The Last Story
An old woman ran a cloth over her mantle place, an old picture catching her eye. Three young students, famous before their time.
One pair of bright blue eyes watched from behind fluffy red hair as she dusted. Grandma was old. Very old, even for a witch.
It showed in her white hair, her wrinkled hands, and the crowfeet at her eyes. But the arms were still strong and the hand still nimble, giving lion hugs and knowing just how to touch a boo-boo to make the hurt go away.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, Sweetie?”
“Will you tell us a story?”
“Which story would you like?”
“The one about The Boy!”
“Alright then.”
Smiling the old woman settled into her favorite rocking chair, little ones seemed to come out of the woodwork to hear their favorite story.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Once, not so long ago and really, not that far away there was a boy. Now this boy was normal as far as wizards and witches were concerned. But Destiny and Fate had decided that his would be no ordinary life.
He had lived an unremarkable life, until his eleventh birthday. That day, the Boy found out that he was a Wizard. At first he was so very happy, thinking that this world would be so much kinder than the one he knew. Magic had to make everything perfect, didn’t it?
Sadly, he found that magic didn’t make anything better, just made it easier to do things, both good and bad. Still he went to school at the great Castle. There he met another boy with flaming red hair who came from a large family. Another boy tried to tell him that he shouldn’t be friends with the red-headed boy, he was too weak and poor to be a proper friend. The poor little blond didn’t understand that the greatest friends are richest in heart, not money.
So the Boy and the red-headed one became fast friends. Later, they met a girl who was brainy and smart and didn’t really know how to be so without annoying others. Including the boys.
But they did become friends. After all, whacking a troll was bound to make people fast friends, even if they didn’t want to admit it.
Over the years the three friends faced many challenges, the two-faced man, the giant snake, a three-headed dog, the tournament that should not have been, and many, many others. The boys would count the Dances as some of the most horrifying.
Through it all, the Boy had the red-haired boy and the book-happy girl with him.
All the challenges they faced, the people they’d lost in the journey, were to prepare for one final feat.
The Man with No Heart.
This man had been very much like the Boy at one time. But the Boy had not let the things that happen to him make him mean, rather he tried to be what he believed was right and good. The Man with No Heart had let the bad things taint him and take away his hope and love until he acted and destroyed his own heart. The Man would never again know what happiness or love was.
He tried to destroy the Boy when he was a baby, and kept trying to destroy that which he saw as a mockery of his suffering as the Boy grew.
Where the Man had thrown away his goodness and blinded himself to how it made people strong, the Boy embraced it and kept feeding it with the care he had for the family he had made for himself. After all, Friends are the Family we choose for ourselves.
The Boy knew he had to stop the Man with No Heart to keep his family safe.
The red-haired boy and the book-happy girl fought alongside him, following him as he fought the Man’s followers, the White Faces. Sometime in the fighting they had lost track of their friend and began to worry about him. Then a brilliant bright light lit up the field.
In the center of that light stood the Boy and the Man with No Heart.
The man was screaming and yelling, not understanding what was happening.
And the Boy was crying with tears flowing down his face. They didn’t know it then, but the Boy had forgiven the Man for all the pain he had caused.
The Boy looked outside the light to his two Best Friends and smiled a small sad smile.
No one knows exactly what happened in that moment when the Light flared and flew over the field, but when it faded all of the Man’s followers were on the ground, unconscious or dead.
The Two Friends ran to where they had last seen the Boy and met a sight that no one would be able to explain.
There was a great crater where the two had stood. On one side laid the body of a boy, looking much like their friend, eyes closed and hands over his chest as if he were only sleeping. The Man’s heart had been returned to him. He had finally been given Peace.
On the other side laid their friend, tears drying on his cheeks and a small smile on his face. He had died at peace because his family was finally safe.
After the Last Battle a great many people tried to do this or that to what had been the Boy’s and the Man’s, but the Friends had stood up and made it quite clear that everything was handled and their interference was not needed. The Boy had left a letter telling them exactly what to do.
My Friends,
Thank you for standing with me through everything that has happened and I am sorry I cannot be there now. But do not worry, I am with my Mother and father now, and happy.
To the Ministry, do not fret about my line dying out. My Fiery friend has taken a potion to some far-corner of the world that will give some family a chance to have a child that would have otherwise been impossible. The family will be chosen by their hearts and their love, so there will never be any doubt as to whether the child is exactly where it is supposed to be. Be it now or in many years, my line will live on without me.
