A/N: And...this is it. It has been an exceedingly long road, over several years and over 400,000 words. Thank you all for reading. I hope you have enjoyed the ride.
Chapter Thirty-Six: Fire and Water
Voldemort gasped as he felt control of the Fiendfyre wrenched away from his grip. The loss of control and the magical backlash of it staggered him. As the fire died, he saw the charred goblins falling where they stood, beyond even their magic to sustain them. But as he continued to look, he saw more than just goblins falling. His own people were dead as well, some charred husks, and others reduced to ash. He stood in the middle of blackened mud, surrounded not by his armies in triumph, but by death.
Spinning around, he desperately sought for his people. He saw piles all around—piles of bodies in the black robes of his forces. But none continued to fight. "No!" he howled.
Poor Pouty Face, Myrtle whispered in the back of his mind. Even when you have the most toys, the most money, the most people, you still can't ever win.
"No," he howled. "Never! I am Lord Voldemort! No one can defeat me!"
"Let's give that a test, Tommy Boy!"
The deep, powerful voice needed no sonorous to be heard over the rain. He spun around and felt as if someone punched him when he saw Morgan Murchison staring right at him with that ridiculous hat. "You! What are you doing here?"
"I'm putting a rabid dog down, Tom," Morgan said. "Once upon a time, I'd like to think you might have accomplished great things. But now…look around you. You killed more of your own people than Potter did."
"I'm changing the world, Morgan!" Voldemort screamed. "For all of us! I won't ever let those bitches bind me again! Never!"
"Burning the world won't make you free, Voldemort," Morgan shouted back. "Merlin's blue balls, man, look around you! All you bring is death. It's time to end it."
"No!" Voldemort lashed out with deadly power. Morgan calmly sidestepped it and returned fire with a wide arc of blasting magic that caused the earth in a twelve-foot arc in front of Voldemort to explode with the force of a Muggle bomb.
Somehow the British Dark Lord slashed his wand and came through the numbingly powerful strike unscathed, but then immediately had to deflect a dark purple curse from Ganpati Patil, while Alphard Black began conjuring a rain of javelins and arrows. All of them wielded male wands, two of which were made by Harry. All of them had full access to their unreduced magic.
"Black, you bastard!" Voldemort shouted.
"You corrupted or killed my family, Riddle," Alphard shouted back through the downpour. "I was content to let you play your games. But your machinations ended both Reggie's and Sirius's life and have threatened the coven. For that, I'm going to kill you!"
Voldemort spun through attacks from Morgan and Patil and unleashed a stunningly powerful wave of blasting magic as strong as what Morgan used. And it was at that moment, while the Dark Lord concentrated simultaneous on attack and defence, when Harry struck.
The conjured, banished javelin ripped through the Dark Lord's side so fast, not even he realized what happened. He continued his curse and broke Alphard's shield to send the man flying into the mud a dozen feet away and spun about to deal with the other two when doing so caused a flare of agony in his side.
He looked down and saw a dark stain barely visible in the rain. He transfigured a great wall of steel between him and his two foes, and as he spun about in the finishing flourish, he barely managed to avoid a powerful blasting curse from the fourth attacker.
"Potter!" he shouted.
Morgan was already blasting through his conjured shield. Harry began casting a cascade of magic, but even weakened and wounded, Voldemort was more powerful and worlds more skilled. He flew forward through the mud to kill Harry, his eyes locked on the boy's, when his world suddenly erupted in pain and sound.
He landed with a squelch of the bloody mud between charred bodies and the ichor of a random Witch-born's innards. With effort, he looked up and saw from the charred edges of his robes that either Morgan or Patil had landed a blow. The two wizards ran toward him, while Potter continued casting. Voldemort looked at the young boy who, despite having not even a tenth of his skill and expertise, had somehow become the bane of his existence. He felt the boy's Occlumency through their glance.
With a shock and a surge of rage, Voldemort realized he was going to lose. And in that rage, he lashed out not with fire or conjuration, but in Legilimency.
