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SIYE Time:10:23 on 29th March 2024
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A Proper Epilogue
By TomBombadil

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: Death, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 188
Summary: Harry has just defeated Voldemort and everyone in the Wizarding World wants a piece of him, but there is only one witch with whom he wants to speak. How exactly can he hope that she still wants to see him?
Hitcount: Story Total: 74189; Chapter Total: 3526







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CHAPTER 16 — SOME STUPID NOBLE REASON

“Why are you so upset?” Molly asked, tears welling in her own eyes. “It’s a difficult way to start your marriage, but you and Harry have endured worse already — a year apart, not even knowing if he’d survive.”

“It’s more than that, Mum. Didn’t Healer Smethwyck tell you?”

“He said he needed to talk to Harry, but the rest of us were only told that you were going to be fine.”

“Oh, Mum …” Ginny said, her voice trailing off into nothingness.

“What, dear?” Molly asked gently. “I’ve never seen you this … this … cut up.”

Ginny sat up on the edge of her bed while turning her gaze downward toward her pillow, unable to find the right words to convey her feelings. She certainly did not want to paint the impression that she was embarrassed or unhappy about being pregnant in the first place, as her emotions were centered primarily upon the loss of their baby — that, along with the abject terror that she might never again be able to conceive, that she might not be able to give Harry the family he had been denied since he was a toddler.

“Mum, I don’t … don’t know … how you’re going to take this, but after Harry asked me to marry him … well …”

Ginny watched as the color washed completely from her mother’s face.

“Are you pregnant?” Molly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I was.”

Ginny wondered if she looked as helpless as she felt, unable to find more words, unable to express all that was tearing simultaneously at her soul. As tears cascaded freely down her cheeks, she continued to stare silently at her pillow, wondering what on earth she could say.

“Oh, baby,” said Molly softly as she pulled her daughter close.

Ginny felt her mother’s protective embrace followed by a barely perceptible shudder. At last, she looked up, expecting to see the bright brown eyes she had inherited, only to find them bloodshot and brimming with tears. With that sight, the dam broke in full as Ginny could no longer hold back the deluge of emotions she had been suppressing since the first moment she had known her baby was lost forever. At last, she felt her mother’s controlled shudders give way to wracking sobs.


“What a sight we must make,” Ginny thought silently. “Two Weasley women … no, two Prewetts … known for our strength … broken down and crying like a couple of little girls.”

As if reading Ginny’s thoughts, Molly looked tenderly at her daughter. “It’s okay to let it out, dear.”




“So Ron was right,” said Harry with a dejected huff, his eyes darting back and forth between Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall.

Of all the things Kingsley had expected to hear from the young hero of the wizarding world, this hadn’t even crossed his mind. He looked momentarily at the Hogwarts Headmistress, who silently nodded back in the direction of Harry.

“What?” asked Kingsley.

“Ron. He was right,” Harry replied. “He basically told me that I was a gormless berk for explaining the secrets concerning mastery of the Elder Wand in front of everyone in the Great Hall. In fact, he even pointed out that the Malfoys were the last people on Earth who should have ever learned about the wand.”

“Young Mr. Weasley said that?” asked McGonagall.

“Yes, it was practically the first thing he said to me after we left the Great Hall.”

“What else did he say?” asked Kingsley, carefully pondering the situation.

“He basically told me I’d probably bought a lifetime of trouble rather than ending one.”

“I’m afraid he may be right,” replied Kingsley. “At least he has a very good chance of proving to be correct if we don’t take the proper action soon.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“Look, Harry,” said Kingsley cautiously, “I honestly don’t know if Draco Malfoy would have had the courage to take down his father alone. He’s a weak, rather pathetic coward of a person, and I don’t fully believe his explanation. Even when interrogated under the influence of Veritaserum, he appears at best to have had doubts and concerns about his father’s plan. There is no definitive proof that he meant to stop his father, and his defense revolves primarily around the fact that he screamed the word ‘no’ at Lucius upon his appearance on the roof. Unfortunately, there is also no definitive proof that he meant to go along with the plot.

What we do know unequivocally is that, without the intervention of Pansy Parkinson, the plot to kill you might have been carried out successfully. We’re quite confident that she meant to stop Lucius from killing you, even if she didn’t mean for him to die in the process.”

“I understand that, but what does it have to do with taking the proper action right away?”

