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DH - Alternate Ending

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“ ‘… And quite honestly,’ he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, ‘I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”
- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K Rowling.



Ron and Hermione offered him tired smiles, perhaps only just now realizing themselves how truly exhausted they really were. They had all just been through a terrible ordeal, and no one more than Harry deserved to get away from it all and rest.

Indeed, there was not only a sandwich awaiting Harry’s return to Gryffindor Tower on the unloosed blankets of his bed, but quite a small feast. But, with a bold
aching which stole his breath and made him light-headed, he could not conjure the energy to even pay it much attention. Without so much as a second thought, he blearily cleared the bed of the food and, for the first time June previous, collapsed on his achingly familiar Gryffindor bed, and fell asleep before hitting the unused pillow. He was not even conscious long enough to hear Ron’s echoing collapse. And for the first time in forever, the deep sleep into which Harry fell could not and would not be punctured by the terrible dreams and visions which had haunted Harry’s sleeps ever since he could remember. It was as if his brain and body were offering him this gift of unhindered sleep for the banishment of the source which had stolen this rest from him for so very long.

The morning dawned as brightly as the morning before and more beautiful than every Harry could appreciate. The cloudless blue sky soothed Harry’s exhausted eyes, exhausted not only from fatigue, but of his experiences. The birds sang happily, relieving the tension of the suffering battleground, as the light breeze kissed the scarred grass with whispered wishes of healing.

Harry and Ron both dressed in a comfortable silence, merely happy to be back in the dorm room and glad to have been given the opportunity to enjoy it together before leaving it behind for good. Harry glanced at his bedside table and, on a last minute impulse, grabbed both of the wands lying on top of the mahogany surface and pocketed them beneath his robes.

They made their way down to the common room, not expecting to confront too many fellow students, as it was just after dawn and the golden-red light of the sunrise was just beginning to leak through the windows. So it was with cries of surprise when they found two blurs rushed at them, one streaked with red and the other brown, and their arms full.

A delicious flowery scent attacked Harry’s nose; the scent which he knew so well and loved. He looked down into a mane of shining red heir and his heart lurched. He wrapped his arms fully around Ginny and buried his face in her hair. He was finally able to hold the girl he loved, from whom he had been denying himself throughout all of the chaos of the last year.

“Hermione, it – it’s alright!” Ron said, slightly laughing at the girls’ outbursts. Hermione let go of him and stepped back. She looked as if she was going to scold the red-head for a moment, the ghost of a glare crossing her features. But then she let loose and tears filled her eyes and she smiled, letting out a little laugh of her own.

“Yes,” she said, “I – I suppose it is now. It’s finally over,” she turned and beamed at Harry. Their Saviour.

Harry turned back to Ginny, a strange yearning towering up inside of him. “Ginny…?” he whispered.

She finally turned her face up to him, again reminding him how much he had missed being with her, how much he really cared for this girl.

And without saying anything, the two of them leaned into each other and met in a fiery kiss, much like the first one that Ron and Hermione had shared in the heat of the battle the night before, which now seemed so far away. Harry tightened his arms in euphoria around Ginny and deepened the kiss, seemingly unaware that his two best friends were gaping at them. Well, Ron was anyways.

“Oi!” Ron yelled out, looking disgusted. Hermione slapped him on the shoulder. She had melted at the intense sight in front of her, reminiscent of her first kiss with Ron. Ron though, seemed to be as oblivious as ever.

“Harry, Ginny, we’ll meet you down in the Great Hall for breakfast,” Hermione called out. She then pulled a protesting Ron out of the portrait hole and onto the seventh floor landing, looking back at her two friends with a warm smile.

It wasn’t too long before Harry and Ginny, both blushing a little bit, arrived at the large gold doors to enter the Great Hall. Harry could honestly say that he did not know what to expect to see on the other side of the massive doors. How many students would be sitting in the four house tables that he had grown up with? Would there be children grieving over their losses, too young and innocent to have already tainted hearts? Had any of the younger students, evacuated for safety two nights before, returned to see the damage that had been inflicted upon Hogwarts, host to the chaos and death of the Final Battle? A soft voice broke into his thoughts.

