Sometimes, I have to take a moment and look around. My family amazes me. There's so much past here; so much underneath the surface. On the surface, we appear to be three happily-married, young couples, each couple with a kid or two. No one could possibly tell the history which lies beneath those sunny exteriors. There are triumphs over evil, great sadness, the taunts of adolescence, anger, hurt, happiness, and angst. Knowing these three -- the Dream Team, the Great Trio, Harry, Hermione, Ron—whatever you want to call them, has made life an adventure.
Of course, they aren't my real family, if you go by blood and DNA and all that other muggle science mumbo jumbo. However, they are my family in every way that matters. She is my sister. They are my brothers. Of course, it wasn't like these arrangements just fell in our laps one day. Not even close. It took years for us to get here.
The most surprising couple, to everyone outside of this group, is Hermione and Draco. It's shocking to me, but not more so than my own marriage. I'm not even totally sure of their history, except that they became friends after choosing their specialised courses for sixth and seventh year. They shared four classes together and it's not really a surprise they became closer. I always wondered whether or not he was evil, what with his father being the way he was. After Lucius died, Draco helped us to defeat Voldemort and his army. They both worked at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione was the Minister of Information, the youngest in history, and Draco worked in an intelligence division that I know nothing about. Harry worked there occasionally, but he found his niche at Hogwarts as the Dark Arts Professor.
The defeat of Voldemort did not bring around sunshine and daisies the way it had after his first defeat. His second reign made his first look like a circus. After my seventh year at Hogwarts, I escaped with my family to America to hide from the Death Eaters. The personal rivalry between my father and Lucius extended to Voldemort's followers and as the stakes heightened and times became more dangerous, we were forced to flee. Voldemort was defeated six months later, but I was the only one to return to England at first. It was a childish crush that led me here. I wanted to see Harry again, be near him, and a part of me hoped that maybe I'd be able to help him somehow. He was with Hermione at the time, but their relationship didn't last long. To this day, they're the best of friends, closer than any of us. She knows him better than I do, and at times, it bothers me, but I live with it.
Our relationship did not blossom overnight. Eventually, I found that I really loved him and that it wasn't just a teenage crush. He, amazingly, felt the same way and that pretty much brings us up to speed.
And then there's Ron. Ron and his relationship that rocked the Weasleys. I think everyone expected him to marry Hermione, so that we could be one big happy family with lots of little red-headed children, never minding that it's genetically impossible. Also ignoring the fact that I am not my mother. I don't have the hips to bear a house full of children. Anyways, Ron's…partner.
I adore Brandon. I love his American accent and his brash, sometimes flamboyant ways. He has a fantastic sense of humour and he keeps Ron's temper in check. It took the rest of the family a long time to adore him as much as I do. Of course, Hermione and Harry were both supportive, but my mum barred Ron from bringing Brandon to any holiday gatherings. Ron threw it in her face and stayed in America for eight years before she relented and welcomed Brandon into the family. I think she finally sees how well they work together, even though Ron's coming out was a shock. I admit I was surprised. He always seemed so macho and into women. He dated several girls at Hogwarts, but he once told me that he never felt whole with them. Brandon was his first boyfriend and according to Ron, his last.
'Mummy!'
Ah, one of the picture perfect children. Mia. My darling little niece. She has fine blond hair that's almost blinding in the sun. Of course, it's also curly, which seems so strange. It tangles incessantly and Hermione has completely given up on ever taming it. Mia fusses over her hair occasionally, having been properly spoiled by her paternal grandmother. Other times, she can't be bothered. She's been reading since she was three and even when the others are playing in the garden, she has her nose stuck in a book.
'Mummy! Mummy!'
'Mia, what did mummy tell you about interrupting?'
Interrupting?
'Sorry, Mum.' Her answer was generic and automatic.
'Uncle Harry is talking about school and you interrupted him.'
Oops.
'Sorry, Harry. Can I talk now Mum?'
'May you…'
'Hermione, let the child talk.'
I stifle a giggle as Draco rolls his eyes at his wife.
'Abby says you turned into a cat when you were twelve.'
I giggle again, this time aloud.
'Abby doesn't know what she's saying.'
'But she—'
'Princess, come here.' Draco calls Mia over, who quickly forgets the subject at hand and bounces into her father's lap. I shake my head at him and he gives me a secret smile over his daughter's head. Abby is my daughter and she is forever pestering her older cousin. Sam, our son, usually is off playing a pick-up game of rugby with George's five boys. They never let Abby play.
A head of dark hair enters my vision and I see my daughter tear into the garden. She's carrying a large, white ball and being chased by three blond boys.
'Abby!'
Harry jumps up from his chair and runs to catch her. She giggles as he swings her up onto his shoulders, clutching the rugby ball from the boys' game. He shushes her, motioning to the sleeping Riley and Dylan. Dylan is Ron and Brandon's adopted son. He's only four months old, but already, I feel like he's just another member of the family. Riley is my last child; I swear I won't have another one.
As Harry settles Abby on his lap to join his conversation, he catches my gaze and grins at me. Hermione is talking about some program at work and rubbing her very pregnant belly. I smile to Harry as I watch them all, carrying on and laughing together. I feel home here, more than I ever did at the Burrow. It's rare that we're all together like this and I treasure every moment of it.