“Ever since we debriefed both Pansy and Draco, young Mr. Malfoy has been doing everything he can to cooperate with our investigation. I think he is taking a page from his father’s successful rulebook for avoiding prosecution after the first Voldemort war. He is trying to become indispensible to our efforts to protect you moving forward. He has even been successful in convincing his mother to help, as well.”

“His mother?”

“Yes, his mother,” answered Kingsley. “At Draco’s prompting, Narcissa opened up their home, including all of her husband’s private documents.”

“And?” asked Harry.

Kingsley felt slightly ill at ease, hating the idea of telling the young man who had offered everything for the benefit of the wizarding world that his work was not quite done. In fact, Shacklebolt knew that Harry’s work was far, far from being complete. He shuffled on his feet, not quite knowing what to say or how to say it. Relief washed over him when Minerva cleared her throat.

“It’s like this, Harry,” she said in her normal matter-of fact tone of voice. “Kingsley tells us that Lucius Malfoy’s list of followers wasn’t limited to Malcolm Parkinson.”

“Not by a long shot,” said the Minister of Magic, thankful that his friend and fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix had broached the subject. “Narcissa gave us a list of approximately thirty witches and wizards who seem to be more that willing to pick up where Voldemort left off.”

“What?” gasped Harry, dumbstruck.

“The majority of these people reside outside of Britain, though a few are still living here.”

“So that’s why Malfoy and Parkinson were headed for Romania?

“Exactly,” said the Minister.

“Have you been able to capture them yet?” asked Harry.

“No,” answered Kingsley. “We’re very short-staffed right now, as you already know. We’ve added a few new people, but we lost so many Aurors — Moody, Tonks …”

“Enough!” cried Harry, his voice nearly a shout. “I’ll do it, as long as it’s okay with Professor McGonagall.”

“Of course it is,” answered the Headmistress. “Kingsley and I have already talked it over.”

“But what will Ginny and I do? She wants to finish her seventh year, and we were planning on living at Hogwarts.”

“And so you shall,” McGonagall answered firmly. “Kingsley has kindly agreed that I can call on you for guest lectures and hands-on training, so you’ll still be part of the faculty. You and Ginny will be able to move ahead as planned.”

“Not quite as we planned,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“And you’ll be doing the right thing,” added Shacklebolt, warmly wrapping one arm around Harry’s shoulder as his heart filled with pride. All the things Albus Dumbledore had told him about the purity of Harry’s soul snapped suddenly into place. “I know it seems like a lot to ask, especially now, but we really need you to help us finish this mess before it starts to grow a new life of its own.”

“There’s one condition,” Harry added flatly.

“What’s that?” inquired Kingsley, worried that things might not have fallen into place as easily as it had seemed.

“I promised Ginny that I’d never again make a big decision without discussing it with her. I’ll do this only if she agrees.”

“Of course,” answered Kingsley, as wave of relief swept through his body. He hated to admit just how desperately the Ministry needed the help of this young wizard.



Ginny’s hands were shaking frantically as she clawed at the rings adorning her left hand. She couldn’t stop long enough to explain things to her mother. In fact, she wondered whether or not an explanation was even possible. Things had gone terribly wrong, and the thought of being Mrs. Harry Potter was simply too overwhelming for words. At last, the rings came free, allowing Ginny to place them unsteadily on her bedside table. The wedding band nearly rolled off the surface before she could stop its progress, bringing the matched set to an uneasy rest.

“What are you doing?” asked Molly, the sense of urgency in her voice registering firmly upon Ginny’s consciousness.

“I can’t, Mum,” Ginny managed to gasp as her hands began fumbling with the clasp of Lily Potter’s ruby and diamond pendant.

“You can’t … you can’t … what?” asked Molly as she raised her arms to embrace her daughter’s shoulders.

Ginny twisted free; driven by a sense of urgency she could barely comprehend as she managed to open the clasp of the necklace. A short moment later, the pendant clattered onto the tabletop, joining Lily’s rings in a disorganized array.

“Ginny!” screeched Molly as she finally managed to capture her daughter’s hands between her own. “Stop it! Stop it this instant!”

Ginny’s eyes sought out her mother’s as tears began once again to cascade down her face in rivulets. She struggled to free her hands, but her mother’s grip only strengthened.

“You stop it, Mum!” Ginny cried plaintively. “I need you to help me!”

