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nettedtangible · 7 months

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Epilogue, HP Microfic, 2554 words.

We all hate the epilogue, so I re-wrote it. Enjoy.

Harry stood in the kitchen of one of his favourite places in the world, and noted that, for the first time he could remember, the Burrow was silent. He placed his hands on the benchtop and gazed out the window at the small and sombre band of people gathered in the overgrown yard.

It had been four days since the battle of Hogwarts; days which had felt to be some of the longest of Harry’s life, bar perhaps, some of his more arduous stints at Privet Drive. He hung his head, diverting his eyes from the scene in front of him. Behind him he heard a noise, and turning, saw Ginny emerge from the staircase, her eyes red, though her face was set firm. He had seen that fiery resolve in her face many times before and reached out for her hand. She took it and, with a gesture of her head, indicated that it was time for them to join the others.

They walked through the backdoor and into the garden, the sky pearly grey above them to mark the occasion. The Weasleys were gathered around a freshly dug hole in the ground, beside which stood a rough-hewn coffin. Harry stole himself as he looked at it and turned his head, taking in those around him.

Mr and Mrs Weasley stood at the head of the grave, Mrs Weasley sobbing into Mr Weasley’s shoulder, whose face was set into a mask of stony grief. To their right stood Andromeda Tonks, stroking the face of the blue haired baby she carried in her arms. Harry closed his eyes, remembering heavily Lupin and Tonks’ funeral of the previous day. It had been a small affair, and a devastating setting for Harry to meet his godson, feeling as he had held him for the first time, an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the fate of his parents.

Standing near Andromeda were Bill and Fleur, Fleur resting against Bill’s chest, the picture of regal sadness. Charlie stood beside them, one arm slung around Percy's shoulders, eyes downcast. Near the foot of the grave stood George, flanked by Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan. Harry thought that he had never seen a person look more lost. George was staring into the grave intently, as if filled with longing to join his twin, as he had in all other adventures. Angelina was clutching his arm and sniffing with repressed sobs, while Lee simply looked shocked, as though expecting Fred to leap from behind a bush at any moment.

Next to Harry stood Ron and Hermione, locked in a tight embrace. Tears were dripping off the end of Ron’s long nose as he buried his head in Hermione’s bushy hair, her own face wet from crying. Slightly off to the side sat Hagrid, who clutched a bottle of firewiskey in one hand and an overlarge plaid handkerchief in the other.

Nobody present wore dress robes or had followed in the Muggle tradition of wearing black, their grief was worn on their faces and banished all need for ceremony.

Harry exchanged a glace with Ron, and found he had no words of comfort to offer. Gripping tighter to Ginny’s hand, he turned to Mr Weasley. A sense of quiet expectation settled over the crowd.

Mr Weasley stepped forward, disengaging gently from a still shaking Molly, and raised his wand. Softly, the coffin was lifted from the ground and slowly lowered into the open grave. Harry heard it land with a soft thud, the finality of which shook him to his core. George turned his face, looking away from the grave for the first time.

‘My son,’ began Mr Weasley, voice clear, though slightly unsteady, ‘was a man unlike any other,’ he gave George a small look and continued, ‘save for his partner in crime and in life.’ A small gasp of mirth seemed to be wrenched from the mourners, as George began to cry in earnest.

‘I will never be able to understand why it was that he was taken from us, as so many were, by this terrible war,’ continued Mr Weasley, ‘but I do know, that he died because he fought. That he was brave, and rash, and would never, for one second, have let the fight go on without him.’ Some more tortured chuckles were released from the crowd.

‘Fred, I will love you until the day I die, as will everyone here. But I know that you walk beside us, possibly tying our shoelaces together when we’re not looking…’ another gasping laugh.

‘Fred died fighting for what was right, and to protect the people he loved, and each of us must honour him by going forth and living our lives with love in our hearts and laughter in our days.’

Harry’s face felt hot and tears prickled his eyes as a smile broke through the pain. Mr Weasley stepped back from the grave and raised his wand, ready to fill the grave with the adjacent pile of dirt when suddenly, a strange thumping noise echoed over the garden.

‘Arthur-,’ said Mrs Weasley, sharply, grasping Mr Weasley’s arm and staring into the grave, ‘listen…’ The thumping sound was growing louder and more pronounced, and every onlooker shuffled forward to peer into the grave, looking at the coffin intently.

