[a/n]: So here's the end of the tale. It might have been nice to end on a round 50, but nothing left to tell. Broke 1 million hits, might hit 1.1 million with the final. Over 1500 reviews. Including author notes, I'll have posted about 800,000 words across all four stories.

I do have a short story in mind, of the gloom and doom variety. It won't be long, maybe 5 chapters maybe 15k words.

As for the reviews here, my comments. I did enjoy putting a funny twist into Fifteen Years Later. And like I said, it turned out to be a lot of fun. Harry/Susan I liked putting together because as a somewhat late arrival to HP fandom, the first two movies made her seem like an important secondary character. Too bad Eleanor Columbus disappeared from t he movies.

Pixel asked if Hermione and Dobby had been in a temporal causality loop. That's like the movie Groundhog Day. What's been actually proven is the affect of Time dilation is when time slows down the faster you go. At near light speed it gets extreme. You can find a calculation site online. To the point where, as in the story, the couple minutes experienced by the displaced pair were 17 years for the rest of the world. Wiki if you'd like to read and it gave the link to the calculator I used for the story.

Slytherin66 didn't want to see Hermione back at all and I can appreciate that, she wasn't a goody here. But you can remember she won't have an easy future. I did need to bring her back, otherwise Dobby's return would have been unjustified. And she made a good perspective character for the last chapter.

DailaCow and Fyreheart both mentioned Superman. Looking back I see the similarity. But my inspiration for the Dobby/Hermione situation {You can almost guess my age from this} came from Carl Sagan's Cosmos series. Briefly, it went "Ride a bike close to light speed, come back home to your little brother being an old man." I hope, in the time I spent on it, I got her reaction down. It felt right.

I'll be looking eagerly for reviews on the end here. If one really catches my eye, or if a reviewer requests, I'll PM a response. So before the a/n gets as long as the last chapter, let's get it started. The time is deliberately vague but decades in the future and chronicles Harry's and Susan's deaths.

Last word, keep an eye out for my next short. A provisional title is Catastrophe.


Deputy Headmaster Harry Potter was also Professor of Potions ever since the death his dear friend George Weasley. He refused, vehemently, to accept the post permanently and insisted that Headmistress Dursley pursue other candidates. It was his third year in the job, but he never forced the issue. Likewise, Azalea Dursley, never really sought a candidate to replace 'Uncle' Harry.

That was not a true description of the relationship as the Headmistress was the granddaughter of long deceased Dudley, who had, due to illness lived rather less than the average Muggle lifespan.

Harry had learned, more by negatives, from Albus Dumbledore. He had been Minster of Magic, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Best Seeker Quidditch had ever seen and Winningest Manager as well. But each in their time, he had left each position. This included, done on the same day, when he and Susan gave up their Family Rings to their children. Susan still had a hint of red in her hair back then, while Harry had a distinguished salt-and-pepper look. They were now elderly, even by Wizard standards.

No longer Head of House Potter, Harry was content with his current role, teaching the Great- and in more and more cases the Great- Great grandchildren of his friends. His generation was disappearing quickly in this time. Ron's death, at only 72, had hit him hard, Ginny's (in what would have been her last Quidditch game before retiring) just as much.

"Welcome to NEWT Potions." Professor Potter addressed the class "From here is the gateway to Potion Master training. Perhaps half of you will be selected for Apprenticeship with one of the hundred or so Masters in Britain. My Goddaughter is seeking one this year."

The students gasped "JKS Herself!"

"Yes." Harry replied tolerantly. The little girl Draco had adopted took up the Heir of Slytherin title after achieving her own fame as a Potions Mistress of surpassing talent. And, instead of jealousy, Harry only felt pride in her accomplishments and his part in raising her. "And as strange as it is to say this, my favorite Slytherin will not … whoever she picks … well, they'll be her last." The notion of Joanne retiring was alien to him.

A boy, Slytherin, declared "That'll be me. None of these fluffs have it over me." He had none of Draco's wealth, but all of his boyhood arrogance.

"Perhaps you might, Mr. Diggory, Perhaps you ….. NO!" the last a scream. Years of training in caution around potions ingredients, beakers, and burners was forgotten for a fleeting instant. Professor Potter moved as he had not moved since before the parents of these Seventh Years were born. His last conscious memory was that of bodily throwing three students out of the path of a fireball. Then pain. Pain that got worse. Pain that went on forever.