“And that’s exactly what I intend to do young lady.” Molly’s tone was surprisingly harsh.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Ginny added frantically.

“I am, dear,” came her mother’s voice, this time more reassuringly. “But I don’t understand why we’re talking about sides. What in heaven’s name are you getting at?”

“Oh, Mum!” cried Ginny with a growing sense of anxiety. “What if I can’t have children?”

“What are you talking about, Ginny? You just told me you were pregnant.”

“Healer Smethwyck told me there’s always some damage from a miscarriage … and there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to conceive again.” The words tore at Ginny’s heart as dramatically they burst from her lips, giving voice to the fear that was quickly becoming a near-hysterical obsession. “What if I can’t give Harry a family? It’s what he’s wanted more than anything for his entire life.”

Molly Weasley’s heart felt as if it had been ripped from her chest as she watched her precious daughter overcome with agony. How many other women in this situation, she wondered, could be so selflessly concerned about their husbands rather than themselves? But Ginny had always been unique.

“Try to calm down, dear,” Molly whispered. She could hear the sense of desperation in her own voice, but it didn’t matter.

“I can’t,” answered Ginny.

Molly felt the trembling beginning again to gain control over her daughter’s extremities.

“You must, dear,” she whispered, pulling her daughter close.

“I … I know,” stammered Ginny.

“It’s okay to cry, dear,” Molly continued, her voice still nothing more than a whisper now that her lips were pressed against Ginny’s ear.




Pansy paced relentlessly back and forth across the kitchen floor of her parents’ mansion, listening to her mother’s derisive stream of consciousness.

“What were you thinking, turning on your father like that?” said Diana Parkinson.

“I didn’t turn on Father,” said Pansy. “I simply tried to stop Mr. Malfoy from killing Potter.”

“It’s one and the same thing!”

“Like hell it is!” Pansy replied, the volume of her voice rising to match that of her mother’s. “Dad thought the plan was nutters and told me to get out of there if things went wrong.”

“There’s a huge difference between getting away from The Burrow and killing Lucius Malfoy!”

“I told you I didn’t mean to kill him, Mother! I was only trying to sever his wand when Draco buggered everything up.”

“Sever his wand? With Sectumsempra? When did you go mental, Pansy?”

“I’m not the one who was mental!” Pansy answered defensively. “The plan was mental from the very beginning. Worse yet, it was wrong!”

“Wrong?” gasped Diana.

“Yes, it was wrong, and it was stupid, too. Stupid to make such an obvious play for the Elder Wand and wrong to kill a woman’s husband on their wedding day.”

“Stupid? It sounds to me as if everything was going perfectly until you mucked it up. Now your father will be on the run until they catch him and throw him in Azkaban, and we’ll be out on the street instead of living here in this home Malcolm has always provided for us.”

“I won’t tell you again, Mother, so listen carefully. I didn’t mean for Mr. Malfoy to die. I was only trying to stop him from killing Potter. If Draco hadn’t blundered into things, we could have all Apparated away from there and no one would have been any the wiser.”

“Damn it, Pansy! Your plan failed, and then you told the Ministry about your father’s involvement.”

“I did not!” huffed Pansy, blood pounding in her ears. “Draco’s mum is the one who gave the list of conspirators and supporters to the Minister.”

“You’re grasping at straws here,” muttered Diana as the fire faded from her voice and she sat resignedly down at the kitchen table.

Pansy’s pacing slowed in response to the change of tone, and then she turned to face her mother, whose eyes were cast down at the marble flooring. The flatness of her voice was more frightening to Pansy than the screaming had ever been.

“I want you to leave,” said Diana, her eyes still fixed at her feet.

“What?” asked Pansy.

“I want you to leave … now.” Diana’s voice had fallen into a harsh whisper. “You’ve destroyed your family. It’s best that you leave. No! I Insist that you leave this instant”

“You can’t mean it, Mum,” Pansy replied, stunned at this turn of events and angered that she had not seen it coming.

With a quickness Pansy had never known her mother capable of, Diana leapt to her feet and drew her wand in a single motion.

“Go, now. Pack a bag and get out of this house, you thankless bitch! You have ten minutes to get out of your father’s house, and no magic! If you so much as touch your wand, I will kill you.”

