Here you go faithful readers. This text, although inspired by the works of J.K. Rowling, belongs to the realm of fanfiction, without any intent to make money (as if...) or any other kind of profit. As a benefit, we will not have the burden of a crappy epilogue, in which we might guess that it took Ron Weasley almost nineteen years to pass his driving licence. Bloody wanker.

Chapter 15 – Cleanup

The Shrieking Shack had not changed since her last visit, but once in the tunnel leading to the Whomping Willow, she realised how much she had changed, at least physically; she had to lower her head after a couple of painful encounters with roots, and eventually switch to her puma form to advance faster. She felt a pang of anger and sadness when she saw the silhouette of the castle in the pale moonlight, distorted by her feline eyes, and ran towards the lake, following the instructions Harry had given her. She soon caught his scentin the cold air and, treading carefully on the icy slabs of the shore, reached the base of the cliff and an almost invisible passage. She paused, a bit annoyed that her Animagusform was unable to use the communication devices, and became human again.

"Wilkins, ready to enter the den."

"Roger, support in position. We have a joint hit team and a muggle one with enablers."

"Good to know," she replied, smiling. The "enablers" were simple pendants enchanted to nullify muggle repelling charms, provided by many ministries in the world to the parents of muggleborns. She knew that her parents were in the 'hit team' and Hawkeye had a brand new .50 rifle and was disturbingly eager to use it. "What about Malfoy Manor?"

"Four Tornadoes loaded with GBU 24 should be off ready to strike, and a whole Squadron is on alert if more are required."

"Great, good luck, guys, Wilkins Out."

She transformed back into a puma and entered the cave. Harry's scent was stronger, and she broke into a run in the tunnel diving into the bowels of Hogwarts. She had been running for a mile when suddenly, the tunnel opened into a large vaulted room, where two people were waiting. She had barely recovered her human appearance when Harry engulfed her in a hug, a rather chaste hug, under the scrutiny of the young girl that was with him. When they broke apart, Hermione examined her.

"You must be Anna?"

The girl watched her in awe.

"You...You are Hermione Granger, aren't you?" Then a wide smile appeared on her face. "We all thought you were dead! And you're an Animagus too...that's so wicked! I can't wait to tell the others!"

"The others?" asked Hermione, looking questioningly at Harry, who shrugged.

"Yes." Replied Anna enthusiastically. "You know, you did set an example for the Muggleborns in the lower years, and many of us have been working hard like you! And since you disappeared, we told the first years about everything you did! About your grades and how you stood up to people like Malfoy or Weasley and how you would prove day after day that ancestry would not matter!"

Harry snorted. "You got quite the fan club here..."

Hermione smiled, reddening, while Anna was bouncing with excitement.

"Shall we proceed, ladies?" eventually asked Harry to break the awkward situation. He walked through an archway leading into a damp tunnel, sparsely lit by globes of a kind of crystal glowing a greenish light. The tunnel was blocked by a wooden door and when Anna whispered some Parseltongue, the door swung open.

Hermione's jaw fell open, at the sight of the huge cavern-like place, the oversized statues and, not the least impressive feature, the sixty foot snake frozen in the last spasms of death.

Harry made a grand gesture and declared "Welcome to the Chambers Of Secrets, Agent Wilkins".

It took a while for Hermione to snap out of her stupor and start walking towards the middle of the chamber. She tentatively put a hand on the Basilisk scales. The monster was in pristine condition, only its head was damaged, with stains of a mix of dried blood and vitreous humour under the eyes pierced by Dumbledore's phoenix three years ago.

"The Basilisk tissues are toxic enough that there are no bacteria able to start the decaying process." commented Harry.

"This carcass must be a gold mine..."

"Yeah, Basilisk parts are rather valuable. And in such a quantity, we'll own the market for a century, even with a hefty share to Hogwarts."

