Chapter 24. Epilogue: Four Days Later (September 27, 1997)

And on Saturday, they rested...

Okay, forget that — this is Harry and Ginny we're talking about!

The castle was dark and chilly when they dragged themselves out of bed and groggily pulled on their workout garb. The Hungarian Horntail was still emitting soft, intermittent puffs of virtual smoke from beneath her wing. Emerald eyed them for a moment with thin incredulous slits, then drifted back to sleep.

It probably seemed unduly stoic, probably even foolhardy, to awake at such an early hour, especially considering the late September northerlies that had swept in several days ago bringing a steady supply of cold rain, but this was about the only way to get a peaceful run in without tripping over reporters.

At first Harry and Ginny had tried setting a scorching pace over rough terrain, but their intrepid trackers had discovered broomsticks. They knew disillusionment charms were a sure fire way to encourage lurid insinuations. Lacking any other inspiration, they had settled for the bracing five a.m. regimen.

Ironically, even on this earliest and dankest morning, they were still guaranteed some company. Upon opening their door into the sixth floor corridor, they were confronted with seven very stern looking students. Ryan, Jennifer, Nick, Mary-Jo, Sarah, Jack and Quinn were ready and waiting.

In spite of himself, Harry glanced up and down the line and grinned. "You lot planning to loaf around all day, or what?" he goaded. "Come on — let's find out what you're made of."

Of course the students were always up for a challenge, but that was not why they were setting out into the dark, driving drizzle today. This was to be a pilgrimage! They wanted, with their own eyes and in the company of their heroes, to experience the site of the other battle.

The hard forty minute climb was worth it! After cresting the last steep incline, everyone was surprised to discover that a cairn had already been erected on the spot where the body had fallen... where the last vestige of Riddle's soul had been released from its long Earthly torment. Harry surmised that Dobby must have taken it upon himself to construct the monument — a rather curious gesture for a house elf to have made, but then Dobby had always been a rather curious house elf.

The cairn had been crafted with meticulous care to stand resolutely against the harsh elements that battered the ridge. It was well proportioned, roughly conical, and rose to a height of just under five feet... about the stature of the average first year Hogwarts student.

How poignant.

Leading the group, Harry came to a halt at a respectful distance from the monument. His hands fell to his sides and he inhaled stiffly. The others likewise committed themselves to the moment. All motion ceased.

"Together let us dedicate this monument..." Harry spoke, his solemn voice mingling with the gentle murmur of rain, "to all those who have devoted their lives to tolerance. To everyone who stood with us on Tuesday morning in body or in spirit, we thank you. To all our forebears who did not survive to see our new dawn of hope, we are eternally humbled by your sacrifice."

After observing a moment of silence in which soft raindrops tracked slowly down thoughtful faces, Harry stirred. Eyes opened and turned toward his smile; he beckoned the group to follow as he led them up to the outcrop itself, where the nine friends gathered pensively in an elongated ellipse. He closed his eyes and opened his deeper senses to admit the world's subtle magical essence. The world reciprocated. In the absence of any urgent peril, the earth force rose up like a gentle warmth permeating through his legs and into his chest. A tiny part of him was curious whether he would ever hear the Fugos and their messages of peace and comfort again?

Not today.

Harry sighed, then returned his focus to the others. "Do any of you feel the power here?" he asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," Sarah said after a while.

"No, I don't think so," Ryan added.

Jack and Nick shook their heads. The other students simply stood in meditative silence.

Harry nodded to himself. "If any of you strive to sense magical signatures," he said, "I think that some day, somewhere, you too will find your own places of power."

The students nodded solemnly. Several of them stared off toward the mist-shrouded hills or peered at the distant spires of the castle, just now becoming visible in the half-light. Others closed their eyes, savoured the cool, moist breeze on their faces, listening to the sound of peace. Finally, nine very subdued young people turned to make their way back down to the castle.

