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Far From Over by JayR
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Far From Over

JayR

Epilogue

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Harry was awakened by something crawling up his stomach. He peered through the darkness, while reaching for his glasses.

"Munchkin, what are you doing up so early?" he whispered, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. She'd worked very late and needed her rest.

"Daddy pway wif me. Pwesents…" stated the raven haired toddler.

"Why don't I make you some breakfast so Mummy can sleep a bit longer," Harry attempted.

"Pwesents!" cried the small boy.

"It's fine, honey. I can sleep a bit later. Let's go check out the presents before he breaks all of the windows again," said a sleepy Hermione.

"Are you sure?" he asked concerned.

"I won't say no to a strong cup of coffee, though…" she mumbled, rising and reaching for her dressing gown.

Harry waved his hand toward the kitchen and heard the teapot begin to heat. "Well, little man, let's get you changed and dressed before we go down, shall we?"

The boy's face fell. "Simon wants pwesents now!" he demanded his big brown eyes filling with tears.

"That's quite enough of that! You will settle down while we get dressed or no presents until after dinner tonight." Harry scolded the boy.

The boy gave Harry a sneaky smile. "I wuv oo, Daddy," he grinned. "You said when say I wuv oo, it makes you happy. Are oo happy now?"

"You little pixie," Harry chuckled. "Let's wake up your sister, as well."

"Sam?" he called through the closed door. "Your brother is getting restless for pwe…presents. Want to come down?"

"Sure, Dad, I'll be right there," she answered.

Harry took the boy back into his room. "How did you get out of your cot?" he asked.

"I cwimbed," Simon stated matter-of-factly.

Finally the squirming, impatient boy was dressed and ready for the day. Daybreak had finally come.

Harry carried his son downstairs to find his wife reading the morning Prophet. "Anything good in there today?" he asked.

"Just the usual rubbish," she replied.

Harry leaned the child down to his mummy who gave her a loud kiss on the cheek.

"How's my big boy this morning?" she asked.

"He's cross. He wants pwesents…" grumbled Harry. "You look tired, love. What do you say to asking Sam to watch this one for a bit after presents, while I tuck you back in bed?"

"Does Sam get a choice in the matter? Who says I want to watch the monster," Samma teased. "Good morning, munchkin." She kissed his little cheek.

"It's so good to have you home for the holidays," said Hermione. "We've missed you. How are your classes going?"

"They're fine, Mum. I just wish I had gotten a bit more of Dad's power, rather than him," she scowled indicating Simon with her thumb.

"Be careful what you wish for…" cautioned her father while spooning porridge into Simon's mouth. "I would have loved to have had your mum's dedication to her studies."

Hermione snorted to herself in disbelief. "We don't know what the future holds, love, but your father paid dearly for that power. Are you ready to sacrifice something else in exchange?"

"I don't mean Dad. I know his story and it's horrible what he went through, but Simon is just a baby.

"Simon not baby! Simon a big boy! Wight, Mummy?" the boy sputtered through his cereal.

"Yes, you are, sweetie," cooed Hermione. "You are mummy's big boy!" turning back to her twelve-year-old daughter, she continued. "I'm sure there's a reason Simon received a portion of your dad's power. We just don't know why yet. Don't treat him any differently. He is and always will be your baby brother."

In the meantime, Simon had finished his cereal. Harry wiped his face and held his hand as the family went into the den. Simon jumped in glee as he took in the enormous tree surrounded by presents.

"Harry," said Hermione, in awe of the magnitude, as she was every year. "You are going to spoil them."

"Then let them be spoiled. They are good kids. They deserve to be treated as such." Hermione accepted his words as she always did and began to hand out the gifts.

"Is this what I think it is?" Sam exclaimed holding up a large shiny cloak.

"That was your grandfather's, my father. Professor Dumbledore gave to me Christmas of my first year."

"Thanks, Dad," she beamed. "Uncle Remus has told me so many stories about him and his invisibility cloak. This makes it feel less like a grandfather who died and more like a real person. Thank you."

"Just don't get caught…" Harry began.

"Honestly. Harry!" Hermione scolded. "You are her father. Don't tell her not to get caught. You're supposed to be telling her not to break the rules!"

"I won't be a 'do as I say, not as I do' type of dad," explained Harry. "Sometimes the situation calls for a bit of rule-breaking. Use your best judgment and be ready to face the consequences of your actions."

Hermione harrumphed her displeasure at his attitude, yet let it go, since she knew he was correct. It just didn't seem to her as if it were something a father should say.

Harry walked over and gave his wife a kiss to let her know that he understood her point.

Hermione opened next a gold locket with a picture of Harry, Sam and Simon waving happily at her. "It's gorgeous, love. Thank you! Help me put it on…"

Harry assisted her with the necklace, while Simon called, "Me! Me!" at seeing his picture.