"We?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

"Harry can claim the carcass by Right of Conquest and me, because I own the Chamber and its contents as the Heir of Slytherin." replied Anna. "The Founders put their estates in common while creating Hogwarts, but in the process agreed to keep privileges on tiny parts, for sentimental reasons, I guess. Apart for the Chamber, which was built by Slytherin's ancestors a couple centuries before the founding, there is little evidence of the other founders' parts. Gryffindor's might be just below McGonagall's office and Ravenclaw's the Room of Requirement"

"Oh."

"Yep." Cut in Harry. "Shall we go back to business, then?"

Hermione nodded, and followed Harry towards the other side of the Snake's head.

"Is that?" she asked, pointing to a patch of dried dark liquid.

"Yeah, that's where I stabbed the Diary"

"Fuck me." whispered Hermione.

"Not now, Hermione"

"Harry!" She was about to scold him for his terrible joke when she stopped in front of a kind of stone altar, where three lead boxes were waiting.

"Why lead?"

"They leaked." replied Harry. "Something like that, I mean, when I collected them, I began feeling strange compulsions. I think that three fragments – three being a significant number, arithmancy wise and all – are somewhat stable, you know, some kind of balance. When we brought them close, we could feel pulls on our magic, and they began rattling, as if the Horcruxes were trying to regroup. We had to put them in those containers and to keep them isolated."

Each picked a container and they took places at some distance before opening the boxes, but the items began humming, almost visible tendrils of magic slithering towards them. They quickly shut the boxes.

"Sound like they are whispering, Harry" observed Anna.

"I didn't..." began Hermione, before realization dawned on her. "Yeah, parseltongue."

"One at a time, you reckon?" asked Harry. Hermione and Anna acknowledged silently.

"We should split them." suggested Anna "Behind a door or something. We could put one behind the entrance, in the tunnel..."

"And the other behind the statue, if I can get it to close..." said Harry.

Hermione picked one of the lead boxes with a levitation charm and followed Anna, who hissed the huge door open, while Harry was levitating another one into the tunnel behind the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

The remaining box began to rattle, as if the item inside was sensing the danger. Harry was struggling to dislodge a fang without accidentally poisoning himself.

"Hurry up." said Hermione, levitating the box as close as possible to the basilisk's head. "Justdrop the locket to impale it on a fang, Harry"

"Oh, yes, right."

Harry waved his wand to open the box and then levitated the locket, but when he dropped it on the fang, it slid and felt to the ground. He tried and failed again, and could feel tendrils of magic trying to reach him. He was sweating and his grip on his wand was imprecise, his hand shaking with stress.

"Harry, calm down" said Hermione

"Maybe, if you open it?" suggested Anna.

"Yeah, yeah" replied Harry wiping his brow and taking deep breathes.

"Open" was whispered in parseltongue.

Even if he was bracing himself against this kind of assault, he was overwhelmed at once by a vision. He was in a canyon, crystal water running slowly between sandstone cliffs. Someone was swimming smoothly. It was Hermione, of course, and he watched, fascinated, as she stepped out of the water, naked, and felt a tightness in his pants, a brutal desire for rough sex. But another character appeared, and another. He recognized them from pictures taken in Moab. The Jock and the Nerd, he could not remember their names, and couldn't care, as they were naked, and ready for sex. He saw Hermione smiling to them, leaning in their embraces, moaning under their touches. She made eye contact with him and whispered: "See how cool my life without you is, Harry. You're not worth the trouble, be kind and go bugger yourself with a Basilisk fang while I enjoy my real friends." Then, she sunk on her knees and, after cooing a bit, proceed with a thorough pleasuring of an insanely oversized anonymous penis, while a male voice was saying, mockingly "Yeah, go bugger yourself, Scarhead."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with a nice dick in the ass, son!" said another voice.

Harry blinked. The scenery had changed from the canyon to a room, a posh rendition of the Gryffindor dormitories, but with only a huge four poster bed, where James Potter was mocking him while having sex – doggy style, of course – with Sirius Black.

"You're such a waste."