Susan Bones, or Susan Potter, depending on her function at the moment was in the Hall of The Wizengamot. Only two members of that august body knew the contents of her speech today. She had been Minister of Magic for 37 years. Second, although a distant second, longest serving in history. If they had been consecutive, and the truth known, Harry's 21 years where she made many of the decisions would make her the record holder. Only her children, Neil Bones and Lily Amelia Potter, knew she was to announce "Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, you have honored me with your trust for many years. And I humbly thank you." She said. Though old, there was nothing but strength in her voice "I shall miss this Chair. In fact, I know it almost as well as my husband."

There was some laughter at that.

"Apparently, despite their protestations of being Grandparents themselves" she continued "I can still make the kiddies blush." After a mocking bow that only a Mother could do Susan continued her address "It is enough, however. I'm an old woman. In thirty days, time enough for a successor to be chosen, I shall retire. We, my husband and I are going to enjoy our last years."

Unforgivably, a reporter interrupted the proceedings "Doing what?" In times past he could have been thrown into The Veil.

"I don't quite know, sir." Replied Susan, wistfully. She thought a moment, it was actually much longer. A century vanished from her eyes. Some swore that, instead of the ancient Minister, they saw a schoolgirl standing there "However, screwing each other into oblivion has a certain appeal."

A Page rushed up to her, whispered, nodded, whispered again.

Susan staggered and fell to the floor, whimpered "Sweet Merlin, No!"

"What is it!" demanded Neil. The poor Page was yanked away by his sister who all but screeched "TELL!"

An Auror of the Minister's Guard ordered "St. Mungo's! Now!"

"No!" Susan's voice was suddenly firm "Hogwarts! Harry!"


The middle aged Headmistress met the Minister at the gate "Auntie Sue. I hate to be the bearer of bad news."

"What happened Azzie?" the aging Minister demanded, hiding her grief behind a tone as hard as magic-reinforced granite.

Azalea told all she knew then "It was just a second. One of the kids took his eyes off his ingredients. He saved half the class."

"Of course he did." Susan brushed away a tear, gruffly "Take me to him … his body."

But Azalea shook her head, seized her shoulders "He's alive Auntie. Healer Brown sent him to a Muggle hospital. They have him in an Iron Lung … never mind you wouldn't care about that. Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, here's a Portkey. All my hopes."

The Headmistress' information made up in brevity what it lacked in accuracy. But, Azalea was two generations removed from the Muggle world and Healer Brown was a Pureblood even by the most fanatical standards.


From a hidden Magical reception area, Susan unerringly led the way through the Hospital to the Burn Unit "My husband!" she declared "Harry Potter!"

"One moment ." the nurse was completely unflustered, long accustomed to family members of patients "I'll get the doctor."

It was a middle aged Muggle who arrived, instantly identified Susan, held out a hand "Mrs. Potter, sorry to make your acquaintance under such circumstances." He said kindly.

"Thank you" answered Susan, curtly "Harry?"

The Doctor nodded "I shan't lie. His condition is grave. His lungs have been burned as if he had inhaled fire. By all rights he should not be alive now. Artificial respiration is keeping him alive, and beyond all medical understanding his body is slowly healing itself."

"Take me to him." She ordered. He nodded, and obeyed. What she saw would have scared her hair white, if it was not already. There were tubes and wires everywhere, but she hid her emotions and sat a bare fraction of her weight on the bed "Hey. They tell me you walked into fire again. No I know you can't talk."

It was another medical mystery, but not a sign showed outside his body. Harry's aged, but unscarred hand brushed her cheek. He smiled when she took it.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked, although Harry had not spoken. Then turning, tears on her cheeks she said "Turn these things off. He's in pain.

Product of a scientific education, the Doctor replied "Your husband is alive and despite all logic, will live if given enough time to recover."

"Not when every instant is pain." Susan countered, decades of command reinforced her tone "That's not alive. That is an abomination. Do as I say!"

Hardly the doctor's first encounter with distraught relatives, he calmly and politely replied "Ma'am I promise you, your husband is deeply medicated and cannot feel pain. Now please, it might be best if you-"

"We've been married longer than you've been alive! Stupid Muggle!" she snapped angrily "Do you want a writ from King George!"

Lily caught his eye and the doctor froze "That would take too long, Mums. Imperio! Turn off those machines."

