Author's Note: A thousand thanks to all reviewers. I really wasn't expecting so much positive feedback. I really appreciate it. I was pleased to see that a couple people had figured it out a few chapters ahead of time. It's good to know that I dropped enough hints. Anyway, this is it, folks. The epilogue. The format's a little different than previous chapters have been. As always, enjoy.

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Epilogue: Making Amends

Two days later

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" Ron blinked, looking up from his breakfast.

"I just asked how many people you think will show for the funeral," Neville said.

"I dunno," Ron muttered, rubbing his eyes, "but I bet half who do show didn't even know him."

"Yeah. Well, my gran's coming in first thing in the morning. She thinks the Death Eaters might try something."

Ron heard a clatter. Hermione scrambled to pick up her fork with shaking fingers. Their eyes met for an instant before she cast her gaze at her plate again.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Listen, I'm going to go check on Mum. I'll see you later."

"Okay," Neville said.

Ron did not go to the hospital wing, however. Instead, he trudged up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. He could not handle seeing his mother right now. She had not stopped crying since Professor McGonagall told her that Harry's body had been found the previous day. Meanwhile, Ginny had locked herself in the sixth year girls' dormitory and refused to come out. Hermione showed up to meals, but she spent the rest of her time walking around the school listlessly, jumping every time someone spoke to her.

And Ron? He did not think he had truly reacted yet. He felt like he was in a fog. None of it seemed real. Harry could not be dead. It was just not possible.

He opened the dormitory door and froze when he saw the bag sitting next to Harry's trunk. He had seen it the previous morning and did not think anything of it, but now the full weight of its meaning hit him. Not only was Harry gone. He had known he was going to die.

A tap on the window brought Ron jolting back to reality. A tawny owl perched outside the window, a newspaper tied to one leg and a small money pouch to the other.

Ron opened the window. "You're looking for Hermione, aren't you?" he muttered. He imagined the owl, unable to find its customer, had settled for the first person it saw.

The owl nipped at his fingers and held out its leg. Ron sighed, dug through his pockets for money, and took the newspaper. Once paid, the owl screeched and took off into the sky. Ron glanced over the front-page, half of which was taken up by an old picture of Harry. Ron guessed that it was a reprint of a picture run during the Triwizard Tournament. It was slightly unnerving to see the fourteen-year-old Harry smiling and waving at him, so he quickly turned his eyes to the article.

The Death of the Boy Who Lived

Twenty-four hours after the body of prominent wizard Harry Potter was discovered in an upstairs room of an abandoned mansion, speculation continues over what occurred at the house. Though a time of death has yet to be established, statements obtained from local Muggle residents confirm a disturbance outside the mansion in the afternoon of August 26th. Ministry officials will not confirm whether the two events coincide.

"No mark was found on Mr. Potter's body," lead investigator Kingsley Shacklebolt stated early this morning. "The cause of death has not been determined at the present time." Shacklebolt has confirmed that blood found at the scene did not belong to Potter, but he would not speak further as to whose it may be.

In the meantime, rumors are spreading that the mansion, formerly St. Giles' Home for the Critically Insane, may have been a hideout for a number of prominent Death Eaters, possibly including You-Know-Who himself. Though some have theorized that Potter may have defeated the notorious Dark Lord before his death, many remain skeptical.

"Until a body is found, we cannot be too careful," Professor Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stated in an interview. She has assured this reporter that Hogwarts will continue to employ a full guard in preparation for the arrival of students on September 1st.

Harry Potter's funeral will be held on August 29th at Hogwarts school. Professor McGonagall would not reveal the location for his burial. Some have speculated that he would be buried on Hogwarts grounds in a similar fashion as former headmaster Albus Dumbledore, but leading sources now cite Godric's Hollow as a more likely location. If these rumors prove true, he will likely be interred near his parents: James and Lily Potter.

The article continued on another page. Ron threw the paper on the table without looking at the rest. He knew what it would say. The article would finish with a short summary of what happened to James and Lily Potter, followed by another statement, likely from the Minister for Magic. The other articles would include new reports of deaths with no names mentioned and a repeated list of Death Eaters still eluding capture. If they were lucky, there would be a capture or two, but it was always people that Ron had never heard of. Even Hermione had stopped reading the reports weeks earlier.

