The Last Potter: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: One-Shot: Halloween Night in Godric's Hollow changed Harry's life. Ten years later, however, Halloween Night in Hogwarts changes not only Harry's life, but the lives and thoughts of all who think they know him.

Author's Note: So, this one-shot idea is going to seem pretty random and weird, with a side order of WTF, perhaps, but, at the same time, it's somewhat inspired by something a dear friend of mine has been encouraging, if not begging me to write for some time now.

Anyway, I hope my usual fans enjoy the adventure and the fun that comes out of it.

And, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to Winged Seer Wolf for inspiring me and always having kind words of support and friendship right when I need them most.

Normal Speech


The Last Potter

Halloween Night.

For the staff and students of Hogwarts, it was a night that meant a feast of treats and fun, each of the occupants of the school seated below the floating candles, glowing pumpkins, live bats and even the dancing skeletons as they shared in the delights of the feast.

Irony of ironies, on the particular Halloween where this story starts, an ominous-looking thunderstorm also danced across the enchanted ceiling, adding to the flashes of light from the candles and the pumpkins while, partially thanks to a quick move on the part of Professor Dumbledore, the students were kept dry from the rain by an atmospheric charm that kept the rain where it belonged.


As for the rain visible on the enchanted ceiling, it seemed to run along the entire ceiling like water running over the roof that was visible through a glass ceiling, painting more pretty pictures on the scene and adding to the beauty and awe of the image as a whole.

As many of the staff and students tucked into the feast, however, on the Gryffindor Table, there was one person who seemed to notice something that was a little off with the situation.


"Wha?" asked Ron Weasley, his mouth already full of food, even as he looked up at Neville Longbottom, who looked somewhere between curious and a little disgusted by the way the redhead ate.

He wasn't the only Gryffindor to feel that way, of course, but, stranger-still, nobody, not even the teachers, ever called the redhead out on it.

Swallowing down his disgust, Neville indicated to the spot on Ron's left as he asked, "Where's Harry? Wasn't he with you?"

"I durro," said Ron, his words muffled by the food he was eating, as though that was more important, as he explained, "E sai somefin abou neeing ter do somefin; I do no wa."

Even with the broken English, Neville managed to translate the muffled gibberish.

However, before he could say anything else to the gluttonous redhead, Neville gasped, as did several others, when the large doors to the Great Hall suddenly blew open, accompanied – rather-ironically, if not conveniently – by a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder that lit up the image of the figure standing in the door.

When everyone turned to look at who was standing there, however, some of them were confused, while others were bemused, if not surprised to see Harry Potter standing there. What made his sudden appearance so confusing and surprising, however, was the fact that, instead of black robes and his usual ordinary looks, the so-called saviour of Magical Britain looked like he'd spent a fair amount of time preening himself.

For one thing, his usually-untameable black hair had, by some miracle, been brushed and styled in such a way that it looked smart, if not stylish, and not just like someone who didn't know what a hairbrush was. As if that wasn't strange enough, Harry's eyes were unusually-steely in their glare as he started walking into the Great Hall, their green colouring almost hard, if not emotionally-distant as he walked forwards.

However, what made his appearance even more confusing – if only to those of the pure-blood and untrained sort – was the fact that, instead of robes, Harry was dressed in a plain, black suit, a black tie wrapped around his neck and hanging low over a crisp, white shirt behind the closed suit. He also wore finely-polished black shoes and had two gloves on his hands, both of which were currently wrapped around a finely, carefully-wrapped parcel in his hands, which Harry seemed to hold onto as though his life depended on it as he moved to the front of the hall.

Not even the usually-biased, bigoted Severus Snape seemed willing to interrupt Harry as he walked towards the front of the hall before, to the shock of several students, Harry set his parcel against Dumbledore's golden lectern. It was during this movement that those watching Harry all took note of the fact that he was carrying two parcels, which he lay side-by-side before, sniffing once, Harry drew his wand from his pocket, waving it once as he whispered out a spell.


