The Time of My Life

Hello, fellow readers! This is 12.

I hope this story will bring you closer to Harmony and will be of good taste to your liking.

Remember: This is my first fanfiction story, so bear with me. Enjoy! :D

I remember that chilly winter morning that the reporter came to my country house to interview me. My 3 children were students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry so they weren't going to be home until the Christmas holidays. My wife was a Ministry Of Magic employee so she was off at work in London. (Mental note: One day I actually have to find out what she does.) I worked at the Ministry as well, being an Auror, and I would've gone with her today as usual, but I had that day off.

Then I heard the knock of the door. I expected it to be my friend because we were supposed to meet later that afternoon, but I opened my front door and saw a small, thin witch with golden brown hair. Her black wire rim glasses made her engaging blue eyespop out at you. She carried a very, very old type-writer, so I assumed it was a magical one, the kind that a reporter might carry. Her pale face gave such a forceful expression that I could have mistaken her for a really good entrepreneur.

I'll take them all, was the first thought that came to my mind.

"Excuse me?" the little witch asked so curiously, I figured that I must have said that out loud.

"I'm sorry!" I exclaimedhurriedly.

"About what?" she enquired. It was then that I realized that I must not have said that.

"Forget about it. Who are you?"

"Ha! Now I'm sorry! Where are my manners? My name is Violet DéJeanbeau. I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet. And you're Mr. Harry Potter I assume—"

"Oh, God. Save me now. It's another bloody wanker. I thought I had Confunded all of them already," I whispered to myself.

"I'm sorry?" the reporter asked in a much higher voice now.

"Never mind. So why are you here?"

"Oh, I'm here because I'm writing a biography sponsored by my superiors at the Daily Prophet about you. I've already been to your friend's, Ronald Weasley's, home in London and he pretty much gave me all the necessary information for my book. However, he could not give me your account about what happened to you between when you were last seen in the Battle of Hogwarts and when you reappeared, apparently…dead."

"I'm sorry, but that could take a little while." Along with loads of patience maybe, I thought.

"I've got all day. Come on, it's just a few questions. Like, uh, 'fill in the blanks' questions, if you will."

"Oh, fine. But it looks like I'll have to cancel my meeting with Ron this afternoon."

"Already done."

"Hmm," I said. This woman wasa bloody wanker and she was presumptuous.She was definitely pretty sure of herself. "Then, uh, come on in, take a seat and let us begin."

And the little witch entered and propped up a chair and said, "So, Mr. Potter, start from the beginning if you please."

Where to start? I thought.

After the Dark Lord, Voldemort, my archenemy, had offered mercy to Hogwarts School in exchange for my presence with him in the Forbidden Forest, I had decided to proceed to the Headmaster's office to use the Pensieve, the tub of memories.

I arrived at the office and my heart uplifted when I saw its homey interior once again. Nothing had changed since the last time I was there: Its high walls, lined with books and portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts, stood high in the moonlight shining through the windows. Its shelves were still packed with their little knick-knacks and gizmos. The carpets with the peculiar patterns were still unrolled. In the middle of the office stood the Headmaster's desk. Hung on the wall, behind the desk, was the portrait of Hogwarts' last greatest Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, taking a snooze.

I turned away from the desk towards the cupboard where the Pensieve was kept. I opened the cabinet and pulled out the Pensieve. I took out a small vial filled with a clear white substance and poured it into the tub. I plunged my face in the tub and gazed upon the memories of the late Severus Snape.

["Some of these memories were probably very private for him so I won't bore you with the details," I told the reporter witch with great relief because I didn't want this interview to last forever.

"Oh well," the reporter said regrettably as if to make me guilty.

"Anyways..."]

I suddenly emerged from the Pensieve with distraughtback into the familiar circular room. Everything was still in their proper places, but to me the whole room was different: Every wall stood blank and robbed of their precious joys that kept the room alive. Every book was out of place. Every portrait was lacking their royal company. Every shelf was empty and every carpet was rolled up and was leaning up against the bare walls looking for comfort.

I had just learned a horrifying truth from the tub of memories; a truth that would change both my fate and the fate of the entire wizarding world. I just learned that in order to defeat Lord Voldemort and end the war once and for all…I had to die.

I decided to take this truth under advisement and decided to leave for the Forest immediately to save my friends and the world. And so I went off towards the Forest to confront my fate.

"That can't be right!" the reporter exclaimed, clutching her magical type-writer as if she was about to use it as a magical baseball bat to beat the information out of me.