For my worldly things, I leave it all to my Family and my Friends. Use them well and make sure to keep people smiling, for nothing is worth so much, nor gives such a great return, as a smile.
For the Man I have defeated, he is to be lain to rest in a peaceful place, where nightmares cannot find him. I trust the book-happy girl to know such a place and pick one that is fitting. He has had enough nightmares in life, let him rest now.
For myself, I know that the people will not let me rest unless my place is hidden. Please my Friends, let me be at peace. My red-haired friend, I know you and your family know the old ways to hide a resting place, I entrust you with creating mine.
To all of you, please remember the cost of ignorance and turning a blind-eye. Do not let another child grow in war or wonder why mommy and daddy won’t be coming home again.
Blessed be, all of you.
Sincerely,
The Boy at Peace
The two Friends made sure his wishes were carried out, the Man lain to rest in a field of flowers near the sea, where his spirit could be free and happy. The Boy’s things were divided and given as they believed he would have wished it, and a park built and named in his memory near his childhood home.
Together the red-headed boy and the book-happy girl created a place fir their Friend to rest, forever protected from the eyes of the world and those that would intrude. Before the final spells were cast, the Fiery One appeared and took roost at the entrance to his resting place, determined to guard his friend. In his claws was a mottled white owl’s egg. The Friends knew that egg belonged to the Boy’s White Lady and knew that the gift was the greatest the Bird could give.
With a sad smile and a flick of the wand the Resting Place vanished, never to be seen again.
Some say that the Fiery One took the Resting Place to where it would never be found. Others say that the Boy is not really dead, but resting until he is needed again like King Arthur in his hollow hill.
Many wish to see the Boy again, the one who brought the age of Peace to the Magical World.
Others know better, and pray they never see the Boy because he has earned his rest.
Still, rumors say that one day the Boy will wake to fight again in another war. But until then he rests in his safe place, surrounded by loved ones with his Fiery Friend and his White Lady standing guard.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Smiling at the piles of sleeping children the old woman stood, carefully moving them to their beds where blankets were tucked and foreheads kissed.
So much had changed since the War, much of it for the better. They were the Whitestags, one of the most prominent families for the Light in the Wizarding World. It was one way they could honor him and the sacrifice he made.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it?”
“It always will. But we haven’t forgotten him. Merlin, how could we?”
“I know. I hope that when we finally see each other again he’s happy with what we’ve done with the legacy he left us.”
They were the last left of their generation. Molly had died of old age, surrounded by grand and great-grand children the same night as Arthur. Bill and Fleur had lived full lives, killed in a tomb excavation many years after their own children had children. Charlie had stayed with his dragons, as had his wife when he finally married. Their only child had not wanted for love and made them happy grandparents. The twins were pranking terrors all their days, leaving a rowdy bunch to take on their legacy of laughter. Ginny had become a leader in the Ministry, making changes in the way children were treated and educated. Percy had worked right alongside her, making sure that no terror like Umbridge could ever get back in power.
Moony and Tonks had survived the last battle to raise little Teddy, who himself had made them happy grandparents several times over. Remus had passed while still relatively young for a wizard, the wolf having taken its toll. Tonks had followed years later, having hung on as long as she could so she could tell him all the stories she could gather about their family.
Neville and Luna, only Harry had really seen that one coming, had married not a week after the final battle. Neville had lain down to take a nap in his favorite garden one beautifully sunny day and never woke again. Luna had followed barely a week later, laying the crook of the old willow tree Neville had planted on their first anniversary.
All their school mates had passed on years ago, they the last two to carry the full story. Their lives filled with children and grandchildren and great-great grandchildren.
The old couple walked back to their room and the multitude of pictures covering the walls and shelves. One always drew them on nights like this. The picture was in an unremarkable frame on their nightstand. The image was of a boy with messy black hair, pale skin and round glasses, seemingly asleep. The only movement in the picture was an aura around the boy almost like the aurora borealis.
“I’m tired, Ron.”
“Then let’s rest, Hermione. It’s been a very long day.”
The couple lay down in their bed and went to sleep in each other’s arms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour or so later, the door creaked quietly open. A tiny figure with messy red hair and bright blue eyes looked at her grandparents. They were holding each other, smiling softly and utterly still.
Just as quietly she slipped back out. The little girl let out a quiet sniffle and hugged her doll tight.
“Goodnight Pappy Ron, Grandma Hermy. I hope your dreams and adventures are always good.
