Chapter 54.5: Looping In.

Chapter 54.5: Looping In.

Pool Warehouse Set, Leavesden. August 2010.

Nineteen years later had initially been written, or at least conceptualised in Jo’s mind, nearly a decade ago. And because of that quirk, the first draft epilogue came as both too late in the story and too soon in her mind for it.

Many things had changed since then.

[“Two ter a boat! No more’n two ter a boat!” Hagrid bellowed and swung his enormous arm - one holding a lantern and the other brandishing his iconic pink parasol - to usher the newest graduating class of Hogwarts on their return journey home. 

The water in the artificial pool sloshed wetly on the boathouse fabrication that sat atop it. It groaned and creaked with every lapping wave, and stomping student, that battered against its battle beaten boards. 

Though just about everything surrounding the castle was the same way. Students and teachers included.

I hung back in one corner. The camera operator angled the lens directly at me in a wide shot from the furthest diagonal corner of the set. Carefully, I avoided letting my line-of-sight stare directly down the aperture. I flitted my observation across the procession happening between us. 

Merely two months on since Voldemort’s final transformation into a visible cadaver, everyone and everything were little better. But better, nonetheless. 

Sure, they were haggard as Flitwick eagerly and excitedly shook noodly hands. Mourning, as Sprout dabbed her eyes while being comforted. Often even scarred, like Lavender Brown, who stood proud as McGonagall straightened out her collar to reveal a recovering, red bite mark courtesy of a now euthanized Greyback. 

Thinner in numbers than the start of our journey seven years prior, yet all four houses were still represented in the graduating class. Even if there were large patches missing from the full picture, a few younger faces filled those gaps. Some from the lower NEWT years, those like Ginny and Luna - who'd suffered too much under the death eater regime at Hogwarts - flew the coop with their OWLs as enough. Deciding against adding more bodies haunting the castle's corridors.

One by one, they paired up, paraded down the declining ramp, and clambered into their designated dinghies, at Hagrid’s boisterous urging. I watched silently from where I was, while the cameras lost and found me beyond the bobbing heads. 

On cue, my attention swapped to the window beside me, and the camera dollied forward through the tail end of the crowd. Both our views focused outside. Green, and nothing else. Except for the lighting rig hidden out of frame. The spotlight employed as the setting sun lowered slowly from my head, face and torso until it disappeared fully underneath the sill, casting me into darkness.

Post production would later construct the scene to display the red and purple hues of a dying dusk being swallowed by the horizon. And just as it dips, casting the sky into nightfall, Hogwarts blooms in its stead. Lit windows and lanterns would stream rays of light out to contour the pockmarked surface of the castle edifice. Ultimately emphasising that, though badly damaged, it stood strong and was under concerted repair. An allegory for the wizarding world at large.

Moreover, a symbol for me and the new chapter I was taking in life.

I shut my eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and turned away from the window. The reflection of the scene outside swiped off my glasses, the camera zoomed for an extreme close-up on my face, and it got the most soulful gaze I could muster - for only a fleeting second - straight down the lens. 

“C’mon up, Harry!” Hagrid’s booming voice snapped me out of my introspection. Both I and the camera panned to him waving me over to the boats. “We can’t leave without ye. The clouds’re comin’ in. Better hurry before it rains, ye hear?”

With a subtle upturn at the edge of my lips, I approached Hagrid. Not really, actually. My marker was a few feet to the side of him to force perspective and create the illusion of a size difference. I wasn’t quite as small as I used to be when I filmed my first ever scene. “Not particularly worried about that, am I, Hagrid? After all, that new umbrella I gave you should keep us all well dry.”

He puffed up with pride, but just as hurriedly hunched down secretively and tapped the umbrella nervously on the floorboards twice. Our eyes conspicuously fell onto the handle, where there were these odd-looking round knots. 

Once upon a time it was Hagrid’s old snapped wand that resided there. Now, known only to the two of us, the elder wand had been slotted in as a replacement. “Roight ye are, Harry. Don’t think I’ll be givin’ yer tubby cousin a pig’s tail with this one, aye?”

Dumbledore always entrusted Hagrid with the important things. Things that needed to be kept safe and handled with care, like me, as a glaring example. I saw no good reason to buck that trend. “I’ll trust you to know what’s best.” Shrugging at my comment (as well as the weight of that specific responsibility off my shoulders), I slid down the slope and settled into my wading sloop. “Let’s set off, yeah? You owe me one last sailing trip.”

The boat rocked gently as I seated myself on the wooden slat. Hagrid might’ve taken the bench in front of me, but he got into his own boat because mine was occupied by a big blue ball. 

A pyrotechnic charge attached near it went off. Smoke, sparks, and a small gout of flame flashed in front of me. I reacted instinctively, drawing a wand, but just as rapidly pointing its tip down towards my feet when I realised it was Fawkes the phoenix making himself known and comfortable. 

That little puff of special effects magic was the practised sign for the Hogwarts educators to send us off.  