"It's true. Every word," I told her, just to get her off my back and out of my house, with her type-writer.

"No! I mean you can't just leave it like that! You've obviously left some stuff hanging in the air!" And she put down her type-writer and was now standing up.

"And for good reason! The little details don't really matter as long as you have the basics!" I was now in complete panic and was now trying to give her a little, uh… a little nudge out the door.

"But the small details are everything! Everything! We're finishing this interview whether you want to or not." She definitely sounded like she wasn't ever going to let this go. Not easily anyway, because she was now fully spread out and was pushing against the doorframe, so there was no forcing her out.

"Fine, but want it on record that I'm doing this against my own bloody will."

"So be it."

"So where do I restart?"

"Anywhere you feel you have tweaked the details a little bit."

"So anywhere-"

"Yes."

"-I want."

"Indeed."

"Did I mention that I don't like you?"

"The more you stall, the longer I stay."

"Damn!" I whisper-screamed, now hoping the information I was about to give wasn't twisted and turned to the reporter's will.

I slumped against the Headmaster`s desk, having a panic attack (Probably due to the fact that I'd have to die). After learning this fact, it created a lump in my stomach. I became indifferent of how I felt and became worried about how I was going to do this. I suddenly felt like a trapdoor had opened up right from under me. I felt like I was falling…falling…still falling into a pit of nothingness. Indifference turned into despair, my hopeful heart filled with dread. All the while I kept looking for any other option, another way, to end this… But there wasn't one.

I slowly got up from the stone floor and stumbled a few times because my legs wouldn't work. They felt like lead. And as I descended down the spiralling stairway, away from the office, each step echoed in my mind. Not a single one reassured me or gave me comfort. The thought of dying had never occurred to me that much. It didn't even seem real.

I walked down the stone corridors for the last time in my life. They appeared to have grown longer and longer. It's as if they didn't want me to leave their halls. It's weird because on some level, I didn't want to leave them either.

Every frightened person I passed were like mere apparitions to me, like shadows in the moonlit night. They looked like they weren't even there because they didn't even look up as I walked by. They looked like they were a part of a dream.

["Hey!" I yelled at the reporter, who was concentrating on writing everything I said. "Don't say that I have narcissistic tendencies and social issues! I don't have those!" My voice was now trembling of my nervousness.

The reporter looked up from her work with the worst smirk on her face (God, I wanted to hit her with a hex so badly!) and said, "Well, I think you do, Mr. Potter," and she went back to typing on her magical type-writer.

"Hey!" And I looked at the witch's work and then stared at her. "Don't type that! Stop typing!" I looked down at her work again. She had continued anyway. "Stop typing! Stop typing!"

Violet huffed as she muttered a small "Fine."]

Is this a dream? I thought. Will I just wake comfortably in a bed at home (wherever that is) from an awful nightmare? But the more I pondered on that thought, the more I despaired because I knew that this was real; this wasn't a dream. I felt as if a black hole had formed in my heart, which was swallowing every happy emotion that I ever felt.

Is this some kind of joke? I thought angrily. Why did I survive? Only to die at the right place and at the right time? What did I ever do?

After what felt like an eternity, I finally walked into the Great Hall, only to stop. There, I saw every person that I had ever cared about, but there was one in particular that I cared about the most: I saw my 2 best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, standing beside the entire Weasley family (who had always cared about me) mourning over the dead body of Fred Weasley as well as the dead bodies of Remus Lupin and his loving wife, Nymphadora Tonks. More bodies filled the Hall with even more people mourning for them. Teachers were tending to the wounded, who looked absolutely exhausted and unwilling to fight on.

Who could blame them? I thought. I suddenly felt completely filled with determination and valour.I have to end this. I have to! I have to do this forevery person in that Hall and in the entire school… But it was her that I worried about the most. With that in consideration, I turned my back to the Hall and left for the Entrance, unwilling to turn back.

I reached the doorway that opened up to the Grounds and the Forest with my determination starting to fail me as I fully realized what I must do.I was about halfway down the steps when she stopped me.

"Harry?" she shouted at me. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think?" I replied reluctantly.

"But you can't go! Especially to him!"

"Why? Why are you here?"

"I saw you outside the Hall leaving towards the Entrance Hall. I decided to follow you." The sad look on her face meant that she was going to cry and soon. "Please, Harry…You can't leave."

"But I have to! I have no other choice… I have to die."