“Well, only thing to do now is go in and see for ourselves,” Ginny said. With a comforting smile, she took his hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Harry nodded, and without shame, let himself swell with happiness at the thought that he wasn’t going to be alone anymore. Not with Ginny by his side.

Together, they pushed open the entrance doors to the Great Hall. Harry braced himself for the worst, and was met with a very welcome sight. The Hall was full of people; not only children of every age currently attending Hogwarts, but some of their parents too. The Hall, and the school, had been open to any parents wishing to see their children, their children who had fought so bravely to protect the school and their world, and to all of the underage witches and wizards wishing to return until the end of the school year. Though Harry could not deny himself of the terrible fact of all the children he did NOT see, and could remember seeing before, the Hall was still greater filled than he could have hoped for.

They had barely made it two steps in before Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood appeared in front of them. Ginny ran and embraced Luna, who appeared to be very surprised by this gesture, rarely bestowed upon her, however she quickly reciprocated to her friend.

Neville beamed at Harry. “Harry! You – You were absolutely brilliant yesterday morning, and last night!” he said ecstatically. Some of the people sitting near to them shouted “Hear Hear!” and “Good show, mate!”

“So were you Neville! I couldn’t have done it without you,” Harry replied, grinning broadly. “The way you killed Nagini… very impressive!”

Neville looked pleased at the praise but confused for a second.

Harry winked at him. “I saw everything when I was pretending to be dead, you know, at Voldemort’s feet.”

“Ah! That was bloody scary Harry! I really thought you’d died!”

Harry shook his head. “Nah…I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, remember? And anyways, you put on a good show of standing up to Voldemort and then killing his pet.” Harry had never been more proud of his friend the previous morning (had it really been only been for a little more than twenty four hours that they were free from Voldemort’s reign of terror?) when he had been the first and only person to step forward from the throng of people, to have been able to stand to be mere feet away from the man that they all despised and feared, and to have mustered up the courage to aim faithful to Harry’s last wish of him and destroy Voldmemort’s snake, and in doing so, the second to last Horcrux

Neville grinned sheepishly. “Nah,” he said with confidence, “he wasn’t all too scary. A bit pathetic, really.” They both laughed. The laugh came so much easier to Harry than he would have never expected it to.

The four of them made their way along to the Gryffindor table, sitting down in their usual spots beside Ron and Hermione. Luna soon left to the Ravenclaw table to be with her housemates. Seeing the food on the table, sitting on the familiarly shining golden plates, caused a rush of gratitude and remorse to surge up inside of Harry’s chest, almost choking him. He had not forgotten about Dobby, the bravest house-elf he had ever known, who had suffered a death by the dagger of Bellatrix Lestrange, who, Harry acknowledged with grim pleasure, had been killed in a most impressive display by Molly Weasley. Harry also remembered the determined and malicious vigour with which the house elves of Hogwarts had fought against Lord Voldemort’s Death Eaters. With ravenous force, Harry ate the food presented to him, knowing full well that, in doing so, it was the best way to repay their altruistic actions. And not at all because he was desperately hungry.

After Harry had consumed enough to feel content with himself, he remembered on what account he had chose to act on the impulse he had had that morning to grab the wands. Knowing with a gut instinct that they must be in the Great Hall with their son, he politely excused himself from the table. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the hawthorn wand, holding it loosely in his fingers.

Spotting the three unmistakable platinum blonde heads stationed not too far from where he was currently standing by the Gryffindor table, Harry, with some of the attention of the Great Hall trained on him, casually strode over to the Slytherin House table.