After Monday's and Tuesday's gripping excitement, and compared to the frenetic lives that Harry and Ginny had led since early August, the days immediately following the battle had seemed quite manageable... but the activity had nonetheless been relentless. Castle repairs had taken place. A formal inquiry had been held to verify, sine corpore, the passing of Albus Dumbledore and establish the circumstances of death. DMLE investigators had spent ten or more hours per day conducting detailed interviews with the HA and Order members to characterize enemy tactics and spell preferences, and to try to identify Death Eater combatants who had eluded capture. Harry had presided over numerous meetings with Aurors to lay the foundations for student analytics and diagnostics projects. Gawain Robards had required several hours of their time each day to discuss Auror training and communications strategies. There were visiting dignitaries to meet, and requisite appearances at events such as the modest Thursday funeral for Severus Snape, and the more lavish Dumbledore memorial on Friday. Through it all, the Daily Prophet, La Maison Magique and numerous other major wizarding papers fought to monopolize Harry's and Ginny's every spare moment... and then some. And of course Xenophilius Lovegood and his troop of eccentric newshounds were also buzzing about Hogwarts, researching human interest stories and uncovering aspects of the conflict that they deemed to have been overlooked by less enlightened publications. Harry and Ginny had given the Quibbler a long interview, but even so not all of the coverage was quite as they might have hoped. A Quibbler exposé on rogue Heliopaths blasting Death Eaters off the Hogwarts front steps had produced howling laughter throughout the castle. Intrepid and undaunted, Luna had furtively pulled out quill and parchment to jot down notes for a sequel article, featuring disturbing evidence of a nefarious coverup.

In short, things had been nutty. But today was different. Saturday could hardly be considered a day of rest, but it did promise a different tenor. Article six of the first internal memo circulated by incoming Minister of Magic Amelia Bones had proclaimed:

VI. Give them a break!

Between the hours of 9:00 p.m. Friday, Sept. 26 and 8:00 a.m. Monday, Sept. 29, all Ministry employees and contractors are hereby requested to abstain from summoning, contacting or in any way pestering Mr. Harry James Potter or Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley without expressed invitation by said individuals.

Mr. Harry James Potter found himself amused by the new Minister's style. Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley found herself dreaming up ways the memo could be used to torment a new Ministry employee: DMLE Communications Team lead, Mr. Percy Ignatius Weasley.

The Fifth Estate, of course, did not abide by Ministry memos. Harry and Ginny had been exceptionally accommodating to journalists all week, but it seemed about time to take a break from them too. This was especially true since the one subject on which the press most fervently wanted answers was the one topic on which official comment was strictly forbidden.

"Names, Mr. Potter. We want names!"

Drenched from their run, Harry, Ginny and the seven students waved casually to the cluster of reporters waiting for them in the Entrance Hall. Harry smiled and pointed mutely to his tightly sealed lips.

"How many people are on the list, Mr. Potter? Surely you can comment on that!"

"Mr. Potter, is it true that nearly half of the people on the list are your own personal friends?"

It was all in vain, of course; the pepper mill of questions went completely unrequited, and the press were gradually realizing that they had worn out their welcome. Ginny had invited friends over for breakfast that morning in the interhouse commons; for some reason those reporters who sought to crash the intimate party got lost on their way up to sixth floor and instead found themselves gathered at the top of the Astronomy Tower talking aimlessly amongst themselves about the weather, bad firewhisky experiences, and confundus charms. Later that morning, two curious journalists who showed up for a rainy and thinly attended interhouse Quidditch scrimmage were told to put away their quills, grab brooms and serve as the two opposing keepers. After several mid-game attempts to ask questions about the list resulted in ignominious scores, the reporters shelved their original plans and instead composed a sketch piece on the grass roots Quidditch movement at Hogwarts.

So what exactly was this list of such compelling interest? Well it wasn't about the battle. By Friday, recapitulations, analysis and interviews of combat participants had fallen to page eight in the Evening Prophet. Moderate interest remained in the search for fugitive Death Eaters and debates on whether the Floo-network ban had been an elaborate hoax, but the topic that was truly piquing press speculation was the Order of Merlin banquet, now tentatively scheduled for October 11 in Hogsmeade. The official list of nominees was a closely guarded secret, but word had somehow escaped that it had been drafted and documented jointly by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minerva McGonagall and Harry Potter. To close the veil of Wizengamot-mandated secrecy, Harry had recommended that all nominees, adjudicators and banquet organizers be required to sign a magical nondisclosure contract.

