Guest Essay8: Arabella’s Epilogues

Three alternative endings, in a light vein, one each for the three faux-Hallows books in “print,” by beloved HogPro All-Pro, Arabella Figg.

Lord Voldemort Exclusive

By Arabella Figg

Rita Skeeter: So Lord Voldemort, we’ll just say the ending of the story was a complete surprise.

LV: Yes, no one expected me to repent.

RS: It was rather a shock.

LV: My Death Eaters were quite disappointed (high-pitched laugh).

RS: From sociopath to savior of the Wizarding World. What a resume.

LV: Yes, nothing like a little irony to upset the fans.

RS: And Harry Potter?

LV: Ah, he’s still mad. He’ll get over it. He’s got that Weasley girl to make it up to him. And his scar is gone. What’s he got to complain about?

RS: So, Lord Voldemort, sorry, you want to be known as Tom Marvolo now, don’t you?

LV: Yes, I think it best. Still don’t like the name Riddle.I got called Tom Piddle too many times as a kid. Why else do you think I twiddled those kids’ brains?

RS: So, Tom, what’s in your future?

LV: Well, I plan to take that DADA job now. Took off the jinx. I think I know a thing or two to teach the kids (wink).

Epilogue-Snape’s Number

“At last this is over!” declared Severus Snape tiredly, running his fingers through his revolting greasy hair as he locked up his office. He shook out his dreary robes as he contemplated his future.

Killing Dumbledore and then helping to dispatch Voldemort had been distressing for the Potions master. He shuddered at the most gruesome part where Voldemort had beheaded Harry with a Ginsu knife. Luckily, Severus had invented a Decleavius spell as a teen; he’d never had to use it on a human before now. All that blood gushing everywhere, quite nauseating, really.

At last Severus could drop the disguise of evil Potions master he’d been using since Dumbledore had recruited him as a teen. It wasn’t really his specialty, but a necessary wartime job. He’d spent a lot of time reading up on the subject, just to keep ahead of his students. Thankfully, they were mostly such dolts, they never caught on.

After all the ruckus died down at Voldemort’s spectacular demise, Severus was finally able to disabuse the wizarding community’s misapprehension that he was a closet vampire. He was actually afraid of the dark and dreaded those nighttime Hogwarts patrols. Between his dungeon and the gloomy weather he’d never gotten to use the beach towel and bathing trunks his mother had bought him.

It was nice to be at peace with everyone; no more suspicious, speculating looks. Deep down, he really wished to be friendly to everyone. It had been difficult to be nasty and cruel, but he had done it. To compensate, he’d given donations to the Magical Creature Humane Society.

But at last Severus could get on with his life. First, a long, hot shower, after shoving his dreadful robes in the rubbish bin. He planned to get his hair styled-perhaps a rumpled, spiky look would be nice. Next he’d acquire some fashionable and colorful clothes, hit the tanning salon and seek tattoo removal. Maybe get some cool Ray-Bans.

Then he’d buy a nice, sunny flat in London and a cottage in the Cotswolds-maybe raise some sheep. Yes, he’d feel like a new man.

And Severus could now finally fulfill his lifelong passion of being an accountant. He’d always liked numbers. They didn’t have the habit of smelling foul, blowing up, biting or swimming in slime.

It had been nice to finally be recognized for his heroic exploits, but Severus was done with it all.

Clearly, fame wasn’t everything.

Epilogue-Harry’s Spectacular Finish

It was all over now and Harry had one last mission.

He wandered down a London street, intent on a quite serious errand. It was something he’d dreamed of for several years, now, and he looked forward to accomplishing it.

The first part of his goal had been completed. He’d had his hair colored light brown with blond streaks.

Harry stopped in front of a festive shop window, full of anticipation. Slowly, he took off his round spectacles and held them lightly in his hand. How he despised them!

These ancient frames had been bought at a jumble sale by his Aunt Petunia because they were a bargain; she’d then bought him cheap lenses. How he hated these ridiculous spectacles. He been mercilessly teased about them in his early years-”Hey, marble-eyes!” Everyone else had cool rectangular frames, but he had to look like an owlish freak.

He’d worn them all throughout his Hogwarts years as well. At least his fame had helped some there. But now he was through with them.

Harry dropped them on the sidewalk and joyously smashed them with his foot.

He took a deep breath and walked into the oculist’s shop. “I want contacts,” he said, feeling suddenly powerful in a way he’d never felt, even during his victory over Voldemort.

“And make them blue,” he added.

Harry never again wanted to hear that he looked like his dad and had his mum’s eyes.

The dark blond, blue-eyed wizard walked out of the shop and went to meet Ginny at a nearby sushi café. He’d never been so happy.