Chapter 47 : Epilogue
| ||Rating: 12+||Chapter Reviews: 190|
Background: Font color:
“First year at Hogwarts?” Malkin asked.
“Yes, Madam,” Addison responded.
“Right this way dear,” Malkin said as she turned and walked to where there was another dark headed boy being fitted for his robes.
Addison stepped up onto the platform next to the dark headed boy as the boy looked over at him and asked, “Are you going to Hogwarts as well?”
“Yes,” Addison responded.
“So am I,” Flint said.
“So I gathered since you’re being fit for a Hogwarts robe,” Addison said with a smirk.
“My name is Brock Flint,” Flint said.
“Addison,” Addison said, purposely leaving off his last name.
“I’ve been waiting ages to get into Hogwarts,” Flint said. “My dad was the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team when he was at Hogwarts. Do you play quidditch?”
“Yes,” Addison said. “I’m a seeker.”
“I’m a chaser,” Flint said. “I really love to get in there and bust some heads.”
“It sounds like you would prefer to be a beater then,” Addison said as Madam Malkin draped a black robe over him.
“Never,” Flint said. “I’m a chaser just like my dad. I’m going to make the team this year and be the best chaser since my dad.”
“First years almost never make the teams you know,” Addison said. “If I’m not mistaken, no first year has made a house team since Harry Potter.”
“My dad told me about him,” Flint said. “He said he always pranced around showing off that scar he had. He seemed to think it made him special or something.”
“I take it that your dad didn’t,” Addison said.
“Hardly,” Flint said with a chuckle. “If you don’t know already, there are some families who are better than others. Potters are muggle lovers. They’re almost as bad as the Weasleys.”
“Do you know any of them?” Addison asked.
“No,” Flint said. “I don’t have to. My dad told me everything I needed to know.”
“You’re likely to find out more this year,” Addison said. “I hear that Harry Potter’s daughters are starting at Hogwarts this year as well.”
“So I hear,” Flint said with a scowl. “As if one Potter wasn’t bad enough, he had to go and have triplets.”
“He also had twin boys,” Addison said as he glanced over for Flint’s reaction. “They’re two years behind their sisters, so you won’t have to meet them for a while.”
“The three are bad enough,” Flint said with a scowl. “Potter scum.”
“Maybe they won’t be so bad,” Addison said with a grin. “Who knows, you may even find someone you hate even more than them this year.”
“I doubt it,” Flint said. “My dad read it in the daily prophet just this morning. It’s been fifteen years since Harry Potter graduated from Hogwarts, and this mornings front-page story was all about his three daughters coming to Hogwarts. They’re all waiting to see what house they get sorted into. As if there would be any question as to which house they would be sorted into. Like father like daughters.”
“Perhaps,” Addison said.
“All done dear,” Madam Malkin said to Addison. “You can come back in a couple of hours to pick it up.”
“How did he finish before I did?” Flint asked. “I got here before he did.”
“He doesn’t wiggle around as much either,” Malkin said as Addison stepped off of the platform.
“I guess I’ll see you at Hogwarts,” Flint said.
“Count on it,” Addison said with a look of seriousness that made even Flint shudder slightly. “By the way, stay away from the Potter girls. They’re friends of mine, and so are their brothers. You’ll have to deal with me if you so much as touch one of them.”
“You just made the worst mistake of your life,” Flint said through gritted teeth.
“See,” Addison said with a grin. “I told you you’d find someone you hated more.”
“Why would you want to defend them?” Flint asked. “You don’t look like a Weasley.”
“I’m not,” Addison said. “Though the Weasleys are friends of mine as well. My name is Addison Malfoy.”
“Malfoy?” Flint asked as his eyes went wide in anger.
“That’s right,” Addison said. “Draco Malfoy is my dad.”
“You were right then, blood traitor,” Flint said. “You just put yourself at the top of my hit list.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Addison said with a smile as he walked out of the shop.