The boy's shields were powerful, but not powerful enough. He ripped through them, raising a cry of agony from the boy, and tore into his mind. Voldemort himself burned with agony as Potter turned the whole of his existence into defending his mind, but just as the goblins carried on despite the fire consuming their bodies, Voldemort carried on despite the mental agony. And at last he found the one thing he wanted—a secret buried deep within Harry's soul.
He tore the secret out—Potter screamed, but the scream was not enough vengeance to sate Voldemort's need. With a snarl, he tore through the Disapparition jinx and disappeared. Perhaps he would lose, but he would make sure Potter did not win!
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Harry collapsed into the mud and gore as he vomited until he had only bile left, and then vomited that as well. He was dimly aware of strong hands propping him up. "Where'd he go, boy?" Morgan shouted.
"Godric's Hollow," Harry said. "Morgan, he's going after my family!"
He managed to twist out of the stronger man's grip, and shunting aside the pain of his mental rape he spun and Apparated through the same breach in the wards that Voldemort caused.
Moments later Harry appeared in front of Potter's Cottage, stopped by another disapparating jinx from entering the house directly. The front door was gone, as was a part of the wall itself. Summoning what little strength he had he ran toward the house, tripping twice in his blood and mud-soaked boots.
When he rushed in, he could barely breathe.
Tori writhed in agony against the far wall, screaming without sound while being held by a sticking charm and the Cruciatus. Hermione lay unmoving on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. Ginny lay against the far wall, blinking and holding a broken wand while a stain of red spread through the white blouse she wore.
In the middle of the room stood Voldemort, one arm wrapped around Luna's neck, with a wand pointed to her temple.
"You think you won, Potter?" Voldemort hissed angrily. The creature was as charred as many of those he killed, and dripped blood from a dozen cuts and the large wound Harry caused in his side. "Do you think you could ever beat me? I am Lord Voldemort. I never lose!"
His feet felt like they weight a ton, but still Harry stepped further into the room. "I'll give you a new body," Harry whispered. "Anyone. Anything. Just let her go."
"Just like with the Diggory boy, huh?" Voldemort sneered. "And you know how that ended up. No, it's too late for bartering, Potter. You had your chances to join me. No one denies me, especially not twice!"
Harry took another step into the room. "I'm not just a boy any more. I won't let you just kill her, Tom. Not like Charity, or Cedric. I might die, but I promise to God you will too. Let her go, and you can run. But if you hurt her…"
Luna screamed as Voldemort wordlessly cast the Cruciatus. Harry tried to surge forward, but with a negligent flick of his wand the monster sent Harry flying against the far wall. Even with the Dark Lord hurt, Harry was no match for him. Luna's screams filled Harry's ears until he could barely see. Lines of probability collapsed around him as all the futures faded into this single moment.
In that single moment, her movements masked by Luna's screams, Ginny Weasley grabbed the Dark Lord's wand arm, jerked it away from Luna and bit his wrist as hard as she could. Luna collapsed to the floor twitching with the lingering agony of the curse. With an angry roar, Voldemort punched Ginny with his other hand.
The blow shattered Ginny's nose. She blinked and stumbled back far enough for the enraged Dark Lord to spin and back-hand her. The sound of shattering bone cracked through the air like lightning as Ginny somersaulted through the air to land with a crash through the kitchen table.
Voldemort spun to kill them all and instead found an enraged teenaged boy tackling him in a cloud of accidental magic.
Harry was not a large man, but he was strong from years of physical workouts. Every ounce of strength he possessed he called on in that moment to take Voldemort down to the ground and pummel him. Magic poured off him just like it did years ago when he beat his former roommate, and Voldemort roared in return as his own pain mounted.
In the flurry, their wands snapped and broke away. But Voldemort was older and stronger, even injured as he was, and with a kick of his knee he sent Harry flying over his head. The boy scrambled back to his feet and charged again only for Voldemort to catch him and physically throw him to the floor.