Unfortunately, although the contract held tongues in check, the press saga continued. After the Quidditch scrimmage, Ginny was cooling down and doing her stretching exercises when an uncharacteristically serious looking girl limped over to her.

"Daphne!" Ginny exclaimed. "Wonderful to see you on your feet again! We missed you at breakfast this morning."

"Have to talk!" Daphne mouthed silently and gestured furtively toward the stands. She caught Harry's eye and beckoned him over as well.

In the dim light below the west stands, they found a section of the old stone foundation where the drips were at a minimum and each found dry places to sit. Harry and Ginny both cast overlapping Muffliato and silencing spells, then Harry smiled and turned to the Slytherin. "What's up, Daffs?" he asked.

"Reporters!" Daphne informed them. "They've found a way around your wall of silence."

"Do tell?" Harry asked.

"They're staking out all of the tailors and robe-makers!" she hissed. "I just got back from a private fitting this morning at Twilfitt and Tattings — they swarmed me the instant I left the shop. Now they know that I'm going to the banquet, and at least one of them has become acquainted with my signature hex."

"Ignem intra folliculus?" Harry asked nervously.

Daphne exhaled... then grinned wickedly. "I may look like a sweet little girlie," she told them, "but don't ambush me!"

Wide-eyed, Harry shook his head and shivered. Ginny, however, took no notice; she had slumped somewhat and was kicking distractedly at a loose stone. "That's it Harry," she said resignedly. "I appreciated your offer, but I'm not going to go buy new ball robes if it means setting off a shark feeding frenzy. I'll wear my robes from last Yule Ball."

Harry caught Ginny's hand and squeezed it. "However much I pine to see you in your Yule robes again," he began with a husky note in his voice, "I still think the occasion warrants something new, Mademoiselle Order of Merlin First Class."

"But Harry, you're as sick of the press as I am..."

"Yes," he replied with a grin, "and thus I have a plan."

"The gown is going to be spectacular, Ginny!" Jessica gushed. "I wish our college had fancy balls like your school does — I so love to dress up!"

Ginny smiled shyly. "Thank you Jessica," she said, gazing at the floor.

"You say you have a drop box for deliveries?" Jessica inquired with a puzzled frown. "SHP, Ltd., Grimmauld Place, Islington, N1 OBZ?"

"Yes, thank you!" Harry replied. "They will forward the package to us."

Jessica shrugged and smiled. "Would you like the household item shipped with everything else, or should it be separate?" she asked.

"Separate please — we'll be needing it tonight," Ginny replied. "Would it be a problem to have it gift wrapped?"

"Absolutely no problem!" Jessica responded enthusiastically as she finished entering the purchases into the till. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "With the commission from this sale, lunch should be on me!"

Harry grinned, but shook his head firmly.

Jessica assembled the packages, puttered away the last few minutes of her shift, and then returned to lead them back out into the streets to find a nice café. "So you weren't able to make it back to visit before school started, but suddenly you appear here in late September?" she mused curiously.

Ginny laughed. "Things got a bit... unconventional."

Harry nodded. "We were both nominated to take some advance placement tests before school, so we spent all of August with our noses buried in books. Then we were barely into our fourth week of classes when there was an incident at school."

"Fire damage in the cafeteria and reception hall," Ginny clarified. "Fortunately nothing catastrophic, but they decided to close everything down for a few days to expedite repairs."

"Wow!" Jessica exclaimed. "You've had a wild couple of months, then!" she said, as they took a table in the outdoor seating area of a small bistro off Leicester Square.

Harry and Ginny nodded agreeably.

"But I don't think you've told me the most important bit of news yet..." Jessica said with a glowing smile as she pointed toward Ginny's left hand. Daphne's charm had achieved a spotless record through every throng of reporters, admirers and friends all week... but today's spirited lunchtime conversation was about to get even livelier.