Given how his usual spellwork, if not his schoolwork, seemed less than what some might have expected of the Boy-Who-Lived, it was safe to say that there were more than a few people whom were impressed, if not amazed when they saw Harry's spell release the bonds holding the wrappings on the parcels in place with such a practised skill that it might as well have been used by a master like Professor Flitwick.

Speaking of the goblin professor, he was the first one to show any outward reaction as, even when Harry cast his spell, the Charms Master and Head of Ravenclaw seemed to catch on as to what was going on here. While several others were left muttering and watching with curiosity, the stout Professor moved from his spot on the High Table before, to Harry's surprise, he joined the young boy next to the lectern, just as the wrappings fell away from the parcels.

When they did so, it was Filius who spoke first as he whispered, "I thought so."

Every other student in the hall, meanwhile, gasped with shock and disbelief, as well as awe and surprise, when they saw the wrappings fall away from the parcel, revealing not one, but two portraits, both of which were still and frozen in their frames, instead of being active and sentient like most wizarding pictures.

However, this didn't stop the students from recognising the images frozen in time within the confines of the portraits' frames: one was a wild-haired man with glasses and a proud, powerful-looking air about him. He was dressed in a suit of Gryffindor robes that were adorned with a Head Boy badge, as well as a second badge identifying him as Quidditch Captain, though the broom he was holding – a Comet 100, which was an olden-days brand by the students of that night's standards, and yet, it looked brand-new in the picture – was also a sign of that title.

As shocking as the sight of the man's visage was, however, it was nothing compared to the redheaded, emerald-green-eyed young woman in the second portrait, whom was also wearing Gryffindor robes that had a Head Girl's badge, as well as a necklace that the young woman wore over her robes, which was highlighted by a pendant shaped like a pentagram, which seemed to be made of emeralds, much like the S-like shape of a certain Founder's locket.

With both images revealed, earning more gasps and awestruck, if not stunned looks from many of the students – save for several Slytherins, who glared at the images with hatred, but, with both Dumbledore and Flitwick in the room, the latter standing right next to Harry, they seemed content with just glaring – Harry stepped back once before, sniffing again, he lifted his wand and flicked it once.


"Merlin's beard!" gasped Professor McGonagall, who, naturally, recognised the spell that Harry cast as a fourth-year Transfiguration spell and yet, to her awe, when he cast it, he did so perfectly, conjuring two bouquets of finely-cut, perfectly-blossomed red roses, both of which Harry then moved to rest at the bottom of both portraits.

Once that was done, the young boy pocketed his wand before, to the shock of his peers, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head; when the students saw Professor Flitwick doing the same, not one member of the hall dared to say anything, even as the other Heads of House – including a wide-eyed, disbelieving Severus Snape, who didn't know whether to speak out against Harry for what he was doing or, like many others, feel a mixture of emotions at the sight of a childhood friend and an enemy looking back at him – moved to join them.

In the dead silence that filled the hall, however, there was one sound that was audible, even to those who pretended not to look at the faces of the pure-blood and Muggle-born – though these particular students had another name for the female, though they didn't dare say it – who'd helped put an end to the reign of the greatest wizard in the world.


A low, painful, beyond-agonising string of sobs, accompanied by the sight of tears splashing onto the floor of the Great Hall.

And all of them coming from Harry Potter, who seemed beyond-inconsolable as he knelt before the portraits of his parents, Lily and James Potter, his grief, loss, mourning and his pain evident for all to see.

However, the shock and disbelief of the hall was soon elevated when, from the Gryffindor Table, Neville Longbottom, as well as Fred and George Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and even Oliver Wood all moved to add to the group of honourable minds. In the case of the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, they gathered around their Seeker with equal-parts respect and support clear on their faces.

As for Neville, however, he walked right up to the portraits before, kissing the tips of his fingers, he placed them against the images before he too kneeled before them, sliding his hand into Harry's as he knelt by his side.

"I…I'm sorry…"

Harry didn't respond.