Pain seared up from Harry's back, but he spun and scrambled back to his feet, only to receive another shocking blow to his face. "Always the brave Gryffindor," Voldemort snarled as he punched Harry again and again, loosening teeth and breaking bones. "But you never understood. You can never beat me. Not you, not Morgan, not Dumbledore, not Myrtle! No one can beat me!"
He gripped the boy by his head, prepared to snap his neck. Harry looked him in the face, and whispered through a broken jaw, "I just did."
Voldemort looked down and saw Potter's hand against his chest. In that split instant he felt a pain greater than anything he could have imagined as the same tactile Aether who gave him his body took it away.
"No!" he screamed as Potter ripped his magic from the body of Barty Crouch Junior. The pain of it was beyond belief. But Potter wasn't done. He did not let go of Voldemort's magic—something only a tactile Aether was capable of.
"It's over," Harry said painfully through his broken jaw. "Never again. I won't ever let you do this again."
He summoned fire, but it was not a fire that burned flesh. It was a fire of the soul, a fire that began to burn away Voldemort's very magic, just as he almost accidentally burned away Seamus Finnigan's magic five years before.
Voldemort roared his defiance until in the end the echo of that roar was all that remained.
Against the far wall, Tori fell to the ground in a twitching heap, just like Luna. Hermione still lay unmoving in a pool of her own blood, and in the kitchen he heard a faint, broken Ginny whispering, "Harry? Harry? Somebody help me. Please. Harry?"
Surrounded by the women of his life, women he tried and failed to save, Harry fell to his knees and passed out from pain, blood loss, and despair.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Harry stood atop a tall mountain, looking down over the whole world. Lazy streams of clouds rolled by below him, casting shadows against the lands below. Above, the sky shone painfully bright. And before him stood a beautiful young woman with long, copper-coloured red hair and bright, shining brown eyes.
"Ginny?"
She hugged herself and looked around the mountain top before stepping to him. "Are you dead too, Harry?"
The question made his heart thud heavily. "I don't think so. I've been here before. Are you…are you in pain?"
Her smile never reached her eyes. "Not any more. I suppose that's something. It hurt so much when he cursed me, but I just couldn't…" She paused, and a single tear ran down her cheek. "After all mum and I did, I just couldn't let him kill Luna. I tried to save Hermione and Tori too, but he cursed me. I could feel it burning my stomach, but I just couldn't…"
Harry stepped toward her, and here on this high mountain she felt as solid as if they were back at Potter's Cottage, snuggling together in her bed. She sighed in his arms. "I always dreamed I would be your first. I would be the one you loved most. But I never was, was I?"
"That doesn't mean you weren't loved, Ginny."
She closed her eyes while her hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt at his back. Her sigh sounded ragged and bitter. "Did I die a hero, Harry?" she asked. She spoke into his chest, as if fearing to see his face when he answered.
"You died a hero, Ginny. You saved all of us. And…" Harry stopped, and realized he was crying too. "Oh Merlin, I will miss you, Ginny. I'll miss your sniping at Hermione and making Tori pout and that incredible bread you made and how you rubbed against me and…"
She kissed him, eyes staring into his eyes. She kissed him, and he kissed her back. Finally, she parted. "I know you never loved me most, Harry. But I did love you. Thank you for making me a part of your family. Even if it was only for a little while."
She separated from him, and for the first time Harry realized they were not alone. Mum stood there, and beside her stood Justine Finch-Fletchley, tall, lithe and elegant as always. She smiled warmly at Harry and waved.
"You won't be alone, Ginny," Justine said.
And Ginny, weeping, rushed into the arms of the taller girl. Behind them, an oddly young Dumbledore smiled at Harry while standing nearby was a beaming Cedric Diggory. "Death is but the start of the next great adventure," Dumbledore said. "Live your life, Harry. Do what you must to find happiness. And in the fullness of time, we'll be waiting for you."
"It's time to wake up now, Harry," Mum said as she held Justine and Ginny both. "Wake up, and live, son. Wake up and live."