Pansy Parkinson, he noticed, was nowhere to be seen. He was not sorry for this. Her last words that had rung through the Great Hall, spurring the three houses to turn against Slytherin for an intense moment and protection of Harry, would not be forgotten by him any time soon. He approached the family of three, the back of Lucius Malfoy’s head facing him with a plate of bleach blonde hair, and Narcissa Malfoy’s her face half blocked from his view. She was the first to notice they had a guest and straightened her posture at the sight of Harry, ending her attentions with her son, perhaps out of desire to keep up appearances, though things like superficiality were unimportant to Harry now. Lucius turned around and looked slightly shaken to see Harry Potter standing a few feet behind him. But it was neither of them whom Harry wished to see. More people were now paying attention, the silence growing and questioning whispers beginning to arise.

Draco leant over his father and saw Harry. Harry walked around the table and stopped in front of Draco. He met his slightly worried gaze full on with his determined one. Before any of the Malfoy’s could question his behaviour, Harry held out the hawthorn wand in his palm, lying horizontally as a sign that he posed no threat, nor did he wish to start a conflict. He was merely a bringer of the wand.

“This is yours,” Harry quite bluntly stated.

Draco glanced down at the wand and then back up at Harry’s straight face. He closed his eyes, almost wearily as if tired, and then rose from his seat to stand in front of Harry.

“Whatever happened to ‘Winners Keepers’ Potter?” he asked with little scorn in his voice and the ghost of his trademark sneer. His parents watched the exchange showing slightly worried expressions, remaining silent and stationary. Draco continued. “You won it from me. You’ve used it. It’s chosen you.” He seemed hurt by the words coming out from his own mouth. He started at the wand in Harry’s palm as if it had betrayed him.

“I can give it back to you, willingly, and it’ll be yours again just as much as it had always been, and was briefly for me, Draco,” Harry said, not bothering, or wanting, to revert to the boy’s last name in the presence of his father. Harry felt quite through with the rivalry he had in the past associated with the boy now in front of him, feeling as if the animosity had been buried with the Dark Lord who had originally roused them. Harry, when he woke up that morning, knew with all of his sincerity, the he wanted to make a fresh start with everything.

Draco seemed slightly shocked at the use of his first name, as did his parents. He met Harry’s determined glare. His right hand twitched, as if he was going to grab the offered wand. He sighed. “No Potter, you’ve won it fair and  -“

Anger suddenly ran through Harry. “Look, I’ve already got a perfectly good wand, and I don’t need two!” he said with a tone of finality that had rendered Draco silent for a moment.

“Why?” he finally asked, his incredulous expression matching the question.

That one word spurred Harry on more than anything. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Why?’ Because I don’t care anymore about stupid rivalries! Vol…,” - he thought that saying the recently defeated Dark Lord may still be taboo among his friends, - “You-Know-Who’s gone now! Who bloody cares about who’s better than who? We sure as hell know that Blood Status doesn’t matter anymore! Slytherin, Gryffindor, it bloody sodding does not matter! We’re all the same, just… just people, kids, all trying to learn how to control the magic that we have! Just take your bloody wand so that you can at LEAST do THAT!” he ended with a shout, breathing heavily. He was fully aware of the many pairs of eyes upon him, the whole Great Hall was now attentive, but his eyes did not leave the blond in front of him.

Harry stepped forward at the same time Draco did, meeting in the middle. Harry glanced at the boy and was shocked to see him glare with determination in his eyes. The Hall waited with baited breath.

“Fine, Potter,” Draco said, though somewhat coldly. He raised his hand and set it palm up, next to Harry’s in a contrast of pale skin to tanned skin.

“Okay then,” said Harry, still glaring, and happy that he had won. Then, with an air of finality and authority he felt he deserved to have, he placed the hawthorn wand down in the pale hand. They both stepped back in alarm as their rather large audience erupted with applause. Draco looked around, highly surprised, appearing to have only just noticed that everyone had been watching the exchange in rapt attention this whole time.

Harry grinned. He nodded to Draco and then to his parents. “Well, bye then. See you again sometime.” Draco gave a short nod of his head in response, and watched Harry return from whence he came, realizing that something epic had just happened… He had grown some respect for this messy, black haired boy. Well, he had saved the world and lived to tell the tale… Draco supposed he could give the boy SOME credit to where it was due. He then found himself wishing that he would, in fact, see the boy in the future.