McGonagall, in her fondly stern tone, got started, echoing her speech from when we had joined the school. “In a few moments, you will leave these halls for the last time. But before we do, we must speak about your houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin as well.”

A still sniffling Sprout stepped in for the second part. “In here, the houses acted as your homes. Out in the real world, however, you will find that it is the friendships you’ve fostered and families you’ve forged that will carry you through from here on out.”

Flitwick followed behind them and fervently raised his fist above his head. “There are no points left for us to give or take. No drudgery of homework left for you to do, or rules left to break. Your triumphs and failures will all be born of your own wit and grit.”

McGonagall brought it all home; with a quick swish and flick, she launched us out onto the lake. “Be brave, be loyal, be clever, and be cunning.” Her trembling voice floated alongside all of us. “But above all, be sure that at Hogwarts, you shall always have a home!”

We drifted away from the dock in a shock of heartfelt hollers, and tearful thanks. 

Our rafts automatically rowed on rails until everything except the students, the fake lake, and the green screen sky remained in the frame. As we halted, underwater jets kicked on before it could grow stagnant. The created current made it seem as if we were in motion across the limited body of water. 

I glanced over to my right-hand-side, at the vessel closest to mine. Ron and Hermione shared their boat and their plans for the future. 

“Shacklebolt offered me a position at the Ministry,” barely half a minute out of school and Hermione expressed excitement about bogging herself down with fresh work. “I’ll be working directly under him on reform policies. There’s so much to fix - Muggleborn rights, S.P.E.W… It’s a start.” Though it had to be said, she’d definitively sorted out her priorities.

“Percy’ll be joining you, I hear. Can’t keep away from us Weasleys, can you?” Ron teased. Hermione responded with a reflexive kick to his shin, and they both devolved into essentially playing footsie with each other. “My view’s not raring up to be all that different. I’m heading to help George with Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Reckon he needs a hand… once he’s sorted, though, I’m gunning for the Cannons. I don’t care how long it takes me, or what I’ll have to do. They’re going to win the league if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

“Hah! Un-bloody-likely!” We collectively turned to my left where Ginny announced herself, while Luna sat with her and paddled her fingertips in the water off the side of the boat. “The Holyhead Harpies have already scouted me. Looks like I’m the one set for a real career in Quidditch.” Done pestering her older brother, Ginny’s scrutiny then arrived on me. “You know, you should consider it, too. Seeker spots always need filling,” as a result of bludger induced occupational hazard, “who knows, we may even end up playing together. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I tilted my head, moved my eyes up and to the left til just below my upper eyelid, as if I was contemplating the decision. “Can’t say I’m not tempted.” But ultimately remained non-committal. “At the very least, you’ll find me in the cheering section at each of your matches.”

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea, Harry! Repurposing my roaring lion cap into a shrieking harpy sounds like a rather curious project. The both of us can visit Ginny in between travelling the world.” She flicked her fingers, sending droplets scattering over my face. “What do you say, Harry? I would appreciate your company while I work on my magizoology mastery.”

“So that’s how it is, is it?” Ginny challenged Luna with squinted eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ginevra.” Luna in response, dipped her fingers back in, dodged the conversation, and donned her dotty persona. The laughs they shared still weighed heavy, but its echoes carried further on lighter winds. 

In a boat further down the line, Blaise Zabini let out a huff, wincing as he examined a fresh splinter lodged in his palm. “Brilliant. Just what I needed, another injury to add to my collection,” he muttered, trying to pry it out.

Neville, seated across from him, energetically reached down to his feet and produced his cherished Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Giving a gelatinized pustule a firm squeeze, the prop plant oozed out a viscous, corn-starch based fluid. Without waiting for permission, he snatched Blaise’s hand and applied it where he was pretending it hurt.

Blaise recoiled at the stench, nose wrinkling. “Merlin’s beard, Longbottom! What is that?”

“Stinksap. It’ll help the splinter work its way out and prevent infection. It’s St.Mungos for me after this. Herbology has a lot to offer healing. I want to see how far I can take it.”

Zabini looked doubtful but stayed still, muttering a begrudging “Thanks,” then chuckled under his breath. “If only Malfoy could see me now.”

Hearing that, I peered down at the familiar wand I’d been twirling around my fingers. Draco Malfoy’s. Ron noticed, stretched across the gap, and tried to snatch it off me. “I still can’t believe you kept that. It’d be better off digging bogeys out of a troll’s nostrils.”

I leaned away as his fingertips barely brushed past me. Tucking Draco’s wand away into my pocket, I swapped it out for my elder-wand-repaired holly wand. “S’only with me temporarily. Told him I’d hand it back to him once he’s done playing witness to help track and testify against every death eater and sympathiser.”

“Wouldn’t shake hands with that slimy git,” Ron harrumphed.

“He owes me a debt, either way. Plus, he knows all the ‘right’ sort, remember?”

