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SIYE Time:13:23 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: 74192; Chapter Total: 4616





Author's Notes:
It's a short chapter by my standards, anyway, but I think you will all understand why it needed to end where it did. Also, I saw no reason to bore everyone with a drawn out explanation of how Draco and Pansy skulked around after the funeral became a reception.




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“Oh, God!” Ginny screamed, as wave after blissful wave crashed over her body, shaking her from head to toe. For a few moments she couldn’t focus, but soon enough she was able to make out the contours of Harry’s face, which showed clearly that he was still fighting to maintain control. She smiled warmly down at him, unable to suppress the soft giggle that escaped. 


“Now, baby … now!” 

She watched Harry’s teeth relax the grip they had held on his lower lip, and a guttural groan burst suddenly from him. The effect was intoxicating, bringing forth yet another wave from somewhere deep within her. In fact, Ginny could have sworn that this one had come from her heart, although that couldn’t have been possible … or could it? 



“I love you, baby,” she whispered. 



“More than anything,” he answered. “More than life, itself.”



Silence fell over them as Ginny reflected on what Harry had just said. “More than life, itself.” She allowed the words to turn over repeatedly in her mind. The phrase was powerful, so powerful that Ginny found it surprising that she accepted everything it implied without doubt. 



“Ginny … love?” The upward inflection told her that Harry was beginning a question. “Do you understand … now … why I came after Bellatrix instead of Voldemort?”



“Yes, Harry,” she answered. “Yes, I believe so.”



Ginny understood the pervasive need to protect the one she loved the moment Draco and Pansy appeared behind Harry’s back during Fred’s funeral. She had understood that she had only a split second to act, for if Malfoy had meant to make an attempt on Harry’s life, even a moment of hesitation might spell the difference between life and death for the man she loved more than life itself.

So she had taken action, stunning Draco without hesitation. She had also been prepared to do the same to Pansy Parkinson, but Kreacher had obviously come to the same conclusion. Acting together, Ginny and Kreacher had neutralized the threat against Harry, choosing to hex first and ask questions later. 



“You were brilliant, you know that?” Harry asked as he reached up to stroke her face reverently. 
”Who really knows what Parkinson and Malfoy had in mind? Just because they say they meant no harm after you and Kreacher hexed
 them doesn’t mean their intentions were completely benign.”

“Kingsley didn’t seem to think I was so brilliant,” she replied. 



“Kingsley didn’t know that Malfoy had tried to kill me the last time we saw each other,” replied Harry.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t report that and insist that he be arrested,” Ginny added. 



“I only asked Kingsley to let him go because his mother saved my life while I was in the Forbidden Forest. If she hadn’t lied to Voldemort, I don’t know how things would have ended, but given that I was surrounded by Death Eaters l doubt it would have been a happy ending.”

“Okay,” replied Ginny. “Despite the fact that you damn near killed me by playing dead, your plan worked out quite well, so I’ll defer to your decision to let Draco off the hook, but don’t get used to me being deferential, Harry!”

“Understood,” said Harry, winking at his fiancé. “But what do you think Malfoy was really doing here?”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t overly fond of either Fred or George.”

“And I’ve never heard any of the Malfoys say a single nice word about any member of your family. They sneer and condescend at every opportunity. So, again, why in Merlin’s name do you think he came, and why bring along Pansy Parkinson? She absolutely hates all of you, not to mention what she thinks of me.”

“Assuming they were not there to attack us, then we should look at what they did after Malfoy was revived and Parkinson regained her composure,” suggested Ginny.

“Of course!” exclaimed Harry, an idea entering his mind. “What did they do as opposed to what we would have expected them to do?”

“Exactly,” agreed Ginny. “You’d have expected them to hang around with Flint and Zabini. Instead, they stuck to Professor Slughorn like they were joined by Spell-o-Tape!”

“Precisely! And what is Sluggy’s stock in trade?” Harry asked.

“Ignoring the rhetorical nature of your question,” said Ginny, her eyebrows rising, “the answer is ‘information’ … information and favors.”

“Then it is our job to figure out precisely what information they were after,” added Harry.