The first years walked to the doors of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and came face to face with Minerva McGonagall.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” McGonagall said. “In a moment, you will pass through these doors and be sorted into your houses. They are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Follow the rules and work hard, and you will earn points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. Wait here. I will come back for you when everything is ready for the sorting to begin.
“That’s him,” Flint said to two big goons that stood next to him as he pointed at Addison.
“I see Madam Malkin finished your robe,” Addison said calmly.
“You had better keep a watch over your shoulder every day, blood traitor,” Flint said as he took a couple of steps closer to Addison followed by his two goons. “One day you won’t and that will be the day I take care of you.”
“It looks as though you’ve made a friend already, Addison,” a red headed girl said as she stepped to his side.
“I wouldn’t call him a friend exactly, Lily,” Addison said with a grin.
“So, one of the Potter girls had the nerve to show up at Hogwarts,” Flint said.
“We all made the trip,” Molly said as she stepped into view followed by her identical sister Hermione.
“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t have?” Hermione asked.
“If you don’t already know, then you’ll soon find out,” Flint said with a twisted grin.
“I warned you to stay away from them the last time we saw each other,” Addison said.
“I hope they have more protection than you, blood traitor,” Flint said.
“They do,” said a tall boy with broad shoulders as he stepped forward.
“And who are you?” Flint asked.
“The name’s Longbottom,” the tall boy responded. “Frank Longbottom.”
“Well then all we need is a Weasley and that old gang’s kids will all be back together,” Flint said.
“Actually, our cousin Arthur started here two years ago,” Lily said. “I’m sure he’ll be very interested to meet you.”
“They’re ready for you now,” Professor McGonagall said as she stood before them once again. “Follow me, please.”
The sorting was as exciting as it had ever been. Several new students were added to each of the houses. Frank Longbottom was sorted early on into Gryffindor, while Brock Flint surprised no one when he was sorted into Slytherin soon afterwards. They were halfway though the sorting when the Potter girls were finally called.
Lily stepped up and sat on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on her head and said, “I’ve been wondering when I would be getting another Potter under me.”
“You’ll get plenty today,” Lily thought. “There are two just like me waiting to be sorted.”
“Just like you, eh?” The sorting hat asked. “Are you so sure? You’d be surprised the differences I can see.”
“I guess I always assumed we’d go into the same house together,” Lily said.
“Perhaps,” the sorting hat said. “Perhaps not. Now where should we put you? I see you’ve already had a bit of magical training.”
“Think of who my father is,” Lily said. “Mr. constant vigilance.”
“You think he’s being overprotective?” The sorting hat asked.
“Sometimes,” Lily said. “I love him for it though.”
“Smart girl,” the sorting hat said. “Perhaps you would fit well into Ravenclaw. What would you think of that?”
“I don’t mind,” Lily said. “I would be alright with any of them.”
“All right then,” the sorting hat said so everyone in the Great hall could hear. “Gryffindor”
A cheer went up from the Gryffindor table as the sorting hat was lifted off of Lily’s head. Lily walked calmly down to the Gryffindor table and took a seat across from her cousin Arthur.
“Molly Potter,” McGonagall said.
“Interesting,” the sorting hat said as it was placed on Molly’s head. “Different from your sister I think. You have more of your father’s rebellious side in you.”
“So I’ve been told,” Molly said.
“You would do whatever you have to in order to protect your sisters,” the sorting hat said. “Right. Better be Gryffindor!”
Another cheer went up from the Gryffindor table as Molly went and sat next to Frank Longbottom.
“Hermione Potter,” McGonagall said.
Hermione stepped up to the stool, and the sorting hat was placed onto her head as it said, “Well. Quite different indeed, I see something in you that I didn’t see in your sisters. You have a drive in you that is almost an obsession. That kind of drive would tend to indicate a Slytherin trait.”
“I know,” Hermione said. “I thought you might see that.”