"Thanks hun." Harry spoke muddily around the plastic tube down his throat. He knew his life was to be measured in scant minutes "Give my love to the rest of the family."

Brother and Sister nodded to their Father "We love you too Dad." They said, then looked away. Neil made sure the door could not be opened. Lily smacked a pitcher over the doctor's head, which cleared him of any wrong doing without revealing magic.

"Join me in your own time. Love you." Were Harry's last words to the living "Dad, Mum … hey I used the gun. No spanking, right?"

Susan watched as life left his eyes and started to cry, then stopped and smiled "See you soon, Harry." She promised and kissed his cheek "I think my parents will love you."


"Harry Potter was my best friend." Susan spoke at the State Funeral "My lover, the father of four of the finest children ever to have been born. I would have cherished another century with him, but being who he was, he could not have done otherwise. He died as he lived. A hero"

There was a private funeral, or rather two. On the grounds of the Bones Estate, Harry's flesh was stripped and his skeleton was added to the decorations and defenses of Metacarpus Manor. At Kiln Keep, a casket with his flesh was carried (without magic) on a tour inside the structure. Thence to the private cemetery.

"I think you would be shocked to see this old woman I am, Harry." Susan addressed the silent painting. It was of Harry at about the time Hermione had reappeared as a teenager while they were in their mid-thirties. Not a hint of grey, but still a mature man.

James Harry Potter, her youngest, supported his mother effortlessly "You should activate him, Mum." He advised "Don't you want to talk to Dad again?"

"Of course I do, Jimmy." Not bothering to notice the greying man's reddening at the childish nickname.

And while James thought 'Honestly Mother! I'm approaching 100!' he actually said "Are you going to drop your retirement, Mother Minister?"

"NO Jimmy, I'm still out of office." She replied, milking the day for all it's worth "And glad of it. I'm too old for that anymore. Time for the younger set to run the world."

James looked scared about that, declaring "You're not old, Mum!"

"I most certainly AM!" she laughed, lightly slapping the bicep she hugged "But complement your Mummy and I'll be good to you in the afterlife! HAhahaha!" It wasn't quite her first laugh in the days since Harry's death but it still felt good.

Now the man became a boy "Don't joke about that, Mum! That's not funny!" he growled angrily.

"Oh I'm sorry, James." She turned serious, it did not matter, quite suddenly, that he was nearly 100 "You don't believe anything could happen to me? Do you?"


Susan slowed in the years after Harry's death. Her public appearances eventually stopped. Her last was attending the funeral of Hannah Abbott Longbottom. Members of her generation, few as they were, stayed in contact via Floo and Owl Post. Ancient grudges were talked about fondly. Even Millicent Boldstrode Goyle and Vincent Crabbe (Death Eaters who'd survived The Voldemort War) were among her friends. She'd begun outliving descendants, James, her youngest boy and a couple of grandchildren.

Over time, her travels among the Potter-Bones clan became family gatherings to visit the matriarch. During one such, Susan bounced around cheering a lively chase between two Seekers in a pickup Quidditch game. She yelled support for her Third Year Gryffindor Great-Great-Great-Great-Granddaughter, also a descendant of Ginny's. In jumping to her feet like a schoolgirl, Susan's body just stopped.

Mourners came from around the world. The State Funeral was even grander than the one for Harry, which was remembered as the biggest ever. It was noted that her face showed a gleeful smile. "I've got two reasons for that." A now elderly Neil Bones explained to the public "Either she saw little Susan's catch just as she died. Or she was walking into Dad's arms."

"Or perhaps it was both, Grandfather." Offered a royally attired youth. There should have been more than a couple of 'Greats' for accuracy, but one did not correct the future King.

Neil refrained from a pat on the shoulder, which was completely against protocol, but replied with a technically disrespectful, but true, form of address "Perhaps so, son. Thanks. I like that. There are two moments my parents always spoke of that defined their marriage. Both were public, so I've seen them even though they occurred before I was born. When they were scarcely children themselves. First being his admonishment to her, right before the duel with Voldemort that Mum die of nothing but old age. I would say Dad would approve of the timing, and manner, of Mum's passing. Even before that, before they were even a couple … Heh, if you can imagine that… was the day Dad stood before the Wizengamot and publicly thanked Mum and Auntie Amelia for freeing him from Azkaban. Thank you all for coming, and for listening to an old man prattle on."