“Harry!” huffed Ginny. “What do you think … that they were wondering where Fred would be buried … whether or not the family would be grieving?”

“Of course not.”

“I hate to sound paranoid, Harry, but the only information that was not widely know before the funeral was our engagement and Hermione’s plan to visit Australia in search for her parents.”

“That’s true,” answered Harry.

“I have to think he and Pansy were trying to get all the information they could about you, Harry.”

“Me?” he replied, baffled.

“Yes, you!” Ginny huffed. “If Neville’s parents were hunted down and tortured by some of the Death Eaters who avoided incarceration after the first war, don’t you think you’re going to remain a target after what you just did to Voldemort?”

“I guess,” said Harry reluctantly, “but don’t you think the Malfoys will lay off of me after I let them walk?”

“Narcissa, maybe … just maybe … and I wouldn’t bet any money on that, Harry! As for the other two, and marginal players like the Parkinsons … well, you’d be foolish to think they won’t be looking for blood.”

“All I want to do is be left alone,” replied Harry. “If, and I mean IF I become an Auror some time in the future, maybe I’ll be taking on Dark Wizards again, but for now, all I want to do is settle down with you, teach a few classes, and start our new life.”

“Good luck with that, Sweetheart! It’s a wonderful idea, and we don’t have to go looking for trouble, but let’s face it, Harry; when hasn’t trouble come looking for you?”

“Yet you still want to tie yourself to me forever?”

“Of course I do, you daft boy! I said ‘yes,’ didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“And I wanted to go with you last year, but it was you who wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I’ve said I was sorry and admitted it was a stupid mistake.”

“But you did it because you love me … and that’s the only reason I’ve forgiven you … AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT!” Ginny’s underlying smile gave comfort to Harry that she was truly past her anger — or at least working her way through it.

“Okay,” answered Harry, “now let’s get some sleep.”

“Not tonight,” said Ginny, disappointment etched on her face. “Mum and Dad are surprisingly understanding, but I don’t think they can afford to accept the excuse that we’ve been helping Kreacher with cleaning all night.”

“But, Ginny,” pleaded Harry, making his best effort to imitate her ‘I-want-something' eyes.

“Not working, love!” she said, laughter lacing her every word. “Time to head back to The Burrow, but if you’re a good boy, I’m sure Hermione can be imposed upon to switch places again after everyone else is asleep.”


*****



“We ll, Draco,” drawled Lucius softly, “all things considered, I think that went even better than I could have dreamed of. You managed to obtain useful results despite making a complete and total mess of things.”


“Better?” asked Draco. Everything about his appearance bore witness to his depressed state of being. “I was thoroughly embarrassed, Father, but you think it went perfectly?”

“Perfectly,” replied Lucius. “I can’t imagine a better way to put Potter and the Weasleys on the defensive than for them to wrongfully attack an unarmed guest.”



“I wasn’t unarmed, Father. I had my wand with me, as you well know.”



“Don’t be so blindly literalistic, Draco. You sound like that know-it-all Mudblood. My point was that you were doing nothing threatening, despite walking up behind the speaker rather than the congregation, and Arthur Weasley’s daughter attacked you. It was completely unprovoked, which left them in the position of having to apologize to you.”



“Neither Potter nor the Weasley girl apologized for anything, Father. In fact, Potter seemed pretty pleased with his child bride.”



“And that’s the point, son. You have confirmed that Harry Potter is, in fact, engaged to that silly little girl?” asked Lucius. 



“Oh, yes,” answered Draco. “That’s about all anyone wanted to talk about after the funeral.”



“Rather ironic, don’t you think,” asked Lucius, “all that fuss about Mudbloods and Muggles, and Potter goes off and gets engaged to a pureblood?”



“The Weasley girl is a Blood Traitor, just like her parents,” interjected Malcolm Parkinson. 


“True, Malcolm, but like Draco, you are missing the point. How easy will it be to discredit our hero of Mudbloods and half-bloods if we can manage some support from the press about him marrying the pureblood Weasley girl!” 


“Ginny,” said Pansy, speaking at last. 



