hi guys! rejoice for i have a little thing that im releasing onto the world. im proud of it. it's not much. its not really even as complete as it could be, but hey, im gonna post it anyway. just kind of a. flow of conscious, entirely based on vibes thing i came up with.
and I’m happy sitting with my friends on sidewalks singing songs
When all is said and done and the monster is defeated, what is left for the hero to do but go home?
On May 2nd, 1998, red meets green and Voldemort falls. This is the end of the War, as far as the world is concerned.
To Harry, the real end of the War looks like this: Harry and Ron and Hermione on the sofa, tucked together like one entity, her legs dark against Ron's pale, freckled ones, Harry's own thrown overtop. Across from them, Pansy Parkinson has her socked feet up on the table in the worn green chair across from them, Ginny's bright head in her lap. Draco and Luna sitting side by side in the other chair, too small for the both of them but they’ve squashed in together anyway and they look quite like siblings just then, peering back at the rest with the same sharp eyes and pale hair. They're all chatting about something inane, the sound washing over Harry as he takes it all in. The War's been over for a good few months but never has he just sat and thought about things like he is now.
It’s the first summer after the War ends and to everyone’s surprise the bright summer days make them feel young and wild and free like they should have been. They- Harry and Hermione and Ron and the others, Gryffindor and Slytherin and Ravenclaw alike stumble out of the dusty, bloodstained halls of the war-torn school they grew up in and into the world, suddenly anew, full of light thanks to them. They look at each other and breathe clean fresh air, everything bursting into colour because the War is over, the War is over, look around. Hermione, always the bold one, is the one to take the first step and it breaks them all out of their trances. She takes Ron by the hand, and he reaches for Harry’s and Harry grabs Draco’s and so on and so forth and suddenly they’re running, moving like one entity, and the world starts spinning again.
It’s 1998. Voldemort is dead, and there will be time to grieve and face the past later. Right now, it’s time to heal and laugh and just be. Draco turns eighteen and it reminds them just how young they truly are, and they act their age like they hadn’t been able to before, making jokes and singing songs off-key.
The end of the War looks like this: Harry (soldier, martyr, savior) looks at his friends and something explodes in his chest, too big for his ribcage, burning in his lungs.
Harry always thought his story would end like this: Harry Potter grew up alone and unloved in a dark cupboard too small for any child and died one unremarkable morning. Then the story changed when he was pulled into the world and suddenly all eyes are on him and there’s magic he didn’t know he had at his fingertips. And they say that he is special, but really, didn’t you read the first chapter? He’s not worth anything, just a broken thing left in the dark and covered in dust. The new ending would go like this, written about in every newspaper but never telling the truth: Harry Potter the Savior, died at seventeen fighting a war he never asked to be in.
And now? He’s just Harry, friend to Hermione and Ron and Luna and Ginny and even Draco Malfoy. Harry, the one who forgot about his toast and set the toaster on fire one morning, who’s a surprisingly good football player, and most of all he’s Harry, who’s earnest and loyal, who loves his friends. Who is, inexplicably, loved by his friends.
He breathes in the comforting smell of home-cooked food and Ron's cologne, Hermione's hair, and lets it expand in his lungs until he can't hold it anymore and then he lets it out real slow, something in him settling. If the story ended right there, with Ron’s arm over his shoulder and Hermione giggling like mad next to him at something someone said, he would be happy.
He settles in closer to Ron and Hermione and joins the conversation.
