Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Chapter 30–Epilogue

There was a genteel tap of the knocker and the musical voice asked again, “Where do Vanished objects go?”

Ginny had been attempting, under cover of the reconciliation, to sneak upstairs too.

“You are hardly the first student to covet the diadem,” she said disdainfully.

In spite of my perfidy, she was desperate to see me one more time.

She sent a man who had long loved me, though I spurned his advances, to find me.

“When he saw what he had done, he was overcome with remorse. He took the weapon that had claimed my life, and used it to kill himself. All these centuries later, he wears his chains as an act of penitence...as he should,” she added bitterly.

Hagrid stooped down, bestowed upon Harry a cursory and ribcracking hug, then ran back to the shattered window.

They hurried together along the corridor, Fang lolloping beside them.

And as he reached the end of the passage, the memory of a third stone effigy came back to him: that of an ugly old warlock, onto whose head Harry himself had placed a wig and a battered old tiara.

“Braggarts and rogues, dogs and scoundrels, drive them out, Harry Potter, see them off!”

The furor of the battle died the moment they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them: All was silent.

Flames of abnormal size were pursuing them, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.

It was not normal fire; Crabbe had used a curse of which Harry had no knowledge: As they turned a corner the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them.

Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: Flaming serpents, chimaeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up in the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.

Then a number of huge bangs shook the castle, and a great cavalcade of transparent figures galloped past on horses, their heads screaming with bloodlust under their arms.

In the silence Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled — or was it Voldemort’s sibilant sigh lingering on the air?

It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort’s intention became clear.

The stone Pensieve lay in the cabinet where it had always been: Harry heaved it onto the desk and poured Snape’s memories into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge.

Snape made a small, disparaging noise.

Harry doubted that Snape had even heard her strictures on Mulciber and Avery.

Snape was wringing his hands: He looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him.

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.

Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, “Are you intending to let him kill you?”

“I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year’s league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved — I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.”

Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that he must die.

Someone else was moving not far away, stooping over another prone figure on the ground.

Ripples of cold undulated over Harry’s skin.

Stunned, Harry followed as Dumbledore strode away from where the flayed child lay whimpering, leading him to two seats that Harry had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling.

So that, when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness.

Oh, I had a few scruples. I assuaged my conscience with empty words. It would all be for the greater good, and any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefits for wizards.

If the plans we were making came to fruition, all my dreams would come true.

Reality returned in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother.

“They say he showed remorse in later years, alone in his cell at Nurmengard. I hope that it is true. I would like to think he did feel the horror and shame of what he had done. Perhaps that lie to Voldemort was his attempt to make amends...to prevent Voldemort from taking the Hallow...”

Harry had been expecting it, knew his body would not be allowed to remain unsullied upon the forest floor; it must be subjected to humiliation to prove Voldemort’s victory.

Branches caught at Harry’s hair and robes, but he lay quiescent, his mouth lolling open, his eyes shut, and in the darkness, while the Death Eaters crowed all around them, and while Hagrid sobbed blindly, nobody looked to see whether a pulse beat in the exposed neck of Harry Potter....

“Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!”

He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on...

Harry thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello....

James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

“Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!” whispered Lily ecstatically. “Teddy would really be part of the family then!”