And please tell Grandpa Harry thank you from all of us.”
One pair of bright blue eyes watched from behind fluffy red hair as she dusted. Grandma was old. Very old, even for a witch.
It showed in her white hair, her wrinkled hands, and the crowfeet at her eyes. But the arms were still strong and the hand still nimble, giving lion hugs and knowing just how to touch a boo-boo to make the hurt go away.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, Sweetie?”
“Will you tell us a story?”
“Which story would you like?”
“The one about The Boy!”
“Alright then.”
Smiling the old woman settled into her favorite rocking chair, little ones seemed to come out of the woodwork to hear their favorite story.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Once, not so long ago and really, not that far away there was a boy. Now this boy was normal as far as wizards and witches were concerned. But Destiny and Fate had decided that his would be no ordinary life.
He had lived an unremarkable life, until his eleventh birthday. That day, the Boy found out that he was a Wizard. At first he was so very happy, thinking that this world would be so much kinder than the one he knew. Magic had to make everything perfect, didn’t it?
Sadly, he found that magic didn’t make anything better, just made it easier to do things, both good and bad. Still he went to school at the great Castle. There he met another boy with flaming red hair who came from a large family. Another boy tried to tell him that he shouldn’t be friends with the red-headed boy, he was too weak and poor to be a proper friend. The poor little blond didn’t understand that the greatest friends are richest in heart, not money.
So the Boy and the red-headed one became fast friends. Later, they met a girl who was brainy and smart and didn’t really know how to be so without annoying others. Including the boys.
But they did become friends. After all, whacking a troll was bound to make people fast friends, even if they didn’t want to admit it.
Over the years the three friends faced many challenges, the two-faced man, the giant snake, a three-headed dog, the tournament that should not have been, and many, many others. The boys would count the Dances as some of the most horrifying.
Through it all, the Boy had the red-haired boy and the book-happy girl with him.
All the challenges they faced, the people they’d lost in the journey, were to prepare for one final feat.
The Man with No Heart.
This man had been very much like the Boy at one time. But the Boy had not let the things that happen to him make him mean, rather he tried to be what he believed was right and good. The Man with No Heart had let the bad things taint him and take away his hope and love until he acted and destroyed his own heart. The Man would never again know what happiness or love was.
He tried to destroy the Boy when he was a baby, and kept trying to destroy that which he saw as a mockery of his suffering as the Boy grew.
Where the Man had thrown away his goodness and blinded himself to how it made people strong, the Boy embraced it and kept feeding it with the care he had for the family he had made for himself. After all, Friends are the Family we choose for ourselves.
The Boy knew he had to stop the Man with No Heart to keep his family safe.
The red-haired boy and the book-happy girl fought alongside him, following him as he fought the Man’s followers, the White Faces. Sometime in the fighting they had lost track of their friend and began to worry about him. Then a brilliant bright light lit up the field.
In the center of that light stood the Boy and the Man with No Heart.
The man was screaming and yelling, not understanding what was happening.
And the Boy was crying with tears flowing down his face. They didn’t know it then, but the Boy had forgiven the Man for all the pain he had caused.
The Boy looked outside the light to his two Best Friends and smiled a small sad smile.
No one knows exactly what happened in that moment when the Light flared and flew over the field, but when it faded all of the Man’s followers were on the ground, unconscious or dead.
The Two Friends ran to where they had last seen the Boy and met a sight that no one would be able to explain.
There was a great crater where the two had stood. On one side laid the body of a boy, looking much like their friend, eyes closed and hands over his chest as if he were only sleeping. The Man’s heart had been returned to him. He had finally been given Peace.
On the other side laid their friend, tears drying on his cheeks and a small smile on his face. He had died at peace because his family was finally safe.
After the Last Battle a great many people tried to do this or that to what had been the Boy’s and the Man’s, but the Friends had stood up and made it quite clear that everything was handled and their interference was not needed. The Boy had left a letter telling them exactly what to do.
My Friends,
Thank you for standing with me through everything that has happened and I am sorry I cannot be there now. But do not worry, I am with my Mother and father now, and happy.
To the Ministry, do not fret about my line dying out. My Fiery friend has taken a potion to some far-corner of the world that will give some family a chance to have a child that would have otherwise been impossible. The family will be chosen by their hearts and their love, so there will never be any doubt as to whether the child is exactly where it is supposed to be. Be it now or in many years, my line will live on without me.
