Hello everyone, hope all are having a nice evening. This is the official last chapter of the fanfic that was inspired by this fun prompt. I wrote the other 5 chapters in 5 days and it got really intense at the end. I don't mind admitting that the last chapter before this one was rather emotional.

I had to write something more to end the fanfic. I felt the ending was a bit too bittersweet and really wanted to end it a little lighter. I hope y'all still find it enjoyable. Thank you all for joining me on this wonderful journey. Your encouragement and feedback has been immeasurably welcome.

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A Dance of Dementors

Chapter 6: Years Later, After the Very End

Harry was afraid.

That was not a new occurrence. There were plenty of times where he felt fear before. The Aura of Dementors, dealing with Voldemort time and again, the troll, a whole host of reasons. He has been afraid for himself, afraid for others. He was on a first name basis with Fear.

This was a new kind of fear and he absolutely hated it.

Not for the first time, he felt completely and utterly powerless. He literally could do nothing in this moment and he hated it with an intensity that eclipsed anything else he had hated ever before. Even during the War, even trying to figure out how to help the Ritual Dementors, even running for his life, he never felt like this. Before he could always do something, anything, no matter how futile or inconsequential it seemed. All he could do now was wait.

Wait and pace.

He only paced for a few more steps before a hand fell on his shoulder. He did not flinch, he thankfully had outgrown that reaction to unexpected touch. Most of the time anyways.

“Have a seat son, before you drive yourself completely mad,” Arthur said kindly.

Harry loved how his belly squirmed when Arthur called him son. He did not think he would ever get tired of it. He let his father-in-law guide him to a chair and he sat with a grunt.

“Thattaboy,” Arthur said encouragingly. “You really have nothing to worry about. Trust me, I should know.”

Molly snorted. Ever since arriving she and Arthur had been islands of calm in the sea of Harry’s anxiety. She sat comfortably in a chair, knitting. “As if you had to do anything hard at the time,” she said to her smiling husband.

She turned her eyes to Harry and smiled warmly. “He is right though. We are in the perfect place, she’s getting the best care and attention. Relax dear, you’re not doing yourself any favors fretting.”

Harry grinned weakly. “It’s hard, being the first time, you know. Not that I don’t appreciate your sentiment.”

Arthur chuckled. “You have even less to worry about son. No Healer would ever want to be known as the one that failed the Boy-Who-Lived. That’ll make them work all the harder.”

“Arthur Weasley!” Molly flicked the end of her knitting at him, catching him in the stomach. “How dare you joke about such things! For shame you silly man.”

Arthur rubbed his stomach. “All in good faith dear. Besides, it seemed to do the trick,” he said, nodding at Harry.

The grin on Harry’s face was full now and he did feel a little better. He really did appreciate Molly and Arthur being there and their advice. They would know after all. It did not dispel all of his feelings but it certainly helped.

It was true. St Mungo’s Healers had taken Ginny back as soon as Harry and Ginny arrived. They were calm and kind and seemed perfectly professional. His brain knew anyways. His gut demanded that he oversee everything despite knowing nothing about Advanced Healing and the like.

The door opened and a green robed witch walked out, peeling off a mask. Harry felt a stab of anxiety go through his heart, immediately bracing himself for the worst. The Healer’s smile was genuine, her happiness apparent. “Good news! Everything went splendidly and they’re resting now. We’ve already moved them to their room. Come along, I’ll take you to them.”

Harry restrained himself from running past her. He felt immense relief and an aching need to see Ginny. Arthur and Molly followed him at a slightly more sedate pace but you could see they were relieved as well, and incredibly excited.

Harry opened the door and a pillow flew at him, just missing and smacking into the wall.

“I blame you for this Harry Potter,” Ginny said hoarsely. She tried to grab something else to throw. “You did this to me!”

Arthur chuckled while Molly clucked, shaking her head. Harry blushed, his face growing redder as the Healer and the Medi-witch and Medi-wizard laughed outright.

“There’s a reason we wait for the patient to be discharged before giving their wand back,” the Healer said.

“Good policy,” Harry replied. He felt his smile would never fade.

“It’s not just my fault,” he said to Ginny. “If I recall, you were more than willing. If anything you initiated it more often than not.”

Molly and Arthur grimaced. They looked like they were desperately trying to un-hear something.

Ginny smiled at her parents’ discomfort. She feebly tried to throw another pillow at Harry, only for Harry to grab hold of her wrist before planting a long kiss on her lips.

“Cheater,” she whispered as he pulled back. “Not fair. I was hoping to stay mad at you for a bit longer.”

“Stay mad?”

“Pretend to stay mad.” Ginny’s eyes softened as she looked at the precious bundle in the small cradle beside her. “Not really mad. Look at her.”

Harry did.

She was small, a tiny thing swaddled in clean white cloth. Strands of dark brownish red hair peeked past her little hat. Her face was impossibly carefree, eyes closed and mouth just barely opened.

“Go on then,” Ginny said. “Pick her up, greet your daughter.”