He spun on his heels, to face his mother. He was somewhat relieved to see she was not having sex with anyone, fully clothed, but it did not last, for contempt was obvious on her face. She was looking at him reprovingly, and, with a venomous voice that would have made Walburga Black flinch, stated: "You're just like your father".

"You're just like your father." Lily Evans was repeating the sentence like a mantra, while her skin was slowly changing, and Harry realised that she was turning into mud.

Something clicked. Maybe the Horcruxhad gone overboard with this last allegory, but Hermione – the real one – and Anna saw him snap out of his trance, grab the locket with his bare hands and pin it on a fang, while yelling "Thereis no such thing as a mudblood!"

The Chamber was filled with a piercing scream, while a cloud of some black substance was trying to escape the locket, and failing, dissolving quickly, while Harry was repeating "Thereis no such thing as a mudblood" again and again.

Hermione rushed to hug him and whisper soothing words, planting small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks. She led Harry away from the poisonous fangs and picked the second box, which began rattling.

"God that thing is perceptive" she said, while Harry was slumping against a wall, exhausted.

He watched Hermione open the box and levitate a struggling diadem towards the Basilisk's head. The Horcrux was almost touching a fang when it suddenly threw itself towards Hermione and Harry watched, terrified, as it settled around her head and she was thrown back across the whole chamber. He scrambled on his feet but found himself on his knees, his vision blurred. As he was trying to move, he did not notice Anna kicking the last box open, grabbing Hufflepuff's cup and stabbing it on a fang in a single swift motion before hurrying towards Hermione.

Hermione was in a world of nonsense. It had started with sheer terror when the Diadem had forcefully settled itself on her head, then a sharp pain when her skull had felt like being split open on the Chamber wall, then nothing.

And now, she was slowly regaining her senses on the wet grass of a meadow. Oh, shit, not again. She could hear birds singing in the distance, the buzzing of an insect flying from flower to flower, and a steady grinding noise she eventually identified as a cow mowing enthusiastically a few feet away. She tried to shake the pain away and stand up. She was still dressed in her camouflage clothes, her wand in its holster, and a gun on her hip. She looked around, the meadow was on the shores of a large lake, and turning a bit, she saw the familiar silhouette of Hogwarts. Familiar, but somehow different, maybe smaller, with some missing features.

She jogged towards the entrance; young people, likely students, were hurrying away from the castle, barely registering her. A young man tried to stop her near the entrance.

"Stop, stranger!"

She paused to consider him: he was a lanky redhead, puffing his chest in a posture of authority, reminding her of a Head Boy of her youth.

"Fuck Off, Weasel!" she barked, shoving him aside, jogging towards where she thought the Great Hall should be, attracted by a commotion. She did not notice some younger students snicker, despite the tense situation, and one of them claim that the pompous git had landed himself a long lasting nickname.

On the threshold of the Great Hall, she was surprised by the ceiling, which was a simple stone vault, not yet enchanted to copy the sky. She quickly tried to assert the situation, and considered the four people remaining in the middle of the hall, involved in a heated argument. She met the eyes of one of the women, who stilled before smiling. Hermione came closer, attracted to those eyes, so familiar, with the exact tint she saw each time she looked into a mirror. The woman smiled in recognition and nodded almost imperceptibly, but the other people noticed her and the argument stopped.

"Who are you?" barked one of the men.

The other one observed her, alternating glances towards the woman. Hermione noticed his somewhat messy hair, and the sword on his hip.

"Rowen, is this who you saw?"

"I think so." replied the woman with a nod "The Diadem brought her to us."

"She's the Chosen One?"

"No, Sal. Things are not that simple. I saw teamwork"

"Let her speak." said the other man.

Slytherin, guessed Hermione, annoyed. Now this farfetched script dropped me at the time of the founders. If this nonsense keeps running, I'll get a lightsabrefrom some kind of greenish dwarf with no sense of syntax and my father will walk into a volcano.

"There's the Chosen One, but alone, he's powerless. She's my long lost heir, and your unexpected one should be around, isn't she?"

