The Boy Who Lived Next Door

Epilogue

Nineteen Years Later
June 30th, 2017

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked as she took his hand.

“Of course,” he replied, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You never were fond of him.” She explained. “Why do you want to go see him now?”

“Its just time.” He murmured.

Harry knew that was not the reason. He had not been back to the house since that night. He had not touched her diary or that memory since that night. Harry did not speak of her.

But Harry thought of her. He thought of how she looked at dusk on the swing set where they spent many memories. He thought of her laugh and how she used to smile at him. Then the memories would change. He would think of her telling him goodbye. He would think of her screams as Bellatrix tortured her for information that he had been foolish enough to withhold from her.

But he knew now. He understood how stupid he was. He should’ve been honest with her from the start. He should’ve told her everything about himself. But now it was too late. Now she was gone. He wasn’t the one who pointed his wand at her. But he was the reason she was dead.

“Harry? Are you alright?” He looked to his wife. He loved Ginny. He loved her and he loved the children she had given him. But a part of his heart would always belong to the brown haired girl next door.

“I’m fine.” He smiled at Ginny before putting his arm around her waist and hugging her close.

Together, along with James, Albus, and Lily, they walked up to the door and knocked.


- x -

Nineteen years ago, I woke up in a hospital. The white walls and gleaming floors were blinding. I looked around the room and saw a boy asleep in the chair by my bed.

I was confused. I didn’t know why I was there. I didn’t know who that boy was. I didn’t know who I was.

They said I had been in an accident and that I probably wouldn’t remember the trauma. They, these people in their shiny white coats, said that the furnace in my home had blown while I was inside. Apparently I hit my head and was found among the wreckage of my room, unconscious. They told me I had been in a coma for four months.

They told me the boy barely left my side.

Months passed as I recovered and was let out of the hospital. But I still didn’t remember everything. Shawn, the boy who’d stayed by my side, helped me remember. And I did. I remembered everything about the time we’d spent together before the accident.

Shawn proposed to me a few years later and I’d accepted. We’ve been married for sixteen years.

Every now and then, I’d remember. I’d see a short clip, a glance into the past Shawn couldn’t help me remember. Most, if not all, of my childhood was a blank to me.

I was happy with Shawn. But some days, I felt like something was missing, something that was almost in my grasp, but just out of my reach.

Together, that summer afternoon, we were walking home from the park hand in hand. Once we remained home, Shawn went inside, while I remained outside on our lawn.

The front door of my neighbor’s house opened and out ran three children, two black haired boys and one red haired girl. Following them was a woman, whose red hair shone brightly as she watched the three children run around on the lawn.

My eyes travelled next to my neighbor, Dudley. The pudgy man was talking with a taller man. This man hair was jet black and messy, as if he had just rolled out of bed.

The man turned away from Dudley and turned to look at my house. His eyes, green like emeralds, swept my home with a peculiar look upon his face.

After the accident, my parents had the house rebuilt exactly the way it had looked before. After Shawn and I got married, my aunt got sick. So my parents moved to London to care for her, leaving Shawn and I the house.

I met the man’s eyes.

The boy shook my hand. "I'm Harry. Nice to meet you, Elle.”

I smiled at him. "Elle…I like it."

He grinned back and pushed his round-rimmed glasses further up on his nose.


The man seemed familiar to me, as I’d seen him before.

"Elle," he muttered, "Go home." He shiftily glanced at the darkness surrounding us.

"Harry-"

"Go home, Isabelle." He said darkly.

I looked away from him. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was not going to cry.


I put a hand to my head as I continued to stare at this man. Who was he?

"No." He interrupted adamantly. "No. I will never forget you. No matter where I move to or where I go I will not forget you. I'd think you would forget me more easily than I ever could. I mean…you go to school nearby and so do all your friends and I am not the easiest person to contact when I'm at school. I would think-"

"Well then maybe you shouldn't think," I joked. "Because I doubt that I could ever forget you. I don't want to." I whispered.


But I had forgotten him. I know I did. I know I used to know him. I just can’t place it.

"What happened?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing." He shrugged.

"Harry, come on-"

"Nothing happened!" He yelled at me as he forcefully stood up from the swing, sending it slamming into one of the metal poles holding up the swing set. "Nothing happened!" He repeated.

"Why are you lying to me Harry?" I asked quietly, as I stayed on my swing. "I don't understand why you don't trust me."

He sighed and messed up his hair absentmindedly. "Its not that I don't trust you-"

"Then why don't you tell me what's wrong?"


Was he that boy I kept dreaming about? The skinny boy with emerald eyes that saw right through me?

“He’s back. He’s back. He’s back.” Harry kept repeating. “No one is safe now. He’s going to kill everyone. And I have to stop him.”

“Harry, you’re just a kid!”