“Dear girl,” the sorting hat said, “I see everything. I also see that this drive you have is a thirst for knowledge. I can see that it is only a desire to know, and not one to use what you know for a specific purpose. Tremendous intelligence. An intelligence that would seem to indicate that you should be in Ravenclaw. Studying is nearly constant in that house. Then again, perhaps I should put you in Hufflepuff. Perhaps seven years there would teach you to relax and have a good time.”
“I know how to relax,” Hermione said.
“You know the meaning of it my dear,” The sorting hat said, “but you seem to be deficient in the practice of it. You remind me very much of another student I sorted some years ago. She was all work and no play as well. I believe you know her.”
“Well of course I know her,” Hermione said. “I was named after her. It isn’t easy living up to your namesake.”
“Has she asked you to live up to it?” The sorting hat asked.
“No,” Hermione said.
“So you’ve put that pressure to prove yourself on your own shoulders,” the sorting hat said. “At least you come by it honestly. It was strong in your father as well. So, which house should I put you in?”
“I’d like to be in Gryffindor,” Hermione said.
“Gryffindor?” The sorting hat asked. “That wasn’t one of the options I listed before.”
“I know, sir,” Hermione said. “I’m sorry, but it would mean so much to me to be in Gryffindor with my sisters and my friends.”
“Don’t try to fool me girl,” the sorting hat said. “You don’t want to disappoint your father. As much as you are driven to live up to the intelligence of your aunt, you are more driven not to disappoint your father. Foolish girl. Don’t you know that your father is proud of you for being who you are? He won’t care what house you go into. He won’t love you any less.”
“I guess you’re right,” Hermione said as she held back a tear. “Put me where I belong. And thanks you for helping me to understand why you did it.”
The sorting hat was silent for several seconds as it considered the options before it said out loud, “Gryffindor! Don’t’ make me regret my decision.”
“I won’t,” Hermione said. “Thank you.”
Hermione ran down to the Gryffindor table with a smile on her face. She took a seat next to Lily, but left a space big enough for another to fit in between them. She looked at Lily and winked, which caused Lily to blush instantly. She knew exactly what Hermione was doing.
The sorting progressed, eventually leaving only one person still waiting. Professor Dumbledore sat up in his seat and waited to hear the final result. More so than the Potters, he knew that this last sorting would begin a new prophecy on its course.
“Addison Malfoy,” McGonagall said.
Addison sat on the stool, and the sorting hat said, “Hmmm. More difficult than either of your parents. I guess I could just put you in their old house of Slytherin. What’s this I sense? Disappointment? Ah, I see it now. Don’t try to hide it from me. I can find it no matter how much you try to hide it. Don’t worry. I never reveal what I find. Your secret is safe with me. Still, I don’t place students in houses just because of their feelings for others. Ravenclaw would be the best house for you. They would keep you focused on your studies. I see great things from you, Mr. Malfoy. You have real potential for academic achievement. Still, there are other reasons that have not been revealed to you that I happen to have overheard that would make it necessary for you to join a different house. So it is now up to me to make the decision. Which should I favor more? Potential or prophecy? Sometimes, Mr. Malfoy, we all have to compromise. Gryffindor!”
Most of the Gryffindors were stunned. They knew that the Malfoys had always been in Slytherin. They had assumed that this one would follow in their footsteps. A few of them knew better though.
Hermione turned to look at a beaming Lily and said, “I told you so.”
“Don’t you dare say a word,” Lily said as her face reddened.
Addison walked toward the Gryffindor table and Hermione motioned for him to sit between she and Lily.
“Thanks,” Addison said as he sat down.
The food appeared on the tables, and as the students reached for the food, Addison’s elbow brushed against Lily’s arm. For a brief instant, they both felt it. It was the same strange feeling that they had experienced over the past year. Neither of them knew exactly what the feeling was, but they knew that they couldn’t get enough of it. Of course, neither of them had confessed that they felt it to the other.
Later that evening, Arthur led Frank and Addison to their new dorm to find that two other students were already there.
