Passing through darkness into my own world
Will I be more than when I left?
Never letting go of the lessons I learned
This will make a change
A change within me

"More Than It Seems"
Kutless

HARRY:

The first person I saw when I opened my eyes wasn't Quirrell, nor was it Voldemort. It wasn't Ron or Hermione or Lucy, either. It was none other than Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon, Harry," he said, smiling.

Everything rushed back at once. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick-"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times. Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I-"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

I looked around for the first time. Was this the Hospital Wing? I noticed the table next to me was overflowing with... things.

Dumbledore followed my gaze. "Tokens from your friends and admirers. What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

I managed a smile. "Of course they did." I relaxed slightly, trying to compose myself. "How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger and Miss Diggory will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone-"

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?"

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

I recalled the Snitch. Or, well, what I thought was the Snitch. "It was you."

"I feared I might be too late."

I sighed in relief. "You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer-"

"Not the Stone, boy, you... the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

Sadness settled in my stomach. "Destroyed? But your friend, Nicolas Flamel, he-"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas? You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die. To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for
them."

I didn't know what to say for several seconds. "Sir? I've been thinking... sir, even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who-"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share. Not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time. And if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

I paused. Did I dare? Yes, I did. "Sir... there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me, things I want to know the truth about."

He sighed, as if he'd been expecting this but was not entirely glad it had come to pass. "The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well, Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

He sighed the same sigh. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day. Put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older, and I know you hate to hear this, but when you are ready, you will know."

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

For a reason I can't explain, a couple of tears leaked from my eyes. I dried them quickly and found my voice again. "And the Invisibility Cloak. Do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah, your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

I smiled. I hadn't thought of that yet. But I still had more important matters on my mind. "Quirrell said Snape-"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him. Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes. Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt. I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace."

"And sir, there's one more thing."

"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes! Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them, but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" He choked on the bean. "Alas, earwax!"

As soon as he left, Lucy, Ron, and Hermione rushed to my bedside.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to-" Hermione said, speaking incredibly quickly. "Dumbledore was so worried-"

"The whole school's talking about what happened. What really happened?" Ron asked.

I rubbed my aching head, then launched into my story. "Well, once I walked through the fire, it wasn't Snape or Voldemort on the other side. It was Professor Quirrell!"

All three of them gasped.

"It turns out Snape was never trying to kill me. It was Quirrell all along. You knocked him out of the way at the first Quidditch match, Hermione, and Snape refereed the second match so Quirrell wouldn't try anything else. He let the troll in on Halloween, and Snape somehow figured it out. The Mirror of Erised was in the chamber, and Quirrell saw himself giving the Stone to Voldemort in it, but he couldn't figure out how it worked or how to get the Stone to give to Voldemort."

Ron looked nervous every time I said Voldemort, but I was too busy trying to recall everything to switch to You-Know-Who.

"I would have tried to stand next to him in the mirror, but I was all tied up with rope. Then, he asked his 'master' for help with the mirror, and this... voice told him to use me. He snapped the ropes and pushed me to the mirror, when, all of a sudden, I felt the Stone fall into my pocket. He asked what I saw, and I said something about winning the House Cup. But the same voice knew I was lying somehow, and asked Quirrell to let him speak to me face-to-face. And you'll never guess what Quirrell was hiding under his turban --- Voldemort himself!"

Hermione screamed, and Lucy and Ron both gasped again. I nodded, then stopped, because nodding made my head hurt even more.

"I know. He tried to take it from me, the Stone I mean, and Quirrell tried to choke me, but every time he touched me, I burned him. For what it was worth, touching him made my scar hurt, a lot, and it still hurts, honestly. But I knew I had to keep touching him to stop him from firing a curse at me, so I did, and then I blacked out, and, well, now I'm here."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered after a moment, thoroughly horrified. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Everyone is," Lucy said, lowering herself onto the foot of my bed. She looked somewhat ill herself, but she smiled anyway. "Did you hear about the twins' toilet seat?"

"Yeah, I did," I chuckled.

Ron, however, was uncharacteristically serious and not about to be distracted. "So the Stone's gone? Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that... what was it? 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"

"I always said he was off his rocker," he replied with a disappointed shake of his head.

