"I can't do that, Ron. You know that," Harry said, his voice gentle but firm, his gaze meeting his best friend's tear-filled one. "Know that I will always remember you as the brother I never had. I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I… I left a few gifts for you in your Gringotts vault. I didn't tell you earlier because I knew you'd argue, but I can't exactly use them where I'm going, so I figure you should have them."
Ron cuffed the side of his head, a familiar, affectionate gesture. "Prat," he said, though his voice was thick with emotion and a watery smile was on his face.
"You shouldn't have done that. You've already given everyone here more than they have any right to ask for, more than they deserve."
"Got that right," Harry mumbled under his breath, his eyes flicking over the still-growing, expectant crowd.
He had never truly gotten over his deep-seated anger and profound disappointment he felt for the fickle masses, but he tried his best, for the sake of his friends, to at least stomach them and put on a somewhat friendly, or at least neutral, face.
"I don't want you to go," Hermione wailed softly, burying her face into his shoulder again, her tears soaking his robes. Harry patted her back awkwardly, a lump forming in his own throat.
"C'mon, 'Mione," he told her quietly, his voice a little rough. "It's… it's for the best. You, of all people, should be able to see that. Logically, at least."
"I… I know," she sniffed, pulling back slightly, her eyes red and swollen. "It's selfish of me, I know it is. I'm probably just making this whole decision even harder for you. I just… I just want you to know how much I'll miss you, Harry. You've been one of my very best friends for so many years now. I'll always, always treasure those years."
Harry smiled, a soft, sad smile. "It's the same for me, Hermione. Just like Ron, you were a sister to me in every way that truly mattered. I wish you, and Ron, and your wonderful children, all the very best in the world."
He gave them both one last, tight hug, then reluctantly pulled away and moved towards Daphne's family.
There were noticeably fewer tears being shed here, which Harry was somewhat glad for. He wasn't sure how much more emotional farewells he could handle.
"So, this is it then," Daphne said, her voice surprisingly steady, though her eyes held a deep sadness that mirrored his own. A sense of finality hung in the air between them.
"That it is," Harry replied. "I guess you can't really call yourself my 'left-hand guy' anymore, can you?" He managed a small, teasing smile. "I want you to know how much I'll miss you, Daph. And all the invaluable help, and frankly, all the crap you've put up with from me over the years." He gave her one last, heartfelt hug.
He pulled away and then turned to Blaise Zabini, Daphne's husband. The man who had, years ago, defied his pureblood family and their dark allegiances to stand with Daphne, to stand with them.
More than anything else, that selfless act of courage and love had earned Blaise his eternal respect.
"Blaise," Harry said, his voice firm and serious. "I know I don't really need to say it, but I'm going to say it anyways. Take care of her, always. Till your very last breath."
Blaise met his gaze, his own expression equally serious, and then a slow, confident smile spread across his face. He extended his hand.
"With pleasure, Potter," he said, his voice sincere. "With absolute pleasure." They shook hands firmly, a silent understanding passing between them.
Harry gave a final, small wave to Daphne, Blaise, and little Evelyn, then turned and headed up the hastily erected podium that had been prepared for him in front of the ancient, whispering archway of the Veil.
He looked out over the sea of faces, the entire crowd staring intently at him, waiting, he suspected, for him to reaffirm them one last time, to give them some parting words of wisdom or reassurance before he left their world forever.
Harry thought for a moment about what he was going to say, and then a small, almost wry smile touched his lips.
"I've never really been one for many words," he began, his voice magically amplified to carry throughout the vast chamber.
"As most of you probably know, I've always preferred actions to them. So, I won't say too much today. But I will tell you something that an old, wise, long-bearded man once said to me, many years ago. He said, 'Do not mourn for me, because this is not really the end, but rather me going onto my next great adventure.'"
"Many of you have looked at me, for quite a long time now, to define greatness, to be your savior, your hero. And I look back at all of you now, hoping that you at least realized, in the end, that it was not I that was inherently great, but rather the times we all created together, the things we achieved, the bonds we forged… those were what was truly great."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I hope that I, at least, was able to have created some good, some great times, with all of you before I departed. I hope that many of you will remember me not for the faults that I undoubtedly had which, I assure you, I did have, plenty of them but rather for the accomplishments I managed to make, for the good I tried to do. And with that," Harry finished, his voice ringing with a newfound sense of peace and finality, "I leave you all, to embark on my next great adventure."
He turned, without a backward glance, and approached the shimmering, unsettling Veil.
He could hear the roar of loud cheering and applause erupting from the crowd behind him. Seems his impromptu speech wasn't too bad for being thought of on the spot, he mused.
He hoped it sounded suitably heroic enough for a history book or two. He reached the edge of the archway, turned back one last time, and gave a final, small wave to everyone.
Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped directly into the darkness of the Veil, never noticing how the silver wolf-head medallion he always wore around his neck hummed with a faint, almost imperceptible energy, and glowed with a soft, ethereal light for just a fraction of a second as he did so.