With a blast the sound of a canon, the coffin burst open, and explosions suddenly filled the air. For a mad second, Harry thought that Fred had come charging out, but soon realised that hundreds of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes fireworks were pouring out of the coffin, emitting loud cracks and bangs and expanding out of the grave. Dragons and pinwheels rocketed up into the overcast sky, and letters forming the words “saint like” danced around their heads. Harry whipped his head to look at George, who was grinning widely through a sheen of tears. He looked around at his family, who, like Harry, had turned to him, and shrugged,

‘We had a pact,’ he said simply, looking sheepish and heartbroken all at once. A laugh rang out among the crowd, loud and shrill. Harry looked around to discover that, unexpectedly, it was emanating from Mrs Weasley. She was laughing so hard that her body shook, and she fell to her knees, stroking the grass at the very head of the Grave, peering into the coffin lovingly, her laughs mingled with sobs.

At this, though they had been momentarily frozen in surprise, the rest of the party began to laugh too, haltingly at first, through with increased fervour. Ron was smiling despite himself and running his hands over his disbelieving face. Lee and Angelina were beaming as they watched rockets and hippogriffs soar above them. Teddy was staring at the fireworks completely enrapt, and Bill and Charlie were smirking, exchanging knowing looks at their brothers’ antics.

Harry felt a relaxing of the tightness in his chest as he admired the colours and sparks of the superb firework display and knew that Fred wanted them to celebrate him, not mourn. He laughed as one of the fireworks performed a particularly rude gesture, which, again unexpectedly, made Molly redouble with laughter.

The group laughed and cried and traded stories about Fred as the dusk turned the sky to a faint pink and the fireworks flew all around them and off into gathering night.

Harry followed the others as they trouped inside, the Burrow feeling warmer now than it had all day. Mr Weasley lit a fire with his wand and promptly began distributing firewiskey, while Mrs Weasley busied herself in the kitchen, wiping her eyes on her apron as she went. Hagrid, having brought up the rear and squeezed himself arduously through the door, now sat on the hearth, swigging liberally at his flagon and telling Angelina about a time that he had discovered Fred and George in the Forbidden Forest during one of his visits to Aragog.

‘Never seen a more meddlin’ pair ‘an these two I reckon!” he said, his words slurred slightly. ‘’cept you lot.’ he added, gesturing the flagon accusingly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all exchanged sheepish smiles.

Mrs Weasley brought out copious amounts of food and they passed the evening feasting on delicious mince pies and treacle tart as they swapped increasingly rude stories about Fred and George’s famous wrongdoings, some of which took Mr and Mrs Weasley so aback they managed to half-heartedly chide George.

As the night progressed, the conversation turned to the events which had transpired following the downfall of Voldemort. The entire ministry was in disarray according to Mr Weasley.

Harry found himself in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and asking about the state of affairs at Hogwarts when Kingsley Shacklebolt strode through the door.

‘Arthur,’ he said solemnly, shaking Mr Weasley’s hand ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for the funeral, I came as soon as I could, the Ministry’s in absolute chaos.’

‘Of course,’ said Mr Weasley, ‘thank you for coming.’

‘Fred was a good man,’ said Kinglsey gravely, ‘Harry,’ he nodded, shaking Harry’s hand also, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m alright,’ replied Harry, ‘How is everything? Is the Ministry going to be okay?’

‘Oh yes, it’ll be fine,’ said Kingsley, shaking his head, ‘The Death Eaters did a number on it but we’ll have it put right soon enough. In fact,’ he added, ‘we could use your help.’ Harry thought about it, considered everything that the Ministry had put him through and a not dissimilar conversation he had had with Scrimgeour a year prior. Kingsley, sensing his apprehension, shrugged,

‘You don’t have to of course, Merlin knows you’ve done enough, we won’t ask you to die for us again.’ he said with a wry smile. Harry smiled back,

‘Yeah, I’ll help,’ said Harry, ‘It’s not like I can go back to school.’ They had received word the previous day that all seventh years who had fought in the battle of Hogwarts would receive an automatic graduation. Hermione was distinctly forlorn at the news and had already written to Professor McGonagall asking to return in September to complete her N.E.W.T.s. Harry smiled at the thought of Ron’s amused though unsurprised face when she had told them of this.