After several minutes, however, Dumbledore rose up before he turned to the Great Hall, his eyes filled with a mixture of solemn emotion and personal pain – not that Harry saw it – as he addressed his students.

"How soon we forget…but there are those who never forget…this night…ten years ago…a terrible age of darkness, death and pain was halted by the bravery of two noble souls whom, I am beyond-honoured to say, were almost like my own children. To those who have heard tales of their glory, I assure you; it is not just hearsay."

"And that goes double for any members of my House," added Severus, earning several gasps of disbelief from the other Houses, even as the Potions Master turned his gaze on the Slytherins. "For all his…foibles, I…I admit that James Potter had his…his good points; he was a fine duellist, a powerful sorcerer and…to those who…who he had given such rights, a…a true friend…"

"And Lily Potter was no slouch either," added Filius, sharing his two Knuts with the student body as he explained, "She was actually someone I had considered worthy to succeed me and, were it not for…for the tragedy of ten years ago, you might even be calling her Professor Potter today…"

"But, from tragedy, greatness can be found, even in the most-unlikeliest of places," said Dumbledore, turning back to Harry and the still-kneeling Gryffindors as he added, "And, out of respect for that greatness, I award 10 points each to Messers Weasley, Weasley, Wood and Longbottom, as well as Misses Bell, Spinnet and Johnson for showing a strong sense of unity and respect for those who are no longer with us. Furthermore, I award 50 points to Harry Potter for…"

"That's not why I did this."

Suddenly, even Dumbledore stepped aside as everyone turned to see Harry was back on his feet, his eyes now dry, but reddened slightly from his tears, while his hands were relaxed and at his side as he faced the Hall. "I…I didn't do this for…for points or…or to show off. I…I wouldn't even have argued if…if some teachers decided to give me a detention for disrupting the feast or…or some other reason."

Not to anyone's surprise, Harry was glaring at Severus as he said about the detentions, even as he cleared his throat before he looked back to the rest of the hall.

"I did this for…for one reason and one reason only; for…for the past ten years, despite what you all think about me, I…I never even knew about my parents, not even how they died or…or how they had risked it all for…for me. But, thanks to Hagrid, and my Hogwarts letter, I…I learned the truth, but, even then, I…I still didn't have the chance to do what anyone else, Muggle or Magical, could do…"

Here, Harry picked up a single rose from his bouquet before, pinning it to his lapel, he sniffed sadly as he whispered, "I didn't have the chance to say…goodbye…and thank you…"

"But you're the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"And that's supposed to make everything all right, is it?" asked Harry, glaring daggers at the random Ravenclaw who'd shouted at him, his voice quivering with rage and disbelief as he asked, "So, because most of the people here know more about me than I do, it's supposed to make up for not knowing squat about my life, my legacy, my family? No, it doesn't! And it doesn't change the fact that, while many witches and wizards think it's okay to hear my name and think it's then okay to crowd me and poke and prod at me because I'm a celebrity and then expect me to accept it!"

Again, he glared at Severus, who lowered his eyes as he remembered the very first thing he'd said to Harry in their first lesson together, while Harry, seemingly-unable to hold it in anymore, looked back to the hall as he went on.

"While they get to believe what they choose to believe about me, it doesn't change the fact that there's not one person, in any one House or all four combined, who knows the first thing about me! You all just hear the Boy-Who-Lived and you make your own assumptions: and if, Merlin forbid, I might be different to what you expect, what then? Am I the next Voldemort?"

As Harry expected, a chorus of hisses and shivers filled the Great Hall with the feared name, save for Harry and Dumbledore, while the young Gryffindor went on, "Or am I disgracing my parents' memories? Because, I'll tell you: if anyone disgraces their memories, it's the pig-ignorant Muggles I was forced to live with for ten years…and all thanks to you!"

He pointed a shaking finger at Dumbledore as he said the last part, earning more gasps from the hall, while Dumbledore looked between Harry and Hagrid, even as Harry went on, "Not once did I hear anything good about my parents, or get to honour them, see their graves, say goodbye or even thank them for what they did for me…and for this world…and sure, I know my family wasn't the only one hurt because one psycho wanted to rule the world, but I'm just supposed to forget that? Especially tonight? NO!"