“Hi,” Arthur said to the two students he didn’t know. “I’m Arthur Weasley. I’ll be in this room with you as well. Allow me to introduce you to Addison Malfoy and Frank Longbottom.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ian said. “I’m Ian Ollivander.”
“Ollivander?” Frank asked. “As in… Ollivanders? The wand maker.”
“He’s my great uncle,” Ian said. “I spent all summer with him trying to learn how to make wands.”
“How was it?” Addison asked.
“Well, I’ll need a few more years before I’m ready to make a wand on my own,” Ian said. “My great uncle is a perfectionist when it comes to the wands he sells.”
“It’s a good thing for all of us that he is,” Arthur said looking over to the other blonde boy.
“I’m Isaac Spinnet,” Isaac said with a small wave to the rest of the group.
“Wait a minute,” Arthur said as he thought back to his fathers stories of his quidditch days at Hogwarts. “There was a Spinnet that played chaser on the Gryffindor team years ago. Are you related to Alicia Spinnet?”
“She’s my mum,” Isaac said with a proud smile.
“I don’t suppose you play quidditch yourself, do you?” Arthur asked.
“Sure I do,” Isaac said. “My mum taught me everything she knew about quidditch.”
“Well I’ll tell you all,” Arthur said with a wide smile, “I see great things for our quidditch team in the coming years. I played as an alternate keeper on the team last year. Addison is one of the best seekers I’ve ever seen, and now we have a chaser among us.”
“Well just don’t ask me to try it,” Frank said. “I’ll stay as close to the ground as I can if you don’t mind.”
“You can count me out as well, I’m afraid,” Ian said. “My family makes wands, not brooms.”
“It’s destiny,” Arthur said. “I’m telling you. Do any of your realize what dorm room we’re standing in right now?”
“Uh, ours?” Addison asked. “Speaking of that, what are you doing in here with the first years?”
“I told you,” Arthur began, “destiny. Two years ago I was placed in this dorm with four other sixth years. For five years they had gone with only four people in the dorm. Last year they all graduated leaving me in the dorm all by myself. Just in time to be joined by you all.”
“Coincidence,” Addison said.
“Really?” Arthur asked. “Let me show you all something.”
Arthur led them all over to a corner of the room and pointed to the floor. There before them were carved the initials, D.T., S.F., N.L., R.W., and H.P.
“This was their room until fifteen years ago,” Arthur said. “Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.”
“Wicked,” Isaac said as he stared at the carvings.
“I still say it was a coincidence,” Addison said. “Arthur, you and Frank may have ended up here because this is where your dads stayed, but what about the rest of us? There isn’t a Thomas, Finnigan or Potter around.”
“Maybe not,” Arthur said, “but are you or are you not the godson of my Uncle Harry.”
“That isn’t the same as blood,” Addison argued.
“He was a seeker,” Arthur pointed out. “You’re a seeker.”
“My dad was a seeker,” Addison said as he rolled his eyes. “I almost didn’t end up in Gryffindor at all. The sorting hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw.”
“Uncle Harry says the sorting hat almost put him in Slytherin,” Arthur said.
“Can you imagine what things might be like if that had happened?” Frank asked.
“I wonder how the prophecy would have turned out then,” Ian said.
Addison looked at Ian with a look that Arthur caught as he asked, “What’s the matter, Addison? Does that mean something to you?”
“It just reminded me of something the sorting hat said before it sorted me into Gryffindor,” Addison said. “It said it had overheard something that made it necessary for me to be in Gryffindor, even though I belonged in Ravenclaw. It picked prophecy over potential.”
“Prophecy?” Frank asked. “What prophecy?”
“I don’t know,” Addison said. “It was the first I had heard of it.”
“Whatever it is,” Arthur said with a suppressed excitement, “it has something to do with our man, Addison here. Now you have to admit that the similarities are bloody obvious. Would you like me to show you which bed Uncle Harry slept in, Addison?”
“I wonder if Harry knows what this is all about,” Addison said too lost in his own thought to pay any attention to Arthur’s foolishness.