‘Excellent,’ said Kingsley, ‘we can get your Auror training started right away,’

‘Auror?’ said Harry questioningly, ‘really?’

‘Think you’re under-qualified?’ said Kingsley, smiling, ‘defeated any famous dark wizards lately?’ Harry smiled.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I’d love to be an Auror!’

‘Great!’ said Kingsley, ‘we need a replacement for Dawlish anyway, and in the meantime, there’s plenty of work that needs to be done.’

Kingsley didn’t stay for long after that. He talked briefly with Mrs Weasley, offering his condolences, and shared one drink with the increasingly inebriated party before departing back to the Ministry. On his way out he informed Harry that his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin were safely in the care of the Order and preparing to return to their normal lives, though, he informed him with a jerk of his lips, they could not return to number four, Privet Drive, as the Death Eaters had destroyed it following the battle of the Seven Potters. Harry allowed himself a small smile at the thought of Privet Drive being no more, before bidding Kinglsey farewell and seeing him out into the yard.

After Kinsley had disapparated, Harry lingered in the Garden for some time, looking at the soft mound of dirt marked with a large slab of granite down by the vegetable patch. He leaned on the rough wooden fence and turned his face towards the sky, now clear and smattered with stars. From behind him he heard footsteps but didn’t turn around. He found himself flanked by Ron and Hermione, who joined him in his stargazing.

‘What did Kingsley say?’ asked Ron, resting his elbows on the fence,

‘Wants me to go be an Auror,’ said Harry, considering this avenue further.

‘Cool,’ said Ron admiringly, ‘reckon you’ll be suited to that?’ he shot him a grin.

‘We’ll see I guess,’ said Harry, allowing himself to grin as well. ‘you should join.’ He added, glancing over at Ron.

‘Yeah maybe,’ said Ron thoughtfully looking up at the night sky, ‘I reckon me and Hermione are gonna go to Australia first, find her parents.’ Harry looked over to Hermione, who had a restrainedly hopeful expression.

‘That’s great,’ he said, ‘I hope you find them soon.’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘well I didn’t put any tracking spells on them in case we were captured and tortured, so it’ll be tricky…’ Ron shrugged,

‘Nothing’s tricky for you Hermione! We’ll probably find them in a week. Plus, we gotta get you back for September first.” He smiled teasingly at her.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘I don’t want to miss the train! I might have to enchant a car and fly to school,

‘We didn’t enchant the car!’ said Ron indignantly. Hermione laughed.

‘When will you leave?’ asked Harry, glancing between them.

‘Soon.’ Said Hermione plainly, ‘once the dust has settled a bit,’

‘Take food.’ said Harry, grinning at Ron who made a rude gesture in return. Hermione just snorted derisively.

‘Yes, we’d better.’ she said.

They stood at the fence in silence for a while, comfortable soaking up each other’s company as an awareness that they were about to be going their separate ways for the first time in seven years settled over them.

‘I’ll miss you guys.’ said Harry thickly.

‘Yeah mate,’ said Ron encouragingly, ‘we’ll miss you too,’

‘Of course we will,’ said Hermione, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder, ‘we’ll be back before long.’

‘Yeah,’ added Ron, ‘and we’ll bring you a souvenir, have you heard of these mad things called Kangaroos?’ Harry laughed, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron loped his arm over Harry’s shoulders. Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but he felt as though he could stay forever.

Eventually, the two receded and wordlessly wandered back inside, linking arms as they did so. Harry saw them pass a figure in the doorway and recognised Ginny walking across the grass to him, baby Teddy in her arms. As she drew level with him, he saw that Teddy’s hair was now a vivid shade of orange, the exact colour of the Weasleys’ hair. Smiling, Harry drew them both into an embrace, and kissed Ginny softly, cradling her in his arms and looking down at her and Teddy.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ she said, kissing his cheek delicately.

‘How do you know?’ he asked looking down into her deep brown eyes.

‘I know.’ she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘What now?’ he asked, feeling time opening like a maw before him, threatening to swallow him whole. His task had been accomplished; his all-important purpose fulfilled.

