For my bby Jesse.

It took me ages to figure out the ages for this. So... Seamus and Harry and the others are 42, Ginny is 41, Hugo and Lily are 15, Rose and Albus are 17, I think James is 18, Scorpius is 17... It's twenty five years after the Battle, so six years after the epilogue. Or something. I don't know. Whatever. Enjoy.

(I'm so eloquent, can't you tell?)

Reviews and whatnot always appreciated.


The sun set on the Black Lake at Hogwarts, basking the people gathered on its shore in a beautiful orange and setting the Forbidden Forest aflame with colour. It was the 25th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and hundreds of wizards and witches from all over Britain had come to hear the things Harry Potter and others had to say about the war. They sat on white chairs, now turned pink by the setting sun, and listened to their saviours speak to them for the first time in twenty five years. Harry had delivered a moving and evocative speech, and so had Hermione Granger, Kingsley Shacklebolt (the Minister for Magic) and even Neville Longbottom, an unsung hero. People all around were crying and the absence of Hagrid's noisy tears was felt by everyone. He'd died happily earlier this year of old age, Madame Mazime faithfully by his side. She was here now, sniffing loudly into a large lace handkerchief.

Seamus had come too, like nearly everyone else who had ties to the Battle, and was sitting in a hard plastic chair next to Dean. They had gotten married 16 years ago last week, and held each other's hands as Minister Shacklebolt read off the names of those lost so long ago. Both Irishman and artist fought back tears as they heard 'Colin Creevey,' then later 'Aileen Finnigan' followed by 'and her Muggle husband, John Finnigan.' The list went on; it seemed to go forever. Every time someone burst into tears at the sound of their loved one's name, Dean squeezed Seamus' hands tighter still. When they heard the last name, 'Fred Weasley,' no one held back their sorrow. Seamus couldn't help but cry a little and neither could Dean. They didn't listen to the end of the heartfelt speech but when it was over, it seemed everybody's, even Goyle and Percy's, eyes were red and shining. Dean and Seamus stood up like everyone else and clapped; the noise of hundreds of people crying and applauding was almost deafeningly loud.

After everybody had their coats on and started to leave, Dean turned to look down at his husband's tear-stained face.

'Are we going to Harry and Ginny's?' he asked over the din of five hundred witches and wizards Disapparating.

'If you want,' said Seamus as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Dean nodded and grabbed Seamus' hand, so small compared to his. Harry and company seemed to have already left, and Seamus couldn't blame them. The reporters must be like moths swarming around a light in the dark. Sea was glad he'd never been thrust into the public eye like his friends had.

They Apparated to Harry and Ginny's lovely country house, grateful to be away from the crowd and noise. Seamus led the way to the familiar door and knocked, not bothering to wait for an answer. Entering the house, they saw that it was already filled with people. Harry and Ginny and their three children, now adults or nearing 17, were sitting in the cozy living room. With them were Hugo and Rose, Ron and Hermione's young redheads. Their parents' voices were heard emanating from the kitchen. He also spotted Neville and his wife Hannah, as well as George and Angelina. Seamus remembered that since the Battle, May 2nd and 3rd had been declared as holidays.

'Hello!' Dean called out after taking his shoes off and depositing his coat on a bench already piled high with sweaters and jackets. Seamus did the same and followed the tall black man into the living room where everyone was talking quietly, still in a somber mood.

'Hi guys. Here, take a seat,' Ginny said, waving towards a free loveseat. The men took it and arranged themselves comfortably, with Dean's arms wrapped tightly around Seamus' shoulders. Everyone was in a circle around the crackling fire; though it was spring, the air was still chilly, especially in an old english farmhouse such as this.

The conversation floated freely from one subject to another, avoiding the topic of the Battle and the long list of names they'd all heard less than an hour ago. It wasn't like they hadn't known it was coming; Kingsley had warned them. But even after twenty five years, it was still a shock to hear name after name—friend after friend—recited like some sort of horrible, sad poem. The people gathered at the Potters' laughed a little and chatted, but it was the clear the speeches and names were still fresh and heavy in their minds.

Just before supper, Teddy and Victoire joined them, She was round with child and immediately assaulted with 'Congratulations!'s and 'Happy birthday!'s. Bill and Fleur arrived later too, as well as Louis and Gabrielle, their other children. Percy and his wife Audrey made an appearance, with them their daughters Lucy and Molly, but they didn't stay to eat. Soon, everyone moved to the thankfully big kitchen, smelling the delicious aromas of supper.

'Ive never seen so much red hair,' Dean commented once the large group of friends had been seated around the magically enlarged table and began eating. His brown eyes were wide at the sight of all the birght oranger heads. Seamus and Neville both nodded vigorously. Ron only laughed.