"I don't know," Lucy said, tossing one of her braids over her shoulder. "It makes sense to me. But for today, I'm glad that we're all alive, and together, not off on 'the next great adventure.'"

We all "Mhm!"ed our emphatic agreement

"What happened with you three?" I asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Nothing terribly exciting. Lucy and I got back alright. We brought Ron back around and got to the room with the keys. But the door behind us had been locked again, so we had to catch another key. Without you to catch it, Lucy did, then we flew up to Fluffy's room, and-"

"And then we were heading to the owlery when we saw Professor Dumbledore," Lucy interrupted. Lucy was already blushing, but she turned beet red at the mention of Fluffy. Hermione bit back a giggle. "All he said was 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and raced up to the third floor. Then the twins took us to the common room, where they had already helped Neville."

"How did the twins know?"

"They said they were heading down to the kitchens for a post-exams feast and they found Neville in the common room instead."

"Oh, and Harry, you missed it!" Ron exclaimed. "Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup!"

"Because of you, really," Lucy cut in quickly. "Your quick catch against my brother in the Hufflepuff match really helped us in the standings."

"But wait, if I wasn't Seeker, who was?" Lucy's intensifying blush told me all I needed to know. I smiled. "How was it? Easier than catching a flying key, isn't it?"

"Definitely. The Nimbus was amazing," she said, quite starry-eyed as she glanced away with the ghost of a smile on her face. "I figured you wouldn't mind if I borrowed it for a match. Truly the best broom in the world. But I'm more than happy to replace Skye as Chaser. I'd rather be in the middle of all the action fighting for every goal. I didn't like feeling the weight of the game on my shoulders." She turned to face me, eyes serious again, cocking her head slightly. "You're the more natural hero, Harry. I'd follow you into fire, but I don't know if I'd be brave enough to walk into it by myself, for myself."

"I'm sure you would be," I said. "I'm sure all of you would be, but we don't have to worry about that ever happening. Or at least... I hope not."

"Not yet, anyway," Ron corrected, with a wry grin.

Madam Pomfrey shooed them away shortly after that, and I was finally left to my own silent thoughts. I laid back down and closed my eyes, visions of all I had seen the past year dancing through my mind. The Sorting. Lucy's accident in the Forbidden Forest. The troll on Halloween. My first Quidditch match. The incredible Christmas, followed by seeing my family in the Mirror of Erised. The second Quidditch match. Norbert the dragon, and getting caught after saving him. The weeks of shunning and studying that followed. Seeing Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. And the Stone, and all that came before it. It was quite the year. And I was finally free to rest, it seemed, but I couldn't. My head seemed as if it would burst with all I had learned and experienced. Nevertheless, my eyelids were heavy, and I slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

After being released from the Hospital Wing, I couldn't go anywhere without being bombarded with awestruck stares and excited whispers. Dumbledore was right. The whole school did know what had happened between me and Quirrell in the dungeons. Ron and Hermione and Lucy didn't receive nearly the same attention I did, but I think they were glad for that, Lucy especially.

Empowered by his victory over Professor McGonagall's chess set, Ron challenged anyone and everyone who dared to a game of wizard's chess in the common room. It was entertaining to see even seventh-years lose horribly to the freckle-faced first-year. It was even more entertaining to see Professor McGonagall herself lose to Ron, though she put up the best fight of any of the other competitors.

Hermione didn't really know what to do with herself now that there were no ancient sorcerers to research or riddles to solve or even exams to study for, so she often spent her time asking Percy Weasley about O.W.L.s and what she should do to prepare, even though they were four years away. He took her completely seriously, to everyone's surprise and amusement, and she always left their conversations with a roll's worth of notes.

The twins had started talking to Lucy again, much to her delight, so they often disappeared from the common room, smirking and speaking in low voices, and returning several hours later with a couple new bruises and scorch marks but grinning from ear to ear. I had tried asking Lucy once what they were up to, because I hadn't heard about anybody being pranked as of late, but she just smiled and said not to worry, the twins knew what they were doing. She described it as "filling in the gaps" of her education.

