Epilogue: The Lightningbolt Scar

"I never asked for my lightningbolt scar. I never asked for Tom Riddle to set me apart from the rest of the magical world. I never asked for him to kill my parents, or to constantly try to kill me. I never asked for the attention I got as a young Hogwarts students, the others staring and pointing and talking about the attention-needy Boy Who Lived. I never asked to have to be the one writing this book. I never asked for my lightningbolt scar, but Tom gave it to me.

......And that was his undoing..."
-Excerpt from "The Lightningbolt Scar"

15 Years Later

"Harrison, for god’s sake, stop!"

Lily Ann’s older brother scowled at her, pulling away from his girlfriend whom he hadn’t seen in a few days.

"Oh, don’t bother your brother, Lily, I know you’ll be at George as soon as he gets here," Amelia sighed, looking for her youngest child, and greatest menace. "Have you lot seen Rubeus?"

"Here, mum," came a voice from behind a trolley. "Why can’t I take Fang to school with me?"

"Because dogs aren’t allowed unless you’re Rubeus Hagrid," Harry grinned, scratching their dog on the ears. "And you’re just Rubeus Sirius. Besides, he’s not even allowed on the platform, so be glad he’s here."

Sirius sighed, blowing his long, messy brown hair out of his blue eyes. Lily was a striking miniature of her mother, and Harrison had every feature that his father did down to the white scar on his forehead, even though it was different from the famed, and now missing, lightning bolt.


"Ron!" Harry grinned, clasping him in a hug. "Wondering where you were."

"Not at another one of your ruddy book signing, if that’s what you’re asking," Ron joked.

Harry had released a complete autobiography of his experiences with Voldemort and what happened at the Battle, when Rubeus was born. The wizarding world had bought it up quickly, and to this day it remained on the list of 50 Best Selling Books, as Harry had never given a single interview about the War. The book was the only answer the world would ever have to what happened, and they had no other choice but to accept it as the truth that it was. Harry had set up an account for all the book’s proceeds to go into, and the money was used to help fund the continuing rebuilding of the Wizarding world.

"But no, Head Girl over here almost forgot a few books at home," Ron jerked his thumb at Abigail.

She shook her curly red locks out of her eyes. "Dad! Please! It is the most important book I have!"

"If you need anything from Hogwarts; A History, you can run up to your mum’s office and ask her, love," Ron said. "She memorized the book before I ever asked her out."

"Because you took four billion years!" Amelia laughed.

The baby in her stomach kicked back, and she rubbed it. Harry smiled and did the same. Four children for the Potters seemed like a lot, but they loved them all, even the little girl still waiting to be born. The Weasleys, surprisingly, had Abigail and her younger brother, Albus, with whom Rubeus was the best of friends, and first years together. Billy and George’s boys, George Junior and Arthur, were as much of a menace as their father and his brother had been at Hogwarts, and currently in their fifth year with Lily. Bill and Fleur’s girl, Fabriccia, was in fifth year as well, and best of friends with Abigail and Lily.

Ginny and Draco’s son, Sidney, was a third year and top of his class in Defense. Draco worked with Ginny in managing Weasley’s Pride, and helped run a foundation to find and convict all surviving Death Eaters and Dark organizations. Fred had finally reunited with Isabel and Angelina, both of whom were slightly neurotic from their experiences and had to live in a stabilized setting, in a Ministry sponsored community for such people. Isabel, now old enough to be a Hogwarts graduate, was privately tutored for another year before being given her certifications.

Now, though, Amelia waved her children off on the train. It was so hard to imagine that those anxious faces had belonged to her, and Harry, and all their friends, years ago. They stood on the platform, watching the scarlet train slowly puff out of the station. Her oldest son waved from a window, and as he passed she heard someone say, from behind her,

"Is that Harry Potter? Did you see his scar? Lord Voldemort gave him that scar..."

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