“I know that!” He yelled, shoving himself. “I know I’m a kid and I know its impossible but I have to! Voldemort killed my parents, Elle! And he’s the reason my godfather is dead! I have no family! I have to stop him because he chose me! People create their own enemies and that’s what he did! If he had chosen to kill Neville’s parents instead of mine, Neville would be in my place! But he didn’t. Voldemort gave me this task when he murdered my parents! I have to destroy him or else…or else everyone is screwed.”

“Harry-”

“Elle…he’s back and I can’t keep everyone safe.”


I dreamed about him at night. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know why he kept coming back, night after night. I didn’t know why he wouldn’t go away.

“I’m worried about you,” I whispered one night, as we found ourselves at the playground, yet again.

“I'm more worried about you."

"What?" I asked incredulously as we sat up. "Why are you worried about me? You're the one with a psycho murderer/mob boss after you! Not me!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, but you're friends with me. He could know…he could…he could hurt you to get to me,” Harry replied as he refused to look at me.

"I can protect myself Harry." I insisted.

"No you can't!" Harry yelled, standing up. "He could kill you in an instant, before you even know what happened. If he ever finds out about you, he could torture you until you lose your mind!”

“Harry-”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered harshly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Harry, stop apologizing.”

“Why don’t you understand? I am not safe. I am not a good friend. Every moment that you’ve spent with me, I’m just putting you in more danger…when he finds out about you-”“You don’t need to worry about me!”

“Someone has to!” Harry yelled, turning to face me. “Elle, you’re the closest thing I have to family. I’ve known you longer than anyone of my school friends. I told you things I haven’t told them. They know what they’re up against. But you…I can’t lose you because of this. I can’t let him find you.”


My heart ached for the boy I couldn’t remember. I wanted to, desperately.

“You don’t have to protect me.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “Whether or not I understand, you’ve leaving either way. It doesn’t matter if I understand or if Voldemort knows about me. You’re leaving Harry. Nothing’s changing that. So just say goodbye already.”

“Elle, please. I’ll come back.”

“No, you won’t. If you lose, you’ll be dead and then well…you for sure can’t come back here. And if you win…there’s nothing here for you.”

“Elle-”“Who knows how long it will be. Who knows if I’ll still be here. Who knows if I’ll remember you at all. Maybe I’ll just remember you as the boy who lived next door to me. Nothing more. Though I guess that’s all we’ve ever been. Just neighbors.”

“Elle,” his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was deep in thought. “I hurt you.” He said it, as if it was the biggest newsflash.

“No, Harry,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from cracking, “For you to hurt me, I’d have to care about you.”


“Daddy!” The little girl ran over to the man and grabbed his legs. With a smile on his face, he picked up the girl and held her close. She looked just like her mother.

I knew. I knew that that man was the boy who lived next door. He was who I couldn’t remember. He was person who filled the hole in my heart. But I could see that the red hair woman held his heart, regardless whatever had once happened with us.

“Belle!” I turned back to toward my home. Shawn stood in the doorway with a smile on his face while he held the hand of our little boy.

“Hi mommy.” My son giggled as he waved to me.

“Hi Harry.” I smiled back at him.

I turned my back on the boy who I used to know and went inside my house.

I knew that whatever I had with that man in my youth was over. It had ended with my accident, maybe even before that.

As I watched my husband play a game with his son, my hand went absently to clutch the key on the silver chain around my neck.

That summer day, I left the boy I used to love in my memories.

- x -

He promised her that he would return to Privet Drive. And he did. For her. Not to see Dudley, not because ‘it was time.’ But because he promised her.

He thought she was dead. He didn’t know she was alive.

But there she was, standing on the very lawn that he’d met her on all those summers ago.

“Oh, you remember Isabelle right?” Dudley asked stupidly, grabbing Harry’s attention away from her.

“She hates that name.” He mumbled, but Dudley did not hear.

“Well, about twenty years ago, her house exploded.” Dudley said conversationally. “She was in a coma for four months and when she finally woke up, she didn’t remember anything.”

“What?” Harry said quickly, snapping his eyes to Dudley as he tried desperately to hide how much he wanted to know.

“She lost her memory in the accident,” Dudley said with a shrug. “She barely remembers anything from before the accident. It took Shawn forever to get her to remember him.”

“Shawn?” He asked quietly as he stared back at the girl. The name rattled his memory and his heart.

Shawn.
The boy who’d fallen in love with his Elle.

She returned the stare, as if she remembered him.

“Her husband.”

But she wasn’t his Elle anymore. He knew it. She’d forgotten every memory they’d had together. He didn’t exist in her mind. He knew she’d changed.

Maybe she was better off not remembering him. Maybe she was better off without him.

“Daddy!” Lily ran up to him and he gladly picked her up. She looked just like her mother.

“Belle.” Harry’s head turned toward her house again to see Elle walking toward the front door, toward Shawn and a little boy.

Harry’s stomach twisted painfully as the boy called hello to his mother.

As the front door closed on the first girl he loved, he knew it was for the best. He knew that they had had a chance when they were young. But things had changed and they were both in love with someone else now.

They could only be together in their memories.