A/N: Ah! Thanks for the reviews, you guys! Funny story: someone left a negative anon review on the last chapter of Devil's Backbone... Like they read all 41 chapters just to let me know "your story is bad." My roommate and I have been laughing all day!

Anyway, I hope that this chapter lives up to expectations. My roommate is sort of acting as an almost-beta... So we'll see how this goes.

Lots of love!


July 2nd, 2000

"He's drunk," Lucy said as she leaned against the door she'd slammed shut moments before and stared at her older cousin in his dress shirt with his bowtie undone. Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He looked handsome, cleaned up, and more nervous than he'd been on his walk to death two years previous.

"Started early, then?" Harry replied as he struggled to tie it up.

"Let me," Lucy pushed herself off the door and glided over to him in her bridesmaid dress. Her deep maroon, floor length skirt swished around her feet like moving water and her bare shoulders looked startlingly pale against the dark straps. Her fingers deftly moved to do up Harry's bowtie as she had done for his ringbearers, Castor and Leo. "He's always drunk. You know that."

"I was just hoping he might make an effort for today," Harry sighed as Lucy straightened out his lapels and pat his shoulders. "How many times does your godson get married?"

"Depends on how well he treats my sister," Ron poked his head in the door with a wide grin across his face. "'Mione's looking for you, Luce. Said she wanted to talk to you about something important... Something dragon related."

"I already told her I'm not going," Lucy grumbled.

"And we've all already told you you were daft, but I think you're going to want to hear whatever it is she has to say," Ron replied. He winked at Harry and Lucy let out an over dramatic sigh as she pushed past him. Jules wouldn't have made her go. Jules would have wanted her to stay home with the twins. After all, what kind of big sister would she be if she abandoned two four year old boys with their drunk father?

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. By the time she made her way into the kitchen, Lucy was fuming with rage. How dare anyone suggest she leave Cas and Leo?

"Hermione, I already told you, I'm not bloody well going to Bosnia to work with Sca-" Lucy froze in her place as she stood in the doorway. Standing next to a rather excited Hermione was a young man with shaggy blonde hair and tanned skin with deep blue eyes. He had an eyebrow piercing and several tattoos that peaked out of his sleeves and collar.

"You must be Lucy," The young man said as he held out his hand to her. "I'm Rolf. Rolf Scamander. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Bloody hell," Lucy breathed as she shook his hand. "Scamander? As in... Newt Scamander is-"

"My grandfather," Rolf said. "In fact, he sent me here... He's busy with a colony of Welsh Greens right now, so he couldn't make the time to see you, but Charlie told us that it might be beneficial to meet you in person..."

"This is a private family event," Lucy squeaked.

"And I was invited," Rolf grinned at her. Throughout his entire speech about how much Lucy was wanted on their study, his smile only faltered when she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Tears stung her eyes, she struggled to catch her breath, and she locked herself into a room where George was still struggling to do up his bowtie without a mirror. He hadn't looked in one for two years.

"What's up, Lucy?" George turned to face her as she convulsed.

"Th-they... Th-they want me to g-go," She hyperventilated. "H-how do I... How do I leave?"

"Goose," George softened, his bowtie dropping to the floor. "Shh... Shh... It's alright." It wasn't, he knew that.

He wandered over and put his arms around her, pulling the young girl - woman - into his arms. Fred had always been better at comforting her, but George had tried his best to step up to the plate. After all, she had lost every stable figure in her life during the war, and George had lost Fred.


June 30th, 2009

Lucy almost ran right back out of Ginny and Harry's house as she saw forty faces grinning and cheering at her. Across the top of them was a hand-painted banner that the twins had made that read Welcome home, loser! What startled Lucy the most was how pregnant Ginny looked, how fresh Hermione's baby girl looked, the toddlers running around their parents, and the married couples. So many married couples.

"Surprise!"

"Don't be cross," Harry whispered in Lucy's ear as his grip on her shoulder became firmer. "We felt bad for not being there with bubbly when you won your Order of Merlin, so-"

"Bloody hell," Lucy breathed deeply. "You couldn't have saved this for like... I dunno, a time where I have properly reintegrated into society?!"

"Smile," Ginny grinned at her. "C'mon... They're all your favourite people..."

"Lucy!" Castor and Leo leapt onto her first. Their arms squeezed around her like cobras and she felt her lips curl into a smile for the first time as she took a step back to look at the twelve year olds.

"Bloody hell, you two," She grinned. "You're as tall as I am! How is that fair?"

"Dunno," Cas shrugged with a mirrored crooked grin on his face.

