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Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.

“Are you sure?” said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.

“I think Harry’s right,” said Hermione quietly.

“That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”

Epilogue.
NINETEEN YEARS LATER

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp as an apple, and as the little family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Two large cages tattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the redheaded girl trailed fearfully behind her brothers, clutching her father’s arm.

“It won’t be long, and you’ll be going too,” Harry told her.

“Two years,” sniffed Lily. “I want to go now!”

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Albus’s voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.

“I won’t! I won’t be a Slytherin!”

“James, give it a rest!” said Ginny.

“I only said he might be,” said James, grinning at his younger brother. “There’s nothing wrong with that. He might be in Slytherin—”

But James caught his mother’s eye and fell silent. The five Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, James took the trolley from his mother and broke into a run. A moment later, he had vanished.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Albus asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his brother.

“Every day, if you want us to,” said Ginny.

“Not every day,” said Albus quickly, “James says most people only get letters from home about once a month.”

“We wrote to James three times a week last year,” said Ginny.

“And you don’t want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,” Harry put in. “He likes a laugh, your brother.”

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Albus winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared.

“Where are they?” asked Albus anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

“We’ll find them,” said Ginny reassuringly.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody’s faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud, Harry thought he head Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello…

“I think that’s them, Al,” said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Harry, Ginny, Lily, and Albus had drawn right up to them.

“Hi,” said Albus, sounding immensely relieved.

Читайте також:

1. Aberforth Dumbledore stood blocking the corridor ahead, his wand held ready.
2. After an hour or so, Hagrid and Slughorn began making extravagant toasts: to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, to elf-made wine, and to—
3. And Harry’s feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
4. And pulling Dumbledore’s uninjured arm around his shoulders, Harry guided his headmaster back around the lake, bearing most of his weight.
5. As he had hoped, Ron was waiting for him, still fully dressed, sitting on his bed. Harry sat down on his own four-poster and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.
6. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
7. Aunt Petunia nodded.
8. BIOGRAPHY OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
9. But Dumbledore held up his hand to stem the flood of explanations.
10. But Dumbledore was having difficulty pulling out the stopper of the crystal bottle: His injured hand seemed stiff and painful.
11. But Mrs. Cole pulled up short, and there was nothing blurry or vague about the inquisitorial glance she shot Dumbledore over her gin glass.
12. Certainly Dumbledore returned to Godric’s Hollow at once, supposedly to “care” for his younger brother and sister. But how much care did he actually give them?

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