money from it, so please Mrs. Rowling if you read this
don’t sue me. A comment or two would be welcome
though.
Please, if you read, take two minutes to review.
Chapter 21 Epilogue
After the war, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley children had returned with their mother to the site of their childhood home. The wreckage of the Burrow had been cleared. And now, on the site where the family home once stood there was a graveyard. It was home to seven markers with room for generations to come. Molly Weasley knelt in front of the stones of her husband and oldest son as she reminisced about the past and thought about the future.
The new, well it wasn’t exactly new anymore, house sat on top of the hill a short distance away. There were other houses now also. Some she could see from where she was and others were further down the path behind the hill.
Charlie and his wife, Nymphandora Tonks, lived with their four children down by the stream. They had named their house, The Preserve, in honor of the dragons that Charlie had worked with before the war.
Even though the battle that had occurred at Slytherin Castle was generally referred to as, The Final Battle, it had been far from it. Nymphandora had been severely injured during a raid on a Death Eater hideout shortly after the battle at Slytherin Castle. During her stay in the hospital she had decided she was done fighting. Soon after she was released from St. Mungoe’s, she had become pregnant with her and Charlie’s first child and Molly’s first grand child, Jamison Amber Weasley.
After the war, had truly come to an end, Charlie had gone back to his dragons. And after a year, he managed to get himself moved from the reserves in Romania to the one in north Wales. It wasn’t nearly as large, or prestigious of a reserve. But instead of only being home on weekends, it allowed him to be home every night with his wife and newborn child.
Jamison, or Jamie as everyone called her, was seventeen now. She would be starting her last year at Hogwarts in a few weeks. Upon her arrival at Hogwarts at the age of eleven, she had broken the Weasley tradition of being sorted into Gryffindor. Instead she had been placed in Ravenclaw. It had been quite a shock to everyone. But Jamie had proved the hat correct in its choice. She was brilliant, and had spent her time at school determined to improve upon the scores that her aunt Hermione had received. It had developed into quite the competition between the two. And though Hermione was jealous of her place atop the school records, she was always the first to congratulate her niece when one of her exam scores exceeded her own.
Jamison had been followed by Cole Jarred; a Gryffindor through and through. Only thirteen, and just off of his first year on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, he was the fearless leader of the youngest group of Chasers to make the team in more than two centuries; all of them would be starting their third year this fall and promised to give the team a formidable group for years to come.
Charlie and Nymphandora’s next was ten-year-old Maggie Christine, a shy, quite girl, with a sharp wit, who had a year to go before starting at Hogwarts. Her younger brother, eight-year-old Geoffrey David, was a combination of his older siblings. He possessed the best of all his older brothers and sisters, but not quite in the quantities they did.
Percy and Penelope lived in a house just off of the family property near the village of Otter St. Catchpole. They had named the house, Redemption Road, it served as a reminder, that it was never to late to say you were sorry.
Percy had left the Ministry after the war. It had reminded him too much of what his blind ambition had nearly cost him. Eventually, he had become Fred and George’s Business Manager. The twins had proved to be great at creating and selling jokes, but keeping books and figuring out how to best target their market, had not been their strong point. While Percy ran the whole of the WWW Empire from the back room of the flagship store in Diagon Alley, Penelope managed the front of the store. Along with allowing them to work together, it made it easy for Penelope to drag Percy home when it was time to call it quits for the day.
While Percy may have left the Ministry and some of his ambitions behind, he was still Percy. And everything in his life was planned out well in advance. Having children had not occurred until he had felt financially stable enough to support them. But when he and Penelope did, they had not wasted any time. There were five children now; starting with six year old Fiona Elizabeth, going to five- year-old Greta Kallan, four-year-old Gwendolyn Ann, three-year-old Percival Ignatius Jr, and last, one-year-old Henry Charles.
Penelope had left her position at WWW shortly after the birth of Gwendolyn and now, along with Molly, provided daycare services to her own children along with many of her nieces and nephews.
Fred and George had married their longtime girls Angelina and Alicia respectively. The four of them continued to work with Percy to grow the small empire that was WWW.
To say the lives of both couples were similar would be an understatement. Fred and Angelina had eleven-year-old identical triplet girls; Sarah Natasha, Shannon Nalia, and Sylvia Neve.