As for myself, I took all of this in silently. I played Ron a couple of times, but it was honestly more fun just to watch. I listened to Hermione's excited ramblings about the next year's coursework, though I didn't have the slightest clue what a Mandrake was or why it looked so... human. When she wasn't with the twins, Lucy was often sitting beside me watching Ron or listening to Hermione, though she did disappear once. When I asked Hermione where she had gone and if she was okay, Hermione just said the stress of the year had finally caught up with Lucy, and she needed a little while by herself to rest. The twins had nodded their agreement.

"Don't look so worried," Fred had teased. "It wasn't our fault."

"She just needs to be left alone sometimes," George said, "but she always comes back better than ever once she's had a chance to find herself again."

Hermione had bit her lip at this, but didn't disagree. She opened her mouth to say something else, but we were then distracted by the emergence of Dom with his enchanted record player that once belonged to my mother, and the subject was dropped. Lucy returned the next day, looking a little tired but otherwise acting as if nothing had ever happened, so I played along as well and challenged her to a broom race around the school.

She laughed. "Once I get a Nimbus of my own, sure." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Just between you and me, I've been saving every single knut and sickle I've been given in an envelope in the corner of my wardrobe back home since my seventh birthday so I could buy my own broom once I made the team. I think this summer will be the year I finally bring it with me to Diagon Alley." Her eyes widened. "Oh, that reminds me! I've been meaning to ask everyone for their birthdays! What's yours?"

"July 31," I answered. "Ron's is in March, and I'm not sure about Hermione's. What's yours?"

She smirked. "That's my secret. And don't try to ask Cedric, because I made him swear not to tell anyone under threat of glitter bomb. He knows not to tell."

I laughed. "Alright, alright, fine, keep your secret. I'll find another way."

"I wouldn't bet on it," she replied as she slipped away to ask Hermione her birthday.

The night of the farewell feast came altogether too soon. I groaned when we walked in to see the Slytherin colors hanging from the ceiling.

"I'm happy for Archie and Cam, at the very least," Lucy said, "and for the nice Slytherin that helped me with Cedric on Halloween. But everyone else..."

"I hear you," Ron agreed with a disgusted look on his face. It vanished quickly. "But oh well! I'm just excited for the feast!"

We settled into our table and watched as Dumbledore rose at the front of the room. The Hall fell silent.

"Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Everyone in green robes cheered and hollered and stamped. Malfoy seemed particularly excited, slamming his goblet on the table and not seeming to notice nor care that pumpkin juice splashed everywhere.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account."

It seemed the whole room held its collective breath.

"Ahem. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Ron was buried by his brothers, followed by whoever was close enough to jump on the dog pile. The roar from everyone else was deafening. When it finally died down, there was another announcement.

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione sobbed into her arms as another boisterous explosion of noise filled the hall. It went on and on, until finally Dumbledore spoke again.

"Third, to Miss Lucy Diggory for the wise use of gifts both given and innate, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Lucy's blush was so intense she looked near exploding herself. I laughed as the twins nudged her and pointed from her face to her robes and shouted that there was no difference. A third commotion seemed to nearly tear the ceiling off. But he was still not done.

"Fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

I found myself pulled in many different directions as everyone reached for me and tugged on anything they could grab. I couldn't stop smiling. It was unreal.

When the room finally returned to silence, there was one last announcement. Dumbledore smiled. "There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

As Neville was buried under what looked like three dozen people all trying to hug him, I noticed the look on Draco Malfoy's face. I tapped Ron and Hermione and pointed, the twins and Lucy following my gaze. We all laughed and cheered even louder. The decorations overhead changed from green and silver to red and gold with a flourish as the plates before us filled with food. I don't recall a merrier meal in my entire life.

After the feast, Lucy, Hermione, Ron, and I happened to be the last ones in the common room. The twins left around midnight, jokingly warning us not to run off and defeat Voldemort without them again. Lucy had retorted that they were the ones who hit Voldemort in the face with snowballs unknowingly, which made us all laugh as the realization dawned on us.

"I'm going to bed too," Hermione said with a yawn. "I don't want to go home a complete zombie."