Hermione’s shining eyes were full of pride as she greeted his return. “Harry! I completely agree with you! Death to all rivalries! Oh, I could go and hug a Slytherin right now!” She expressed happily.

Beside her, Ron grimaced as though in pain, or having just eaten something particularly dreadful. “That’s pushing it, Hermione,” he said, then turned to Harry. “Wait to go, peace maker.” Harry grinned at him as the redhead thumped him on back.

Hermione laughed. “Well, yes, perhaps you’re right Ron. That is pushing it…”

“Still though, Dumbledore would be very proud of you Harry,” said Ginny, smiling up at him.

“Well I should bloody well hope so, after all that,” said Harry good-naturedly. They all laughed.

Harry had just taken a sip of his pumpkin juice, when, barely swallowed, it was spurted out of his mouth at the words that had just come out of Ginny’s mouth proceeding her comment about Dumbledore.

“W-WHAT?!” He wiped some juice off his lip.

“I said, you’re a father now,” she repeated, failing to hide the sadness that leaked into her voice, remembering the events which had caused Harry's sudden fatherhood.

He looked aghast at Ginny, then down to her belly.
“What do you… oh.” He then realized what she was talking about, looking at the slightly torn faces of Hermione and Ron to confirm his suspicions.

“Ted Lupin…” he said, barely above a whisper. In all of the commotion and Post-War relief that had recently flooded the castle, Harry had let slip-of-the-mind that, before Lupin had died with Nymphadora, the man had made Harry the Godfather of his son. Harry, with the weight of the responsibility to take care of a newborn crashing down upon him, suddenly knew how Sirius must have felt when he too had realized this same thing after learning of James and Lily’s, his own parents, deaths.

He gulped down the nervousness constricting his throat. He could never get a break could he? Though, defeating the Dark Lord to caring for an infant was an unusual transition, with no zone between in which to recover. But Harry knew. He though, desperately ignorant to the throes of being a father, much less being suddenly thrust into the responsibility, knew he could not on any circumstances let down Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

Hermione fixed him with a pleading stare and took his right hand in both of hers from across the table. “We’ll help you Harry, we’ll be there for you and Ted,” she turned to Ginny, “and you as well, Ginny.”
“Blimey,” said Ron. “Just defeated the Darkest wizard of our age and now he’s already father! Barely even eighteen yet, too.” He whistled in appreciation of this incredibly feat.

“Yeah, thanks Ron,” Harry said sarcastically.

Ginny nodded to Hermione, her eyes fiery and shining. “Right, well being a mother can’t be harder than what we’ve just been through, right?”

Harry embraced her tightly and kissed her right temple.

“Ginny, Ginny, I love you SO much,” he said with earnest into her forehead. Knowing that she would be there with him, for years to come, made him happier than he would never have thought possible. She blushed and hugged him back. They heard a laugh to the right.

Hermione favoured Ron with a glance nothing short of skeptical.

“Ronald, to see you not getting into a huff is surprising enough, but what is so funny?”

He only laughed harder at her inquisition. “Haha! Oh, nothing, just having a mental image of a certain stressed Dark Wizard trying to feed a berserk infant in a high-chair.”

Harry and Hermione’s lips twitched upwards, but they were trying to decide if this was highly amusing, or very disturbing, while Ginny fully appreciated the joke and laughed along with her older brother.  Harry and Hermione merely shrugged and wrote it off as another “sibling moment”. Both being the only child in their families, they had never really understood these moments, not that they minded in the slightest, of course. They were a bit freaky at times…

Professor Minerva McGonagall had saw it fit to deem upon herself the title of the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, decision which had been reached with the full sympathy from anyone who had been witness in the Great Hall, the staff being the most agreeable to this improvement, because after all, it had been McGonagall who had replaced Dumbledore at the end of June the previous year, following his funeral. For the rest of the morning, anyone who remained inside the building, and willing to lend a hand, provided magical and manual aid in repairing what could be repaired of the ancient building. McGonagall had, as it appeared, deemed it unnecessary to start up the classes again, when so little of the year was left to them. More time would be wasted with all the preparations than would be spent on the actual teaching. With teams of people spread about the castle, walls were reconstructed, tapestries recovered from burns and curse marks, and statues rebuilt. Of course, one morning of hard work could only scratch the surface of what needed to be accomplished to bring Hogwarts back to life.