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
"Is he awake yet?"
Kingsley Shacklebolt turned and saw Tonks limping toward him. The Minister for Magic himself was missing two fingers and wore a large poultice for magical burns on his scalp, but otherwise was whole. He stood in the tenth row out of twenty, each row with forty beds taking up the entirety of the Ministry Atrium.
In four beds nearest to him lay Harry Potter and the remnants of his family. Molly and Arthur burned their youngest daughter Ginny in a funeral pyre the day before in the exact same place they burned their daughter Charlene.
"No," Kingsley said. "Dame Potter woke briefly this afternoon, but the healers decided to dose her again."
"What about Hermione or Tori?"
Kingsley shook his head sadly. "Tori lost her baby, and the healers aren't sure she'll recover. She was under the Cruciatus for more than five minutes. In anyone else, the damage would be irreparable. The only thing going in Tori's favour is the fact that her low magic may actually help her recover better."
"Hermione?"
"She's been magically petrified while they apply phoenix tears to her spinal cord. They think she'll recover fully, but it'll be some time yet."
Tonks nodded and looked down at the sleeping teens. "Shack, you know, after the battle when we worked with the Yanks to clean up, I had the most interesting conversation with a witch from Colorado. Pretty thing named Jennifer Speltz. She's a lieutenant in their army. Know what she's going to do?"
"What?"
"She's going to resign her commission and marry a Muggle rancher. Says he saved her life during the whole Brazilian incursion. They don't have any rules about it in WestCon. Witches don't have to bind their magic to live with Muggles. They just need to not use any wards that could hurt the Muggles. You know the Apostate Ollivander? He's married to a Squib woman."
"Why are you telling me this, Tonks?"
The Auror wiped her eyes. "Because I'm sick and tired of magic, Shack. I'm tired of being leered at and treated like a piece of meat or a threat. I just want to find a nice bloke, maybe get married without having to share, pop out a couple o' sprogs, and live, you know? I just wanna live."
Kingsley looked at the young witch for a long moment before slowly wrapping her in a hug. "Then you go and live, Tonks. You find a nice lad, magic or no, and you live your life. And you have my word that you'll get a chance to do so. While I'm minister—while anyone lives who remembers this day—no law will ever be passed that punishes you for living as you will."
"Thanks, Shack," she whispered. Backing away, she said, "Tell Harry thanks for me. He's an amazing person, he is."
"Tell me yourself."
Tonks blinked and stared down at Harry, whose still-swollen eyes gleamed up at her. She grinned and knelt down beside his bed. "You did it, Harry! You killed the bastard. The moment he died, all his oath-bound soldiers turned on his lieutenants. The war's over."
"Ginny's dead."
Tonks blinked, and said, "How do you know?"
"I saw her. She died a hero, Tonks. She saved us all, even though she knew she was going to die. Make sure Molly knows—Ginny died a hero."
"I will, Harry."
With great effort, he turned to look at the other girls. "Will they be okay?"
"What does your Sight tell you?"
"I can't see anything," he whispered.
"Then believe," Tonks said. "Believe they'll be okay. Sometimes, faith is enough."
She took his heavily bandaged hand in hers. He blinked at her, and she felt a spike of worry when she saw a welling of blood at his nostril. "He's waiting for you, Tonks," Harry said softly. "He doesn't even know it, but he's waiting."
With a brilliant, painful grin, Tonks nodded. "Take care of yourself, kiddo." She leaned over and gently brushed her lips to his, before turning and leaving. She paused only long enough to hand her badge to Kingsley.
"Kingsley?" Harry asked.
"Yes, Harry?"
"I quit."
The Minister stared down at the teen for a long moment, before laughing in a guffaw that made every person in the room turn and stare.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Potter Cottage seemed empty without a dozen other families living there. Neville, Susan and Hannah were now firmly established in Longbottom Covenstead. Hannah was already pregnant, Neville reported with a nervous gleam in his eye.