"Guess we just take after dad more than you," Leo finished. Lucy forced herself to laugh heartily at them as she ruffled their hair and planted sloppy kisses on each of their cheeks. They knew as well as she how little she wanted to be surrounded by them.

"Tante Lucy!" Victoire, at age nine, came running over to throw her arms around Lucy's waist. Her blonde hair was tied back in a high ponytail. She was every inch her mother's daughter, except for the distinct Weasley freckles. "What does the moon tattoo look like now?"

Lucy pushed up the sleeve on her worn cardigan to reveal a perfect waned crescent moon.

"TEDDY! Teddy, look, see. I told you... I told you, le tattouage - er, the tattoo. It changes sa forme..." Victoire grinned at the eleven year old who had taken to sporting disheveled black curls so he fit in with Cas and Leo. He frowned. In a moment his arm was sporting a matching tattoo. Lucy laughed and hugged the biological son of the man she'd considered to be her father for a solid portion of her life.

In fact, as the party continued, the children seemed more interested in her than many of the adults. An hour had passed and she was still surrounded by four year old James and Hugo looking up at her from the floor where they had stopped fidgeting just long enough to demand more stories with Louis and Dominique sitting in between them. Lucy had been so caught up in telling stories that she hadn't noticed the sets of eyes that drifted over to her as her hands and scars told animated stories they could only dream of.

"And then the biggest dragon realized that she had an advantage," Lucy said. She slowly lifted her feet off the floor, until she was crouching on Ginny's sofa, worn leather boots and all. "She turned her head," Lucy mimed the action, "And breathed the hottest fire I've ever felt... If it hadn't been for your uncle Charlie, I wouldn't have made it out alive!"

"What did you do then, Uncle Lucy?" James asked. His soft brown eyes were wide and his jaw hung slack in awe.

"It's Aunt Lucy, doofus," Hugo frowned and shoved James hard.

"No, she's not my dad's sister, so she's got to be an uncle," James shoved Hugo back. At four, their shoves didn't do much damage. If anything

"Oi, you two," Lucy folded her arms across her chest and stood up on the sofa, frowning down at them. "D'you want to hear what happened when I faced a Hungarian Horntail, or would you rather I get James's dad to tell his boring story?"

"It's not boring!" Harry protested from across the room. "I was in the Triwizard Tournament!"

Lucy tossed a look over her shoulder and grinned at her elder cousin wickedly.

"It's a little boring when you've heard it a million times," she teased. "And when you were there to see it-"

"You were there to see it?!" The children in front of her gasped. "See, I told you Uncle Lucy was my coolest Uncle," James said proudly.

"Oi!" Ron folded his arms. "I work at your favourite shop."

"I created your favourite shop," a new voice said from the front door. Lucy's head flipped from one side of the room to the other so quickly that she nearly lost her balance on the soft sofa. Clambering over children, sofas and people, Lucy threw her arms around George Weasley, who was smiling, genuinely.

"Welcome home," He whispered into her ear. "You bloody fool."

"You're the one grinning like an idiot," Lucy laughed. "Oh, bloody hell, it's good to see you! What's this I hear about a runaway marriage?"

"Didn't feel like the pomp and circumstance of a proper Weasley wedding," George smiled at her as she pulled away and smacked his shoulder playfully. Every inch of her was older, harder, more sinewy than he'd ever seen her.

"So where's the wife?" Lucy asked giddly. "And the kidlets? C'mon, I want at least eighteen infants calling me Uncle before the day is through."


July 2nd, 2000

"You may kiss the bride."

Only Harry Potter's wedding could gather this much attention, Lucy thought as she stood next to Ginny at the altar as camera flashes temporarily illuminating the backs of the audience. Rita Skeeter was here. Half of Europe's wizarding gossip columns had sent correspondents to write articles about Ginny's dress, but they'd all been kept at bay by an enchanted red rope. The last wedding she went to was nothing like this. It was not glamorous, but instead just a tight knit family group. Lucy's eyes searched the crowd for familiar faces. She found Neville, beside his nan, smiling at her encouragingly. Lucy smiled back, but it faltered as his eyes drifted to her drunk father. Drunk. Again.

Her mind drifted from the people trying to catch glimpses of her family to the folded up piece of parchment on her dressing table. Her passion and intelligence had intrigued Newt Scamander so much that Rolf Scamander was watching her anxiously from the chairs in front of the altar.

Ginny and Harry were kissing. Molly was weeping. Hermione was cheering beside her, but Castor and Leo, who had been ring bearers, looked like they might cry from the noise as they hid behind Lucy's skirt. She understood. She didn't like this wedding as much as she thought she would. There was an empty seat beside her father that made the emptiness of the flask in his hand sting her eyes and her heart.