“What?” asked her father. 



“Ginny. Her name is Ginny, not ‘the Weasley girl.’ Have you people been listening to yourselves?” said Pansy, a flush of anger spreading across her cheeks.


“Since when have you cared about the Weasley girl?” asked Draco.



“I don’t care about her, but you’re the one who said we needed to be careful of her, Draco. Now you’re talking about her as if she isn’t even a person, when she just kicked your ass.”



“You’re one to talk!” replied Draco. “Flattened by a house elf!”



“Now, now, children,” interrupted Lucius, “play nicely.”



Draco and Pansy glared across the table at one another, each wondering how things had gone so sour between them. They had been getting on fairly well until they had been attacked by Ginny and Kreacher. More than anything else, Draco’s pride had been seriously wounded, especially when he woke to find Ginny standing over him, holding not only her own wand, but his new Hawthorne wand as well.

Pansy had not been Stupefied but had immediately surrendered her wand when it had been requested by Ron Weasley. 

The experience had been humiliating, to say the least, but Pansy realized that that had been the point all along. They had been instructed to make amends with Potter and the Weasley family, and while seven years worth of damage could not be overcome in one afternoon, it was a beginning.

At least it appeared they had been well received by everyone other than Harry and Ginny. It was evident that Potter would never like or trust Draco Malfoy, but what he thought wouldn’t matter if Lucius’s plans were successful. 



“So, tell me more of what you learned,” instructed Lucius, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had developed around the Malfoy’s conference table. 



“I overheard an interesting conversation between Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt,” said Pansy. “Apparently Shacklebolt offered Potter the chance to head up the new Auror department.”



“Yes, I had heard that rumor,” said Lucius. “What did he say to the Minister?”



“Potter told him he was going to return to Hogwarts to finish his education and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Shacklebolt seemed unhappy with the decision but told Potter that he would think about holding the job open — but only for the one year.”



“Very interesting,” said Lucius. “And the others?”



“Ron Weasley and the Mudblood are going to Australia to find her parents,” interjected Draco. Apparently she sent them away while she was helping Potter fight against the Dark Lord.”



“And the wedding? Have they set a date?” asked Malcolm Parkinson. 



“Saturday, the sixth of June. The day after my birthday” answered Draco. “At least that’s what I heard Mrs. Weasley tell some old hag she called ‘Aunt Muriel.’ She practically had to scream it at the old bat in order for her to hear it. Apparently Potter and the Weasley girl don’t want to waste any time.”



“I guess not,” replied Lucius. “That gives us less than two weeks to put our plans in place.”



“You’re going to attack Potter on his wedding day?” asked Draco. 



“Can you think of an occasion when they might be more distracted?” asked Lucius. “With the fall of the Dark Lord and a family celebration to organize, when do you think they might be less on guard? Add to that the fact that Potter’s sidekicks will be traveling out of the country, and I suspect there will be little attention paid to security.”



“But surely they will be back for the wedding,” objected Draco. “Those three have been joined at the hip for seven years!”



“Surely,” agreed Lucius. “But they won’t be here for the preparations. Who will be left to think about security? Dumbledore is dead, and so are Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and the werewolf, Lupin. The rest of the Weasleys will be moving straight from a funeral to a wedding, so they will be distracted. I can’t imagine a better setting for a surprise attack.”



“But even if you are successful in killing Potter, how do you plan to take control so soon?”



“I don’t plan to take control, Draco. Not yet. I only plan to take control of the Elder Wand. As long as no one knows that it is I who killed Harry Potter, I can seize the Wand of Destiny and be its rightful master. Then I can take my time and do things the right way. The Dark Lord became distracted by his personal quest for immortality. That was his downfall. My goal is simpler — to protect wizard-kind against destruction from within.”



“And how will you manage that, Father?” asked Draco. 



“In stages, Son. We start eventually by seizing power. With the unbeatable wand, I can rally those who have been sympathetic to our cause but lacked the courage to become Death Eaters. Once they realize that I cannot be defeated, we can build a coalition of witches and wizards who do not want to see magical blood diluted by mixing with Muggles and Mudbloods. We inspire people who have respect for their heritage and we teach them to fear the dangers of further diluting our genetic legacy.”