Quiet conversations were once more overtaken by the ebb and flow of the streaming water below. In that quiet moment, my mind drifted back to first year, when we’d crossed these same waters. Now, though, something felt incomplete. I peered over the side at my reflection, scarcely discernible on the unreasonably dark liquid surface. Glancing up, I acted as though thick, roiling rain clouds were blanketing the sky. “No. That just won’t do tonight.” 

Wielding my prop holly wand, I cast the first spell Hogwarts taught. “Lumos.” The marble-sized hollow plastic ball glued to the tip had its internal LED light up. I twitched my wrist, the tether attached to the ball yanked it off the wand, and sent the orb skipping over the water, until it was reeled completely overhead.

“Lumos.”

“Lumos.”

“Lumos.”

The rest were quick to catch on, and from every boat pinpricks of light ascended into the sky. CGI would complete the effect, but the new constellation mirrored in the less murky depths was a good first sign. Not to mention that according to the screenplay - this was the precise moment when that legendary John Willaims score would twinkle in one last time.]

–

King’s Cross Platform 4, London. August 2010.

The epilogue was always gonna end at the train station. It had to. 

On-location filming was as impractical as ever, but the practical realism of it all spurred us on regardless. We had a narrow timeframe, squeezed inside the non-operable hours of the station from half-one to five in the morning, to catch the shot.

Complaints, naturally, were all around from anyone but the make-up department who had it the easiest among us because of the late hour.

[Speakers whined, mimicking screeching brakes. The Hogwarts Express carriage had been ground to a halt since it had first pulled into the station a couple hours ago. Ron, Hermione, and I weathered the hissing steam from where we stood on our markers.

Ron was the first to zip out of the obscuring fog as he and the other passengers reunited with their families.

I was on the outside again. It was a familiar feeling to me. Hermione, though, was getting her first taste of it as I observed her distantly scan the mingling crowd for a pair of someones whom she knew wouldn’t be there. I nudged her softly, breaking her out of a trance.

“You know, Luna had a point about travel,” I said in an attempt to lift her spirits. “I’ve never been outside Britain. A little trip to Australia sounds nice, yeah?”

She craned her neck and looked up at me with unshed tears and a quivering chin, but her answer held no hesitation. “Better book a flight soon, then. I’ll need two extra tickets on the return.” The Wilkinses would re-adopt the Granger moniker any day now.

“Don’t forget to count me in!” Ron slung an arm over Hermione’s shoulder.

Who immediately entwined her fingers with his. “Well, I suppose I’ll need somebody to carry the luggage.”

Before I experienced an iota of loneliness, a soft body crashed hard into me with a warm embrace. Molly Weasley fussed over us immediately, clucking her tongue and smoothing out our hair. “Shall we, dears? It’s getting late. I have your rooms already prepared.” Announcing her intention to drag both of us to the Burrow.

I gave her shoulder a thankful, comforting squeeze as I wrangled out of her grasp. “Actually… I’ve sort of got somewhere else to be.” 

“You most certainly do not, young man! Where do you think-!?” I stalled her encroaching tirade by jutting my chin behind her. She whipped around, arms crossed and ready to rock, before crumbling away almost instantly. “Ah. Yes, of course.” Molly turned back to me with a softened mien and raised her hand up to stroke my cheek. I pressed myself deeper into it. “It’d be cruel, and a fool’s errand to steal you away from them, wouldn’t it? Fine then, but you better bloody well put that watch I gave you to good use. I expect you to be punctual for dinner every time. Don’t even think about being late!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Saying my piece, I slipped through the redheaded huddle and approached my future.

Andromeda Tonks stood alone in a deserted section of the platform. Weary, but with the stiffest upper lip, and somehow stiffer spine, as she cradled her bundled up grandson. My godson, Teddy Lupin. A real baby and the youngest actor in the entire series.

The camera panned around, steadied, and blocked us on opposite ends of the shot frame. She stood statuesque where she was. I held firm a few feet away, leaving a small chasm separating us. Andromeda’s eyes uncertainly flickered over my form. “You don’t have to do this, you know? We’ll be fine on our own.” Rachel Weisz’s signature raspy voice added effectively to how rough she’d been made to appear. 

Resolve flowed through me. “I know.” My feet took a single step forward.

Andromeda’s lips pursed, her voice laced with quiet concern. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

Another stubborn step ahead. “Never expected it to be.”

“There are so many things you could do, places you could go!” Her voice wavered. Reluctantly imploring me to reconsider my decision.

Warnings went unheeded as I pressed on. Tonks’ and Remus’ unfounded hopes - Sirius’ and mine unfulfilled desires - pushed me onward. One last, crisp stride, and I cleared the canyon. “I’m not going anywhere. Only home.”

“I-I can’t lose anyone again, neither can Teddy. You can’t guarantee that.” Setting my trunk on the floor, I tenderly took the baby from her trembling arms and tucked him into the crook of my elbow.

“I can, and I will.” Then, just like in the script, the book, and in real life, I extended my pinky finger and wrapped it around Andromeda’s. “I promise.”]