Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

EPILOGUE

Well guys, I can't believe this is it! It's been such a long journey and I truly appreciate how far this fic has come. If you've stuck around for literally 600,000+ words, I can't thank you enough!

Please let me know what you think about it, I love reader feedback and your help has made this story into the shape that it is, as well it will keep me growing!

Writing IWAJAG has been an honor!

Also, if you're interested, there's an IWAJAG server! With the help of some wonderful people from TikTok (gaytoe_sxguru and xiao_lver are their usernames on that platform), you can join the community and talk about all things IWAJAG, Drarry, Harry Potter, and more! My profile has the link in the description and it's pasted as a comment here! If you have any issues, feel free to message me! :)

Hope you enjoy the epilogue :')

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September First was always a busy day for the Potter family, but this one in particular was extra special.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he checked his pocket watch, for the time, 11:02 AM, and he let his eyes linger on the dial: 8,582.

He smiled softly at the number, as he always did, and then looked up as footsteps approached.

"Potter."

McGonagall stood in front of him with a hint of a smile, but also a raised eyebrow.

He greeted her by shaking her hand and gave her his resume on a piece of parchment.

"Put that away. You already have the job," she said, taking him up the stairs to her office.

Harry blinked. "Really?"

She took a seat at her desk, and Harry took the one opposite. He remembered the countless times being in this office, talking with Dumbledore about Horcruxes and Tom Riddle. It was so dark then, and Harry's world was so dark.

But now, he felt calm and welcome under McGonagall's firm but warm stare. The walls were brighter, the air still and calm, as was Harry's life now.

"Of course. Professor Adkins has been here since Pumblechook left when you both graduated, and they have been wanting to retire for three years now."

"Thank you, Professor, but... The other candidates are all Aurors. I've only been on a few missions, and quite frankly, I hated it. I've just been running the Orphanage and—"

"Potter." She looked at him with a you've got to be kidding me expression.

But still, Harry was still nervous. "I haven't worked in the Dark Arts as a career." He licked his lips. "I don't want my name or just my hiccup with Tom Riddle to get me it." Because that's what it all was now: a hiccup. A torturous start to a much longer, more satisfying life.

Still, she held firm. The wrinkles on her face were a bit deeper, but she was still the same McGonagall as she was when they'd met so many years ago. "You're overly qualified and even if you weren't, you'd still get the job. Unless you don't want it."

"I want it," Harry said strongly. "I'd love to teach and I want to be around my family. But there are other candidates who know more than me." He regretted putting it that way because he was selling himself too short, and truly, he did want it. He just didn't want to manifest needing to use Defense Against the Dark Arts, or worse, him being apart of the beginnings of a new Tom Riddle--but those were thoughts of paranoia, not truth.

"You have compassion and a knack for teaching more than anyone I've met with for the past three years we've been look. I know you'll handle the students well."