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After It All


They all thought the war was over. Voldemort was dead, the future was being planned, and they were enjoying a celebratory feast. Nobody knew about the rouge deatheater, bent on revenge...

Drama / Action
AG Stewart
Age Rating:

After It All

His wife was gone, killed, right before his eyes. And then Potter; that boy managed to kill his master as well. The Dark Lord was gone. Because of it, he wanted revenge.

Nobody knew he was still here. Most of the others had been arrested already. Many more were dead. He had managed to hide and nobody had found him. Now, he was waiting to get his revenge. It would be so simple to strike the boy down. Nobody would be expecting it.

He would just have to stay here and wait. Sooner or later, the boy would exit the hall where everyone was feasting and he would be killed, whether alone or not.

The doors suddenly opened and he lifted his invisible wand. It was no one, though, just a random student, who cheerfully headed off down the hall.

Though it would've been so easy to kill that student to help relieve his frustrations, he knew he shouldn't. It might alarm somebody to him being there, and then his plot would be ruined.

He lowered his wand again and resumed leaning against the cold wall of the castle. It was a weird feeling, being invisible. It was his first time with it, but he didn't have any other choice. He had to get revenge on Potter; the one who had messed everything up.

He shifted on his feet anxiously. How much longer would it take?

Minutes passed, though he had no way to keep track of them.

Then, the doors opened again and two people exited. He stiffened. It was the Mudblood, Granger, and the blood-traitor Weasley. Could he be with them?

It was apparent, after a matter of seconds that he was.

He slipped out from something, that infernal cloak, probably, and appeared at their side, giving them a half smile. Together, they headed down the corridor and Potter started speaking, informing them of something.

He didn't listen in. Instead, he lifted his wand and aimed. Before Potter and his friends were able to get very far down the corridor, he struck, whispering the spell.

"Avada Kedavra,"

The green spell headed straight for the boy. None of the trio noticed it coming toward them. They were too involved in their conversation.

It hit Potter square in the back and he fell. The Mudblood cried out his name. Weasley turned and looked in the direction the spell had come from, but then fell to his knees at his friend's side, not having seen anything.

Granger was still crying out, weeping over his death, and the noise was enough to draw attention from the Great Hall.

The door flew open and a rush of people came out.

He let a small triumphant smile come over his face as he sank back in to the shadows, avoiding the crowd of people that now filled the room.

Revenge had been dealt. Now, it was time to get out, before they discovered him. And no doubt they would search the castle for whoever had done this.

Harry Potter was their hero. Well, their hero was now gone, in the most permanent sense.

Harry blinked awake and was startled to find himself, once again, in a very white place. This time, however, he was not in Kings Cross Station. A creature was not crying under a nearby bench. Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.

Harry searched his mind for how this had happened. There was no warning. One moment he had been walking with Hermione and Ron, and the next he was here.

Grimacing, Harry climbed to his feet, wished for clothes, which automatically appeared on his person, then looked around carefully.

No one was in sight. Harry frowned.

"Hello?" he called out.

His cry echoed around the room, and all at once, a door opened on the far side of the white misty room.

"Harry Potter! What are you doing here?" a man, dressed in a white robe, asked as he entered the room.

Harry shifted unconsciously. "Dunno," he answered.

The man huffed. "You aren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to still be alive," the man informed Harry, a scowl on his face, as if Harry had chosen to die.

"I'm actually dead this time, then?" Harry asked.

"Indeed," the man replied, his tone softening when he saw Harry's bemused face.

He had actually been hoping to live a few years longer, now that Voldemort was out of the picture.

"I suppose things should be explained to you. Now, you don't want to be a ghost, do you?"

'Do I?' Harry thought, then shook his head. 'No, that would far too painful for Ron, Hermione, and the rest...'

"No," Harry replied then.

The man nodded. "Of course not. Why would you want to go back? I told them they should restrain the fates more, but no..." the man muttered, then trailed off before abruptly turning to Harry. "We must move on. We'll be holding up the line,"

He turned and went through the door he had come in from, and this time, Harry followed him, still feeling completely confused.