Sam opened a picture that was obviously drawn by Simon. "Thanks, Munchkin! I'll hang it in my dorm room."

Simon chortled, "Sam wike picher! I dwew Sam picher!"

"And it looks just like her, Simon. You did a very good job!" praised Hermione. She noticed both Sam as well as Harry tilting their heads to try to see Sam in the crude drawing.

Harry opened a gift to find a beat up hairbrush. "Think this one will do any good?" he laughed with his wife. His family had always exchanged gag gifts since the first year they were married. Remus had told Hermione of Harry's fantasy Christmas, so she made a point to enable him to live that dream every year.

Hermione, who was opening a box containing an empty tissue roll, cried "Oh, Harry! I love it!" Then she began humming into the roll as if it were a kazoo. Simon chortled.

Simon opened a toy broom and squealed with glee, while Sam opened a coat hanger. "Thanks Mum. I'm running out of these at school."

After the mountain of gifts had been opened, Simon's and Hermione's eyes began to droop. "I'll take her, if you'll take him."

"Alright," Sam agreed. "Then I'll tidy up down here."

Harry pulled his daughter into his arms and looked into her emerald eyes. "I've missed you, Sam," he sighed. After Harry's previous injuries, they had a fair bit of trouble conceiving Sam. Finally, almost five years after their wedding, she was born. Harry missed work for two days, inconsolable when Sam left for Hogwarts. He spent his 'sick' days rocking his infant son as if determined not to miss a minute of his life.

"I've missed you, too, Dad. I'll be glad when Dobby and Winky get back, though."

"They deserve to spend Christmas with their families, too. You'll just have to make do with my cooking for a few days, that's all."

"What time is lunch at Grandma Molly's?"

"Half one," Harry replied. "If we aren't up yet, wake us by eleven, please."

"You'll be awake by then, but if not, I'll wake you," she answered

Harry picked up his sleeping wife and carried her up to their room. He laid her gently on the bed, removed her dressing gown and slid the blankets over her. He crawled into bed himself and pulled her into his arms. She never stirred.

The next thing he was aware of was his daughter's voice calling through the door. "Dad? Time to wake up…."

"Thanks, Sam. We'll be down in a bit," he replied.

"I don't want to wake yet," grumbled Hermione beside him.

Harry smiled at her. "And why would that be?"

"I was having the most delicious dream…" she murmured with a sleepy smile.

"I see," he responded. "And what was this dream about?"

Hermione gave a husky chuckle, "You, me and a long steamy shower…"

"So would you like to dream about it some more or participate?" he asked in a mock casual voice.

Her eyes flew open and bored into his. "We don't have time for that. We have to be at the Burrow…"

"In about two hours…" he smirked. "I figure, we both need a shower anyway. If we are running late, I'll just apparate us over."

"Merlin, I love it when you do that," she sighed.

A bit later, Hermione took care of waking Simon, while Harry went down to check on Sam, who he found finishing up her holiday homework.

"All done then?" he asked her.

"Yes, all I had left was the Defense essay. Want to look it over?"

"I'd love to," he responded. He picked her up off the chair and sat down in it with her in his lap.

"It's a bit long," she said with a wrinkled nose. "We're supposed to do a foot, but I couldn't get it shortened enough. I finished at just over three. Can you help me?"

"I think that if your ideas and explanations take three feet, then turn in three feet. The length doesn't matter. It is the content that's being graded."

Hermione scoffed as she came down the stairs. "My, how your attitude has changed over the years, Mr. Potter."

Harry grinned and said to his daughter, "I wasn't the most studious bloke in school. Your mother was on Uncle Ron and me constantly. We'd never have passed without her help."

"We'll be studying Voldemort next year, Dad. Will you help me with that?" Sam asked.

"I'll do even better. Professor McGonagall has asked me to speak to your class. I wanted to check with you first."

Sam threw her arms around her father. "That would be brilliant!" she beamed.

"Fancy a quick flight across the field?" he asked her kissing the top of her head.

"Race you!" she screamed as she tore off to get her broom.

"Please be careful, Harry," Hermione said with a long suffering sigh.

Harry gave her a wide grin. "Accio!" he called as he raised his hand in the air.

Hours later, at the Burrow, Harry and Ron were coming in from a flight/meeting in the orchard. Upon entering Harry found Sam in a deep discussion with the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley and Hermione trying to deal with a raging temper tantrum from Simon, who was upset that Ron's youngest daughter, Amelia, named after the late Minister, was not sharing her toys.

Harry pointed a finger at his son. The boy went perfectly still. Hermione jumped in fright.

"Harry James Potter! I don't care if you are the Junior Minister; unfreeze your son this instant!" his wife shouted.

"He is not going to throw a Dudley in the middle of Christmas," Harry explained. "I'll unfreeze him when he promises to behave."