'Hey Gin?'
I turn to look at Ron, who is peering at Riley.
'Hm?' I look towards my daughter.
'Is that red hair she has?'
Of course, they aren't my real family, if you go by blood and DNA and all that other muggle science mumbo jumbo. However, they are my family in every way that matters. She is my sister. They are my brothers. Of course, it wasn't like these arrangements just fell in our laps one day. Not even close. It took years for us to get here.
The most surprising couple, to everyone outside of this group, is Hermione and Draco. It's shocking to me, but not more so than my own marriage. I'm not even totally sure of their history, except that they became friends after choosing their specialised courses for sixth and seventh year. They shared four classes together and it's not really a surprise they became closer. I always wondered whether or not he was evil, what with his father being the way he was. After Lucius died, Draco helped us to defeat Voldemort and his army. They both worked at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione was the Minister of Information, the youngest in history, and Draco worked in an intelligence division that I know nothing about. Harry worked there occasionally, but he found his niche at Hogwarts as the Dark Arts Professor.
The defeat of Voldemort did not bring around sunshine and daisies the way it had after his first defeat. His second reign made his first look like a circus. After my seventh year at Hogwarts, I escaped with my family to America to hide from the Death Eaters. The personal rivalry between my father and Lucius extended to Voldemort's followers and as the stakes heightened and times became more dangerous, we were forced to flee. Voldemort was defeated six months later, but I was the only one to return to England at first. It was a childish crush that led me here. I wanted to see Harry again, be near him, and a part of me hoped that maybe I'd be able to help him somehow. He was with Hermione at the time, but their relationship didn't last long. To this day, they're the best of friends, closer than any of us. She knows him better than I do, and at times, it bothers me, but I live with it.
Our relationship did not blossom overnight. Eventually, I found that I really loved him and that it wasn't just a teenage crush. He, amazingly, felt the same way and that pretty much brings us up to speed.
And then there's Ron. Ron and his relationship that rocked the Weasleys. I think everyone expected him to marry Hermione, so that we could be one big happy family with lots of little red-headed children, never minding that it's genetically impossible. Also ignoring the fact that I am not my mother. I don't have the hips to bear a house full of children. Anyways, Ron's…partner.
I adore Brandon. I love his American accent and his brash, sometimes flamboyant ways. He has a fantastic sense of humour and he keeps Ron's temper in check. It took the rest of the family a long time to adore him as much as I do. Of course, Hermione and Harry were both supportive, but my mum barred Ron from bringing Brandon to any holiday gatherings. Ron threw it in her face and stayed in America for eight years before she relented and welcomed Brandon into the family. I think she finally sees how well they work together, even though Ron's coming out was a shock. I admit I was surprised. He always seemed so macho and into women. He dated several girls at Hogwarts, but he once told me that he never felt whole with them. Brandon was his first boyfriend and according to Ron, his last.
'Mummy!'
Ah, one of the picture perfect children. Mia. My darling little niece. She has fine blond hair that's almost blinding in the sun. Of course, it's also curly, which seems so strange. It tangles incessantly and Hermione has completely given up on ever taming it. Mia fusses over her hair occasionally, having been properly spoiled by her paternal grandmother. Other times, she can't be bothered. She's been reading since she was three and even when the others are playing in the garden, she has her nose stuck in a book.
'Mummy! Mummy!'
'Mia, what did mummy tell you about interrupting?'
Interrupting?
'Sorry, Mum.' Her answer was generic and automatic.
'Uncle Harry is talking about school and you interrupted him.'
Oops.
'Sorry, Harry. Can I talk now Mum?'
'May you…'
'Hermione, let the child talk.'
I stifle a giggle as Draco rolls his eyes at his wife.
'Abby says you turned into a cat when you were twelve.'
I giggle again, this time aloud.
'Abby doesn't know what she's saying.'
'But she—'
'Princess, come here.' Draco calls Mia over, who quickly forgets the subject at hand and bounces into her father's lap. I shake my head at him and he gives me a secret smile over his daughter's head. Abby is my daughter and she is forever pestering her older cousin. Sam, our son, usually is off playing a pick-up game of rugby with George's five boys. They never let Abby play.
A head of dark hair enters my vision and I see my daughter tear into the garden. She's carrying a large, white ball and being chased by three blond boys.
'Abby!'
Harry jumps up from his chair and runs to catch her. She giggles as he swings her up onto his shoulders, clutching the rugby ball from the boys' game. He shushes her, motioning to the sleeping Riley and Dylan. Dylan is Ron and Brandon's adopted son. He's only four months old, but already, I feel like he's just another member of the family. Riley is my last child; I swear I won't have another one.
As Harry settles Abby on his lap to join his conversation, he catches my gaze and grins at me. Hermione is talking about some program at work and rubbing her very pregnant belly. I smile to Harry as I watch them all, carrying on and laughing together. I feel home here, more than I ever did at the Burrow. It's rare that we're all together like this and I treasure every moment of it.
'Hey Gin?'
I turn to look at Ron, who is peering at Riley.
'Hm?' I look towards my daughter.
'Is that red hair she has?'