"All right, Potter, I think we get it," said Minerva, though her voice was weak with shock, as well as a hint of rage that wasn't directed at Harry.

Suffice to say, she would soon be having words with her boss before the next week was out.

"Do you?" asked Harry, looking to McGonagall as he asked, "What about my Quidditch thing, Professor? I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to tell me just how great a Chaser my Dad was. I mean, he's got awards in the Trophy Room with his name all over them; or what about how skilled he was with a wand? Or how you obviously thought I'd just inherit his natural skill because I'm his son…just like how someone else clearly thinks I'm as arrogant, self-centred and as big a bully and nuisance as he was to this one person with the initials SS."

"How…how do you know about that?" asked Severus, earning more whispers from the hall, even as Harry scoffed.

"Contrary to what people like you think about me, Professor, I did my homework…and it kind of helps that I had some help from a member of my so-called family here at Hogwarts who wanted to help me set up this whole thing. She even gave us a reason to think she'd miss the feast because one tactless twit with the attention span of a goldfish can't even get a simple spell right."

"Who's that, Harry?" asked Ron, earning scoffs and groans from the rest of the Gryffindors.

Harry, meanwhile, drew in a deep, shaky breath before he indicated the portraits behind him as he added, "She even found these pictures in records of past Gryffindor students and, with a little help from a Charms book from the library, she helped me restore them and make them worthy of a memorial, all so I finally have the chance to say goodbye…nothing else. Not points, not arrogance, not even to show off; just…just to have the chance to do what you and the Muggles and everyone else kept from me."

Here, Harry turned to his teammates, as well as Neville, as he added, "That being said, I…I am thankful to my teammates, and you too, Neville, for helping me say goodbye…and showing how our house is like our family, but…it doesn't change the bleeding obvious."

"What's that?" asked Filius, earning a slow sigh from Harry as he wiped tears from his eyes before he looked back to the hall.

"I'm the Last Potter," explained Harry, lifting his head so that everyone could see his emerald-green eyes, and the fire that burned within them, surprising those who could see such a glow, as he explained, "And, from now on, it's time I accept that…and make of it what I will. But, for now, I'll just say it once and for all."

Retrieving the pictures, as well as banishing the roses, Harry sniffed softly, even as another tear rolled down his cheek, before he explained, "I don't care about what you think I am supposed to be like. I don't care about being the Boy-Who-Lived and, quite honestly, I think that's as disgusting a way to honour the people who gave up their lives, just so I could live…oh, and you lot too, of course. I mean, if it weren't for heroes like my Mum and Dad, and others who fought against Voldemort…"

Again, a sea of flinches, shivers and hisses filled the hall, while Harry went on, "You'd either be dead yourselves…or forced to bow down to that monster; so just think about that the next time you decide to think that all I am is a nickname and title I never wanted. I mean, who would even want to be famous because they've lost their entire family? And yes, Professor Dumbledore, I do mean my entire family, before you ask about the three people I never really want to see again!"

The fact that Harry had all but called out Dumbledore surprised people as much as his stern, definitely-leonine-worthy attitude.

However, before any of the students, or the staff, could say a word, the doors to the Great Hall flew open again, just as another member of the school ran into the hall.


Now, whispers of fear and surprise filled the hall for different reasons, though not before Harry's eyes darkened in their sockets, even as the terrified-looking Quirrell gasped out his next words

"Thought you ought to know…"

Then he collapsed onto the floor…and all hell broke loose in Hogwarts…

So, I know I said I had follow-on ideas for this, but, tbh, I kind of lost them as quickly as I got them, so, instead, I'm keeping this as a one-shot.

It's something my good friend, Winged Seer Wolf, has been asking me for a while to consider writing...well, here you are, old friend.

As for the rest of you, I hope you liked this idea.