"Wait, so, how did I die?" Harry asked, jogging to keep up with the man.

"No idea. I'd have to check your file for that. That's where we're heading by the way. It'll help sort you, tell you important information, such as your last words, in case you can't remember, and other details," the man informed him.

Harry thought back, trying to think of what his own last words were. He had no idea. He had been explaining to Ron and Hermione about Snape, he knew, but that was all he could recall.

"Ah, here we are," the man said.

Harry looked up to find them outside a door, which the man pushed open.

Harry entered the room to find it was an office, presumably of the man he had been following. Files, most of them quite thin, were piled all over the room. The man squeezed through the files and found his seat at his desk, then gestured for Harry to take a seat himself.

Harry did so.

"Hmm, Potter, Harry James," the man recited.

A file flew out of one of the stacks and landed on the desk. It was one of the more thick files.

"I'm over childhood deaths. Anyone under the age of twenty-one. Therefore, most people haven't done much in their lives yet. You, on the other hand..." the man shook his head and pointed toward the file.

Harry grimaced.

The man opened the file and studied the paper on the very top, which had the title of, "A short summary of the life of Harry James Potter,"

"Read this and make sure it is correct," the man said, handing the paper over to Harry, then started flipping through the thick file, seemingly looking for something.

Harry James Potter

Son of James Potter (deceased) and Lily Evans Potter (deceased), godson of Sirius Orion Black (deceased)

Birth : July 31st, 1980

Death : May 2nd, 1998

Harry was born in Godric's' Hallow. He lived with his parents until October 31st, 1981, when they died. He was then moved to Privet Drive, to live with Petunia Evans Dursley, Vernon Dursley, and Dudley Dursley. He went to the local school. At age eleven, he started attending Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At age eleven, he saved the philosopher's stone from Tom Marvolo Riddle. At age twelve, he defeated a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and saved the life of Ginevra Molly Weasley. At age fourteen, he was an unwilling Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion and witnessed Tom Marvolo Riddle regain a body. At age fifteen, he taught a defence group for a number of students and his godfather died. At age sixteen, he nearly killed Draco Malfoy. At age seventeen, he dropped out of school to hunt for the Horcruxes of Tom Marvolo Riddle. He then proceeded to return Tom Marvolo Riddle to mortality and defeated him. He died at Hogwarts.

Cause of death : Avada Kedavra to the back, sent by a rouge Death Eater, Rodolphus Lestrange.

Last words : "Snape loved my mother."

Signature of Deceased :

Harry looked up to see the man had set a quill at the edge of the desk so Harry could grab it and sign his name. The man looked thoroughly enthralled in whatever he was reading in Harry's file.

Glancing down at the paper in his hand, Harry frowned, but then grabbed the pen and signed.

As soon as the paper was signed, the man looked up. "It looks like everything is settled. The good in your life outweighs the bad. By far, I might add," he stated, taking the paper back from Harry and stuffing it unceremoniously back into the file before tossing it behind him, where it landed neatly on one of the stacks by the wall.

"Come on, then, Harry," the man said, climbing to his feet and leading the way out of the office.

As they walked, the man started to speak. "The thing about dying, Harry, is that everyone you know who've died before you is suddenly alerted so that they can come greet you. Though, you've had so many close calls that I don't know how many people will actually show up. However, we'll see,"

They continued down the seemingly endless hallway for another long while before the man stopped at yet another door. "Here we are. I can't go in there with you, I'm afraid. It's your reunion party, though, so don't looked so nervous,"

The man opened the door and pushed Harry through without another word.

Harry stumbled, nearly falling, only to be caught by someone's strong hand on his arm. He glanced up, about to murmur a thanks, when he saw the face of who had done the catching. It was almost a mirror image of his own face, except it had hazel eyes and the scar was noticeably absent.

"Dad?" Harry muttered, his eyes widening.

James Potter grinned at the expression on his son's face.

"Welcome home, son," he said, pulling Harry into a half hug and gesturing to the rest of the room.