George and Alicia were also the parents of eleven-year-old identical triplet girls; Calista Gillian, Claudia Gabriella and Celeste Gefen. Amazingly all six shared the same birthday.
Technically, Sarah was the oldest, but she was followed by her cousin Calista. The line continued in that manner. Shannon was third, Claudia fourth, Sylvia fifth, and last was Celeste.
The six girls were inseparable. They were all sorted into Gryffindor upon arrival at Hogwarts and only at their parents instance had they not all been placed in the same dormitory. Beyond that, in what had to be one of the greatest examples ever, of poetic justice, they all delighted in being pranksters.
To the great pleasure of their aunts, uncles, and Molly herself, the girls’ favorite targets were Fred and George, followed closely by their uncle Harry. Just last week, the twins and Harry had found themselves swimming in the pond when their swimsuits had suddenly changed from baggy shorts to very skimpy bikinis.
Unfortunately for the girls, their fathers and Harry had decide to get back at them by using the pictures of the three of them in bikinis as part of the advertising for the, Gender Bender Trunks, that were now selling at WWW. The girls had thought it quite the funny joke until one of their school friends sent them one of the flyers with the ad, asking if that was indeed their father and Harry Potter prancing around in women’s swimsuits. Also, the Daily Prophet had made quite the article out of the news that, The Great Harry Potter, was a transvestite and would soon be divorcing his wife to live with his two transvestite brothers-in-law. The article had only heightened Fred, George, and Harry’s glee at the girls’ embarrassment. A new prank war was brewing between them, their fathers and Harry, and it remained to be seen who would give in first.
Ron and Hermione had moved back too. It was actually their house that Molly lived in now. It was called, The Den. A play off of their animagus forms and a subtle reminder that a house called, The Burrow, once stood on these grounds.
After the fall of Voldemort, both of them had continued to teach at Hogwarts. After only two years of teaching at the school, Dumbledore had quickly moved Hermione into the roll of head of house for Gryffindor. Five years latter, when Severus Snape had been murdered by an escaped Death Eater, he had made her his assistant Headmistress.
Now, at the tender age thirty six, with Dumbledore having passed away early in the summer, she was poised to become the youngest Headmistress in the history of the school. Along the way, she had helped pass legislation granting more rights and freedoms to Werewolves, Centaurs and House elves. She still diligently promoted S.P.E.W. but had come to realize she couldn’t force it on the elves and that it would take generations for them to accept that they did not have to be slaves.
Ron had continued to serve as a flying instructor at the school. While doing that, he had spent a few years serving as the reserve Keeper for the Chuddley Cannons. He had even moved into the starter roll for a year, before he was injured.
After spending a month in the hospital, he had decided that was more than enough time there, and retired. Now, with Hermione moving into the Headmistress position, he was going to become head of house for Gryffindor.
Perhaps of all her children, Ron and Hermione had suffered the most for their roles in the war. Ron’s role as the one to plan Harry’s victory had forced him to send his sister and wife into grave danger to save Harry. That he had been in just as much danger himself just didn’t seem to matter to him.
Dumbledore had never thought to have the battle between Harry and Voldemort occur in the prison he had developed. He had only intended to use the prison if Harry had failed to destroy the Dark Lord.
It was Ron, who had locked his best mate in that prison with no real hope of ever leaving it again. The prison would only hold Voldemort if he was too weak to escape it. If Voldemort had defeated Harry, he would never be weaker than at that point. Ron had decided to have them fight in there for that reason; sacrificing one, for the sake of many. That Harry had agreed and thought the idea was brilliant didn’t change the fact, that in Ron’s eyes he had given Harry up for dead.
On top of all that, Ron had devised the battle plan and attack on Slytherin castle. He had decided which tasks would be assigned to whom. And he held himself responsible for the deaths to the good side, including those of his father and oldest brother. There were days where he was still prone to bouts of self-loathing because of it. In fact, Ron had not played a single game of chess since finishing his battle plan.
