Epilogue.
"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."
-Pericles
London, 2011.
It hadn't rained in days. The summer had been oppressive, heatwaves and drought. Everywhere you looked there were signs that spoke of how badly people wanted to keep out of the sun. Still, they had all made it out that day.
After the ceremony they had found their way to the docks. They chatted amongst themselves, because some had not seen each other in a great while. Mostly that talked about the newlyweds. When finally the newlyweds arrived their were words exchanged and hugs given.
The scene was makeshift family, friends and those loved ones more important than that. Family had been taken care of the evening prior.
Ron and Luna had their daughter with them. A little red headed girl all of almost six years old and holding tight to her father's leg. Neville stood while Ginny sat to rest her tired ankles, her pregnant belly poking out of her shirt at the bottom. Draco and Amber had flown out to be there, all smiles and blown kisses the bride and groom.
Harry released the lines that had tethered his ship to the pier, Hermione gave a teary eyed wave to the friends assembled, and the newlyweds were off to parts unknown, if only to the two of them. Strange and foreign waters. A change in latitude, attitude, and longitude.
* * *
London, 2010.
Change, he had been told, was a thing that came on slowly but with the finality of death about it's aspect. Everything changes, and time and tide wait not. Still, with his heart in his throat, asking her to marry him had been the biggest challenge of his life.
A single tear had escaped her eye before she threw her arms around him. She whispered, half sobbed really, her response.
"Yes. Merlin, a million times, yes."
They held each other in the bed they shared, warm a content, long after their love making had concluded. In the morning they would tell their friends and family. In the morning it would be all good news and congratulations, about time and the afterglow.
Tonight belonged to the the lovers. Tonight was their moment to bask in the wonder of their lives. Tonight was their chance to savor the way time had changed everything.
* * *
New York City, 2009.
The group had gathered around the table to celebrate Thanksgiving, a peculiar American holiday that Draco had become enamored with since he had become a full fledged American citizen. And they waited for him to finish in the kitchen, checking and re checking the turkey until he could deem it edible.
Amber showed them all pictures that she had taken on their last big trip out to see everyone.
Was it really that many years ago? We do try to get over there when we can, after all.
Here was one with the boys, see how Ron is giving Harry a wet willy? Look how it makes Draco and Neville laugh!
And don't the girls look so wonderful? But, of course, don't they always?
When Draco sets down the meal and tells them all that what he is thankful for is his second family. He is thankful for each of them and the place they have made for him in their lives. They pat his back or rub their eyes, though none of them are crying about anything, not a thing at all.
Together they all share their thanks, each and every one of them thankful for things exactly the same and totally different.
Because they had not always been friends, because there was a time, not too long ago when they had all drifted apart and to some degree even hated one another. And no matter what they were thankful for in words expressed the sentiment behind the words was consistent. They were thankful for the changes.
And on that peculiar American holiday they are a family, just like they always had been, and just like they always would be.
* * *
London, 2008.
Sitting on her desk were pictures of Harry. There had once been piles of paperwork, calendars with the dates filled in, and random scraps of parchment, odd and out of place, thrown here or there. She didn't have those things anymore because there was so much less work for her to do these days. Harry and joined her office, showing a real aptitude for work of any kind.
Eventually the people that had once been her assistants had become so capable at her job that she could find more time to spend away from work.
And she did. Her and Harry set sail for far away lands once a year, as a vacation. One week out of every year, and then the bliss was over and they came back to work.
But she could see the distant day on the horizon already. The day she would not be able to say no to his suggestion of sailing the world with him. The day that the work, sometimes over her head as it was, would no longer need her.
There was a part of her that would miss it. Because it had been her calling, it truly had. Once and long ago it had been her passion. But passions change, everything changes, after all.
* * *
Hogsmeade, 2007.
Ginny would wipe down the bar while Neville stared at her. She knew he was staring, and he knew that she knew, but together they both pretended that it was nothing. They did so because, years of marriage later and they still wanted each other. They had no desire to say it aloud and watch it go away.
Sometimes, because she had to know, she would turn her head and catch his eye. He would smile a silly little smile, half embarrassed and half poorly maintained bedroom eyes. She would love him all over again, like it was brand new. It didn't matter that it didn't happen as often as it used to. It only mattered that it happened at all.
They had tried, the year before, rather unsuccessfully to get pregnant. Unsuccessful, but not in the usual way. There was nothing wrong with either of them physically that prevented it, but when finally they both admitted to not being ready for a child, the air around them was palpable with relief.
Still, after a long night of work, her hair matted to her head in several places by sweat, she took comfort in the fact that her husband was still attracted to her.
* * *
London, 2006.
Harry and Ron would meet for tea every other Wednesday. They would catch each other up on the goings on in their lives. Ron had a child and Harry had just moved in with Hermione not that long ago. Together they would share, and laugh and talk.
However they could feel the distance between them all the while. Ron was a husband and a father, his problems made Harry's seem trite in comparison. Ron, saint that he sometimes way, he never said a word of it, but unspoken between them it was acknowledged. It wasn't a rift, not exactly, that had grown between them, but something was there. Just out of the reach of words and a shared sense of humor.
Ron had become a man, and Harry was struggling not to be a man-child. Still, every other Wednesday they would try to ignore it and, for the sake of their friendship, they would sit down to tea together.
* * *
London, 2005.
When the last of their things had made it's way into the new flat, Harry and Hermione collapsed on the bed. They laughed about it not having sheets on it yet, and they fell asleep. Their hands touched the whole night.
When they woke up in their new living space, in their new lives, they kissed. It had been a spontaneous thing, with little to no passion. It was the reflex kiss two lovers develop when they don't live together. A kind of, "It's so good to see you again" kiss.
They blushed at one another before having breakfast. Made small talk about the decorations, the way the sunlight came in through the kitchen window and about how awkward the kiss had been.
And as awkward as it was, that first morning together, they kissed each other first thing in the morning every morning afterward.
* * *
London, 2004.
When Harry woke up the next morning he put the fact that she hadn't answered his question out of his head. They were together, finally and wonderfully together, all of the little things seemed to melt away. So why too, should this not?
He loved her. He loved her in ways he didn't know, only hours ago, that he could. And he knew, with the clarity of the morning after, that if there was one thing in the universe that would always change it was that he loved her.
Every day, for the rest of his life, that feeling would change. He would love her a little bit more. He would awake one day to find that "love" is an inadequate word for how he feels about her.
He smiled to himself, looked at a stack of sailing books by his bed, at the brochures for travel destinations resting on the table.
"I have her." He said to himself, "Who needs the world?"
Author's Note:
Quite a wild ride. I want to thank you all for joining me on it. More so I want to thank you for your heartfelt, honest, and supportive comments. They have meant the world to me.
This is how I always intended to end the story, from the time I wrote the prologue as a matter of fact. I wanted to sandwich the story between years counting up at the start and years counting down at the end. Though I had planned to end the story after Chapter Eleven: Time/Fragile back then.
Any way, enough of me! This is about you, and about how much it has meant to me what you guys have said along the way. You're the best people I could have picked to read this story. Thank you, again.
-Carbonbased