Furious red splotches spread across Percy's face. "Oh, please!! Can't our family act maturely... just this once?!" he whined plaintively, as he twisted and struggled to gather his trousers, the waistline of which had sagged more than eight sizes at the precise moment he had risen to leave the supper table. "I will not be provoked!" he seethed, blazing eyes fixed on his sweet, demure and very scandalized sister.

"Oooh Percy!" George cooed. "We are in eternal awe of your rippling, sinewy..."

"I have twelve witnesses to attest that, in the face of this outrage, I have not retaliated," Percy ranted as the fabric drooped ever further down his legs. "I did not summon, contact or in any way pester any individuals named on any interdepartmental memos. Moreover, I shall simply turn the other cheek and..."

Fred, George and Ginny collapsed into weeping, gnashing, hysterics.

Continuing to frantically spool the ever-expanding garment, Percy shot a scorching glare at the ceiling. "Somebody who shall remain nameless is going to be very sorry by 8:05 Monday morning!" he vowed, before turning to stumble out of the room, dragging a prodigious train of excess cloth behind him. "All witnesses please note that I am unilaterally retreating to the safety of our sitting room."

"Do partially veiled threats constitute 'pestering'?" Ginny asked Bill, as she mopped her eyes with her jumper.

"Ginny..." Molly scolded, assembling her best 'Molly' face.

"Eeiiiaarrgghhh!!!!" came the blood-curdling howl of anguish from the sitting room.

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth. "That would be the seam-splitting jinx..."

Fred nodded appreciatively. "The classic one-two punch! Well done, little sister!"

"We taught her well, brother dear!" George concluded with a grin.

"I'm aware that he sacked Harry, but you people are simply horrible! I'm going in there to help the poor dear," Angelina exclaimed as she made her way from the table. With a bemused twinkle, Fleur rose to follow.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Molly said sternly, "Kitchen patrol for you, young lady!"

Ginny smiled as a sudden stampede of bodies scurried out of the kitchen. "That's fine, Mum," she said cheerfully. "Harry and I were about to volunteer anyway!"

Within a minute, Harry was whistling as he levitated the many dishes, glasses and articles of cutlery, forming lines of hovering dinnerware ready for immersion. Ginny found herself humming "Love Charms in the Snow" while she directed everything into the fluffy white suds. Oblivious to Molly's watchful eye, Harry swooped in to whisk aside Ginny's ponytail and plant a sensuous, lingering kiss on the back of her neck... before returning his attention to the drying spells. He synchronized his whistling to her chosen tune, and the collaboration actually began to sound passably musical. As the last plate, scrubbed, rinsed and dry, landed gracefully on a stack in the high cupboard, the two teens whipped around to face Molly, closing with...

"... but all I can ever give to you... are love charms in the snow!!"

"Plus this!" Ginny announced, producing an elegantly wrapped package from somewhere beneath her apron.

"What on Earth...??" Molly exclaimed.

"Open first; questions later!" Ginny demanded.

When Molly lifted the lid of box she gasped. One dozen finely embroidered, shot-silk taffeta... place mats! She laughed out loud as her eyes drifted to the seat at the table from which, only four weeks ago, Ginny had made her thunderous exit. "Oh my oh my oh my..." Molly marveled as she sank wearily, smiling, into her chair. "It's been an incredible month, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, I think we could say that," Ginny agreed as she took a seat immediately to her mother's right, unconsciously taking her hand.

And that is when Molly finally noticed! Her breath caught and she stared first at their clasped hands, and then into her daughter's eyes.

"Er, yes? May I help you?" Ginny inquired, her lips spreading into a mischievous smile.

Molly raised Ginny's hand so that the lamplight danced among the various gems of the ring. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well, now that you mention it," Ginny replied, now grinning expansively, "yes, it certainly is what you think it is."

"What? How...?" Molly stumbled, then fell silent.

