my second year, you called me a Dark Lord in training, only because I could speak to snakes. You accused a twelve year old of being an evil spawn that killed innocent people. In my fourth year, the world accused me of cheating and lying my way through a tournament I was forced to compete in. The year after that, I was a delusional boy that told lies about Voldemort's return." He noticed the flinches, and they had nothing to do with their accusations of him. "How long will it last? My wife and I just killed the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries. This is the second time a muggleborn has contributed to his death, but nothing changes. You will still call her a mudblood. No matter how much more powerful she is than you - clearly - you will continue to call her that. She nor my mother deserved that title. No one does.

"And now - no one will. From this point on, that vile term is now a taboo. Same goes for Blood-traitor, or any other vile derogatory terms."

"You can't do that!" Pansy was the first Slytherin to yell, what could have followed several more howls of outrage. Had the next moment not happened. "Just because you're shacking up with your stupid whore mudblood bitch doesn't mean -"

In another situation, as discussed with the house-elves earlier, Dobby would have sent off 5 house-elves to quickly subdue the witch. As house-elves were all broken of their duties the previous day, only to immediately go into work with the Potters, it was their job to uphold the rules of the new Taboo. They could hear and apparate through any rune, charm, or spell. They could pop in silently, to surprise their Taboo-breakers, and they could send them to The Potters' newest property, that Harry had bought a few days ago, thanks to a good chunk of Dumbledore's money.

Azkaban. They were sentenced there for five days, whoever said one of the words.

That's what would have happened, anyway.

But by the time the elves appeared, which was immediately, Pansy was already blasted back into the wall, the back of her head banging against the stone, but she was dead before that.

Everyone looked up to see Harry and Hermione, their wands still raised at Pansy's corpse, A hateful glare directed at her.

Harry turned towards the audience and flicked his wand before anyone could react. Anyone in the large crowd who pulled out their wand with the intention of hurting someone would find themselves with a wand that would burst into flames. It would singe the holders hand quite severely, but it would only last about five minutes, the wand would appear normal and unsinged, and the hand would be healed.

The spell lasted for the rest of their lives, whatever wand they held, but they wouldn't know that yet.

There were several bursts of flames throughout the tables. Several jets of water joined in, and it took a moment for everyone to realize that not only did the water not affect the fires, but that the burning wands affected nothing but clothing and bare flesh (and, as they would eventually find out, anything the caster was holding at the time).

After the initial cries of anguish, and as they waited for the fires to die down, Harry spoke again. "You kept telling me I was going to be a Dark Lord. You kept begging me to be one. Some of you just assumed that I was, and moved on." He gave a slight shrug, his shimmering cape billowing behind him. "I kept hearing it so much, that I couldn't help but agree."

Hermione squeezed his hand as she spoke. "Did any of you ever stop to wonder what would have happened if the world treated Harry like a normal boy?"

And without so much as a pop, the Potters faded away from the podium.

Pandemonium erupted. Several wands burst into flames. Several Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and even a Gryffindor or two, were knocked out and arrested by elves. Even a wizard that was smart enough to realize that it was better to just use his hands to convey his feelings was quickly incapacitated.

The more loyal members of Dumbledore's Army - Now the Potter Platoon - found themselves fading away as well, along with other students that seemed to be defending the Potters. They would soon discover that the New Generation of the Ministry of Magic was forming.

The Wizarding World's most famous couple knew that after the defeat of Voldemort, their real work - their true calling was just beginning.

Should be fun.

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This was also the author's note that I had written when I wrote the alternate ending.

Back when 'Deathly Hallows, Take Two' was just a sparkle in my eye, this was where I wanted to take the story. But this version is a much better story when it's not fleshed out into two hundred thousand words. Something completely different is planned for Take Two, and I think you will be pleased with the results.

Please take the time to review. I've already been told that my version of Harry and Hermione have no morals, they should be in jail, I'm bastardizing the characters in the name of Harmony (ironic, right?), yadda yadda yadda. So please save it, I just chuckle and make them more violent.

Ron is still twitching somewhere in St. Mungo's, but that wasn't important enough to add to the end of the story.

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Just search rihaansfics on google. You'll find the rest. Thank you for all of your support.

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