"But you can't, Harry!" She had now burst into tears. "Not after we've known each other for so long. I won't live knowing that I could have done something about it. Don't go!"

"But I have no choice! You don't get it. I'm the Chosen One for Merlin's sake. There's nothing you can do—"

I was cut off suddenly when a set of perfectly kissable lips touched mine. I gasped against her lips as fireworks exploded in my mind. The fireworks were so loud and bright that I could swear that Voldemort could probably feel the ghost of it in his mind. But sadly, the fireworks were cut short when she pulled away slowly. I could tell however quick the kiss was for me, it was actually quite time consuming because her lips were already slightly swelling.

My breath came out in a 'Whoosh!' as I saw her eyes slowly opening and a small smile stretch upon her face. The urge was too great and before I knew it I was kissing her back with abandon. Now it was her turn to gasp as she wrapped her arms around my neck and mine encircled her waist.

This time there was no fireworks, but there was still passion, which made this kiss just as good as the last. It actually took a few minutes before we pulled away from one another, and that was only to breathe.

"Wow." We both breathed in unison, making us both laugh despite the situation.

I took a few moments to enjoy this wonderful bliss before I whispered, "I still have to go," with a great sadness and a heavy heart.

She just nodded, though she seemed reluctant to do so, and the enchanting smile on her face dissolved. I sighed thankfullybecause the need to tell her how much I love her evaporated. She knew. She'd always known. And if she didn't know before, she knew now, because who could have a kiss like that without having feelings for one another?

With my heavy heart weighing me down, I slowly started to back away as her arms dropped solemnly to her sides. As I walked away, I heard my heart screaming with each step. It was killing me to walk away, but as I told her before, I had no choice.

By the time I had walked at least a meter away from her, I knew I had to turn fully to complete the next full steps…why? Because as I walked away I could see silver streams flowing down her face. These streams made my heart scream even louder, and I had to bite my lips bloody and I had to clench my fists so tightly that I made cuts on my palms to keep myself from running over to her and comfort her as I have done so willingly in the past. With tears in my eyes and with the ever-growing lump in my throat I turned around. I resigned to knowing that I'd never see her beauteous face ever again…well, alive at least.

The Forest looked like as if it was miles away and my willpower was overpowered by my feelings for her.

But I decided to use that to help me. For the remainder of the journey, I thought of how I felt and what I was now fighting for to protect. And as I walked, the screaming heart silenced and was being consumed by fire, non-burning and eternal, fuelled by…you know what. I had made it to the borders of the Forest, just outside of Hagrid's hut, and chose to look back one final time. She was still in the doorway, probably wondering what had just happened. I stood there captivated by her silhouette as the fire in my heart consumed me, which kept me moving for my last march through the Forest.

"And you just died," the reporter asked, disappointed.

"I was actually killed, nevertheless, by Voldemort. And it was painless," I informed her happily, hoping to finally get her out of my house. "And I came back to life. Someone upstairs liked me."

But Violet, on the other hand didn't look pleased. "That's it. That all you're gonna tell me."

"Dunno. You tell me! Because I recall you only asking for that one, small specific part." I opened the front door and said, "Have a good day!"

"Nuh-uh. It's just not enough. I'm now officially hung up on what happened before the second part of the Battle. Tell me what happened after."

"I'm sorry. I cannot."

"Oh, don't be such a baby! Tell me who she is."

"Who?"

"The girl that you just kissed."

"You're making that up!"

"But you just said—Never mind. Why can't you tell me?"

"Er, uh…um," I blurted out with amazing brilliance. "That is, uh…is, uh—" (Once again, beautiful delivery!)

Then, the reporter suddenly gasped so unexpectedly, I probably flew a few inches above my seat. "You kissed another girl!"

I sat there dumbfounded as she hit my secret right on its imaginary nose because I didn't even know how she got to that conclusion. But she did. "Bugger," I muttered under my breath. "You're good."

"Well, reporters have to read between the lines. Ha ha!" she said with victory residing in her voice.

It was official now…I wanted to hit her with a shovel. (Not a magical one! The one I kept in the backyard for shovelling snow {I still liked doing stuff Muggle-style}.)

"Why do you care so much?" I coughed irritably. "I thought you were writing a biography."

"Well, I am. I just want this information. Teenage romance, love triangles. It's what all readers and writers alike love. It can be off the record if you want." She then Transfigured her type-writer into a handbag and swung it over one of her broad shoulders.