Harry blinked around and noticed the room was full of people. His mother, Lily, was smiling lightly at him from a few steps away. Sirius was grinning as he stood next to Remus, who had an arm around Tonks. Both looked mostly content, though there was some sadness in their eyes, which Harry instinctively knew was about leaving Teddy behind. Dumbledore stood behind them, his eyes twinkling in the same way they had in life. Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley, and Cedric Diggory, involved in a game of Gobstones, all waved at him cheerfully. Dobby and Hedwig were both present as well, in the background. Also lurking in the background, Harry noted, was a bitter looking Severus Snape and a rather whole looking Alastor Moody.

Harry couldn't help but let a content smile wash over his face. Yes, he had left Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and so many others behind, but here was where his real family was. Besides, the others would join him in time.

James pulled him into a full hug then and Harry relaxed completely, content, finally, with his situation.

The room was completely silent. A ring of people just sat there, some with tears streaming down their face, others just staring blankly into space. They were the closest friends and family of Harry Potter.

They were still trying to comprehend the absence that his death left them with.

"Someone will have to inform the Dursleys," Minerva McGonagall said in an undertone.

Her voice, quiet as it was, seemed to shock the others out of their stupor.

"They won't care," Ron muttered bitterly.

Nobody chose to reply to that, and the room fell back to silence.

"When will the funeral be?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"It is up to his guardians," McGonagall replied, then frowned, realising that his guardians were the Dursleys, and if Ron's comment was true, it may not get planned.

"We will take care of it then," Molly stated firmly. No one dared contradict her, nor point out that she already had to plan Fred's.

"You know, I think we're looking at this all wrong," Hermione said softly into the silence.

Everyone looked over at her in confusion.

Hermione promptly explained. "Think about it. Now he's with his parents, and Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks, and I bet Fred is even there with them,"

"And Colin," Ginny added, her eyes on the ground.

"They're probably having one heck of a party," George murmured, the corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly.

With that thought in mind, the room fell silent again.


Harry looked, obeying his father, and watched as James created a sort of screen out of the mist in the air, just by willing it.

On the screen came a view of faces that were very familiar. Most of them had tears streaming down their faces, though others just looked lost. Harry examined the scene. "Is this my funeral?" he asked softly.

"It is," Sirius replied, watching from a nearby couch.

Remus and Tonks, too, were still around, and Lily as well. The rest had already left again, to do whatever they always did here.

Harry was glad to notice that it was a small funeral, with just people who had actually known him, unlike Dumbledore's. The Weasleys were there, all of them looking terrible. Of course they did. They had lost Fred and him, all in one day.

Harry's original Quidditch team and all the members of it since then were there as well. Most of the members of the D.A. were present, sitting together. Then there was Hermione, of course, sitting amongst the Weasleys.

Even, Harry saw, the Dursleys had shown up, or, at least, Dudley and Aunt Petunia.

Then, Harry spotted an unfamiliar face. An older woman, carrying an infant. After a moment, he realised that the woman was Andromeda, which must mean the baby was...

"Is that Teddy?" Harry asked, glancing over at Remus and Tonks.

Remus nodded, his eyes on the screen.

"I never even met him," Harry murmured, mournfully, watching his godson as his hair changed colour suddenly to a bright blue colour.

"I still can't believe you married little Dora," Sirius remarked, smirking over at Remus.

Remus rolled his eyes. "You were one of the first to know we were dating, Padfoot,"

"Yeah, but I didn't think that it would progress into anything further," Sirius retorted.

Lily sighed. "I miss the days of peace and quiet," she lamented softly, "before Sirius got here."

Harry half smiled at that, knowing that she didn't really mean that. He had been watching her and his father carefully and he thought he was getting to know them a little more personally than others had described them. They actually reminded him a bit of how Ron and Hermione were, especially close to the end.

With that thought, Harry looked back to the screen and sought out Hermione and Ron to see them with their hands entwined. His death had, fortunately, not messed up their relationship. Harry was glad. They would need each other.

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