Categories > Books > Harry Potter > To the Rescue
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JK Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.
Epilogue
Wednesday, September 1, 2004
Minerva McGonagall looked around the staff table as they gathered for lunch. She had rarely seen it this full since her own days as a student. The magical baby-boom of the 1980s and 1990s had swelled the school, and these days there were two professors for each of the required classes. There had been little doubt whom she had wanted for the extra positions, and while it had taken her a great deal of luck and persuasion, this year they were all there.
Tabitha Spellman and Lloyd Trowbridge shared the Potions classes. Harry Potter taught dueling and split the Defense classes with Remus Lupin, when he wasn't on 'special assignment' for the Ministry, the International, or the Old Believers. Ivy Sprout and Neville Longbottom shared the Herbology positions. Hermione Lawrence was one of the Transfiguration professors, while her husband Tom taught a class in Ritual Magic and still split the History classes with Binns, who just would not go away.
Ron Weasley was just limping into the hall with a smile on his face. He had managed to live his dream as Keeper for the Chuddley Canons, but had been such a daredevil player that he had had to retire just this past spring, when his injuries had started to become too serious to repair even with magic. He had agreed to come as the Flying and Apparation Instructor, although his wife Sabrina was still flying with the Harpies. Behind him came Luna Potter and Ginny Longbottom, who helped run the daycare needed by the married members of the staff, a great change from the more monastic conditions of the previous few decades. Of course, with Tabitha's four year old, Hermione's three children (one born just three weeks before), Luna's three, Ginny's three (with a fourth on the way), the little group supplied more than half of the staff children, and all were planning more.
McGonagall was distracted by Harry's laugh. It had taken him most of the Seventh year to really recover from the execution of Voldemort and Dumbledore's death. He had spent Luna's last year on the dueling circuit, but also in tracking down Voldemort's associates and supporters, exposing them to the light of publicity if nothing else.
He and Luna had then mostly disappeared for a year and half, only contacting Lupin, Hermione, and Luna's father. Whatever he had done was never spoken about, but she had become aware that whatever it was had put a real scare into what remained of the Pure-Blood Movement. Even Draco Malfoy, who had been trying to bring the various factions together into a political movement across Europe, had retired from the Movement. Draco led a quiet life these days, married to a European Pure-Blood he had met in his travels.
She frowned at the instructors of the Old Belief, all talking in a group. She had no prejudices against the Belief, or against the staff who had belonged or who had recently joined, but she couldn't help but wonder at those who tended the Circle year 'round. They just didn't seem quite so trustworthy.
Still, Harry had told her that they formed both a dike against the more radical Pure-Bloods and would help maintain traditions while helping the Muggle-born integrate into the magical world. "The O.B.s might have high hopes for some real political power," he had said, "but I doubt if they'll ever have as much influence as they do in North America. At least they won't while I'm keeping an eye on them."
Coming from any other twenty-four year old, McGonagall would have shaken her head at their arrogance. Harry was far from perfect, but he was still far from arrogant, and still tended to underestimate himself.
Looking at her Gryffindors, her wonderful trio and their friends, McGonagall allayed her fears. She knew, at least for the rest of her life and beyond, no matter what the crisis, Harry Potter would always come to the rescue.
THE END
Epilogue
Wednesday, September 1, 2004
Minerva McGonagall looked around the staff table as they gathered for lunch. She had rarely seen it this full since her own days as a student. The magical baby-boom of the 1980s and 1990s had swelled the school, and these days there were two professors for each of the required classes. There had been little doubt whom she had wanted for the extra positions, and while it had taken her a great deal of luck and persuasion, this year they were all there.
Tabitha Spellman and Lloyd Trowbridge shared the Potions classes. Harry Potter taught dueling and split the Defense classes with Remus Lupin, when he wasn't on 'special assignment' for the Ministry, the International, or the Old Believers. Ivy Sprout and Neville Longbottom shared the Herbology positions. Hermione Lawrence was one of the Transfiguration professors, while her husband Tom taught a class in Ritual Magic and still split the History classes with Binns, who just would not go away.
Ron Weasley was just limping into the hall with a smile on his face. He had managed to live his dream as Keeper for the Chuddley Canons, but had been such a daredevil player that he had had to retire just this past spring, when his injuries had started to become too serious to repair even with magic. He had agreed to come as the Flying and Apparation Instructor, although his wife Sabrina was still flying with the Harpies. Behind him came Luna Potter and Ginny Longbottom, who helped run the daycare needed by the married members of the staff, a great change from the more monastic conditions of the previous few decades. Of course, with Tabitha's four year old, Hermione's three children (one born just three weeks before), Luna's three, Ginny's three (with a fourth on the way), the little group supplied more than half of the staff children, and all were planning more.
McGonagall was distracted by Harry's laugh. It had taken him most of the Seventh year to really recover from the execution of Voldemort and Dumbledore's death. He had spent Luna's last year on the dueling circuit, but also in tracking down Voldemort's associates and supporters, exposing them to the light of publicity if nothing else.
He and Luna had then mostly disappeared for a year and half, only contacting Lupin, Hermione, and Luna's father. Whatever he had done was never spoken about, but she had become aware that whatever it was had put a real scare into what remained of the Pure-Blood Movement. Even Draco Malfoy, who had been trying to bring the various factions together into a political movement across Europe, had retired from the Movement. Draco led a quiet life these days, married to a European Pure-Blood he had met in his travels.
She frowned at the instructors of the Old Belief, all talking in a group. She had no prejudices against the Belief, or against the staff who had belonged or who had recently joined, but she couldn't help but wonder at those who tended the Circle year 'round. They just didn't seem quite so trustworthy.
Still, Harry had told her that they formed both a dike against the more radical Pure-Bloods and would help maintain traditions while helping the Muggle-born integrate into the magical world. "The O.B.s might have high hopes for some real political power," he had said, "but I doubt if they'll ever have as much influence as they do in North America. At least they won't while I'm keeping an eye on them."
Coming from any other twenty-four year old, McGonagall would have shaken her head at their arrogance. Harry was far from perfect, but he was still far from arrogant, and still tended to underestimate himself.
Looking at her Gryffindors, her wonderful trio and their friends, McGonagall allayed her fears. She knew, at least for the rest of her life and beyond, no matter what the crisis, Harry Potter would always come to the rescue.
THE END
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