I was so frustrated; my face probably turned cherry red. I had something perfect to talk back at her with, too, until she continued saying, "Now I'm intrigued! Tell me more."

"If only I got you out of here sooner."

After the Final Battle, after winning the Elder Wand and repairing my much-missed wand, I decided to take a walk around the school to observe the damages and the celebrating survivors. As I walked past some people in the corridors, they 'Oooed' and 'Aahed' as if I was some miracle.

After reviewing the damage, I decided to leave immediately for the Gryffindor Tower. I needed to talk with her. I hadn't seen her since the end of the Battle. I needed to see her, hold her, make sure she was alright. That alone fuelled me and helped me sprint at an exceedingly fast rate. Every person I passed, students and teachers alike, asked stuff like "Is there something wrong?" and "What going on, Harry?", but I just ignored them. WhenI turned around a corner, I found I suddenly bumped into a girl with red hair and I crash-landed on the stone floors. I wish I had had enough time for a Cushioning Charm.

"Hello, Harry!" Ginny said exuberantly with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Hello, Ginny," I said, annoyed because I was hoping that the girl was her. My heart was in flames again and it began screaming, "Don't you dare!"

"Why were you running, Harry?" Ginny asked, sounding interested.

"Well…" I couldn't tell anyone yet, especially Ginny. She would flay me alive if she knew how I felt. I didn't want to re-enact what happened to Bellatrix Lestrange to me. I saw how Molly, the mother Weasley duelled. I didn't even want to challenge her daughter. "Um, I was heading to Gryffindor Tower. I…needed to talk to someone." My heart was now yelling "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

Ginny bent down to my level and offered her hand to me and suggested, "Why not come with me? We can go together."

"Oh no you don't!" my heart howled at me. But my dysfunctional brain intervened, which, I believe, made me say something like, "Why not?" I grabbed for Ginny's hand, hoisted myself off the ground and continued walking with her.

At the end of the corridor, there was a passageway which led to the shifting staircases. From there, I could make my way to the Tower, and hopefully her.

I started making my way up the stairway with Ginny following behind. I started to pick up my pace a little as we got closer to the corridor with the entrance to the Tower. I didn't even care about leaving Ginny behind. As long as I got to the Tower, nothing else mattered.

But Ginny's pace also quickened behind me. "Why are we going so fast?" she complained.

"It's complicated," I replied, trying to avoid that conversation.

"But why?"

"It's important."

"What's so important that we have to make our feet bleed for!"

"It's private."

"Right."

We finally made it to the Fifth Floor corridor and I stopped to catch my breath. After I saw the portrait of the Fat Lady, the guardian of Gryffindor Tower's entrance, my heart started to race. "Go!" it said. "Go now before—"

"So who is it that you have to see so desperately?" Ginny's voice asked from the bottom of the last set of stairs to the corridor. But by the time she reached the top step, I had already bolted. Before she even realized what was going on, I was halfway down the hall.

"Wait up, Harry!" Ginny cried out. And then, she pursued me.

I was about 20 feet away from the portrait when the portal magically opened in front of me. How lucky was I, eh? Incredibly? Immensely? Not even close. About 15 very tall first-years crowded the passageway to the Tower. There were so many students, I had to plant my feet to refrain from being run over by them. By the time the crowd had passed, Ginny had caught up to me. What I was about to do was not going to be easy.

I marched on into Gryffindor Tower, into the Common Room. I looked around the Room and no one else was there except for me and Ginny. So the risk of making a scene was highly unlikely. So I decided to wing it and called out, "Hermione? Hermione!"

But there was no answer.

I waited for a spell, hearing around for her voice, and turned to Ginny. What I saw was truly unexpected: Ginny's expression was blank, indifferent for once. It was as if all the gears in her head started to turn [like the annoying reporter. OW!]. She figured it out.

"So," Ginny's voice also made her indifferent, "she's the magical reason why you're up here, eh? You cared for me and now…you like another girl!" She started to breathe more heavily as the twinkle in her eyes faded into rage.

I needed to fight back. "Ok. First of all, relax please," I said sympathetically. "Second of all, I dumped you, remember!"

"Yeah! At the perfect time, too!"

"I had to leave. I had no other choice."

"Everyone has a choice."

"Not when your archenemy wasVoldemort. I had to protect you."

"I didn't need protecting." Her rage had just peaked.

Prepare to be vaporized, Harry Potter, I thought to myself.