Harry paced again and again across his office, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on his work. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else since Professor Dumbledore first informed him about the new prophecy on the previous day. Ginny had tried to console him, but Harry knew better than anyone what it was like to be the subject of a prophecy and not be given the details of it. He had resented it for years that he had been kept in the dark about a great many things during his childhood. He had sworn that he would never let his own children grow up without information they might need to know about.
Yet Harry continued to pace. He fought
with his own instincts to decide what his course of action should be. His instincts told him to tell the children everything he knew. What was left of his reason fought back with a new understanding of a rationale for not doing so. Deep inside of him, Harry knew that information was kept from him to protect him. It was divulged to him only at a time when he was ready and able to deal with the information. Still, it wasn’t fair, and he wanted better for his children.
Harry knew he had to pull himself together. He knew that a group was already assembled outside his office waiting for him to come and speak to them. He couldn’t put it off forever though. As much as he wished it would, life didn’t stand still just because he wanted it to.
Harry took a deep breath, and opened his office door. As he had suspected, a hush fell over the room beyond as those gathered waited to hear what he had to say.
Harry cleared his throat as he walked to the front of the room and said, “Welcome to your first year Defense Against the Dark Arts class here at Hogwarts. I’m Professor Potter, and I’ll be your instructor. You won’t need your books during class. I don’t use them. I will assign readings from the book for you to do outside of class. While we are in class, we will be working on practical defensive magic. Most of your first year will be spent learning how to defend yourselves against unfriendly spells and creatures. It may sound a bit boring, but I can assure you that you had better stay on your toes. I have been known to spring surprise attacks on students just to see how they respond. Outside of this class, I hope to be a friend to you all, but inside of this class you should never trust me. I’ll do my best to teach and to trick. You must remain vigilant at all times. Now, before we begin our first lesson, are there any questions.”
A young wide-eyed Ravenclaw boy raised his hand and asked, “Do you really have the wand? The double wand from your battle with Voldemort.”
Harry grinned. He had gotten the same question from almost every first year class since he began teaching. He pulled out his wand, and there was a collective gasp of appreciation around the room. The only ones not affected by the sight of his wand, were those on the front row.
“What about the scar?” A blonde Gryffindor girl asked.
Harry brushed the hair back off of his forehead and said, “It isn’t nearly as prominent as it was when I was your age. It seemed to fade considerably after Tom Riddle died. Tom was more commonly known as Voldemort just in case some of you didn’t already know. Are there any more questions?”
Five hands immediately went up in the front row. Harry looked at his three daughters sitting there with their mother’s red hair and his own green eyes. Addison and Frank sat beside them with their own hands in the air.
“Do you have a question, Lily?” Harry asked.
“Yes, da… I mean, Professor,” Lily said. “Do you know anything about a prophecy concerning Addison?”
Harry could barley contain his surprise. Somehow, his daughters had heard about the existence of the new prophecy. He wondered just how much they really knew about it.
“I take it that the look on your face means you do know something about it,” Lily said as she tied to will the information out of her father.
Harry knew that he was trapped. Whatever conflict he had within himself about telling them, it was not enough to make him lie to his daughter when asked a direct question. He knew he was going to tell them everything he could to prepare them for what was coming.
His daughters knew it as well. They had known him for long enough to know when they had managed to tug hard on the strings of their father’s heart. Whatever the prophecy was, it was something that troubled him deeply.
As he considered his words, Harry looked at the expectant faces of those in the front row of his class. He had thought the year he had been Ginny’s teacher was awkward. The look of satisfaction he could see in his daughter’s faces was enough to tell him that he was in for a rough seven years.
Thank all of you so much for making this a fun story for me to write. I have enjoyed all of your reviews. For all of those who have said thet they were sad to see this story end, I want you to know that I have written a one shot sequel called "My Past, My Future" that will come up soon. Thanks you all once again. Happy reading.
Other Similar Stories
The Days of ...
by Crystal Frost