Harry Potter and the Heir Apparent
"If you continue striving for perfection, though you will never reach it, you will always better the person you are. And you never know, you may save someone's life in the process…"
-HP and the Eighth Year – "Afterword"
Platform 9 and 3/4
There they were. Six people who had just said farewell to three family members. On the left, a little farther away from the now speeding train, was a tall, red-haired man holding his wife's hand. She had bushy, yet strangely elegant-looking, brown hair which she had genetically given to their son, who was returning from the edge of the platform himself, having bid farewell to his older sister. She pushed up her glasses and took the little boy into her arms before looking at another couple to their right. Farther down the platform, was a shorter, beautiful red-haired woman, who was holding hands with her young daughter, who had also inherited her mother's hair. She was definitely the spunky one of the group, as she was hopping up and down in feigned disgust. She wished so deeply that she was on that train, and the mother could not help but smile at her own experiences on this platform. Farther still from them was her husband. A man with raven-black hair and emerald- green eyes. He hadn't realized that his feet had carried him slowly down the platform as he waved goodbye to his two sons, one of whom would shortly be sorted. Harry Potter gathered himself, though, and returned to his family.
As Harry and Ginny led Lily away from the remnants of smoke created by the scarlet steam engine carrying away their two sons, Albus and James, they saw that another family was doing the same. Ron and Hermione were walking on either side of Hugo, raising him into the air slightly with every longer step they took. The youngest Weasley was whooping a little louder than he would if his older sister and cousins had been watching, but now that he was surrounded by family (who didn't mind if he was "uncool") he allowed his childish behavior to flourish.
"We were thinking about grabbing a pint…" Ron began.
"We?" Hermione added.
"Oh, come on, Herms, Harry and I rarely get days off from work as it is. This would be a great chance to sit down and talk."
"That's a great idea!" Ginny agreed. Harry took the moment, as he always did, to admire his wife of over eighteen years. She was still the world's most beautiful paradox: gracious yet fiery, comforting yet strong, and he almost forgot that he should throw in his opinion, before she thought that he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying.
"I agree. It would be fun." He paused to look down at his daughter. "Lily, can we trust you to take care of Hugo for an hour or two back at home while the old folks catch up?"
"Harry!" Hermione retorted quickly, before she saw the smile in his face. Harry assumed she was disappointed that he thought Hugo needed supervision and Lily was capable of it. "Oh."
"Sure, Dad. It'll be fun to have the house to myself without the stupid brothers for once." Harry and Ginny howled while Ron and Hermione made sure that this comment was a joke before joining in on the laughter.
"Ok, well, let's find a Floo grate for the two of you, ok?"
"Ok!" Lily seemed excited all of a sudden, much more so than earlier when she was openly lamenting the fact that she was still two years away from going to Hogwarts herself, an agony she shared with Hugo. However, and to be expected, she had matured faster than her male Weasley counterpart, and therefore, cared much more about school than a boy who stilled zoomed around the Weasley's yard on a child's broomstick for hours each day.
After reentering King's Cross, and taking their cars only a few blocks to a known wizarding retail shop, the families utilized their fireplace to send their children back to Godric's Hollow before heading to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had suggested a quieter place, but as they had done for the last eighteen years, his wife and best friends reminded him that everyday that people saw him out was another day that the annoying mystique would slowly fade away, though never disappearing completely.
Harry still felt strange coming in here, though. He was greeted by Mike, the son of the late Tom, who used to own the pub, and given his usual butterbeer. In that very instant, his mind travelled back in time, as it had a tendency to do…
"I'll take two butterbeers, please." The nineteen-year old Harry Potter asked.
As Tom was reaching behind him, Ron interjected, "WHAT? Get a Firewhiskey! We're not in school anymore, we're adults!"
"Seriously, Tom, a butterbeer is fine."
"Here you go, Mr. Potter." The barman replied, handing him his drink.
"See? MR. Potter."
"Listen, Ron, I just don't like to drink a lot unless I'm at home and Ginny is the only other person there."
"Suit yourself. But you know that tonight is going to test you! They gave basically everyone in Britain the entire week off for the anniversary of You-Know-Who going down. Everyone is going to want to party!"
"There ya go! I should pace myself for the long week." He said with a dry sarcastic note.
"Fine." Ron walked off with two stiffer drinks for he and his wife while Ginny came up to grab her own beverage.
"You ok?" She asked, rubbing his back.
"Yeah. It's just Ron, he acts like this anniversary is something I should celebrate, and it's just still something I would rather forget."
"I know sweetie."
"Don't get me wrong, I hope EVERYONE celebrates it magnificently, but it's just not for me." He looked down at his drink. "Oh why did I even agree to this? I'd rather be working on the house, or actually getting a job!"
His flashback had taken him all the way to 'their' table in the corner where he joined his wife, Ron, and Hermione. They all looked at him momentarily, though he didn't notice, and then Ron took the conversation to a place he was obviously planning from the start. "Ok, so this may sound random, but…" No one believed that it was. "…I was thinking that we could get our office involved with Hermione's work at the Confederation, and really get a larger number of magical creatures involved in everyday defense. I mean, at the very least, it would make our jobs a hell of a lot easier."
"Language…" Hermione quietly whispered.
"The kids aren't around." Ron answered in his normal tone.
"I think it's a fabulous idea. What do you think Ginny?" Hermione returned to the conversation at hand.
"Hey, things at St. Mungo's are hard enough. I'm actually glad our jobs don't conflict too much, except when you have to send your injured people our way."
Harry smiled again. She had risen through the ranks so quickly, they always joked that she would certainly have her own portrait hanging in the hospital's walls and most likely have a ward named after her once she cured her third or fourth 'incurable' disease. His wife was amazing. The way she juggled work and home…
"Harry?" Ron asked.
"I think it's good, too." He regrouped to continue. "However, it would be nice if we had an organized thought process and possibly a timetable of events down on paper this time. Some of our ideas in the past have been held up by bureaucratic nonsense."
"Oh, yeah yeah! No, this time will be different, I promise." The rest of them hid their sniggers. "I'll even have someone at the Ministry um, what do you call it, draft the thing for me!" With that, laughter and storytelling descended upon the group, and once again, Harry Potter felt like everything was going to be ok. It was a feeling that had gradually built since the day Wulfric Speer had died.
A/N: Ok, short chapter, but I just wanted to get everything going again. I'm going to "kill two birds with one stone" by using flashbacks to take all of us through the now 18-year gap while telling a story post-epilogue at the same time (should be fun!). As always, and you know how much I appreciate them, review as harshly or kindly as you wish. It's good to be writing again…