"Me neither," Ron agreed. "The last thing I need is my mum fussing over how tired I look. She'll fuss enough over the whole Quirrell situation as is. Good night."

"Good night," Lucy and I called after them. And just like that, we were alone with our backs to the couch and our feet extended toward the fireplace, hers stockinged and mine bare. Finally alone, I could ask the question that had been bugging me for a week at that point.

"Hey, Lucy, I've been wondering."

"Mhm?"

"How on earth did you know that riddle? The one written in runes?"

She laughed breathily. "I was wondering when you'd ask that. Do you remember that book I got for Christmas? From Dumbledore, apparently?"

"Oh," I said, suddenly remembering. "Yeah, I do. It was in there?"

"Not exactly. Well, I got another note on my birthday, with the riddle on one side and a short warning on the front saying I needed to translate and memorize it. I did, and it ended up being useful."

"Life-saving, more like it."

"I suppose," she said in a small voice. She sighed. "I take it you're staying up because you don't really want to go home, either?"

"Yeah, you're right. I don't." I sighed as well. "I have to spend two miserable months with my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley."

"It doesn't sound like you're overly fond of them."

I huffed a laugh. "They're not overly fond of me either. Or of any wizardkind, really. But to be fair, Hagrid did give my cousin a pig's tail on my birthday last year."

Lucy laughed for real at that. "That would leave a less-than-favorable impression, I take it."

"Yeah, it did. Why don't you want to go home?"

"Er... it's nothing. I mean, my family is pure-blood, so I don't have the same difficulties you do. I'm looking forward to spending more time with Cedric, and hopefully the Weasleys. We've lived near the same village all my life, but I've only ever visited the Burrow a couple of times. It should be a good summer, honest."

"But...?"

"But... I don't know. I don't know if Cedric will still want to spend time with me after a year in different houses, or if he does, if we'll be the same as we were last summer. I don't know if the Weasleys will want to spend time with me, or if my parents will even allow it."

"Why wouldn't they?" I didn't need to see Lucy's face to sense the smirk on it. I chuckled. "Right. Fred and George."

She giggled. "Bingo. They don't need magic to make mischief. To be honest, my parents aren't terribly fond of letting Cedric and I wander too far from the house anyway, but when Cedric came home from Hogwarts his first year talking about all of the shenanigans of the twins, my parents didn't want them to, ah, influence me." She giggled again. "If only they knew."

"I'd say you've mutually influenced each other," I posited. "You keep them out of trouble because they're teaching you advanced spells."

"How did you-"

"I may not be as brilliant as Hermione, but I saw that spell you used against the troll on Halloween. I know you didn't learn that from a book. Not to mention all of those unlocking charms you somehow knew down in the dungeons."

I also didn't need to see Lucy to know she was blushing. "In my defense, with a friend like you, I have to be prepared for anything from three-headed dogs to Voldemort himself."

It was my turn to blush. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" she asked incredulously. "Harry, I wouldn't trade it for the world. Think about it. Going home tomorrow, who can say they've helped raise a dragon? Who can say they've defeated a troll? Who can say they've literally walked through fire? Not even Fred and George can say that."

"It doesn't sound too bad when you put it that way," I admitted.

"Because it's not. You don't always seek out trouble, Harry, but whenever it comes, you rise to face it. And I think that's what Gryffindor is all about. Sorry," she said, suddenly shy and blushing again, "I don't know where that came from. I sure sounded like Dumbledore giving a speech there, didn't I?"

"No, Lucy, it's okay," I said, "honest. You're right." I sighed. "I still don't want to go back, but you are right. We're all going back with something new and different from what we had when we came."

"Besides," she added, no longer blushing as she turned to face me, "September will be coming soon enough, and something tells me the Stone was just the beginning."

The next morning, I was nearly to the train when Hagrid pulled me out of the crowd.

"Before yeh go, I've got you somethin'," he said, holding something behind his back.

"It's not a stoat sandwich for the trip back, is it?" I asked.

He chuckled. "No. Hopefully this is even better."