Ron turned his eyes back on the bag. Harry had a lot of nerve to ask so much of him. He had not even trusted Ron enough to tell him why he was leaving.

Guilt washed over Ron. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. What was done was done. Raging at Harry would not bring him back.

But there was a difference between forgiving him and carrying out his wishes. Could Ron go along with what Harry asked of him, even if he did not understand or agree with it?

I'm not asking you to understand. Harry had said. I'm just asking you to trust me.

Ron picked up the bag and slung it over one shoulder. It was very light. Of course he would go along with it. He had known that before Harry even asked. Which was why he had already made the arrangements. He went to the drawer beside his bed where he had put the ticket the previous night.

He had to do what Harry asked. His conscience would not allow him to do anything else.

-

Draco paced. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, bouncing his leg up and down, before springing to his feet and moving again. He tried standing by the window, but that did little to help his anxiety. He even tried playing a game of chess, but he could not make himself concentrate. Dobby had brought him breakfast, but he could not stand to eat more than a bite at a time. He had been this way for the past three days, since the morning Potter left.

Draco knew he should run. Potter was the only thing standing between him and the Ministry. He held no delusions that Granger or Weasley would help him. Only one thing kept him from leaving the moment Potter walked out the door.

He had nowhere to go.

Frustrated, Draco threw his fist at the wall. Rather than offer him relief, all this did was send pain radiating all the way up to his elbow. He swore, shaking his hand.

This was all Potter's fault. In fact, given enough time, Draco was certain he could find a way to blame everything that had gone wrong on Potter. Potter had done nothing but ruin his life since the day they met.

Draco sat down again, massaging his knuckles. Potter's fault or not, he was in deep trouble. He was trapped in a castle full of people who hated him.

He fell onto his back, loosening his belt. He would just relieve a little stress. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what to do next.

Just as his tension began to ease, he heard the doorknob turn. Swearing again, he jumped to his feet, struggling to pull his trousers back up.

Weasley stepped into the room, a bag draped over one shoulder. He glanced away at once, looking ill. "Keep it in your trousers, Malfoy."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Oh, please. I'd rather do an owl."

"An owl wouldn't have you."

"It was good enough for Potter." Draco felt a thrill of triumph as Weasley's face turned beet red, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now, are you quite finished? I'm a little busy here."

Weasley wrinkled his nose. "Believe me, I don't want to be here any more than you want me here, so let's just get right to the point." He set the bag on the desk chair. "I don't know what happened between you and Harry. Quite frankly, I don't want to know. But for whatever reason, Harry thought you were worth helping."

"Are you going to get to that point any time soon?" Draco asked. "I have better things to do."

"Do you know what an aeroplane is?"

Malfoy blinked. "Big Muggle flying contraption? I'm familiar."

"Good." Weasley pulled what looked like a small booklet with papers tucked inside from his back pocket. He dropped it on the desk. "Everything you'll need is in there, plus directions. If you have any problems, just tell them you're foreign or something."

"And where exactly are you shipping me off to?"

"My cousin Thomas recently got his own place in the States. He's agreed to let you stay with him for a few weeks."

"And after that?"

"After that, you're not my problem anymore." Weasley turned for the door.

"Wait." Draco was slightly surprised to hear his own voice. He did not even know what he was going to say until Weasley looked at him again. "Potter's dead, isn't he?"

Weasley glared. "I don't know what the hell Harry saw in you," he growled. He walked out, slamming the door with a loud bang that seemed to linger in the air.

Draco stared at the door for a long time. Then he turned his attention to the papers on the desk. The booklet said, "Passport" on the front, and he found an aeroplane ticket tucked inside, along with a handwritten set of directions to an aeroport in London. He had to use the fireplace from the Slytherin common room to reach an abandoned house in the city, after which he would continue on foot.

He glanced at the bag next. There was a small pouch of money inside, along with Potter's Invisibility Cloak. As he drew the cloak out, a piece of parchment slipped from the folds, fluttering to the ground. Draco stooped to pick it up. He smoothed out the wrinkles and stared at the single sentence scrawled on it, followed by a hurried signature.

Sometimes the pawns are worth saving.

Harry Potter

Draco crumbled the parchment in his fist. Potter was a sentimental idiot. It was a wonder he did not die years ago.