For my worldly things, I leave it all to my Family and my Friends. Use them well and make sure to keep people smiling, for nothing is worth so much, nor gives such a great return, as a smile.
For the Man I have defeated, he is to be lain to rest in a peaceful place, where nightmares cannot find him. I trust the book-happy girl to know such a place and pick one that is fitting. He has had enough nightmares in life, let him rest now.
For myself, I know that the people will not let me rest unless my place is hidden. Please my Friends, let me be at peace. My red-haired friend, I know you and your family know the old ways to hide a resting place, I entrust you with creating mine.
To all of you, please remember the cost of ignorance and turning a blind-eye. Do not let another child grow in war or wonder why mommy and daddy won’t be coming home again.
Blessed be, all of you.
Sincerely,
The Boy at Peace
The two Friends made sure his wishes were carried out, the Man lain to rest in a field of flowers near the sea, where his spirit could be free and happy. The Boy’s things were divided and given as they believed he would have wished it, and a park built and named in his memory near his childhood home.
Together the red-headed boy and the book-happy girl created a place fir their Friend to rest, forever protected from the eyes of the world and those that would intrude. Before the final spells were cast, the Fiery One appeared and took roost at the entrance to his resting place, determined to guard his friend. In his claws was a mottled white owl’s egg. The Friends knew that egg belonged to the Boy’s White Lady and knew that the gift was the greatest the Bird could give.
With a sad smile and a flick of the wand the Resting Place vanished, never to be seen again.
Some say that the Fiery One took the Resting Place to where it would never be found. Others say that the Boy is not really dead, but resting until he is needed again like King Arthur in his hollow hill.
Many wish to see the Boy again, the one who brought the age of Peace to the Magical World.
Others know better, and pray they never see the Boy because he has earned his rest.
Still, rumors say that one day the Boy will wake to fight again in another war. But until then he rests in his safe place, surrounded by loved ones with his Fiery Friend and his White Lady standing guard.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Smiling at the piles of sleeping children the old woman stood, carefully moving them to their beds where blankets were tucked and foreheads kissed.
So much had changed since the War, much of it for the better. They were the Whitestags, one of the most prominent families for the Light in the Wizarding World. It was one way they could honor him and the sacrifice he made.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it?”
“It always will. But we haven’t forgotten him. Merlin, how could we?”
“I know. I hope that when we finally see each other again he’s happy with what we’ve done with the legacy he left us.”
They were the last left of their generation. Molly had died of old age, surrounded by grand and great-grand children the same night as Arthur. Bill and Fleur had lived full lives, killed in a tomb excavation many years after their own children had children. Charlie had stayed with his dragons, as had his wife when he finally married. Their only child had not wanted for love and made them happy grandparents. The twins were pranking terrors all their days, leaving a rowdy bunch to take on their legacy of laughter. Ginny had become a leader in the Ministry, making changes in the way children were treated and educated. Percy had worked right alongside her, making sure that no terror like Umbridge could ever get back in power.
Moony and Tonks had survived the last battle to raise little Teddy, who himself had made them happy grandparents several times over. Remus had passed while still relatively young for a wizard, the wolf having taken its toll. Tonks had followed years later, having hung on as long as she could so she could tell him all the stories she could gather about their family.
Neville and Luna, only Harry had really seen that one coming, had married not a week after the final battle. Neville had lain down to take a nap in his favorite garden one beautifully sunny day and never woke again. Luna had followed barely a week later, laying the crook of the old willow tree Neville had planted on their first anniversary.
All their school mates had passed on years ago, they the last two to carry the full story. Their lives filled with children and grandchildren and great-great grandchildren.
The old couple walked back to their room and the multitude of pictures covering the walls and shelves. One always drew them on nights like this. The picture was in an unremarkable frame on their nightstand. The image was of a boy with messy black hair, pale skin and round glasses, seemingly asleep. The only movement in the picture was an aura around the boy almost like the aurora borealis.
“I’m tired, Ron.”
“Then let’s rest, Hermione. It’s been a very long day.”
The couple lay down in their bed and went to sleep in each other’s arms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour or so later, the door creaked quietly open. A tiny figure with messy red hair and bright blue eyes looked at her grandparents. They were holding each other, smiling softly and utterly still.
Just as quietly she slipped back out. The little girl let out a quiet sniffle and hugged her doll tight.
“Goodnight Pappy Ron, Grandma Hermy. I hope your dreams and adventures are always good.
And please tell Grandpa Harry thank you from all of us.”