Hermione nodded. "She was identified as such a few days ago."

"Perfect: the usurper will fail, and your name will be restored to its true status, Salazar, so stop bitching will you." snapped Ravenclaw, before coming close to Hermione.

"Now it's up to you, dear. You've shown some amazing strength, so it's just a matter of tappinginto this willpower to deal with your Dark Lord. Shoo!"

"Scourgify!" Anna watched the remains of Harry's dinner vanishing from the ground and from his trousers and shook his shoulder. "Come on, Harry! Hermione's stuck with the Diadem."

Fighting his nausea, Harry walked unsteadily towards Hermione, puzzled by the faint glow surrounding the Diadem. Forgetting to think, he tried to touch it, to be thrown back, a couple fingers painfully burnt.

"Dammit, Harry! Do you ever think before rushing head first? Try and pick it with that fancy dagger of yours or...oh gosh" Anna was stopped in mid-rant by the sight of Hermione hovering, bathed in an ethereal glow. Harry grabbed Anna and stepped back, while a scream of agony filled the chamber. A dark substance was oozing from the Diadem, coalescing in mid-air. Suddenly, it lunged at Harry who whipped his dagger to bat it away. The Dagger emitted a flash of bluish light while the gunk was thrown into the middle of the chamber where it exploded in a final cry and a shower of sparks.

"Hermione!"

Harry and Anna rushed at Hermione's side. The glow was fading away and she was lying on the ground, moaning faintly.

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck no." she whispered, rolling on her stomach, to rise on her hands and knees before sitting heavily. She rummaged in a cargo pocket, soon pulling a flask.

"Pain relieving potion anyone?" she asked, rising it in a salute before taking a big gulp.

"Oh gosh. I'm getting tired of all those metaphors and shit."

"How come? Did you meet my mother again?" asked Harry.

"I'd bet for the Founders." said Anna with a chuckle.

"Spot on, kiddo. I think I must pass a message of some kind of Family Greatness and Honour to restore." she replied, sliding the flask back into her pocket.

"You wouldn't have something for nausea, would you?" asked Harry.

Hermione raised an eyebrow: "Another encounter with James?"

"Sort of..."

She rummaged in her pocket, pulled a plastic box and dropped a single pill onto Harry's hand.

"Muggle?"

"Designed for zero-gravity sickness."

"So? What now?" asked Anna, while Harry was swallowing the pill

"Voldemort and his snake are the two remaining soul fragments to destroy." said Harry. "The trick is to locate him. Have you got any intel about his whereabouts?"

Hermione nodded. "Likely Malfoy Manor. The location has been scouted, that's when we caught Wormtail, and the PM has given a clearance for a strike when needed, and..."

She paused in mid-sentence. All three had felt a shudder of sorts from the castle.

"I've got a very bad feeling about this."

"Is he...?"

"Yes, he's here. I feel him, like a taint in my blood."

-x-

Albus (etc) Dumbledore was having yet another Bad Day. Dolores Umbitch – he had taken a liking to the human toad's nickname used by the students – was again on the warpath against him and it was getting on his nerves.

Then, Harry Potter was out of sight again, missing dinner. Those habits of hiding with something to learn he had picked from the Late Know-it-All was also getting on his nerves.

He was so deep in his brooding that he missed the warning the Castle sent from the disturbance in the wards, and he was thinking over his plans for the future when a commotion was heard from outside the Great Hall. He was just standing up when the doors were pushed open and a bloody Caretaker thrown in front of the Staff Table. The cries of surprise of the assembled students were cut short when people wearing dark robes and well-feared masks entered and took place on the sides of the doors, while a single character was making a great entrance.

"Dumbledore, my old friend!"

"I was not expecting your visit Tom."

"Of course not, Headmaster." replied Voldemort in a dismissive voice. "After all, you very well know I've little interest in you, so I'll get to the point. You know, I've been told that to be an efficient villain, one should not waste time gloating and explaining how a genius he is in his evil plans." Then, he surveyed the students frozen at their seats – even Ron Weasley had stopped eating, for the show of a Dark Lord trying to joke was utterly terrifying.