“Are there enough purebloods left to make your plan feasible?” Draco said, doubt etched in every word. 



“Of course not. But we don’t have to start with purebloods, alone. Didn’t you see how people turned on one another once we gained control of the ministry? People were desperately trying to prove their own magical heritage, as long as they could show they weren’t Mudbloods.”


“And you expect that to happen again?” asked Draco, skepticism evident in his tone of voice. 


“Of course. It has happened countless times through history, magical and Muggle, and we can depend on people to act the same way again. They want safety and security, so we can count on them with complete certainty. We simply need to know how and where to draw the line.”



“But Voldemort just failed. What makes you think you can succeed with the same strategy when he failed?”



“The Dark Lord was too distant from his followers — too disagreeable to the population at large. He scared away those he needed. His primary motivational tool was fear, so he had two groups of natural enemies. There were zealots like Potter and the Weasleys, who do not believe that it is important to protect the purity of Wizarding blood. They actively approve of intermingling with Mudbloods and Muggles. We will never win over the zealots. However, the Dark Lord also alienated those who lacked the stomach to deal with his methods.”



“So you intend to put a prettier face on the same plan.”


“Exactly, Draco. People don’t want to see ugliness, no matter how necessary it is to accomplish a worthy objective — not even when it is for their own good.”



Pansy had been sitting quietly, taking in everything being exchanged between father and son. The plan was remarkably simple, really. Lucius Malfoy intended to simultaneously take control of the most powerful wand in the world while eliminating the central rallying figure for the opposition.


“You know what?” said Pansy. “I think your plan can work, Mr. Malfoy.”



Draco looked at his part-time girlfriend and thought, at least momentarily, that Pansy had a screw loose. He had a long way to go before he would be able to sign off on his father’s plan. For that matter, they still didn’t know the full content of that plan. Yes, his father wanted to attack Potter at his wedding, but exactly how that was to be accomplished remained a mystery.

*****



“So, how do we get to Australia?” asked Ron, slipping an arm around Hermione at the breakfast table. 


“I think we’ll have to fly,” she answered, gazing directly in Ron’s piercing blue eyes. She was still amazed that he was determined to accompany her on the journey to find her parents and bring them back home to England. 



“Fly?” asked Ron, shock evident on his face. “I thought you hated flying.”



“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said teasingly. “I mean we’ll have to fly on an airplane like the Muggles do, not on brooms! It’s the only dependable way to travel long distances in a short period of time, especially if we don’t want to alert every Death Eater who isn’t yet in Azkaban..”


“Can’t we just Apparate?”



“You know Apparition isn’t safe over long distances. In all honesty, I think we were testing the practical limits by hopping all over Britain for the last year. Even then, we managed to get you splinched. I certainly don’t want to live through that again, and it’s not like we can just jump from country to country, ignoring all the laws against international Apparition. On top of all that, we would still have to cross far too much open ocean to reach Australia.”



“So, we travel like Muggles? How do we do that and is it safe to fly in those aer-o-plane thingies”



“Yes, Ron, it’s safe. In fact, it’s the safest mode of Muggle transportation. And I spoke with Kingsley yesterday afternoon after the funeral. He said he could arrange Muggle passports for us by tomorrow. The Ministry of Magic has arrangements with the Muggle Prime Minister for such things.”



“But what happens if the flight crashes?”

“It won’t crash Ron, but if it does start to go down, we can always Apparte to someplace safe.”

“But how will we know where to Apparate?” asked Ron.

“I’ll study a map, Ron. There are inhabited islands, even if something goes wrong over the water.”

“Okay,” he finally relented. “But how do we pay for the trip?”



“When Mum and Dad agreed to have their memories modified, they moved some money into a bank account for me when they were making plans to have their patients cared for by other dentists. We have enough cash to get us down there and bring all of us back, with plenty to spare.”



“You’re amazing, Hermione, really you are. We’d all have been dead in the first few days if it hadn’t been for you. Harry and I would have been hopeless on our own,” said Ron, gratitude ringing clearly through every word. 