Then there was Hermione. The injuries that she had sustained in the Ministry at the end of her fifth year had left her womb damaged. She and Ron tried for years to have children, suffering four different miscarriages. The last had nearly broken them both. The graves of their unborn children were set off to the back of the graveyard near that of Remus Lupin. Finally, when they had given up hope, they had been blessed with a perfect baby boy.
Arthur William had come into the world kicking and screaming on August 11th two years ago. He shared his birthday with Ginny, and not since she had been born, the first girl in the Weasley line in more than three centuries, had the Weasley family celebrated like that. Not when Voldemort had fallen, not when they had pulled Harry and Ginny alive from the Death Chamber and not even when Harry had finally woken from the coma the battle with Voldemort had left him in, had there been such joy shared by all members of the family. In truth, Molly doubted if either Ron or Hermione could have survived another miscarriage. But now, the boy was the light of their lives. And for anything Molly could recall neither had been as happy as they were now.
Last of Molly’s children were Harry and Ginny. They lived on the property also. Molly liked it that way. All of her family close, her grandchildren only an arms length away. Phoenix’s Perch, sat on the hill a short walk from, The Den. Not since Harry and Ginny had built the house, would they go more than three days without seeing Ron and Hermione. Molly had often looked at the pictures the DA had given both couples as wedding gifts. And she had read the speech that Cho, Luna, Neville and Bridgette had delivered many times. Sometimes, she herself wondered if the four of them were one soul split into four different bodies.
Though Harry and Ginny were here now, it had taken a few years for them to settle down. Harry had taken Dumbledore up on the offer to teach while Ginny finished school, but after that the two of them had been as near to Gypsies as you could be. They had traveled the world, never staying in one place more than a few weeks at a time.
Much to Molly’s dismay, they had tried every crazy stunt it seemed possible to do. They had jumped out of one of those flying Muggle contraptions with backpacks that opened up to slow your fall down. Parkachuting, or something like that, it was called.
Something called scruberdiving, where they went under water with masks and tanks full of air. That had not really worried her too much. It wasn’t much different than using a Bubblehead Charm or Gillyweed, Molly had thought. But that, in itself, wasn’t enough for the Harry and Ginny. They had gone in something called a shark cage. And they had feed the great beasts. There was a picture of one of the sharks that had “visited” with them on the wall in their house. It was called a Great White, Harry said. The thing was nearly eighteen feet long and nothing but teeth. Quite honestly, Molly thought it was capable of taking a chunk or two out of Harry in his animagus form, regardless of how tough a dragon’s hide was. Those were just the two most extreme examples of her two youngest children’s foolishness.
After spending a year roaming the world, Harry and Ginny had settled in a flat in downtown London for a year. They had decided at that point, to play professional quidditch, and in less than three months had been moved to the English National Team. Unfortunately for their professional careers, after only nine months on the team, Ginny became pregnant.
It had taken only one, three-week trip, during which there was an escaped Death Eater attack on his pregnant wife for Harry to hang up his broom.
The attack was one of many that had occurred on the two of them since the fall of Voldemort. It seemed that no matter how long the Dark Lord had been gone, that there was always some nut, that was convinced if they killed Harry or Ginny, or both of them, their master would return again. After the first few attacks against them, the Ministry had authorized Harry and Ginny to defend themselves in any way they saw fit. Up to the last attack, five years ago, they had shown restraint and mercy. But that attack had been against their children. Mercy had been the furthest thing from either of their minds.
Molly had taken Harry and Ginny’s twin girls Audrey Nicole and Stacy Christina to the park in Hogsmead for the day. The girls, now eight, had been three at the time. The attack should have killed all of them. And it would have, except for the two-way-mirror, Molly had used to call for help the second the first spell had been sent. Harry and Ginny had come to the rescue.
Harry had arrived seconds before Ginny. He had instantly placed Molly and the girls in a binding spell. With a simple flick of his wrist, two of the Death Eaters had been disarmed, bound and summoned to his side. He had then set a shield of some sort around himself, the girls, Molly and the two Death Eaters.
The spells of more than forty Death Eaters had flown at the six of them. They had simply been absorbed by whatever Harry’s shield spell had been. And the ring of twenty plus phoenixes that Harry had arrayed around them had swallowed the Death Curse whenever one of the Death Eaters had tried to use it.