"Where the fuck is Harry Potter?"

"Language, Tom." said Dumbledore in a benevolent voice, having a hard time finding a way to get out of this mess. Duelling Voldemort in the crowded Great Hall was the mother of bad ideas, and by the way, where was the brat? And what was this noise outside? Something sounding like fireworks?

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, Son of Merope!"

Everybody jumped in their seats, and even the Dark Lord was startled by the booming voice. The puzzlement increased when it became obvious that this voice belonged to a young girl, who was glaring at the allegedly most feared wizard around. Dumbledore cocked his head, trying to remember her name, but his deputy beat him.

"Miss Darbishire!"

"Please stay out of this, Professor, this is a family issue I wish to settle with my...uncle." she said with an overplayed distaste.

While everyone was stunned by the declaration – Darbishire is You Know Who's niece?, Dumbledore had noticed Harry Potter standing behind her, fingering his wand, looking amused. It was time to act, give Tom a chance to kill the Horcrux within Harry! He raised his wand and...

"Expelliarmus!"

Severus Snape had seen the Headmaster's gesture and was contemplating a facepalm when, to his surprise, the wand soared across the hall towards the outstretched hand of a young woman, in her twenties, with a dramatic likeness with the late Hermione Granger, only significantly hotter,in a military styled outfit. He saw her shudder when grabbing the handle, then blink, before her face broke into a huge grin.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, old scoundrel! So you had it!" then she stopped. "Harry, didn't he tell you he had your father's cloak to study it?"

Harry rose an eyebrow.

"You are an ugly twisted son of a bitch, you know that? The Potter's lives could have been saved by the cloak, but you were more interested in playing with the Hallows, weren't you?"

"Hem hem"

Everyone turned towards Voldemort who was growing upset with this had not planned his return in such a ridiculous show, and it was spiralling out of control. And what was this noise outside?

"Mulciber! Go and see what's happeningoutside and make it stop!"

The Death Eater walked out of the Hall, but as soon as he has passed the doors, his head disappeared in a bloody mist.

"What the..."

Anna's voice rose again: "Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

"What!"

The Dark Lord spun once again to face the annoying teen and decided to make an example out of her attitude.

"Avada Kedavra!" He had not finished the incantation that he knew that something was amiss. The curse was underpowered and she just sidestepped it, while Potter – dammit, what was it with this brat and the Killing Curse – casually whipped a dagger and absorbed it.

"This is it, Tom Marvolo Riddle. You have sullied and disgraced the name of Salazar Slytherin for far too long. You have spouted nonsense and shamedthe family with narrow minded and bloodthirsty behaviour, and I call upon Magic to judge your unworthiness in belonging to the realm of the Founders Lines."

Silence fell on the crowd. Dumbledore felt a shift in the Castle wards. The girl was invoking the Old Laws: it required three people related to the Founders to enforce them. Harry was one of them, but he was not aware of this inheritance, was he? And what about the third?

His first question was immediately answered when Harry stepped forward:

"I, Harry James Potter, second the request, as Heir of the Gryffindor bloodline." A brief golden glow surrounded him and it felt like the Castle's magic.

"I, Hermione Jane Granger, in the stead of Ravenclaw, support the request." A brief but strong blue glow.

Dumbledore shook his head, to try and wake out of this bad dream, but for naught. And now, there was movement at the Gryffindor table.

"I, Neville Franck Longbottom, act proxy for the House of Hufflepuff, and support the request." Another strong glow. Neville stepped forward, and smiled.

"Welcome back Hermione."

Hermione nodded with a smile.

Anna stepped forward and raised her wand, trying to clear her mind and focus on the connection she could feel to the castle. The three others felt compelled to do the same and they felt the Castle's magic flowing through them and gathering around Voldemort, probing him, and the Dark Lord frown, annoyed at first, then concerned. Fear adorned his snake like features and soon, panic, when he had to drop his now burning wand.