Draco went to the wardrobe and grabbed as many clothes as he could stuff into the bag. He flipped the bag closed and threw it on the bed. He sat down to put his shoes on.

When he stood and took a step forward, his foot connected with the chessboard. Pieces spilled across the floor, looking up and shaking their tiny fists at him.

Draco stared down at them. His head filled with a number of confusing emotions. He did not have room for the chessboard in his bag. He could have made room, but that would mean taking one less change of clothes. Besides, there was no reason to take it. He doubted there would be much time for playing chess in the next couple weeks.

Still, he could not stop himself from crouching down. He picked up the nearest white knight and examined it. He did not know why. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the piece. In fact, it was worn and the horse's head had a small chip in it. Nevertheless, he could not stop staring.

Potter was always overprotective of his knights, Draco realized. Even if he had lost all his other pieces, he always had a couple of pawns and at least one knight left. It seemed odd, as he rarely put the knights to good use. Then again, Potter was terrible at chess.

Draco smirked in spite of himself. His fist closed around the knight, and he tucked it into his pocket. He pulled the bag back onto his shoulder and drew the cloak around himself. With one last glance around the room, he stepped out into the corridor.

-

Twelve hours earlier

"Hello, Ron." Harry stood by the door of the common room, staring at a spot just over Ron's left shoulder. "I'm probably not looking in the right place. Dumbledore's better at this than I am, but I guess he's had more practice."

He rested his hand on the doorknob as though he wanted to leave. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going," he said finally. "I couldn't take the chance you'd try to stop me.

"I'm sure Hermione's probably told you the truth by now. If not...well, there's no use keeping it secret anymore. The last Horcrux...Ron, it's me. I don't really understand it myself. Apparently Dumbledore told me years ago. He said a piece of Voldemort was transferred into me the night he tried to kill me. I should have realized what he meant."

He released the doorknob and leaned against the door, staring at the floor. "There's something Hermione doesn't know though. Really, nobody knows." He laughed. "God, this is so stupid. Here I am making last confessions, and I can't even say it." His smile faded. "Ron, I'm dying. I think I've known for a while, I just couldn't admit it to myself. That day Voldemort ripped my mind apart, he took part of my memory, but I think he also woke up that piece of soul he left inside me. I tried having my mind repaired and even blocking off bits and pieces, but it keeps breaking through. Now that I know it's there, I can feel it...crawling..."

Harry stopped suddenly. He groaned, clutching his head. He reached into his pocket and drew out a small vial of violet potion, taking a sip. He stood breathing heavily for a moment before finally calming down enough to speak again. "Sorry. I really meant to time this better than that."

He held up the vial. "This is the only thing keeping me here right now. Hermione can probably explain what it is better than I can. She was right though. It won't help me. I'm still balanced on the edge, I just can't see the fall anymore. I've already slipped a few times. I managed to make it back, but I don't think I'll be so lucky next time. I'm afraid next time that thing makes its move, it won't be me who wakes up."

Harry moved across the room and sat on the edge of his bed. "I really should have known. I just keep thinking if I was a little bit quicker. If we had found the Horcruxes just a little faster and I was a little smarter, we could have avoided so much."

He sighed. He looked exhausted, as though he had not slept in days. "Anyway, the reason I made this memory for you is I want to set things right. I'm sorry for the way I've treated you lately. To be honest though, I'm not sure I'd do anything different. Well, that's not really true. I would stop you from walking in that day. I never wanted to hurt you like that. If I could take it back, I would. There's so many things I would take back."

He hesitated. "I have a few messages I need you to deliver for me. I need you to tell Hermione I'm sorry it had to end this way. She needs to know that this isn't her fault. There's nothing she could have done. She'll probably want to go looking for Snape and Aberforth. Tell her don't bother. Snape's probably dead by now. I know Aberforth will have gotten away, but I doubt anyone will find him. He might be senile, but he is definitely Dumbledore's brother.

"And tell Ginny I..." Harry's voice broke and he shook his head. "I don't even know what I want to say to her. Tell her I'm sorry if I hurt her. I didn't mean to. Tell her she was right, and I'm sorry I couldn't be honest with her." He looked directly into Ron's eyes this time. "I really do love her. I know it might not have always seemed like it, but I do."

He looked down again, taking a deep breath. "I want you to tell your mum I'm sorry about your dad and Charlie. I know I couldn't do anything to help Charlie, but I should have tried harder to figure out where your dad was in time.