“It took all of us in the end — all three of us, plus Neville, and everyone who fought at Hogwarts. But we did it Ron! We fought to the end and we survived. We survived, and we have each other,” said Hermione, a single tear escaping from her eye as she leaned toward the only man she had ever truly wanted. 



Ron responded enthusiastically, accepting her kiss and deepened it immediately. Electricity flared through their bodies, but the couple was interrupted by a contrived cough as Ginny entered the kitchen with Harry closely in tow.

There had been no question that Harry and Hermione would be trading places on the night following Fred’s funeral, even if it did mean the four would be up before anyone else in the house. She had needed to be with Ron, to feel whole and alive once again. She had known that Ron felt the same way, only more so. It was his brother they had buried, after all, and what better way was there to cling tenaciously to the gift of life than to share your passions?

Hermione had watched Ron’s mood darken progressively as the time inched progressively closer to the hour of Fred’s funeral. No matter how many friends and acquaintances arrived unexpectedly to pay their respects, nothing could have mitigated the pain that accompanies such a loss. As an only child, Hermione realized that she had no basis for comparison — no basis, other than her remarkable relationship with Harry Potter. 



Hermione wasn’t sure when, exactly, she had come to think of Harry as her brother. She often reflected upon her lengthy relationship with him, knowing that she loved him intensely, yet realizing from the very beginning that there had never been even the slightest romantic attraction. But she knew that she would do anything for Harry; give anything for him — even her life — which she had risked on numerous occasions. It was a relationship that was as close to having a sibling as Hermione could possibly imagine. However, there had been almost twelve years in her life before she had met Harry — such a long period of time when her world had been comprised of only her parents, her books, and herself. She had not made friends amongst the Muggles in her early schooling.

In stark contrast, Ron had never lived a day without Fred as a significant person in his life. 

Hermione also realized that comparisons weren’t important. She had not lost Harry, although there had been that awful period of time when she thought Voldemort had killed him. Of course, Ron had shared the same awful feeling, for he was as much Harry’s brother as she was his sister. But Ron had lost Fred. He had endured that searing pain that had to cut to the very core of his being. Yet he still had several saving graces: he had the rest of his family, with whom he shared a life-long bond of love and affection; he had Harry; and, he had Hermione. That particular source of grace rested with her, and she intended to pour every ounce of her love, every ounce of her being, into Ron’s recovery. 



So she gazed into his remarkable blue eyes, willing every bit of the love she felt for him to radiate through her own.

“I love you, Ron,” she murmured softly. 



“Why?” he responded with a cheeky grin. “Because I’m magnificent in bed?”

“UGH!” interrupted Ginny, trying to keep from waking the rest of the household. “Can’t you save that kind of talk until I’m nowhere around.”

“Get used to it, Ginny,” snapped her brother. “Anyway, I have to put up with you and Harry snogging around every corner!”

“Well, we just spent almost a year apart … and you two would have been together that whole time if you’d had the good sense not to leave your best friends in a lurch.”

“I’ve had enough of your shit!” screamed Ron, incensed at his sister’s accusation. “You have no idea what it was like … out in the cold, eating nothing but wild mushrooms and trying not to get caught … or killed! Instead, you got to stay safe, warm, and well fed at Hogwarts!”

Ginny stopped instantly, her features hardening into something approaching hatred. Her complexion turned a deep red until it had spread up her neck and covered her face. The flushing did not stop progressing until she was practically purple. Veins popped to the surface of her neck and forehead. At last, Ginny flung the cup of tea Harry had poured directly at her brother.

“You have no fucking idea, Ron Weasley! None!” she roared defiantly before turning her back and sprinting up the stairs.

In only a matter of seconds, the three teenagers remaining in the kitchen heard the slamming of Ginny’s bedroom door.

“You really can be a wanker when you want to Weasley, a complete and total wanker!” spat Harry before turning his back and following his fiancé up the stairs. If he could persuade her to talk, it was far past time that he learned exactly what Ginny had endured prior to her rescue over the Easter hols.
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