June 30th, 2009

Albus Severus Potter had decided he liked Uncle, Tante, Auntie, or just plain Lucy better than he liked his other grown up relatives. As he leaned his chubby cheek on her shoulder, he felt completely contented to listen to her gravelly voice speak in soft tones to other people congratulating her on something she'd won. Albus had won a gobstone from James once, until he stuck it up his nose and Mummy had gotten cross.

"You still awake, Al?" Lucy said, her weight still swaying from side to side in a motion that calmed the toddler just like it had calmed fresh dragon hatchlings. Rolf and Luna beamed at her from their spot in front of her as the miniature-Harry nodded.

"Rule one," Rolf said softly to Luna as she smiled with her ever-wondering face. "All infants are the same. Lucy used to rock back and forth with Romanian Longhorns fresh from eggs."

"That explains why her shoulders are so burned... Here I was blaming snorkacks..." Luna turned to look at her husband with a wry smile. "It's no wonder you two have so many tattoos..." Her finger grazed over the radish he'd gotten on his wrist.

"I thought snorkacks were native to Sweden," Rolf said gently as he leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips.

Lucy smiled. They were still so in love, even after they had honeymooned around Scandinavia searching for objects and creatures together. Luna's naturalist career path was everything Rolf had dreamed of doing with a wife. It was almost sickly sweet. The doorbell rung once more, but she was too busy admiring the love that Rolf and Luna had for one another to notice, or mind.

"Sorry we're so late," a musical, clear voice said to whomever had answered the door behind her. "We got stuck in Floo traffic again. I mean, honestly, Percy, is there nothing you can do about it? We ended up next door!"

"Sorry, Hannah," Percy said diplomatically. "We try our best, you know..."

"Oh, I know, love! Only joking..."

Lucy turned to see the blonde in the doorway with a bright smile on her face as she embraced Ginny, Percy and Harry in turn before doing the rounds to Hermione and Ron. Behind her, Neville Longbottom stepped in the door. His dark brown hair was shorter than it had been the last time she'd seen him. His face had a few lines around the eyes, and his smile lines were deeper, but he was still Neville, with his soft green-gold eyes and boyish smile.

"Hi Gin, Harry..." Neville embraced Lucy's cousin and kissed Ginny on the cheek. He looked around the room before his eyes met with Lucy's briefly. Her breath caught in her throat. Shit. The letters between them, and the friendship, had stopped abruptly three years ago. She knew why. Of course, she knew why. It had been her fault. It was always her fault.

"It should have been you!"

For the first time in her life, staring at Neville as he greeted her family, her friends, and even her brothers - he taught them at Hogwarts! Naturally, he had a better relationship with them than she did; he was the better person - Lucy agreed with her father's angry, drunken slurs all those years ago.

"Where is she?" Hannah Abbott's voice brought her back from the brink. "Where's the queen of the hour?"

"Oh, she's with Albus," Ginny smiled warmly as she looked over at Lucy. Her jaw still hung open.

Had she been a properly socialized human, Lucy would have forced herself to smile. Instead, her mouth stayed slightly agape until Castor waved his hands from behind Hannah and Neville and Leo mimed picking her jaw up off the floor. Noticing her thirteen year old brothers' social cues, she snapped her mouth shut. That warranted a thumbs up from Cas, but Leo stretched his lips into a wide smile and waved his hands at her. She couldn't manage that. It was asking simply too much.


July 2nd, 2000

Lucy stood just behind an ice sculpture, avoiding Rita Skeeter, as she tried to enchant her father's champagne flute from alcohol to water. She'd accidentally missed and hit Teddy's sippy goblet instead. She was so enthralled in what she was doing, she hadn't noticed the acid green quill float up behind her until she heard the scraping of ink against parchment. She turned around, wand out, and stared at the terrible blonde woman.

"Lucy Potter-Black, age fifteen, looks just as grief-stricken as she did at the Second Wizarding War Memorial service while she tries to enchant goblets of water into wine to appease her drunk felon father... Ginny Weasley has chosen a gown in an obscene colour of-"

"I'm 18!" Lucy snapped. "It's not an obscene colour! It's maroon, and I look bloody delightful, not melancholy!"

"Lucy Potter-Black, age 18, is snappy with jealousy as she eyes the ice sculpture, wand in hand- is it grief, or insanity that has driven her to this point of envy? Does she fear ending up alone while her famous cousin gets the glory and the girl? Is it genetic? Does she take after her late, but undeniably mad, mother, or the werewolf she lived with? Or perhaps her alcoholic fath-"

Lucy lunged forward, dropping her wand out of rage before she could think as her nails reached desperately for Rita Skeeter's smug face. Rita stepped back, startled at the anger that coursed through the young woman in front of her.