Ginny had arrived at that point, and taken one look at Harry. He had had nodded grimly at her. He had then cast some sort of magical dome, nearly two hundred feet in diameter. The rest of the attacking Death Eaters had been trapped in it; unable to portkey, apparate, or even walk through it, in an attempt to escape.
Convinced of the safety of her children, mother and husband, Ginny’s eyes had gone cold. She had turned from her family and proceeded to mercilessly savage the rest of the attackers. Those that had been hit by her crushing spells had been reduced to piles of mush, their bones utterly disintegrated. Her stunning spells had ripped through shields and killed as surely as the death curse.
The whole battle had lasted less than three minutes. Ginny had already taken the girls home by the time the first Aurors had arrived. Harry and Molly had stayed behind to explain what had happened, and how forty-three, dead, Death Eaters came to be strewn about the park.
The two Death Eaters that had been spared lived only long enough to tell the tale at their trial. They were both escapees from Azkaban, convicted of murder. That, along with the new conviction for the attempted murder of Molly, Audrey and Christina was enough for the Ministry to send them through the veil.
Molly had been astonished at Harry and Ginny’s actions on the day of the attack. That her daughter and son-in-law had killed forty-three Death Eaters had not bothered her. They had asked for and gotten what they deserved, in her opinion. But the ease with which the two of them had done it; left her in a state of near disbelief. Neither of them had been even the slightest bit tired from the effort. Apparently, it had stunned any Death Eaters that were still alive and at large too. There had not been an attack on any of the Potters or Weasleys since that day five years ago.
It was after the birth of their oldest child, fourteen-year-old Lily Ginevra, that Harry and Ginny had finally settled down and built Phoenix’s Perch. Harry had asked for, and been granted a position alongside of Cho Longbottom, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at the school. Ginny, had helped Neville Longbottom to stretch the boundaries of herbology. The two of them ran the largest greenhouse and research facility in the world. If the plant existed, there was an example of it in one of their buildings somewhere.
Along with Lily Ginevra, Harry and Ginny had six other children. There was twelve-year-old Molly Hermione, followed by the twins, Audrey and Stacy. The twins were followed by four-year-old Courtney Renee, two-year-old Bridgette Avril and last, the only boy in the Potter line, three-month-old Eric Ronald.
Molly reached for her husband’s stone. “Do you see them Arthur?” she asked softly. At that moment an eagle’s tail feather floated down from the sky and settled on the ground softly next to her. Molly reached for the feather, picking it up. She turned her eyes to the heavens and searched the sky for the bird that had dropped the feather. The sky was brilliantly clear and empty.
She felt a breeze tickle at her neck, like her husband’s kisses had done so many years ago. A small smile came across her face and her eyes closed as she drank in the memory. A short time later, when the shouts of her grandchildren reached her ears, she stood and headed in the direction of the lake and the birthday party that was just starting.
“Soon, Arthur, it’s not my time yet, but soon I will come to you,” she whispered to the wind as she disappeared around the bend.
Author's note:
I would like to thank everyone who has read my two stories, Harry Potter and the Blood Traitor, and Harry Potter and the Unlocked Mind. The last time I totaled it up, there had been over 70,000 reads for the two stories.
I would also like to thank those who have reviewed for me. It was great to get your feedback, even if you didn't like something. Without calling out names, I don't want to offend someone by missing them, I would especially like to thank those reviewers who have been with me from the start. You know who you are, and thank you.
Last, many of you have said how much you appreciated the fact that I updated regularly. That would not have been possible with out Chris, aka, blazing_axe. The moderator who has approved all, but I think two chapters, of these two stories. Without him specifically taking responsibility for the story, it would never have gone up so fast. If you get a chance, thank him.
One other thing, for those of you who want more of my writing. I will begin posting my next story in a few days. It was written pre HBP, and takes none of that new cannon into account. It also is not based off of anyting in, Blood Traitor, or, Unlocked Mind. The story begins 9 years after the fall of Voldemort. It is an angst filled H/G story titled, Broken. You can expect the first chapter in a week or so. Other than a one shot or two, that I might write, this will be the last of my efforts in the realm of HP fan fics. I hope people like it as much as they seem to have liked my other stuff.