He pressed a leather-covered book into my hands and gestured for me to open it. When I did, there were several moving wizard photographs of my parents. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them away so I could see the pictures clearly.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos. Knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?"

"I do," I managed after a moment, talking around the massive lump in my throat. "So much. Thank you, Hagrid."

"It was the leas' I could do," he replied. "I told the evil git how to get past Fluffy, after all. It's all my fault."

"Hagrid! Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died!"

"But I didn't. It's alright, Hagrid, truly."

He sniffled then, and composed himself. "Be safe this summer, yeh hear? Or else I'll have ter give that porky cousin of yours another tail."

I grinned. "Noted." I hugged Hagrid one last time and scrambled onto the train, finding the car with Ron and Hermione and Lucy. We all leaned out of the window and waved farewell to Hagrid as the train pulled out of the station.

The train ride passed peacefully and uneventfully, for which I was thankful. I thought Malfoy would come and bother us, but the only Slytherin who visited was Archie, who had heard about Ron's wizard's chess dominance and wanted to see for himself if Ron was as good as everyone claimed. Needless to say, Ron won easily, but it was fun to watch.

When we got off the train, several people, most of whom I didn't recognize, wished me a good summer and said they'd see me next year. Lucy wedged herself between me and Ron as we pushed through the crowded platform; I reckoned she was afraid of getting swept away in the crowd, and probably rightfully so. When we had nearly reached the barrier, I spotted Cedric and waved him over, and he smiled as he extended his free hand for Lucy to grab.

"See you next year, Harry," he said. "We'll have a rematch on the Pitch, yeah?"

I grinned. "Yeah, we will." I smiled at Lucy. "Replace me as Seeker, and we can see a Diggory face-off."

She blushed. "Chaser's all I ever want to play, trust me. Seeker was beyond stressful. See you next year, Harry. And Hermione, be sure to send me lots of-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence, because Hermione threw her arms around Lucy and held on tightly, bags and all. Though initially startled, Lucy relaxed slightly and hugged back.

"It's only a couple months, Hermione," Cedric said comfortingly. "You'll see her again before you know it."

"Besides," Ron added, "you'll have to come to my house. All of you."

Hermione let go of Lucy and nodded, wiping away a couple of tears.

I nodded too. "I'll need something to look forward to."

The five of us passed through the gateway together. Lucy and Cedric waved at us one last time and headed over to who I assume were their parents. Their father had shoulder-length grey hair and spectacles that glinted when he clapped a hand on Cedric's back. Their mother smiled kindly as she swooped Lucy into a hug.

"There he is, Mum, there he is, look!" I glanced over to see Ginny Weasley pointing and smiling and blushing. "Harry Potter! Look, Mum! I can see-"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley smiled at us as we approached. "Busy year?"

I nodded vigorously. "Very. Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Ready, are you?"

I jumped and turned to face Uncle Vernon. He looked increasingly angry as he glanced from Hedwig to my suitcases to the Weasleys behind me. In contrast, Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked terrified. I nodded.

Mrs. Weasley either didn't see their expressions or opted to ignore them. "You must be Harry's family!"

Uncle Vernon didn't like that very much. "In a manner of speaking. Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day."

I hesitated. Then something wonderful occurred to me. I turned to Ron and Hermione. "See you over the summer, then." I looked around for Lucy, but her family had already disappeared.

Hermione stared over my shoulder at my family. "Hope you have - er - a good holiday."

I grinned. "Oh, I will. They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer."

A/N: Well, there you have it! The end of Year 1 for Lucy Everlin Diggory! I hope you had as much fun reading about her adventures as I did writing about them.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for twenty chapters! Every single like and comment and reader makes this story worth writing, and I appreciate each and every one of you more than words can say. You're truly the best!

I know a lot of creators on this website in particular divide their Harry Potter fanfics into different books by year, and I also am fully aware that my story is definitely long enough to do that. (Almost 300 pages for Year 1 alone? Yeesh.) But to be quite frank, I wasn't thinking about that when I began this story, so it'll end up being one massive book, Years 1-7 and beyond, so just be prepared for that!

Thank you again for all of your support! Summer of 1992, here we come!