However, news that was surprisingly relevant to the morning’s subject of discussion came to the trio and Ginny. The four of them had been working on cleaning and repairing the painting of the knight Sir Codagan, much to their displeasure at being constantly challenged for sword duels and mocked for their cowardly behaviour when refusal was clear, and other surrounding portraits who wish to be cleaned, when they were approached by the newly appointed Headmistress McGonagall. She looked upon them all kindly.

“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. and Miss Weasley, please if you will, escort me to my office. I would like to discuss matters with the four of you,” she reported, her strict manner as present as ever.

They turned to her and smiled. “Yes, Headmistress!” they choired in ensemble, raising their right hands to their foreheads in a salute and grinning from ear to ear.  McGonagall’s face flushed red.

“Yes… well, move along then,” she said briskly through her grin.
The five of them paraded down the halls to the untouched (suspicions of very strong Repelling Charms being employed touched across Harry’s mind) and magnificent stone gargoyle that was the entrance to the current Head’s office. Harry had to admit, he was curious as to what the new password would be. He wondered if McGonagall also had a passion for uniquely named Wizarding sweets. As it stood, this was not the case.

“Prosperity,” McGonagall recited to the gargoyle in a commanding and quipping tone. It at once sprang into motion, rotating up and revealing the winding spiral staircase and admitting their little group rightful entry. The four followed McGonagall’s tall figure up the old staircase and entered the familiar circular office. Harry’s eyes fell immediately to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, his magical blue-eyes forever twinkling, even the old paint used to represent this famously powerful could not stifle the magic lurking in the pools of his wizened blue, spell-bounding, eyes.

McGonagall, now seated in the chair, behind the office’s grandest desk laden with many magical instruments, conjured up three cushy armchairs with a flourish of her wand. Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny recited their thanks and accepted the purpose of the chairs gratefully.

McGonagall favoured them all with a look softened through her own eyes. “I cannot express with words enough how much I, and the rest of the Wizarding community, appreciate what you four have accomplished. Not only in the events of last night and yesterday morning, but of the last seven years. Yes Ginverva, I am also addressing you, as you have played a large role in Harry’s life and we all thank you for it. As Professor Dumbledore always stood by, love is man’s greatest power, and you have strengthened the source to which Harry needs the most.” At this, Harry felt slightly guilty from neglecting her as he had throughout the past year. But McGonagall spoke on. “I shall overlook the enormous and quite troubling fact that the three of you chose to not attend the school this year, in your final educational year, even a year as crucial in educational standing as the final one. Had the professings continued as normally planned, this would have been the year of your N.E.W.T level examinations.” At this, Hermione gave a terrified gasp and her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. McGonagall smiled. “Do not worry, Miss Granger. I am sure, had you the opportunity to write the examinations, I am not lying when I say that the results would have been far more than exemplary.” Hermione flushed scarlet. Professor McGonagall turned her attention back to Harry. “Mr. Potter… Harry. You are perhaps the bravest seventeen-year-old that I have ever had the good graces to meet, much more to pass on educational teachings to you. What you have accomplished, again both in the recent days, and last seven years,… well, I think you know without me saying it,” she veered off.

For these words to be coming from McGonagall, Harry was so touched by what she had told him that he could not think of anything appropriate enough to reply with right away. Finally, he settled on, “Thank you. I really, well, Ron and Hermione, they’ve stuck with me from the beginning,” he finished lamely.

McGonagall gave the aforementioned affectionate looks and nodded. “And now, I have some news for you, more significantly, Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter, though you two may stay if you so wish,” he added to Ron and Hermione. They didn’t move so much as a millimeter out of their conjured chairs. McGonagall gave a short nod and suddenly spoke loudly in the direction of the door.