"If you can get a message to Parvati, tell her I'm sorry about her parents and Padma. And tell Mrs. Macmillan I'm sorry about her husband and Ernie. The Carrows will pay for what they did sooner or later. I'm sure of it.

"If you can find someone who speaks Russian, have them tell Anya Petrov I'm sorry about her brother. He was a good kid. He didn't deserve to die like that.

"And Tonks...I know things are tough for her right now, but they should be getting better soon. If she asks about the book, you can tell her I left it. If she asks about a box, it's in the bottom of my trunk. Otherwise, don't say anything. I know that probably doesn't make much sense, but I can't explain it any better."

Harry paused again. "I'm sure there's people I'm forgetting. Hell, there's everyone. I've apologized to you so many times, it probably doesn't even seem like I mean it anymore. I'll be honest, there were a few times when I didn't. I wish I could make it up to you, I really do."

He stared at his hands. "I have to ask you a favor. You've already done so much for me, more than I deserve, but you're the only one I can trust with this. Hermione means well, but I don't think she could go through with it. Hell, I'm not even sure I could do it."

He took a deep breath. "I need you to send Malfoy away. Preferably somewhere out of the country. I know you have a lot of connections through your family. Call in a favor if you have to, but make sure it's someone you can trust. If you need money, just get some from my trunk. The key to my Gringotts vault is in there, too. I'm leaving half of my money to you and the other half to your mum. She'll say no at first, but tell her I wanted her to have it. After what happened to your brothers and Ginny and Fleur, she'll probably need it. I want all of my school supplies donated to Hogwarts. I don't care what you do with my Muggle clothes. The only thing I want you to keep is the box I mentioned earlier. I'm going to ask you not to look in it, but I know if Tonks doesn't ask about it, you probably will eventually. If and when you do open it, just make sure you keep an open mind.

"When you look in my trunk, you might wonder where my broom is. I would have left it to you, but I needed it. If you want to look, I left it in an alley across from Ollivander's. I doubt it's still there. If the Death Eaters didn't find it, I'm sure someone else did.

"Anyway, I know I'm asking a lot of you. If you do decide to help me, there's a bag sitting next to my trunk. It has my Invisibility Cloak and some money. I want you to give it to Malfoy. I wish I could have left the cloak to you, but the fact is he needs it more."

Harry clenched his hands tighter. "I need you to decide what you're going to do within the next couple of days. I asked Hermione to wait a few days before she turns him in, but I can't guarantee she'll listen. After you send him away, you can show this message to Hermione if you don't mind her knowing that you did it. There's something she knows that I never told you."

He looked up at a spot a few feet from Ron, as though addressing someone standing beside him. "It's okay, Hermione," he said. "You can tell him. But you don't know everything. There's only one person who knows everything. Don't bother trying to find out who it is. It doesn't matter. And don't go after Malfoy. I've made my peace with what's happened."

He glanced briefly out the window and turned back to Ron. "I don't know how much time I have left. There's still a couple things I need to take care of before I go. I'm sure there's something I forgot to say. I could be here for hours talking, but I know you don't have that time. There's still a war to fight. Voldemort might be gone, but the Death Eaters are still out there, and the Order took a major hit from that werewolf attack. They'll need every soldier they can get. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there. But this isn't my fight. I know that now."

Harry sighed again, climbing unsteadily to his feet. "Goodbye, Ron. Take care of yourself. And your family. And Hermione. I wish I could have done more to help." He drew his wand and touched it to his head. A silver strand stretched out from his temple.

The fog rolled in, and Ron stood alone.

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Author's Note: Please review. As promised, I will be doing a question-answer session. Here's how it'll work: feel free to submit any questions regarding this story or my writing in general either through review or a private message. I'll be accepting questions through July 31st. After that day, I'll compile all of the questions and answer them in a livejournal post (My sign in name is pottersister666) sometime during the first week of August. As always, the questions will be listed anonymously. I'll take questions about anything, whether it be logistics, confusing passages, or the futures of specific characters (I may have to admit defeat on a few of those, since I haven't thought out everything). I will also answer questions about my future as a writer. I already have a few questions that I know I'll be including. Just in case there are a few who don't read that post, however, I'll say my goodbyes here. It's been fun. I wish you all the best.