‘Now we live.’ She said, tears shining in her eyes, though none fell. ‘There’s work to be done.’ He smiled at the thought. Though Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Sirius and Dumbledore were gone, Ginny was here, and Teddy was here, and Harry, despite all he had been through, was here.

They embraced under the starry sky as a phoenix firework soared past, emitting sparks and tongues of flame and Harry heard its song in his chest and for the first time in seventeen years, contemplated a future that was totally his own.

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silentauroriamthereal · 7 years

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So I think I read in one of your comments or posts or something a while back that you don't write AUs. But isn't anything that diverges from canon technically an AU? Or is there a different/better definition of AU? This is not meant as a criticism or anything, just an honest desire to discuss how one defines AU. Thanks!

Hi! Good question! Fanfiction comes in three specific genres, with sub-genres within those. They go like this:

1. Extension fic: this is any story that takes the given canon and extends it in a way that is meant to feel consistent with what came before it. I.e., Harry Potter is still a wizard, but now he’s 24 and working as an Auror for the Ministry, or it’s Sherlock universe, set three years after The Final Problem, so Rosie is about four, etc. John has to have a daughter because canon gave him one, and if she’s not in the story, there has to be a reasonable explanation for why not. Most fanfic which is canon-compliant is extension fic.

2. Insertion fic: also called “missing scene”, this is an extra scene written to fill a gap, which in no way conflicts with the other given canonical material. Aka, a story set during the (minimum) six-month gap in His Last Vow, which (at the time of its writing) does not conflict with what came after. Aka, what doesn’t technically count here would be a story where John and Sherlock had sex after the Rizla game in The Sign of Three, because we saw Mrs Hudson and Tessa come with no plausible gap between the events. I’m not at all saying that it’s not on to write such a story (indeed not!), but calling it canon-compliant wouldn’t quite be accurate.

3. Alternate universe: this is anything which diverges from the known canon, whether it’s just in a very small way (John never had a child, say, or the epilogue in the Harry Potter books was never written), where the other events of canon are largely followed, or else a large divergence: Sherlock and John have completely different careers, Sherlock and John are not human, Sherlock and John are basically themselves but in a different time period, Sherlock is an adult but John is a child, etc, etc. The possibilities are literally without limit.

The term “canon-compliant” is generally taken to mean that it was compliant with the known canon at the time of writing. When new canon is released later, it’s not that it necessarily makes everything written before that point non-compliant; it just has to be taken into consideration when the story was written. A story written in 2011 is obviously not going to be compliant with series 3 or 4, for example. Series 3 fix-its won’t be compliant with the events of series 4.

On a final note, what’s considered a “believable” or reasonable extension usually needs to have some solid basis in the given canon. If Mary Morstan is “redeemed”, there needs to be an event in the extension fic that explains how and why, because what the canon gives is a person who kills people for money, including a murder attempt on the title character of the series and a canonical dearth of remorse. Mary cannot suddenly just not be a murderer for hire because the author simply likes the actor or wants to have a nice female character in the story. All of the canonical evidence for Sherlock Holmes being gay cannot be overlooked for convenience. Serious and believable explanations would need to be given (he was sent to “gay healing” camp and brainwashed???) Obviously there’s a huge scope for interpretation here!! There will be as many versions of these characters around as there are people who have seen the show. That’s just how that goes. Some things are givens, though.

And yes, for me personally, whether or not I like it, the canon is the canon, and I do my best to work with that. It’s harder now than it was after series 2 or 3, that’s for sure. As a show watcher, plot gaps are a source of dismay. As a fanfic writer, they’re usually gold mines. In this case, however, there are just so many that one cannot possibly tackle them all in one story. Slowly, slowly, I’ll address them all, or at least most of them… It’s also difficult when the canon itself is inconsistent in terms of characterisation, continuity errors (for instance, John’s blog gives the wedding date as sometime in August, yet the show itself shows the date of May 18th on the invitations. That’s a big difference!). For lots of people, canon compliancy isn’t a huge priority, and that’s fine. It is for me, and that’s a strictly personal choice, of course, but yeah - I found those things particularly frustrating!

Anyway, sorry for rambling. I hope that helps! These genre definitions aren’t mine, by the way - this is just my summary of the definitions that have been around for decades now. Not taking credit! :)

#zaffrefic

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