“You may enter, Mrs. Tonks.”

The four teenagers turned in their seats as Andromeda Tonks entered the room, appearing a little worse for ware. Harry’s heart surged out to her. She had just lost her husband and daughter, and son-in-law for that matter, in the War. But then, with Hermione’s gasp, his attention flew to something that the woman, now walking towards them, was holding delicately in her arms. Barely a month old, little Ted Lupin, son to Nymphadora and Remus J. Lupin, was wrapped securely in a blanket, held in the arms of his grandmother.

A fifth chair materialized beside them, beside Harry, and Mrs. Tonks, with Ted comfortabely in her grasp, sat in the newly conjured chair. Harry had not yet been this close to Tonks’ mother before; their previous and only encounter being right after Harry had crash-landed into a pond following the near death experience he had had. Upon seeing her then, he had immediately mistook her for her sister Bellatrix Lestrange, so close was her resemblance, and had withdrew his wand with a shout for his defense. But now, seeing her right beside him, he noticed more of Tonks and Narcissa in her features than he did Bellatrix, and that provided comfort to him.

Professor McGonagall spoke in her sharp voice. “Now Harry, as I understand it, Lupin bestowed upon you the title and role of this child’s Godfather, am I correct?”

Harry’s reply was a silent nod. He looked at the baby in the indigo blanket, decorated with tiny silver stars zooming around, and saw the little face emerge, big round eyes soaking up everything in the office, gazing in awe and natural infant curiousity. There was a patch of bright turqoise hair upon its pink, round head. Harry’s stomach churned. This was too soon… much too soon. Harry knew next to nothing about the first thing to do with raising a child! Why him, why not someone else, why –

“Harry! Are you listening?”

“Huh? What? Er…” Harry blinked, trying to focus on reality.

“Pay attention,” Ginny hissed at him.

“Right…” Harry muttered. “Sorry.”

The Headmistress spoke with a serious tone inflicted into her words. “Now Harry, this is a vast responsibility, especially on the shoulders of a boy who is barely of age.”

“I’m eighteen next month!” Harry cried indigenously, unable to help himself. He had been of age for almost a year now!

McGonagall’s eyelids drooped in annoyance. “Surely you do you not believe that one year does justice to the title of an experienced wizard. And yes, I am aware of the fact that you have just defeated the Darkest Wizard of our time, and I am afraid to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Potter, but dueling as no relevance whatsoever to raising a child. Properly.” She ended with a stern glare at Harry, rendering him quite speechless for a moment. Harry then wondered whether or not Minerva McGonagall had ever had children. Somehow, he doubted it. But that did not relinquish the convincing truth of that statement any more than it did comfort him.

“Er, Professor, well, I don’t really think that I’m, or any of us, is ready to-to” He gesticulated with his hands towards the bundle of blankets in the arms of the woman seated beside him, at a loss for words.


Ginny was gazing fondly at the baby, a motherly look dawning her features. “Oh, I don’t know Harry, we could take him to Shell Cottage, or to the Burrow, and live with him there. If not, they could look after him for a while…” she suggested, still gazing at the small life in the blankets.
Harry thought on that for a second, but then another idea came up in his mind.
“Hermione, do you think it would be safe to return to Grimmauld Place?” Before she had even opened her mouth in an obvious retort, McGonagall stole her reply with ferocity.

“Absolutely not! I completely forbid it! A mere thirty hours after the war has ended, Mr. Potter? Yes, Death Eaters are being captured and put into Askaban with great haste, however that does mean-“

Boldly, Harry cut off her rant. “Okay, alright! It was only a suggestion… we’ll wait.” It was plainly true, he decided. There was the very real chance that, when they had so carelessly ended their mission at the Ministry of Magic back in October, the Death Eater named Yaxley had returned with them and Grimmauld Place, Order HQ, had been revealed through the brief contact he had shared with Hermione. It was a likely chance that Grimmauld Place was now laced with booby-traps, some of them even fatal. It would be highly unsafe to waltz into the once very secure headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, when the Death Eaters, those who still remained, possibly knew about it.