"My Lord!" yelled Bellatrix Lestrange, launching herself towards the group with a curse on her lips.

Unfortunately for the Dark Lord's Lieutenant, she targeted Hermione and Dumbledore saw a woman step from the group of armed people who had gathered outside the hall, and yell "Don't touch my daughter, you bitch" before lodging a couple bullets in her chest. Voldemort barely noticed, for he was falling on his knees in great pain. The Founder's heirs lowered their wands.

"Thanks, Merlin"

Many looked at the Potions Teacher, who was slumped into his chair, his left sleeve pulled up, his Dark Mark fading away.

"That was rather anticlimactic." stated Harry.

Hermione scowled.

"You've got an unfinished job here, sweetheart," she said, taking his hand in hers.

"Yeah," he whispered, sliding his wand in his wrist holster.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of Merope Gaunt, today ends the feud between our lines." he claimed, unsheathing the Dagger. Anna signalled him, mouthing "blood price". He nodded, adding: "For you paid the price in Magic and Blood." The former Dark Lord eyes widened and the Dagger almost flew by itself straight into his heart.

There was a long silence, and then a cheer rose from Gryffindor table where the Weasley twins were putting on a show. Harry whipped his wand and petrified them.

"George and Frederick Weasley, your behaviour since you set foot in this place was a shame. Under the facade of jokesters, you are nothing but sadists and greedy bullies, and I despise bullies more than Dark Lords. I was weak and naïve to lend you a thousand Galleons and let you have your way with them. This will be dealt by the Goblins, since I do not want to be associated with the both you whatsoever. For I was always welcomed by your family, and discarding the appalling behaviour of your younger brother, I will not declare a feud against the Weasleys"

"Harry, my boy..."

"Don't 'my boy' me Headmaster." cut Harry "You've been useless in this story. You gambled in a way that condemned me to sacrifice, but I could as well have joined Voldemort. I could have joined Voldemort if nothing had been left to me to fight for. I could have joined Voldemort if you had managed to take the woman I love from me. Ironic, no? I do remember the talk you gave me on the ability to love as my strength, and yet you tried to take Hermione from me. Fortunately, she was far stronger than you thought, and it's her love that saved us all."

He shook his head sadly, made a wide gesture to the Great Hall. "This place was the only place I remember feeling like home, and you took this from me this year."

He walked away, towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Miss Granger!" said Dumbledore genially "I'm so glad the news of your death was unfounded."

Hermione faked bewilderment. She looked at Anna, then at Neville, and said in a stage whisper : "He's worse than I remembered. Don't you Brits have retirement plans or shit? That would come handy for him..."

Neville shrugged.

"I thought so. And by the way, Headmaster, it's Special Agent Wilkins to you. Even if Magic has a thing for my former self, the Hermione Granger you knew is long gone, since your little trick last year. "

The whole Great Hall was silent. Echoes of spellfire came briefly from the courtyard, then silence again. A wizard – for he was holding a wand – in full SAS gear came in.

"Cleanup done, Wilkins. Seven dead, sixteen injured and eleven others in perfect condition. No casualties for us, couple scratches and lumps."

"Thanks, I guess we're done there. What about Malfoy Manor?"

"The Snake showed itself, but we saw it thrashing before busting in flames. The Tornadoes are on hold, shall we level the buildings?"

She shrugged. "Are you positive about the snake?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"So cancel the airstrike and let the wiz deal with the Manor. There might be interesting stuff in there, history wise."

She nodded towards the crowd and walked away, juggling with Dumbledore's wand. Her first genuine smile appeared when she caught sight of her father, casually leaning against a pillar with a sniper rifle in his hands. As she was coming closer, he grabbed the wand in mid-air before his daughter.

"Oh. It's none of yours" he said, handling the wand back. Hermione grabbed it and frowned. Her eyes widened in realisation and she began to laugh almost hysterically, to the point she had to sit down.