His hands trembled as he reached down for her. She looked small and felt even smaller. For a moment he hesitated, unsure if he should touch her. She looked incredibly fragile. He felt afraid again. Even more afraid than he was in the waiting room.

The baby whimpered.

Immediately he picked her up.

He was still careful of course, more careful with her than anything he had held before. He remembered to support her head, to cradle her close. He could feel how warm she was. He imagined he could feel her heart beat through her body. He felt his own heart swell and that tiny connection deep inside of him, the last gift he had received from the War, throbbed.

Molly sighed and held a hand to her heart. “You’re a natural dear. Just look at the way you look at her!”

“Born only for a few moments and already has you wrapped around her finger,” Arthur said with a smile that split his face in two.

Harry did not feel embarrassed at all. He sat beside Ginny on her bed, feeling his wife wrap her arms about his waist as they both looked down at the baby. “I think she looks a lot like you,” he said softly.

“Thank goodness for that,” Ginny said tartly making them both laugh. “Actually, I think she looks like the both of us mixed together. Especially her eyes.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

As if prompted, the baby opened her eyes. She looked about with interest before settling on Harry. They narrowed ever so slightly, as if trying to focus on this giant figure that was holding her. Her eyes were hazel, a blend of green and brown. Thin black strands were threaded through, almost as if the green and brown were bound together.

Harry lost himself in them.

“Oh! She has incredible eyes!” Molly gushed. Her hands twitched, wanting to hold her granddaughter. She looked so eager but was able to wait. “So beautiful.”

Harry held up his hand. “We did good work Ginny.”

Ginny gave him a high five, making her mother snort and the Healers and Medi assistants laugh. “Yeah we did,” Ginny said with a wink.

The Healer did a few quick diagnostic charms before slipping out with her assistants, leaving the family to celebrate. Harry was reluctant to let the baby go but he was filled with joy and affection seeing her be passed around the room. He finally got her back after she was fussing a little in Molly’s arms and the baby immediately went still as soon as Harry held her again.

“She already knows her father,” Arthur said.

Molly’s eyes sparkled. Her enchanted needles clicked and clacked on a chair in the corner, fueled by her enthusiasm. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

Ginny looked at Harry. “I know you wanted to name a daughter Lily. I think that’s a lovely name.” She hesitated briefly. “But…”

Harry shook his head. “She doesn’t feel like a Lily.” He looked down at her beautiful eyes, at the green and brown bound by black. “I…have another idea if I may. I think it’s a pretty name. And it’s a flower name too.”

At Ginny’s nod of encouragement Harry spoke softly, “Amaryllis.”

The baby smiled.

“Oh my word,” Molly whimpered, both hands to her heart. “Did you see that?!”

Ginny’s eyes twinkled and she sniffled. “Amaryllis Potter. I like that sound of that. Clearly the baby does too. Plus, it will give us plenty of opportunities for nicknames.”

While Ginny never met Amaryllis, not officially save that unfortunate time during her second year, she knew of her. After the War, after the Ritual Dementors were set free, Harry had told her about it all. About the witches and wizards who were “punished”, sentenced for senseless crimes to a punishment beyond inhumane.

Ginny had been shocked and horrified, much like everyone else who learned about it. She had worked hard with Harry to find out as much as they could for the ones who became Ritual Dementors. They dug up past records, pieced together histories, and ensured that future generations would not forgive the Ones-Who-Lost, the Forgotten Ones.

Ginny had told Harry she wished she could have met Amaryllis, Leonard, Alonsyus, Annabelle, Alexander, and all the others. She had told Harry she wished that she could thank Amaryllis personally.

“For what?” he had whispered.

“For saving you. For being there when you needed her. For everything,” she had replied.

Harry looked at Ginny. His eyes asked.

Her eyes answered.

Harry looked down at his daughter. “Amaryllis Potter.”

Amaryllis smiled again.

His connection burned inside of him. It burned brightly, filling him with warmth and intense happiness.

A knock was heard and the door opened a crack. The Healer popped her head in. “What would you like me to tell your other visitors? They are starting to fill the waiting room and they’re getting rather restless.”

Molly pulled Arthur. “We’ll go placate them for a bit longer, dears. Take as long as you like, we’ll hold them back.”

“Thanks mum,” Ginny called after as they left. She looked up at Harry. “I know I’m going to enjoy the attention and the like but I really want to savor this moment.”

Harry agreed. He settled back, one arm pulling Ginny to him and the other holding Amaryllis securely. He never felt happier, never more content. Here he was with his wife and his daughter, two people he loved intensely. It was something he never thought he would have, never thought he would make it to. If it were not for dear friends, he would not have made it here.

“Your namesake once told me she was going to ensure that I have a happy future, that I would have a long life after everything I’ve went through. She said I deserved it.”

He felt Ginny’s arms tighten around his waist. He felt tears in his eyes, his vision obscured and watery.

“I’m going to do the same for you.”

His connection throbbed deep in his being, pulsating in time with the beat of Amaryllis’ heart.

Harry bent down to kiss Ginny’s forehead. “Hey Ginny?”

“Yes?”

“I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

And he was.