'You should see a Weasley family reunion,' Hugo said, chuckling.

'It's overwhelming.' Angelina shook her head exasperatedly as she said it, earning her a playful swat from George.

'I'm sure it is. I'd say all family reunions are,' said Neville with a small smile on his ever-young face.

'You should all come to my next one,' Seamus said as he took another big bite of chicken.

'The last time I went, I had a headache for days afterward,' Dean interjected.

'How come?' someone asked. Harry, maybe.

'You know how fast Seamus talks when he's excited? And how you can barely understand him because of the accent?' Everyone nodded knowingly, some rolling their eyes. Seamus furrowed his brow, pouting. 'Imagine a hundred Seamuses. Together. All talking excitedly at the same time.' Most seated around the table cringed.

'Suddenly,' Victoire said, her long blonde hair rippling as she laughed, 'a million redheads doesn't seem so bad.'

'I resent that! Besides, that one wasn't that bad compared to the one we had when Mam was around. She could talk the ear off a deaf man,' Seamus said. The friends became silent, which was strange for the amount of people in the room. Seamus counted quickly. 20.

Suddenly, Dean raised his glass.

'To John and Aileen,' he said before taking a sip.

'To Colin,' Ginny murmured, doing the same.

'To Moody,' Neville said.

'To Fred,' from George.

'To Mum and Dad,' said Teddy.

'To my sister Gwen,' added Hannah, taking a big gulp of wine.

'To Dobby,' said Hermione.

'To Severus Snape,' Harry said as he raised his glass.

'To Professor Burbage,' said Angelina, who had always been Charity Burbage's favourite student.

'To Albus Dumbledore,' loudly, from Ron.

'And to everyone else,' Seamus finished sadly, setting his drained glass down and pushing away his empty plate. People started talking again, quietly now, melancholically. After migrating to the living room, Seamus looked at Dean, signaling with a small nod that it was time to go. He couldn't stand to be around people for much longer; he wanted to mourn at home, with Dean. He made to stand up and thank his hosts, but before he could, a tall red headed boy came into view, looking at him intently. Hugo, Ron and Hermione's 15-year-old son, was waving his hand at him discreetly from the hall, motioning for Seamus to follow. Having noticed, Dean shot a quizzical look at his husband, but Seamus just shrugged and stood up to go with Hugo.

'Bathroom,' he muttered in answer to Hermione's questioning eyes before following the young Weasley down the corridor. He was led into a small, dark room, and judging by the huge amount of Quidditch paraphernelia and Slytherin wall hangings, it was Lily Luna's. Seamus sat on the bed, observing his surroundings. There was clothes strewn everywhere (originating from a large trunk at the foot of the bed), a few books on wooden shelves and Weird Sisters posters covering the walls—it seemed Harry and Ginny's daughter had a penchante for old music. Hugo didn't sit down, but stood fidgeting nervously in front of Seamus.

'What can I do for you?' Seamus asked, a small smile gracing his face. He very much liked Hugo; the boy was almost like a nephew to he and Dean.

'Uh, I need advice.' Hugo ran a freckled hand through his very orange hair and shifted from foot to foot.

'Okay, but why ask me? Why not your parents?' Seamus asked, confused but always willing to help.

'Mum is too busy with work and Dad… well, Dad is Dad. You seem like the best person to ask.'

Seamus raised an eyebrow. 'Okay, go.'

'I… How long have you and Dean been together?'

'Officially, since we were 16. Why?' What an odd question to ask. Anyone could have answered that, Seamus thought. It wasn't exactly a secret.

'Did you always know you were…' Hugo took a deep breath. '… gay?' he finished in a whisper. Seamus chuckled.

'I did. Dean didn't. Well, he knew I was, but he had a few girlfriends before me. Your aunt Ginny, for example.' He smiled at the night when Ginny and Dean broke up. It was the night their relationship really began. 'What's this about? Are you…? Oh! You are!'

Hugo lowered his eyes, shrugging and putting his hands in his pockets. 'I think so,' he said quietly.

'Then you're right. Ron wouldn't understand.' The Weasley shook his head. 'So… what's the problem?' Hugo walked towards the bed and sat down next to Seamus dejectedly.

'There are two.'

'Two problems?'

Hugo nodded. 'I don't know… hot to come out…' he said, almost miserably.

'Ah! Well, I don't know much about that. See, I never had to; everyone just knew. Dean told his family he was with me at the age of 18 and that was the end of that. There were still people who insulted us, you know, but after a while most just accepted it. Although back then. People weren't as understanding as they are now.'