"Nevertheless, that does not give you the right to tell who I can and cannot—"

"What? Love?" That comment hit me really hard. It was true, however. I did love someone else. The look on my face probably just fuelled the fire of our next argument. "So…you love Hermione Granger." The rage in her eyes faded. "Tell me. Did you ever love me?" Small tears started to trickle down her face.

Footsteps creaked above where we stood. Somebody had heard us.

I had to end this fight now. "I'm sorry, Ginny," I told her in a monotone voice. "But you can't just walk up to me and expect me to—" and Ginny leaned forward, and without warning, kissed me. I pulled back, after I fully understood what was going on, after a couple of seconds. And it was long enough to tell that this act of affection was not of happiness or love, but of sorrow and desperation. She was trying to win me back.

She tried to kiss me again, but I held her back and told her, "I'm sorry." The look on her face almost upset me, until—

"Harry?" a new voice said. Hermione stood at the base of the staircase which led to the dormitories. She stared at me with watery eyes. She clasped her hand over her mouth and started to sob. Before she could make a scene though, she turned away, made her way back to the girl's dorm, slammed the door and locked it. Without even thinking about Ginny, I went after Hermione.

I got to the dorm's door and said, "Alohamora," and the door unlocked itself. I pushed the door open about an inch before I heard Hermione yell, "Colloportus," and the door slammed shut again. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked again. I knocked and said, "Come on, Hermione. Let me explain."

"Explain what? You kissed Ginny," I heard from behind the door.

"I know and I'm sorry. You've got to understand."

The door opened almost immediately. "There's nothing to understand. You kissed Ginny. You had no right. I thought that kiss we had was real."

"It was, Hermione. I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk about her. She means nothing to me. You mean everything."

"Whatever.It's obvious now that the kiss didn't mean as much to you as it did to me…" And she went inside the dorm, went to her bed and popped open a book, still sobbing. I walked inside and saw that it wasn't quite different from the boy's dorm. It was just cleaner. No clothes were hanging around, the beds were made and everything was organized. And pink…too much pink. I guessed Lavender Brown must've been like a mini Dolores Umbridge. But I ignored that and went straight to Hermione.

"You've got to listen, Hermione. I love you." That made look up from her book, which was rare. I took one of my hands and put it on her shoulder. With the other, I grasped of her soft pale hands. "There is no way that some girl is going to change that. With one last breath, I would whisper your name. With one last look at you, I would memorize every detail of your face and with my last memory, I would remember you for eternity…With one last kiss, I would mark it as the most romantic moment of my life. And there is nothing that can change that. Nothing."

There was at least about 5 minutes of silence before Hermione spoke. This time, she was calm, yet uncertain. "Harry? How do I know that you're not lying to me?"

I took both of my hands and placed them on her rosy cheeks leaned slightly forward. "Let me prove it to you. Just tell me…when to stop. Please…tell me when to stop," I whispered gently to her as I got closer to her…As her soft lips touched mine once again… Fireworks. So loud and bright, I want to turn away, but I continued kissing her.

Time slowed down. I didn't want to rush…I didn't want this feeling to end. But Hermione stopped it by pulling away, placing my hands back on my lap. Her starry brown eyes were staring into my green eyes. There was some imaginary glow about her...She started to smile. That was all I ever needed from her to be happy, but she giggled anyway like I never heard before.

She took my trembling hands and we stood up. I placed my hands around her waist again while she was busy wrapping her arms aroundmy neck and we hugged out our troubles. We pulled away at the same time when I realized I was laughing.

And before shutting the dormitory door closed for…a little privacy, Hermione and Iprobably shared one of the most romantic moments that love had ever witnessed.

I sat across from the reporter, incredibly pleased that I finally finished my story. The little witch was staring into space as if she was still caught up in the moment. Then she sighed, "Well that was wonderful."

"It really was," I said, glad that I remembered the happiest day of my life.

"So where is Ms. Granger, nowadays? What happened with you two?"

"Well, let's see, uh. We kissed, we dated a while, got married, had kids and now, Hermione should be back from work at any moment."

"Oh, my! Don't let me stay any longer. I'll be on my way now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. I'll be sure to send you a copy of my book once it's done." Then she got up and said, "Farewell!" and then Disapparated.

Now looking upon that day, I was kind of glad Violet came to visit me. After reliving my romantic life with Hermione, fell in love with her all over again. I was never happier, gazing through the window into the snowy outdoors, waiting for my wife to come home.

Please R&R! :)