"What's so funny?"

Hermione stood up, and holding her father by the waist, began the tale:

"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight..."

-x-

Packing had been quick, since he had all almost all his things in his trunk; dragging it to the seventh floor was easy after casting a featherlight charm, and after a last glance to the Tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls, Harry stepped though the Room of Requirement door into the Island. He reached the house after a quick walk and grabbed the emergency exit portkey, landing in a heap into a lobby of sorts. He noticed two armed guards and, remembering Hermione's instructions, kept his hands visible.

He was soon relieved when Hermione's boss entered the area, followed by a middle aged woman who held her hand, introducing herself:

"Hello, Mr Potter, I'm Soledad Garneros, welcome to America."

EPILOGUE. Nineteen Hours Later.

One of the perks of spending winter time in Scotland is that you can have the lie-in of your life, you will not be awoken at an ungodly hour by the sunlight.

And thus, the drawback of moving from Scotland to Utah in January was an earlier and brighter sunrise.

It took quite some time for Harry to get a grasp on the situation. He was lying in a bed. A real bed, not a overly fluffy thing draped with heavy curtains. There was an orange cat purring near his feet. He almost cried with relief and cuddled against Hermione who was sleeping deeply.

When he woke up again, the sun was away from the bed. Hermione was facing him, awake.

"Good morning, Harry." she said with a peck on his lips.

"Good morning, Hermione. Well, I hope it is still morning"

"Yes, thanks to the Time Zones"

They enjoyed staying in each other's arms, then Hermione began to chuckle.

"What's funny?"

"Had you figured that Dumbledore's wand was the Elder Wand?"

"The Hallow?"

She nodded. "I realised when I disarmed him and caught the wand."

"So you are now the Master of the Elder Wand?"

She shook her head and replied: "I left the Great Hall playing with it, and my father stole it."

"And?"

Hermione chuckled again.

"Merlin'sPants. Is your father the True Master of the Elder Wand?"

She nodded.

"But he's a muggle!"

She nodded again.

"Can it work? I mean, it is supposed to choose a wizard? So if there's no magic in the wand's owner...what happened?"

"As far as I can tell, the wand core drained itself trying to connect with dad's. The Death Stick is just that, a harmless piece of wood."

Harry tightened his grip on Hermione's waist. They stayed this way for what seemed to be hours, without a word, contemplating the mere idea of a future. For once, he was allowed to think about a future, like an open sky, and he loved flying.

All would be well.

Author notes :

Here we are, SRW is now done. Sorry for the hectic schedule, real-life and muse betrayal and all. Some parting thoughts:

In this chapter is the ultimate explanation of the origins of the name "Weasley". Yet another time Paradox!

The cliché of the chapter was "Neville is Hufflepuff's heir", or something alike. Did I get it right with a cliché per chapter? Not sure...

I'm still not very pleased with this story, happy to have reached the end but disappointed by my lack of effort towards a better polishing, less plot holes and better characterisation, for the dead-ends (for instance, the stone Hermione founds in Monument Valley with a lightning bolt shaped glyph, all the Moab characters who disappear from the story), and all the easy tricks filling space. Then, I find myself a bit complacent on the "shoot first think later", make the story sound like bad NRA propaganda, and it's not my usual state of mind: even if I lived in Arizona where you can buy and carry concealed weapons like lollipops – all my American friends out there do – I would not because I just would not trust myself with firearms.

And last but not least, I must praise Tommy (Tumshie1960) who was kind enough to point out the many blunders, typos, capitalisation failures and all kind of frenchisms in the text. I learned that you cannot trust a spell/grammar checker very far. Nor your beliefs in your own skills.

On the bright side, when I went back to previous chapters, I found that some parts are not so bad, even pleasant to read so there might be hope at some point. So for those who where kind enough to add me to their Author Alerts, you might get some news from your faithful anytime soon.

Cheers, and thank you for reading this story!