Chapter 64

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Chapter 64: A Life Without Shadows

The Headmaster's office was quiet, the only sounds coming from the gentle crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of Fawkes' feathers. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingers interlocked, watching Harry in thoughtful silence.

Harry stood by the shattered fragments of the ruby, the Sword of Gryffindor now resting by his side. His face was unreadable—calm, but devoid of the triumph or relief Dumbledore had anticipated.

"You've done it, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "Voldemort is truly gone. You should be ecstatic, or at the very least, relieved."

Harry remained silent, his emerald eyes staring past Dumbledore, as though seeing something distant and intangible.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly. "What's wrong?"

"It's over," Harry said, the words quiet but weighted, as if he couldn't quite believe them himself. "It's really over."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That is a good thing, surely?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I've been preparing for this as long as I can remember in this life," he admitted. "I didn't know what I was expecting—fireworks, maybe some sort of catharsis—but this… this wasn't it."

Dumbledore regarded him carefully. "Would it have made a difference if it ended differently?"

Harry shook his head, his answer simple but emphatic. "No."

The conviction in his voice was unmistakable, but there was still a lingering uncertainty in his expression.

Harry's gaze dropped to the shattered fragments of the ruby. "So much of my life in the previous timeline was defined by Voldemort and you. Even after your deaths, you both cast long shadows over everything."

Dumbledore listened without interruption, his face lined with sympathy.

"In this life," Harry continued, "I was so focused on Voldemort that I never thought about what came next. Now he's gone, and I feel... disoriented." He let out a humorless laugh. "It's like standing at the edge of a cliff with nowhere to jump. There's nothing left."

A long pause settled between them.

Finally, Harry's voice broke the silence, soft and questioning. "What now?"

It wasn't directed at Dumbledore but hung in the air, an existential question born from years of purpose suddenly gone.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked over to Harry. Placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, he smiled gently.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice warm and reassuring, "you live your life."

Harry's shoulders sagged, the weight he hadn't realized he was carrying finally lifting, even if only slightly.

"Live my life," Harry echoed quietly, as though testing the words.

Dumbledore gave a slight nod. "There is more to life than battles and darkness. It's time you discovered that for yourself."

Elsewhere, across the world, a strange phenomenon unfolded.

In hidden manors and dark corners where Death Eaters once gathered, a sharp, stinging pain seared across their inner left forearms.

The Dark Mark, once a proud symbol of their allegiance to Voldemort, began to dissolve bit by bit, fading into nothingness.

Lucius Malfoy gripped his arm with wide eyes, disbelief etched on his pale face as the mark disappeared completely.

Bellatrix Lestrange clutched her forearm, a scream of fury echoing through the cold stone walls of her cell in Azkaban as the mark faded.

All around the wizarding world, remnants of Voldemort's reign felt the sting of his death.

Voldemort was gone. And death had claimed its due at last.

Back in the Headmaster's office, Harry felt a strange peace settle within him. The storm that had defined his existence was finally over.

As Fawkes let out a soft, melodic trill, Harry looked up at Dumbledore.

"I guess it's time to figure out who I am without him," Harry said quietly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once more. "Indeed. And I suspect you'll find that person to be remarkable."

Harry took a steady breath. For the first time in two lifetimes, he truly felt free.