'Still…'

'Tell your sister and cousins first. I know the Potters are as good as siblings to you. Then tell your parents. Hermione will be okay with it for sure, and Ron too, though it might take him a while. He won't get it, but he'll accept it. You don't have to announce it to the world. It's not a big deal.'

'I think Lily already knows,' Hugo said, looking arounf his cousin's room. Seamus smiled.

'Just tell them. The longer you wait, the harder it'll be. You're a Gryffindor, right? Be brave.' Seamus wrapped his arm around the young boy, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. 'What's the other problem?'

'I have a crush,' Hugo said quietly, leaning into Seamus.

'Ooh! Who?'

Hugo mumbled something unintelligible.

'Huh?'

'Scorpius Malfoy,' he said, louder this time, but still embarassed. Seamus' eyes widened. He didn't know what to say.

'Well… If he looks anything like his father did at school, he must be very fit.'

Hugo snorted dryly. 'Yeah, he's hot alright. And two years older than me. And Lily's best friend.'

'Hm. Oh, I don't know what to tell you. Is he taken?'

'No. Straight, though.'

'And to everyone else, so are you. That doesn't mean anything. It seems the last time I saw him my gaydar beeped a little.' Seamus chuckled.

'Your what?'

'Gay radar? No? I guess it's just a Muggle thing. Dean's family, you know. Nevermiond.'

Hugo raised his head and cocked a single fair eyebrow at the short man beside him.

'Tell Lily,' Seamus said quickly.

'I will tonight,' Hugo declared with conviction. He stood up abruptly, then sighed. Seamus stood too, pulling the young Gryffindor into a warm, reassuring hug.

'Thanks, Sea,' Hugo murmured into Seamus' hair.

'Anytime. Jesus Murphy, when did you get so tall?' Seamus exclaimed, holding the redhead at arm's length and looking him up and down.

'You're just really short,' Hugo said. He laughed.

'Ugh, don't rub it in. And I stopped growing more than a couple decades ago. Come on, let's go. Dean and I are going to go home.'

'Awh, why?' They made their way out of the room and down the narrow corridor to the center of the house. It seemed Neville and Hannah had left and so had Victoire and Teddy. George and Angelina were preparing to go too.

'There's only so much red hair a man can take before going insane,' Seamus said, laughing loudly. They entered the much emptier room and Dean spotted his smiling husband.

'Ready to go?' the artist said, grabbing Seamus' hand to pull himself up.

'You're so short and Dean is so tall, Sea,' Hugo said. Seamus pushed him away and rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning widely.

'Yeah. Let's go before this guy comes up with new things to say about my height.' Seamus rached up to ruffle Hugo's hair fondly. 'Dean, remind me to feed the cat.' He waved to the families still sitting and thanked their hosts for the company and food; it had really been delicious. It seemed Ginny had inherited her mother's cooking skills. The husbands Disapparated to the sound of 'See you!'s.

Once home, they took off their jackets and shoes, fed their little grey tabby and made their way to the bedroom. It wasn't late, only nine o'clock, but the men were tired. It was a sad kind of exhaustion, like when you spend all day crying, even though they hadn't. They undressed and got into their warm and comfortable bed, Seamus sighing.

'Twenty five years is a long time,' Dean murmured as he wrapped his strong arms around Seamus' waist.

'It goes by fast,' said Seamus, nestling into his husband.

'Yeah. What did Hugo want?'

'Advice on how to come out, imagine that!'

Dean laughed into Seamus' hair. 'And he asked you of all people? The most flamboyant little gay Irishman that ever was? You came out when you were 3!'

'Watch it, artist! Anyway, he wasn't about to ask Ron or Harry. I think he'll be okay though. He's smart.'

'Got the best of both Ron and Hermione, lucky kid.'

'Mm, yeah.' Seamus turned his head to receive a small but sweet kiss from Dean. Ever since that horrible year when Dean had been absent from Seamus's life, he always tried to kiss him before falling asleep. A small gesture, but it was Dean's way of making up for lost time, even twenty five years later.

'Goodnight, Dean.'

'Goodnight, love.'

And they fell asleep, dreaming of red hair and Irish accent, of drinking pumpkin juice in the Great Hall and green paint splattering roughly on canvas. Seamus dreamed of his parents and the other who had bravely and valiantly lost thei lives during the war. No one was going to forget them, and Seamus knew that in another twenty five years th Battle would still be as fresh in his mind as it had been when it happened. The wounds created then would always be there, never healing completely, but that was okay. Without them, they would forget and to forget would be horrible; no one wanted to let Fred and Moody and everybody else die in vain. But life went on. Hugo had showed Seamus that tonight. Life went on, and in some ways, it was better than before.