No More by doshu

Chapter 8: Epilogue

Two Years Later

He was free.

He could feel the wind tearing through his hair, could hear it whistling past his ears.

In his eyes was the wash of colours, bright and flashing against the backdrop of the night sky.

He led the trail of green, and to either side the others led their own trails, some purple, some white. And together they spun, and rose, then dove down, all in perfect tandem.

There were more flashes in the corner of his eye, timed to coincide with the swell of music.

Gasps sounded out, scarcely heard in the mere moments that they soared over the stands and then they were ascending again, weaving in and out of their formation, defying gravity as they exchanged brooms in the air, still spinning.

As one they released their pouches and the glittering lights joined the streams of colours and the fireworks that continued to fly past and explode in the air around them.

Then the music was building to a climax, horns calling out triumphantly as one by one they flipped from their brooms, tumbling to the next broom below, forming a cascade of flowing movement. And then they were soaring again to the final beats of sound, halting suddenly as silence washed over the area and the light of the fireworks was abruptly extinguished.

The still silence lasted three heartbeats before the crowd burst into roaring applause, cheers and whistles calling out, and Harry's team flew laps over the stands to bow and wave at the spectators.

Hermione was there with Viktor right up front in the first row. Ron was right next to them, holding a squirming toddler in his lap, and a few seats over was Ginny, surrounded by some of her friends from the Harpies. Sirius and Remus were behind them, the former grinning while the latter smiled calmly. Around them were a mix of his Tepignac neighbours, whom he'd finally gotten to know and beyond that. . . .

They were all people who, like him, had a love of flying, regardless of who he was and what mark was on his forehead.

There was a tingle in that mark as he landed and threw his broom over his shoulder, grinning and exchanging shoulder slaps with his teammates. Then he waved them off and approached the stands, and his family.

"Impressive," Viktor said, his accent helping his voice cut through the clamour of similar exclamations from the others. "That vos some excellent flying."

"Thanks," Harry replied, the adrenaline from the show starting to leave him, making him feel all loose and happy.

"You didn't say that it would be so dangerous," Hermione chided, her voice pitched a bit high. "I mean, it's obviously not as dangerous as Quidditch but at one point no one was on a broom at all!"

"Hermione, Harry's managed to swallow a snitch, survive a bunch of dementors, and face a dragon while on a broom. Maybe he's actually safer when he's not on one?" Ginny suggested, tipping Harry a friendly wink.

"Boom!" interrupted the toddler, pointing at Harry's Firebolt with one hand while he tugged at Ron's ear with the other.

"You coming back with us, mate?" Ron asked as he bounced his son Eddie on his hip.

"Nah, he's probably got to run off with his lovely older man," Ginny said with an evil grin. Sirius promptly choked at those words.

"I'll catch up later," Harry said, a hand rising to pull awkwardly at his hair.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Hermione said kindly. "We'll be at the party in 151 whenever you can make it by."

"If his man lets him go before dawn, you mean," Ginny chortled, before she and part of the group headed off toward one of the forest trails.