Harry placed three steaming coffee mugs on the table and took a seat facing Molly. "I'm sure you realize that this was not a snap decision," he assured her. "Things have been moving steadily in this direction for quite a while, but both Ginny and I wanted to wait until after we got past our little problem..."

"Known by some people as Voldemort," Ginny quipped, ignoring her mother's flinch.

"Er, yes," Harry continued, "that little problem. To be blunt about it, I thought it would be disingenuous to promise my future to someone when I wasn't sure if I actually had a future..." Harry noticed Molly blanching somewhat, so he reached out and and added his hand to theirs. The Weasley matron's pulse slowed almost immediately; Harry caught her eye reassuringly and resumed. "Now I can finally see a path ahead; everything in that path looks so bright and beautiful... simply because at every step along the way I see your daughter."

Molly smiled moistly, her breath quivered and she dabbed at her eyes. Silence hung in the air for a minute as Molly alternated an appraising gaze between the two of them, searching for safe words to convey an indelicate question. Finally she settled on, "I wonder, umm... is there any pressing time frame we need to be planning for?"

Ginny burst out laughing. "No Mum! Harry and I are not about to give you any cute little red-haired, green-eyed grandchildren to chase around any time soon! We have been outrageously... well behaved... so far."

Molly laughed in relief.

"We did have compelling reasons for wanting to move ahead with a formal betrothal," Harry explained, "and we're both deeply and permanently committed to each other. But we're actually not in any rush to make the next big move."

"No," Ginny agreed. "We haven't given even the simplest thought to time frame yet. So no need to bake a wedding cake any time soon."

"Not our wedding cake, anyway," Harry interjected with a grin. "I won't comment on Bill's relationship trajectory!"

Molly laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Anyway Mum," Harry continued. "Ginny's not of age yet, so that pushes the date back. We also need a fair bit more time to figure out what we'd like to do with our careers. I haven't decided whether or not I'll cave to Ministry pressure or stick with Hogwarts. Ginny was already balancing Hogwarts versus Holyhead, and now — I don't know why we didn't see this coming — now Kingsley is recruiting Ginny as well..."

"More fundamentally," Ginny added, "I think we should spend a bit of time trying to rediscover how to live life without a constant threat in the air. I've even had the crazy notion that Harry and I might occasionally pretend to be teenagers."

"If we do, I promise you we won't go looking for creative new ways to get under your skin," Harry pledged with a wink as he rose and walked around to their side of the table, extending his hands to them.

"Of course not!" Ginny assured her as she accepted Harry's hand and rose to stand with him. "No point inventing anew when there are already hundreds of well established parent-baiting techniques," she deadpanned, before sliding into an evil grin.

Molly rose and pulled them into an embrace. It didn't break any bones or tear cartilage. It certainly didn't feel tepid either. It was just right, and nobody seemed to be in a great hurry for it to end.

After a while, however, Harry felt the need to extricate himself carefully from the huddle. "My apologies, m'ladies, but I wanted to follow up with Arthur about the restructuring goals that Minister Bones outlined last night at the Wizengamot... and I am also still due for a long discourse from Percy about his new job." He smiled to his two favorite witches. "Maybe I'll step out so that you can have a mother-daughter chat?"

Ginny winced theatrically, but Molly just laughed. "You are excused to go talk business for the moment, Harry James Potter," she instructed threateningly. "but rest assured that I haven't finished with you yet!"

Harry chuckled and made his way into the boisterous living room.

"Well Mum?" Ginny queried.

"Well sweetie..." Molly began, before pausing to study her daughter carefully. "There are so many important life lessons that I should dutifully impart..." She sighed distractedly, listening to the merriment scale to raucous new heights in the other room. "And I dare say someone could write a long novel covering all the exciting things I'm dying for you to tell me about. But when it all comes down to it, this is the first time in ages we've had the whole family together under one roof; everyone seems to be in such a fine mood, and Harry and the twins bought enough butterbeer to float the whole Burrow..." Molly grinned at Ginny, her eyes sparkling merrily. "So what do you say we both walk through that door and find out what in Merlin's name Hermione, Fleur and Angelina are laughing so hard about!"