All of them recovered, at least physically. Tori spent hours every day in the nursery, staring down into an empty cradle with an equally empty face. Her left hand had a permanent tremor that no amount of potion or magic could stop.
It took Hermione two weeks to learn to walk again, and when she did it was with a permanent limp that resulted from soft-tissue damage in her knee. She went to see a Muggle physician and was told she was a good candidate for surgery, but that it would be extensive and they recommended she wait until she was older to see if it stabilized. She frequently had bouts of minor numbness in her extremities. Even with Phoenix Tears, some nerve damage lingered from her spinal injury.
Luna spent hours upon hours each day staring into the West, as if searching for something none of them could ever find.
Somehow, Harry wasn't surprised when Hermione knocked on the door of his wand lab and stepped inside, moving slowly and deliberately as she had to do now. Harry put down the various blanks he was working with—which included the new one he was making for himself—to focus on her alone.
He saw it all in her face. In the way she stood, and the anguish and self-doubt in her eyes. "Luna told you," he said.
Hermione nodded and hugged herself. "My parents said I could come home, to Australia." She spoke in barely whisper, as if the words burned her throat. "They've made a good life for themselves there, and I would be there to help my sister."
"Do you want to go?"
"No," she said. She wiped her eyes. "Do you remember, that horrid Christmas when Luna passed judgment on me? I love you, Harry. But…I can never forgive her for doing that. I know why she did—I know the custom. It was barbaric, just like the entire idea of polygamy. I love you, and I don't want you to think I'm doing this because of anything you've done, but I just…"
"You want to live," Harry whispered. He wiped his own eyes. "Did you know, at the Orientation, you were the first child I ever touched who didn't jerk back? I think in a way you were my first real friend." He sniffed loudly. "I love you, Hermione. I love you so much, I'll let you go if that's what you need."
She hugged him, and her kiss tasted salty with their mutual tears. "Then let me go, Harry. I love you, but I can't stay with you. Not if I ever want to live my own life."
"I know."
They made love that night, Harry and Hermione, and the next morning Luna quietly, and without any fanfare, severed the bond that joined Hermione and Harry through her. It was astonishingly easy for her to do so, and Harry secretly wondered if it was something Luna always knew about, seeing how she always seemed more informed regarding Aether magic than he was. She said she got it from Ravenclaw, but he wondered.
That afternoon, with an Order of Merlin First Class and traveller's cheques Harry insisted on giving her to ensure she never wanted for anything, Hermione climbed into a cab and drove away in a cool April morning toward Heathrow. It was the last he ever saw or even heard of her.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Aiden Bickers slammed back his pint and gave a cheer as Derby County put the lid in the coffin of United in the surprise victory of the season. Around the pub, other patrons shouted or threw cans at the television, but Bickers always liked the underdogs. Besides, it wouldn't really kill Manchester's season. Not really.
He started to stand to leave when suddenly a full pint of bitter appeared in front of him, along with quite possibly the sexiest bird he'd ever seen. She had purple hair, three earrings in each ear, and wore a loose blouse that gave a window to some of the most gorgeous tits he'd seen in his life.
"Hello," he stammered.
"Hello, there," she said as she pulled on her own pint. "It's been a few months. How are you?"
"Have we met? 'Cause I gotta say, I think I'd remember."
She reached down into that wonderful, inviting cleavage of hers and removed a strangely polished stick. His mind began racing with the possible things she did with that stick, when she tapped his forehead.
And suddenly, he remembered. He thanked God he wasn't taking a swig, because the way his hands shook he would have dropped it. "What the fuck," he whispered.
"Operational security," Tonks said. That was her name, Tonks. One of the witches in the raid. "Only the top officers retained their memories. It was part of the agreement."
"But…but…why are you telling me?"
"Remember what we talked about on the trip into Diagon, Aiden?"
He blushed. "Well, yeah, 'suppose I do now."
She leaned forward, flashing that glorious cleavage. "The rules have changed. The good guys won, and I want to give you a try. Finish your pint. I'm going to take you back to my flat, and I'm going to shag you until your brains get loose. Then we'll go from there."
