Emma Potter; Going to War

125: The end of it

Since I had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and I wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore. 

 "Can we go up?" Zoe asked the gargoyle. 

 "Feel free," groaned the statue. 

 We clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry and I pushed open the door at the top. I had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where he had left it, and then an earsplitting noise made me cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort — But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving us a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted; Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!" 

 But Harry and I had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled me with the same balm as phoenix song. 

 At last, I held up my hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for us to speak. I directed our words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though I was, I must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice. 

 "The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," I began, "we dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but we're not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

 "My dear girl, I do," said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?" 

 "No one," said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction. "I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though," said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed.

 "But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"

 "And then there's this." I held up the Elder Wand, and Zoe, Ron and Hermione looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, I did not like to see. 

 "I don't want it," I said. 

 "What?" said Ron loudly. "Are you mental?" 

 "I know it's powerful," I said wearily. "But I was happier with mine. So . . ." 

I gently pulled the pouch hanging from my brother's neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Ollivander had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All I knew was that if this did not work, nothing would. I laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said, "Reparo."

As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. I knew that he had succeeded. I picked up the wand, and held out my hand. Empty as Draco got his wand back, Harry gave me a glowing look and handed my wand back. I accepted the  phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in my fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.

 "I'm putting the Elder Wand," I told Dumbledore, who was watching us with enormous affection and admiration, "back where it came from. It can stay there. If we die a natural death like Ignotus and his, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

 Dumbledore nodded. We smiled at each other. 

 "Are you sure?" said Zoe. There was the faintest trace of longing in her voice as she looked at the Elder Wand. 

 "I think Emma's right," said Hermione quietly. 

 "That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry.

 "And quite honestly," I turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four poster bed lying waiting for him in Slytherin Tower, Draco's sweatshirt and wondering whether Kreacher might bring me a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

----

The next day:

- Emma would sit Harry and Draco down and make them sort out their rivalry. With Ron, Nicholas, Zoe and Hermione as very amused witnesses

Emma: Right, so you are my boyfriend and you are my brother. I would like it if you got along. 

Nicholas: You may as well have asked Granger to give up books. 

Ron: Shut up! 

Hermione: It's true. . .but shut up!

Emma: if all your comments are like that then go snog Zoe, Nick. 

Hermione sniggers

Harry raises his eyebrows

Ron side-eyes the couple in question

Nicholas blushes red

Draco smirks

Zoe plans her friend's murder. 

Emma: Right, Harry, what's your problem with Draco?

Draco: He hates me because I'm better than him. 

Harry: *looks at Emma* can I punch him with a knife?

Ron: I'll help!

Zoe: Me too!

Draco: We were friends first, Anderson!

Zoe: Yeah, 6 years and you still call me Anderson. That's not my real name you know. 

Emma: The only person who has the liberty to punch someone with a knife is me-- *ignores protests*--and just answer the question, Harry. 

Harry: My problem is that he is dating my little sister--

Emma: For the last time---WE'RE TWINS

Harry: Same difference. 

Draco smirks and puts an arm around Emma's waist and pulls her closer to him. 

Emma *blushing red*: NOT the time. 

Draco: You're my girlfriend. It's always the time.

Harry: Kreacher!

Kreacher *appears*: Yes, Master.

Harry *with an angelic smile on his face*: Please get me a knife. 

Emma: NO! Kreacher do not get him a knife! I'm sorry to have bothered you, you can go. 

Kreacher leaves confused. 

Harry *glances at Zoe and Ron*: We can kill him with a gun

Hermione: NO. 

Ron/ Nicholas/Draco: What's a gun?

Emma: NEVER MIND. Harry, don't kill my boyfriend. And apart from him being my boyfriend, what's your problem with Draco. 

Harry: he is an annoying, blonde git. 

Draco: Yeah?

Harry: Yeah!

Draco: Well you're a--scrawny, specky. . .idiot!

Hermione is torn between wanting to laugh and rolling her eyes. 

Ron is bored. 

Nicholas is fed up. 

Zoe doesn't know what to do.

Emma *glances at Hermione*: Kill me, kill me now.