Five minutes later, Pansy Parkinson stepped out of the front door of the only home she had ever known, tears streaming silently down her face, with no clue as to where she would spend the night. With her family in tatters and a non-existent relationship with the only wizard she had ever thought she loved, Pansy was alone. She thought reflectively as she approached the edge of her family’s property, beyond which she would be able to Apparate anywhere she chose. At a loss for ideas, yet convinced that she had done the right thing, Pansy turned on the spot and disappeared into the vice-like grip of darkness, deliberating on the one place she knew she could find an affordable room, unaware of the countless number of witches and wizards who had made the same choice through the ages. A brief moment later, her lungs gratefully drew in the stale, smoky air of The Leaky Cauldron.



Ginny had no idea how long she had been crying in her mother’s protective embrace before she managed to draw a steady breath. She raised her head to stare into her mother’s loving eyes.

“Are you okay, dear?” Molly asked gently.

“I think so,” answered Ginny, although she wasn’t entirely sure her statement was true.

“Now,” began her mother tenderly, “why in the world would Harry not want to be with you, even if you can’t have children. After all, there was no certainty you could conceive when he asked you to marry him.”

“That’s not the issue,” answered Ginny as a new wave of emotion began to wash over her. “I’m sure Harry would have me. It’s just that he’s never had a family of his own, at least not one that he can remember.”

“You’re his family now, dear,” said Molly soothingly. “We’re his family. He’s already been as good as a son to your father and me.”

“Don’t you see, Mum? I understand that you and Dad have loved him as well as you love any of us. In fact, the thought terrifies me from time to time.”

“Terrifies you?” asked Molly.

“Yes,” whispered Ginny as a single tear slid from her eye.

“Why would that terrify you, dear?” Molly’s hand came up to cup Ginny’s face on one side while her lips pressed against her daughter’s opposite cheek.

“Oh, Mum,” gasped Ginny. “I know it sounds crazy, but when I feel insecure, I sometimes wonder if Harry loves me more because I’m a Weasley than because of who I am on my own.”

“Ginevra Molly Potter,” said Molly, again kissing her daughter’s cheek with almost imperceptible softness. “Harry has been a Weasley for six years now. He didn’t need to marry you to be a part of this family.”

Shocked at the simple reality of her mother’s words, Ginny felt a tiny smile beginning to creep across her face. “You think so, Mum?”

“I know so, dear.”

“But he deserves a family. It’s what he has wanted more than anything else.”

“Has he told you this?” asked Molly.

“No, but don’t you remember what Ron said he saw in the Mirror of Erised during their first year?”

“Of course,” Molly replied as tears began to roll down her own face. “What parent could ever forget something like that — his heart’s deepest desire was to be loved by his family.”

“So, don’t you think Harry deserves to be with someone who is sure she can give him that — a family of his own?”

“But no woman knows that, Ginny,” answered Molly.

“That’s easy for you to say when you have seven children,” said Ginny, unable to keep a tiny trace of jealousy from slipping into her voice.

“Oh, my!” said Molly as a veil of sadness seemed to slip from nowhere to dim the brightness that almost always animated her eyes.

“Mum?” asked Ginny, realizing immediately that she had ventured into unknown territory.

“Precious girl,” whispered Molly. “I’ve always wondered if Arthur and I made a mistake by keeping certain things from you children.”

“What do you mean?” gasped Ginny.

“I know it seems like your father and I can produce babies like clockwork, but that hasn’t always been the case.”

“It hasn’t?” Ginny replied, suddenly feeling self-absorbed and as if she hardly knew her parents at all.

“No, it hasn’t. I lost our first baby just a few weeks after Arthur and I found out we were expecting. I have no idea why, but one morning, I woke up and … and … and it just happened.”

“Oh, Mum,” Ginny managed to say while swallowing tears for her mother’s pain.

“It was hard, dear, but we managed to get past it. Eighteen months later, Bill came into our lives.”

Ginny pulled her mother close, reversing the roles the women had played only minutes before.

“I’m so sorry, Mum. I mean, I never knew.”

“And perhaps we weren’t doing all of you children a favor by not telling you such things,” said Molly regretfully.

“You can’t criticize yourself for that decision,” said Ginny.

“There is more to tell, dear,” continued Molly. “Much to our surprise, we learned that I was pregnant again shortly after Percy was born.”

“Fred and George?” asked Ginny.

“No,” said Molly softly. “It happened again, just like it did the first time. I woke up one morning, felt terrible for a few hours, and lost the baby.”

