Epilogue: When It’s All Picture-Perfect

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Victory Photo

By Mad_Chatters_Tea_Party

Disclaimer: This frisky little farce is based on concepts and characters set forth in the "Harry Potter" novels by J.K. Rowling, who is in no danger of being mistaken for us, nor vice versa. For one thing, our epilogues are funny... on purpose.

Epilogue: When It's All Picture-Perfect

The Daily Prophet,

April 21, 1999

VICTORY!

Ann Deshcreet, staff reporter

Rejoice, wizards and witches! We don't know the precise hour, or the exact circumstances, but a team of Aurors, a throng of reliable witnesses, and no less a personage than the Minister of Magic himself have confirmed it: As of last night, Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny and completely defeated 'the wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle.'

We can also thank young Mr. Potter for this new term for the menace we preferred not to name, which he coined in his sole statement to the Ministry and the press: "The wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle is dead. The Ministry can put his remains wherever they like. I've done my job and would appreciate it if they would kindly sod off."

Although this reporter regrets their brevity, it is hard to blame Mr. Potter and the young heroes of the Final Battle for their reluctance to speak at length, not after the hellish experiences the previous night, the likes of which would bring most worldly, experienced adults to their knees. Nor do we blame their professors for their own reticence to elaborate on the experience. Under the circumstances, this reporter deems it a show of laudable decorum that all of them simply stated that 'Everyone did their duty,' with voices variously terse or trembling with emotion, faces pale but resolute.

Why, you may ask, has the text of this history-making story been relegated to page two?

Look at the photo gracing the cover of this edition, good readers. The sparse quotes and meager information available at this time can do little to enhance the image that completely fills the front of this publication. If ever a picture was worth a thousand words, it's this one.

There are several images from the conference, all showing a throng of moony-eyed young war veterans and their haggard teachers, the damage to their bodies...and spirits...downplayed. Yet in years to come, wizards and witches all over the world will show their children the photo featured on the front page.

Look closely, and you will find all the details in their faces, the range of expressions captured for posterity. Not unexpectedly, Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley, stand on either side of Mr. Potter. Lesser people might have taken for granted their right to stand by the conqueror's side, considering all these three have reportedly accomplished together over the years. But Miss Granger stands with her hands almost hidden in the sleeves of her robes, her eyes demurely downcast, the very picture of becoming modesty, and Mr. Weasley alternates between directing a self-effacing smile at the camera and over his shoulder at one Miss Patil, a lovely Ravenclaw student. Mr. Weasley's little sister Ginevra likewise has a place of honour in the front of the photo, hand-in-hand with Mr. Potter and occasionally letting her head rest tiredly, confidingly, on his shoulder.

They are far from the only obvious young sweethearts in the photo. It will suffice to point out one particularly exemplary pair, that of Mr. Neville Longbottom and Miss Luna Lovegood. With their clasped hands, shy glances at each other, and rosy cheeks, they are the epitome of chaste young love. A budding naturalist, Miss Lovegood also holds high a jar containing a very valuable specimen, possibly a Dark Creature captured during the course of the battle. (See 'Yes, Virginia, There Are Nargles,' page 8.)

More surprising is that Draco Malfoy, once considered a fugitive from justice but since fully exonerated by virtue of his risky endeavours as a spy for the forces of Light, likewise holds a place of honour near Mr. Potter. The looks exchanged between Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Weasley are somewhat difficult to interpret, given that their eyes are red-rimmed, likely from high emotion and the haze of spellfire; but it seems that war has forged what was allegedly once a fierce Quidditch rivalry into a bond of allegiance and esteem.

Indeed, traditional prejudices and rivalries cannot be found anywhere among this cadre of survivors with people from all houses supporting those who suffered unusual hexes...some resulting in simple wounds, others leaving their victims with more peculiar difficulties, including the breastplate of a suit of armor affixed to Mr. Macmillan, the slime coating Mr. Carter, and a decidedly unnatural shade of green afflicting one Madam Hooch, flying instructor. The wounded seem to include a disproportionate number of Quidditch players. One might go so far as to say that the final battle for the safety of the Wizarding world was won on the Quidditch pitch of Hogwarts. (See: 'Colours United...Complete Rosters of All Four Hogwarts Quidditch Teams,' page 2, Sports Section.)

One cannot broach the topic of Slytherins and redemption without mentioning the most reviled yet possibly the most heroic Slytherin of them all, the spy Severus Snape. With only the most rudimentary knowledge of the deeds he was forced to perform in the course of his duties, one could speculate ad infinitum on what a tortured conscience he must live with. It is little wonder that he seems to be trying to sidle out of the frame, hoping to remain unnoticed. It is a testimony to the degree to which he has been forgiven these necessary evils when you see Ministry official Percy Weasley personally escort Mr. Snape back into the frame, the grimly determined look on his young face seeming to say, 'You, too, deserve credit here.' It should be noted that it was Mr. Weasley's idea to take this photo, arguing that the faces of the victors present a far more eloquent account of the battle than words spoken while on the brink of exhaustion. (see Editorial Debate, page 5...'Percy Weasley: Is This the Sort of Dignity That Should Characterise a Proper Minister of Magic?')

Other redeemed Slytherins making a good showing in the photo include Messers. Crabbe and Goyle, beaming at the viewer beside Misses Grayson and Slade of Hufflepuff in a charming image of what reconciliation and unity can look like.

Lest anyone suspect that all this camaraderie is somehow staged, the utter candidness of the photo is proven by a flurry of motion in one corner. If the attentive reader looks closely, it is possible to spot Mr. Fred and George Weasley, successful entrepreneurs with a reputation for mischief, being pulled into the frame at the last moment by one Miss Parkinson of Slytherin House. Rumour has it that she retrieved them from the infirmary just so that they would not miss being part of this historic photograph.

It is all refreshing evidence that, despite their impressive accomplishments, these warriors remain normal, wholesome teenagers and fine examples for the generation to come.

Quotes seem superfluous. One need only peruse this image of collective valour, with Harry Potter at the forefront. It can all be summarised by the expression on his face: humble, thoroughly exhausted, yet oddly satisfied. It is completely understandable...after all, hadn't he had the hardest night of anyone? And of all those present, had he not most richly earned the right to reap the pleasures of victory?

Minerva put down the paper and regarded Albus' portrait. She was sure there was a chuckle hiding in the snores, somewhere.

"Go ahead and pretend to sleep while you still can. Once the real story gets out--and the way Mr. Potter is carrying on with both of the objects of his affections, that will probably be some time in the next fifteen minutes--your garish little statue will no longer be the loudest thing in this castle."

Dumbledore's lips twitched beneath his painted beard.

Minerva sighed and surreptitiously reached under the edge of her collar to adjust her silver teddy with the blue feather trim. She just couldn't quite bring herself to put the pink dragon-scale one back into the rotation yet.

FIN

Editor's notes:

Developed from a chatroom session with Aturia, dracontia, and shalimar1981, with contributions from JustDesmond.

The hapless reporter who wrote what amounts to a superfluous description of a photograph has not one clue that her story is but a long and ironic exercise in innuendo.

Dracontia apologizes profusely for letting real life get in the way of finishing the revision of the epilogue, for constantly annoying the snot out of the decent people who contributed to this story, but most of all, for being a pompous twit who will no doubt be visited by the angry ghost of the Duke of Wellington for utterly corrupting the 'Battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton' quote.