"Leave him frozen," complained Sam. "He's been a nightmare all morning."

"He's only two! It is normal for two-year-olds to have tantrums and to be overwhelmed on Christmas, honey," explained Mrs. Weasley. "You just need to distract him before he gets a good head of steam."

Harry walked over and scooped up the motionless boy. "Are you going to be good?"

The toddler's eyes went wide. Harry took that for a positive answer and said, "Finite."

Simon gave his dad a pout. His watery brown eyes looked to his father apprehensively.

"Now, let's have no more of that. Why don't you show Grandpa the airplane Father Christmas brought you? He would love that." He gave his son a quick squeeze and set him down. Simon scurried off happily, his earlier distress forgotten.

"You are so good with him," complimented a harried Hermione.

Harry led his wife to a corner for a private chat. "That's because we understand one another. He's a bright boy. He knows that he can do things you can't undo. He also knows that I can and will hang him on a wall if he tries it."

"Samma was a much easier baby. I think he must intimidate me. He is going to be a terror when he starts Hogwarts and finds out what he can really do." Hermione had had a difficult pregnancy with Simon. She had spent the last two months on complete bed rest, which Harry found hilarious, given his former experience with it. He faithfully met her every whim when he was home and hired a young witch with a baby to help when he wasn't.

"That only means we have nine more years to teach him why he shouldn't try. I would have never thought you'd be the more lenient parent. You were right bossy with Sam."

Hermione slapped at his arm. "He already knows what buttons to push with me. Most of the time, he's wonderful, but days like today…."

"He gets overexcited and needs to be calmed down. Hermione, don't doubt yourself like this. You are a wonderful mother. We were just blessed with a very powerful son."

"I just love him so much…I want to be able to relate to him and I can't…"

"Who says you can't? Don't treat him any differently than you would any other two-year-old. He'll be fine. I just think you worry too much." He pulled his wife into his arms and lowered his lips to hers.

"Gross, Dad!" fussed Sam. "Do you guys have to do that in front of everybody?"

Lupin and Tonks came back in from their stroll along with Ron and Luna. "It seems…" said Lupin, "I need to find that sign again."

The rest of the older children came bustling in, followed by Grandpa carrying a giggling boy holding a small airplane. "Mummy! It fwew! It fwew!" Simon called excitedly.

"It did? How exciting!" she replied taking her son in her arms and spinning around.

Harry smiled at her efforts. Ron's twin boys, who were third years at Hogwarts, approached him.

"Uncle Harry?" Timothy asked hesitantly. "Is it true…"

Thomas took over, "…that little Simon is as powerful as you are?"

Timothy continued, "We heard at school that he is…"

Harry thought carefully before answering. Luna answered for him, "Does it really matter?" she asked her curious, ginger haired sons. "Isn't it enough that he's a sweet little boy?"

"I wouldn't exactly call him 'sweet'," Harry mumbled as he looked over and saw him trying to stick his fingers in his mother's nose.

"Yes, he is!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "He's just precocious…I remember my twins at that age…"

"Someone call us?" asked Fred coming in the front door.

"At your service…" added George carrying a tiny baby. "The girls are coming soon."

Ginny and Draco Malfoy arrived along with the ever present Edgar. They had been married for just over a year and were very different people than in their younger days. Ginny still worked for the Wizard Welfare department. Malfoy worked from his home at Malfoy Manor investing in new wizarding businesses, under the watchful eye of Edgar. Edgar, himself, had made a tidy profit in venture capital, as well, but knew his job was to keep Malfoy out of trouble. Edgar ran any investments Malfoy was considering by the Aurors for clearance. So far, everything had been legitimate.

It had taken quite awhile for Malfoy to be accepted by Harry or the Weasleys, yet Malfoy patiently waited until he could earn their trust before asking to marry Ginny. Harry and Malfoy never became friends. They could, however, be in the same room without killing each other, so that was an improvement. Even after all the years that had passed, Harry still avoided Ginny as best he could. She understood and didn't force anything. Simon, on the other hand, loved Ginny and squealed with glee whenever he saw her.

Christmas dinner was a boisterous affair, which was the usual at the Burrow. Also, as usual for the last several years, Harry had enlarged the room and table so they could all sit around it and eat together. Afterward, the Ministry officials of the group went into the backyard for a spot of work discussion.

When they were finished, Harry returned to the den and stood silently in the doorway. He watched as Hermione slowly rocked a sleeping Simon, Samma was playing wizard chess against Timothy, while Thomas looked on, Remus and Tonks were whispering softly. Fred, George and their wives were playing Exploding Snap. Mr. Weasley went to help his wife in the kitchen, while Ron and Luna looked out the window at the stars. Hermione caught her husband's eye. "I love you," she mouthed at him. "Thank you," he mouthed back. "Merlin, I love my life…" he thought to himself as he rejoined the group.