Ginny found herself speechless. She would never have guessed that her parents had suffered so much loss before she had even been born. Neither could she have anticipated sharing a similar experience before turning seventeen.

“Of course, very soon thereafter we were blessed with Fred and George,” said Molly as her voice began to shake. “My sweet handful. Your father and I often wondered if we hadn’t been given our mischievous twins to make up for the loss of our other children.”

Ginny smiled softly and slid her hands down her mother’s arms until their palms were pressed gently together.

“Oh, Merlin!” whispered Molly. “My poor sweet boys. Who would have thought it? George injured so terribly and Fred … Fred …”

“It’s okay, Mum,” answered Ginny, feeling embarrassed to have thought her own problems so unmanageable.

As if she had read her daughter’s mind, Molly turned and added reassuringly, “It’s okay, dear. We all have our problems, and there is no way to rank whose are the hardest to bear. The only thing we can know about life is that there are no guarantees. Just because you’ve suffered this miscarriage doesn’t mean you won’t have a Burrow full of your own.”

“But what if I can’t?” asked Ginny as her fears returned, albeit at a lesser degree of intensity.

“Then you won’t, and you will be Harry’s family,” Molly replied.

“But what if I’m not enough?”




Harry walked slowly from the waiting area in which he had been meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall, anxious to talk to Ginny, although not primarily about the things he had been discussing. He had been gone too long and feared he might have missed his wife’s return to full consciousness. The capture of Malcolm Parkinson and the other wizards and witches who had agreed to serve under Lucius Malfoy would be his problem soon enough. Until then, he needed to be with his wife.

Harry turned the doorknob as quietly as he could in an effort not to disturb Ginny in the event that she was still asleep.

“Then you won’t, and you will be Harry’s family,” said Molly.

“But what if I’m not enough?”

“What does that mean?” asked Harry softly. “How could you possibly not be enough?”

Molly pressed a final kiss on her daughter’s cheek and rose from the seat she had taken when Harry had been called to meet with Kingsley.

“Ginny, you need to talk this over with your husband,” Molly added before heading out of the room, pausing only long enough to give Harry a motherly pat on the arm.

“Thank you, Mum,” called Ginny, her voice full of appreciation for her remarkable mum.

Harry’s eyes moved rapidly over the situation before him. Ginny’s eyes remained bloodshot and the tracks of her recent tears were still evident on her face. As he noticed the haphazard stack of jewelry that had still been on his wife when last he left the room, Harry’s stomach twisted into a painful knot.

“Ginny?” he repeated. “What if you’re not enough for what? To be my family? Is that what your mum was talking about?”

“I was just telling Mum that I’m worried about what Healer Smethwyck had to say about my ability to have children — how we can’t know for certain that I’ll be able to get pregnant again.”

“And?” asked Harry, unable to voice the fears that were rushing at breakneck speed through his mind. For only the third time in his life, Harry both heard and felt the pop from deep within his chest as adrenaline flooded his system. The first time had occurred when he came upon Ginny’s near-lifeless body in the Chamber of Secrets and the second when he had witnessed Lord Voldemort’s gruesome rebirth in the graveyard of Little Hangleton.

“Harry, I … I love you more … more than life itself,” Ginny stammered, looking as fearful as Harry felt.

“So you rip off your rings?” he replied, not knowing whether fear or anger would win the battle that was raging within.

“I just thought maybe you’d be better off if you could be free to choose someone you knew could give you a family.”

As quickly as it had risen within him, the surge of adrenaline subsided and a sad smile spread across Harry’s face.

“And you thought I broke up with you last year for a stupid noble reason,” he whispered.

“Well, it was,” answered Ginny.

“No more stupid or noble than this,” Harry added, moving steadily toward the pile of jewelry.

“What?” Ginny asked, her eyes glued to Harry’s movements.

“That you thought I should run off and find someone better suited for breeding.”

“Mum said you wouldn’t see the logic in it.”

“Because there isn’t any logic in it,” Harry said flatly while gathering both rings in his right hand.

“Is too,” Ginny whispered while meeting his smile with one of her own.

“Obviously you haven’t accepted what I’ve told you at least three times already.”

“What’s that?” she asked softly.

Harry took her left hand in his and slipped both rings back in place before answering her question.

“That I intend to spend the rest of my life honoring you with all that I am and all that I have.”
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