Aiden was not stupid. He downed his pint in one Herculean swallow, and said, "I'm all yours, ma'am."
"Not yet, but pretty damned soon," Tonks said with a grin as she grabbed his hand and led him out of the pub.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Kingsley Shacklebolt was a war veteran. He had his scars and the regard of those he served with, and he parlayed that into a long, successful career as Minister of Magic. And true to his word, not only did he keep any laws from passing that would have required Tonks to have her magic bound, but he helped drive the adoption of a Witch-born Charter of Rights similar to that of the WestCon Americans, making it a matter of law that Witch-born could marry who they will.
It didn't solve all problems, of course. The risk of accidental bonding still existed, which is why the Ministry chose to follow the EastCon method of splitting male and female students between Hogwarts, and Sanctuary. Harry still technically owned the school and received a nice return from his investment, but he left the teaching to the new headmaster there, Filius Flitwick, and his Deputy Headmaster Severus Snape. Beginning with the class of 2000, all wizards attended Sanctuary, renamed the Firebird Academy of Wizardry, while all witches attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft.
The two schools would negotiate on an on-going basis for mixers for the seventh years.
It wasn't perfect—there were still bitter fights between the elected Sabbat and Wizengamot chambers of Parliament, most especially when the first term limits came due and the remnant Dames and Elders realized they would no longer retain the political power tradition and inertia had granted them. Some attempted to resist by force, but from his position of political and moral superiority, and the highest public approval rating of any Minister for Magic in history, Kingsley was able to get that quickly under control.
While the older generations would always remember the power and importance of Covens and the Sabbat, each year crept closer to a generation that would have no direct, first-hand knowledge of those institutions at all.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
"Morgana's tits, it's hot," Tori said loudly.
Harry and Luna shared a smile, while Luna shifted their daughter on her hip. Harry carried his and Tori's son Tarius on his back in a Muggle baby carrier. The street around them was long, narrow, and green with a short burst of spring growth.
"What a dump," Tori said as she saw their destination for the first time.
The trailer looked exactly the same—a long single-wide trailer propped up on wheels on one end and a jack over bricks on another. The paint was peeling, and it really did look like the whole thing was about to fall apart, at least to Tori. To Harry and Luna, the trailer shone with magic.
The woman who answered was easily as wide as the three of them together. Her face had the same exact warts and sunspots as before, only her hair had begun to grey. "Hello, Esmerelda," Luna said happily.
"Loco Luna Bird!" Esmerelda Ollivander said with a happy squeal. "Get in here before you burn that pretty skin. Who is this one?"
"This is Astoria Greengrass," Luna said. "She's Harry's second wife."
Esmerelda blinked. "Two? You not enough woman for him?"
"Long story," Luna said. "Is Garrick in?"
As they stepped inside the massively expanded interior, they saw Garrick Ollivander, the apostate wand-maker, stepping in from the pool. He stared intently at their visitors, before grinning widely. "Harry Potter! And Mrs Potter! How marvellous! Come give an old man a hug!"
Harry and Luna each did so, and then introduced Astoria and Harry's two children. That night they ate fajitas by the pool and talked for hours about what happened in the three years since the Battle of Sanctuary. Finally, they came to the reason for Harry's visit.
"Well, I'd just as soon stay here," Harry began.
"No," Luna and Tori both said. To Garrick, Luna added, "I love your home, Garrick, but New Mexico is simply too hot for me."
"I quite understand, dear," Ollivander said.
"So, I came for something else," Harry continued. "I quit my job as director of the DMLE, and I don't want to work there anytime soon. I'll probably join the Wizengamot at some point, but not any time soon. Instead, if you're willing, I would like to finish what I started all those years ago. I want to be a wand maker like you. Will you teach me?"
Ollivander's smile looked so bright it almost seemed to cause his pain. "Oh, Harry, my boy, you will be the greatest wand maker who has ever lived, at least if I have any say in it! Of course, all of you are welcome to stay while I teach you. Oh, how marvellous!"