Andromeda spoke up then, her voice soft and frail sounding, less strong than when Harry had heard it before in her own home. “I could take Teddy back to the house for a little while… until, until Harry and young Miss. Weasley are ready to take him in, as their Godson.”

Harry considered this option. It really did seem like the brightest light in their horizon. All four of them, though willing to help, were simply not yet ready to care for an infant of barely a month old. Especially when the genetic make-up of the child was so uncertain. They knew the child possessed the natural shape-changing abilities of a Metamorphmagas, but what of the father’s blood? Had, like Lupin expressed so deep in his regret, the boy inherited the corrupted blood of the werewolf? Harry would need to research that further… (Or get Hermione to, as he knew she would only be too keen). He turned to Ginny, seeking her opinion.
“Ginny, what do you think?” Harry asked her calmly.

Ginny chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating what Andromeda Tonks had suggested. The baby would be spending time with it’s Grandmother, as opposed to Bill and Fleur, or her own mother, with whom the baby had next to no, or none, blood connection to any. Being with his Grandmother, until the time when Ginny and Harry could together take him in as their Godson, looked like the best option in her opinion. So she and Harry, silently, had agreed on a solution dealing with possibly their first most important decision of their lives.

She looked up at Harry and immediately, had the gut feeling, that someday, he would make a wonderful father. But now was not that time, and they silently passed the message to each other with their eyes as to their agreement. She took his hand and turned to look at the woman. “Mrs. Tonks, we would be honoured if you would look after our Godson, until we are ready to raise him ourselves.”

Ron beamed at his younger sister, who suddenly seemed so grown up to him. Here she was, sitting with his best mate in the world, making one of the most important decisions of her life. He found Hermione’s hand and squeezed it gently, glad to have someone to make important decisions with him, too.

Tears swelled up in the eyes of Andromeda Tonks and she gave Ginny and Harry a watery smile. “You are both so brave, so wise. Thank you for letting me hold onto him a little while longer…” She did not need to say what they all heard in her unspoken words. The little baby in her arms was the only connection she had left to her beloved daughter, and the only one to keep her company for a little while longer.

Upon realizing this, Harry felt no guilt in again knowing that he was not yet ready to raise a child of his own, much less somebody else’s. But, when the time came, he knew he would be able to overcome and conquer this obstacle in his life. He put an arm around Ginny’s slender shoulders. As long as this young woman was in his life, along side him with his two most treasured friends he could ever ask for, he would be able to do that, among the many other things he felt life would throw at him. And anyways, Ted was only one child that would eventually come into his life to be raised at his care. Harry felt he would be able to handle just one. But he noticed, with slight nervousness, the look in Ginny’s eyes as she gazed down at little Teddy, squirming in his blankets. The spark in her eye said something else entirely, and did not aid to Harry’s comfort at imagine Teddy to being the only child in his household. Oh dear.
spooooiiilleeerrrs Well, not really anymore.. it's been such a long time since this book came out..

Anyways, I wrote this a day after the Deathly Hallows came out, because I couldn't sleep after I read it, because I was too emotionally DISTRESSED. And angry at the stupid epilogue. So I wrote my OWN ending to the saga (before the ridiculous 19 year gap -_-).

I'm just posting this cuz I thought I had already done so, and I'm boooooooored.

Oh and beware, it's extremely corny. Like, to the max.

And don't worry, no slash. *cries*

Disclaimer: I’m not even going to pretend I own anything related to Harry Potter, with the exception of the creative rights to the plot of this little fanfiction. J.K Rowling is a Goddess among authors, and she is not to be tampered with.

Hey guys I finally went through it and edited all the typos.. hopefully it's less confusing now.
© 2008 - 2024 incaseyouart
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the song 'Kelsey' by Metro Station goes great with this song. great fanfic though! awesomness!