We Met In Detention ✓

this is an alternative ending because i'm not completely awful xx

i still prefer my other ending

icl im only writing this cuz im emotionally attached to wmid

also im writing this months after finishing wmid so icl i forgot how i wrote this book

cuz yk the book im writing rn is third person

ive come to the decision that i hate first person

~Harry's POV

Awake I opened my eyes to see, a hospital, so white and clean. I was walking on Hogwarts ground, I think? I can't recall, at all, a single thing.

Draco held a hand for me, he was there. I know, but couldn't reach for me?

"Mr Potter?"

My eyes dart to the woman in front of me. I expected her to be Madam Pomfrey, but it wasn't. Instead, it was a tall, pink-haired woman with a buzzcut. Nothing like Pomfrey at all.

"Do you remember what happened?"

I thought back to what I could last remember. I was at Hogwarts, with my friends.

After I caught the Elder Wand, I found Lucius Malfoy. He, realising I was alive, tried to finish what Voldy started. So I used my favourite spell against him, resulting in him lying on the floor, lifeless.

And then I ran to find Hermione and Ron. I had to find them, because if anything happened I'd kill myself. I remember being so happy that I killed Voldemort that I no longer wanted to kill myself.

It was like killing him killed my list of reasons. No reason to go back to Privet Drive, no reason to be on edge wherever I went. I would be free to live my life the way I wanted, and maybe even fix it. I would get help, preferably with magic, and recover from my eating disorder.

Maybe get therapy, maybe get clean from self-harm. I remember feeling like that was it, that was my motivation to get better. I felt invincible, undefeatable. Nothing could hurt me after that- that's what I remember.

"Mr Potter?"

A knife.

Bellatrix's dagger, I remember it now. She loved him, so she left her dagger with him. Voldemort happened to have it with him that night. That's what hit my chest.

An hour later, I remember closing my eyes, but not opening them again. Perhaps that's what he meant by him raising his index finger. At least he gave me an hour to tie up loose ends, right?

But I didn't die. I'm here?

I was in Draco's arms, saying my goodbyes, but it's not over. I got married to him, before I took my 'last' breath. I'm still here, so how on Earth does that work?

How long has it been, I wonder.

"Mr Potter." Another woman said, calmly, reminding me of McGonagall.

Looking up at the woman, I realised it was in fact her. But she wasn't in her typical robes, with her pointy hat that suited only her.

"McGonagall?"

She looked confused.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall, yes. How do you know my name?"

Now I was confused. "You taught me Transfiguration for five years? How could I forget?"

She sighed. "I'm not a teacher, Mr Potter. I believe this must be a side-effect from the head trauma you've received."

"What do you mean? What head trauma? Didn't I get stabbed?"