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Fifteen years after the death of Voldemort, the bell of the wand shop announced with a cheery ding-dong the arrival of a nervous little boy and a bright-eyed, almost hyper-active girl. Both were eleven, and one had blue hair, while the other had red. And behind them came their mother and father. The mother was a stunning woman apparently in her early thirties, with a heart-shaped face and almond–shaped eyes.
The father looked older by a decade, but in good shape regardless with a distinctive frosting of grey at his temples. He wore a magic nullifying necklace as mute evidence that he was Muggle.
The owner of the wand shop looked at the woman and smiled happily. "Hello, Tonks."
"Dora, Harry," she said, grinning. "I go by Dora Bickers. This is my husband, Aiden."
Harry Potter stepped around the counter to shake the former SAS trooper's hand. "A pleasure, Mr Bickers. And these must be Sirius and Cassie."
"Are you really the Harry Potter?" Cassie Bickers said eagerly.
"Are you really the Cassiopeia Bickers?" Harry asked in return, with the same tone of awe.
"Only mum calls me Cassiopeia. It's a stupid name."
"It's a powerful and auspicious name," Harry corrected her. "For a powerful and auspicious future Slytherin."
Tonks looked slightly alarmed. "Slytherin?"
"I might remind you I'm married to a Slytherin," Harry said, winking at Cassie. "And in fact I gave a Slytherin wand to young Antonia Weasley just this morning. While her father Ron was somewhat alarmed, her mother Tina was quite pleased." He looked at Cassie's brother. "And you, young Mr Bickers, will need a Hufflepuff wand. Just like your mum."
"How do you know?" Cassie asked, while Sirius blinked and smiled up at his mum.
"Magic, of course, dear," Harry said with another wink. He absolutely loved aweing the first years. A brief search gave him the wands he wanted—a Slytherin wand that Tori herself contributed to. Given the fact that she was a distant cousin of Tonks and a Slytherin, he felt the wood was a good match, and the basilisk fang was definitely a match for a young lady who felt the whole world was at her beck and call.
The Hufflepuff wand was contributed by another distant cousin—Neville, who made contributions of the Hufflepuff humour with a blush. "It's just shit, Neville," Harry assured him. "And yours just happens to make good wands for young wizards. Consider it an honour."
He gave them both the wands and nodded in satisfaction as he landed an exact match for each.
"That will be two hundred and twelve pounds," he said.
Bickers whistled. Dora, though, shook her head. "That's half your normal price. This is the most important instruments they'll ever own."
"You were at Sanctuary and Gringotts," Harry said. "That's my rate. If you argue, I'll drop the price more."
Tonks snorted and handed over the wads of notes. "Right. Thank you, Harry. It was good seeing you. When will your kids show up?"
"Ginevra starts in two years. Tarius a year after, then the twins, and then James. The others are far enough away that I don't need to worry about them just yet."
"That's a lot of kids," Aiden noted.
Harry's face virtually glowed. "Yes, it is. Thank you both for coming. Cassie, look for young Antonia. I believe the two of you could be great friends. And both of you, remember to take good care of your wands. They are now a part of you, and with a Potter wand in your hand, there's no telling how far you'll go."
"Thank you, Mr Potter!" the two kids called before leaving.
Harry watched them go and then closed up the shop for the day. He was late for a dinner party with the Longbottoms. Between the two families, the houses would have fourteen kids, eight of which were his own. Sometimes it got noisy, and there were times when all three parents wanted to scream.
Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Voldemort never could understand what real power was. It wasn't making others bow before you in fear. It was wanting to hold and be held by those you loved. It was family.
Harry Potter was powerful beyond Voldemort's wildest dreams.
Finis.
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Author's Note: While I have a note at the bottom of every chapter, I just wish to stress again just how much I appreciated Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. This trilogy was so long that it was a chore, and yet these three made a very real difference in the quality of this fic. Thank you all very much for your help on this.