"DON'T. TALK. ABOUT. MY MOTHER!"

Lucy was restrained by two pairs of arms that struggled to keep her at bay. The music reached its crescendo in the reception and people had started to stare as Harry and Neville fought against her.

"Luce, c'mon," Neville said carefully. "Don't let her get to you-"

"GET OFF ME! GET OFF! I'll kill her! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU WRETCHED COW!"

"I think it's best if you leave," Harry said sharply. She stared at the two young men with a sickening smile that showed exactly how much of a cougar she truly was under her beetle-animagus form.

"If you insist," Rita crooned. "It's a shame about her..."

"Perhaps you didn't quite hear him," Rolf Scamander had stood up and was towering over Rita from behind. His voice was as calm as the sea before a storm. "The groom asked you to leave."

Neville had wrapped his arms tightly around Lucy's waist and arms. Harry's hand was on his wand, just tucked under the belt of his dress robes. The music had halted. All eyes were on them as Lucy slowly lowered her feet back to the floor. Neville's grip slackened and she straightened out her dress. The quill hovered in the air for a moment before feverishly daring to dart back to the paper. It scribbled for a moment before a flash of light hit it and it exploded along with the pad.

"Out! Get out."

All eyes turned to Ginny. In her white gown, she looked like an archangel, but they all knew exactly how much more dangerous she was.

"Now. Get out. Now. I'll buy you a new bloody quicknote quill, you bitch. Now get out of my wedding!"

Rita stared around for a moment and then turned on her heel to leave.

Ginny looked around at the guests, smiled, and then waved her hand to summon the music once more. As soon as she had, Harry kissed Lucy on the temple, shook Rolf's hand and clapped Neville on the shoulder before going to snog his wife senseless. He loved it when she was fearless.

Lucy stood trembling a little still. She wiped at her eyes absentmindedly and swallowed the lump in her throat. She nodded at Rolf, who gave a little bow before turning back to the conversation he'd been having with a radish earring wearing Luna Lovegood. Neville hovered for a moment more.

"You alright?" He asked as Lucy straightened out her maroon dress. She glanced up at him, and didn't say anything. She didn't have to. "Stupid question... Er, let's try that again, shall we?" He offered a hand out to her. "My nan has some pretty strong opinions on dancing... One of which includes the fact that she hasn't seen you genuinely smile since we danced at your parents' wedding..."

Lucy's lips tugged at the corners and she gratefully took his hand.

"One might argue that I haven't had reason to smile since then," Lucy replied as they fell instep to the music that had once again distracted all wedding guests from anyone who might be threatening to murder a Daily Prophet journalist at a wedding.

"One might say that's a bleeding shame," Neville smiled.

They fell into step together, like old friends often do, and with every turn and twist, Lucy was reminded of the awkward boy who had smiled at her boyishly. That awkward, bumbling boy had told her she was every bit as important as the chosen one when it seemed no one else in the world thought so. She'd seen him grow from that boy to the young man who had run Dumbledore's Army while Harry searched for Horcruxes. He'd helped her fix her stolen motorcycle so she could go into hiding properly. He'd been the bravest, in her eyes, and the kindest. Neville, Lucy realized as they danced and laughed together at the fact she'd just threatened to murder Rita Skeeter at a wedding, was the most decent young man she knew.

"So I hear you're going to Romania," Neville finally said as the music slowed and they swapped spinning for swaying.

"Is that what they're telling people?" Lucy rolled her eyes. "No, I mean... I've been offered this opportunity," Her eyes drifted to where Luna and Rolf were practically shouting at each other over Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. "But... I..."

"Lucy," Neville made her look him in the eye. "I know Scamander's offered you a job... Or at least a position on his latest study. You realize you're absolutely, bloody bonkers if you say no..."

"So I've been told..."


June 30th, 2009

Lucy just wanted to hang out with Rolf and Luna and not be forced to greet anyone else for a very long time. Nor did she want to hear the words, "Only a second class Order of Merlin? Doesn't Harry have a First Class?"

"I just don't understand why half of these people are here," Lucy said to Rolf as she stole Harry's glass of firewhiskey out of his hand as he passed. She downed it in one gulp and then charmed the glass back towards the kitchen. "Almost all of them referred to me as Baby Potter or ignored me during Hogwarts..."

"Ignore you?" Rolf laughed. "That can't be right..."

"It was," Luna said. "But I think it was mostly because you were younger than all of us, Luce... And now... You're sort of feral."

"Yeah yeah," Lucy laughed. "At least I'm not bloody well wearing pastel yellow and a string of pearls while toting around some respectable... I dunno... professor on my arm, you know? I mean, bloody hell, how boring would that be?"

Neither Rolf nor Luna spoke, instead they stared, alarmed, just over Lucy's shoulder where Hannah Abbott, with her perfectly done blonde hair pulled back with a headband, and a pastel yellow cardigan with perfectly shaped denim jeans and a string of pearls smiled politely at the vagabond woman.

"Hi Lucy!" Hannah said with her chipper voice still sounding light despite the slight edge with which she said the words. Lucy's face fell as she turned and caught sight of Hannah.

"Hannah!" Lucy said. She hugged her warmly, just the same, and dealt with the questions, the comments, and, of course, the unbearable giggling.

"I mean, when Nev told me that you were working with Newt Scamander, I couldn't believe it," Hannah was saying as Lucy tried not to grind her teeth down to a powder. "Baby Lucy? Working with dragons? I didn't think it was possible.. But you always were a little eccentric, weren't you? Especially towards the end."

"You mean when my mother died? And my father became an alcoholic? And then the Battle of Hogwarts took almost everything else I loved?" Lucy said. The sharp tone in her voice could have cut a diamond in two. Hannah's smile faltered. "Sorry, it was lovely to see you. Thank you for coming. I... I'll er-... Be in the..."

"Kitchen," Rolf said to Hannah. "She'll be in the kitchen."

With that, Lucy stalked into the kitchen and ran directly into a conversation that Harry and Neville had been having.

"Yeah, you know, it's hard... Ginny's only got another three months of mat leave before the Prophet expects her to get back to her quidditch column," Harry said as his green eyes followed Lucy to the liquor cabinet only for her to pour out the entire contents of a bottle of rather expensive scotch into the sink. It was a habit she'd picked up along the way. It helped calm her down, most of the time.

Neville turned to see who Harry was staring at and he stiffened.

"I understand what it's like being away from..." Neville tapered off; clearly distracted. He'd never seen Lucy in anything but wedding outfits for eight years. He liked her better in the worn boots and stained blue dress. Her hair swung from side to side and on the back of her neck the tip of a budding tree peaked out from her collar. He'd forgotten how many tattoos she'd gotten since moving away.

"Harry, where's the gin?"

The glint of light in her grey eyes and the firm determination in her brow took Neville back to the way she'd looked in the Department of Mysteries as everyone's hearts leapt to their throats watching her run towards her father. She was the same girl, just a bit older.

"You're not pouring out the gin," Harry told her.


July 2nd, 2000

Lucy had spent the rest of the reception trying to get the servers to stop giving Sirius champagne flutes as he was spiking them with something stronger and downing them like shots. He kept calling her Julie, but that wasn't the strange part. She'd gotten used to that by now.

"These pricks won't give me anymore champagne," He grumbled as he swayed before finding his seat. "It's my godson's damn wedding, I should have as much as I like."

Castor's chubby hands found Lucy's skirt and Leo leaned himself across her legs. Sirius didn't pay them much attention. That had always been what Tonks and Remus had been good for. She fiddled with her wand under the table just in case she needed to stun her father. His drinking had always ebbed and flowed since Julianne had died, but after the war, it had reached its peak. He wasn't just a drunk anymore. He was an angry drunk.

"I think you'll be fine without it, dad," Lucy said carefully. "Maybe a glass of water?"

"You don't drink water at a bloody wedding," Sirius growled. "You drink wine. Fine wine. And you toast your love..."

He tapered off and stared blankly into the distance as if some memory had washed over him. Lucy envied him in moments like these. What must it be like to have the liberty to disappear into the emptiness of a bottle? If only her memories weren't plagued with the cold reality of death, maybe Lucy would find her solace there as well. Her hand absentmindedly went to stroke the soft heads of Castor and Leo. The four year olds were tired.

"To James and Lily," Sirius suddenly shouted as he thrust up his empty champagne glass. Everyone froze. "May they have many children and lead long happy lives together."

"Dad..." Lucy leapt to her feet.

"Shh, Julie, I'm giving a toast," Sirius waved his hand away.

"I'm not Julie!" Lucy shouted. "I'm Lucy. I'm Lucy your daughter, and this isn't James and Lily's wedding!"

"Julie, don't shout," Sirius said softly. His eyes saddened as he stared at Lucy.

"Julie is dead! She's dead!"

And it was all downhill from there. Castor started crying, so did Leo, and Sirius shouted about how useless Lucy was at keeping her eyes on them. Lucy shouted back, and Ginny had rushed over telling them both to calm down. Lucy pushed Sirius and he stumbled back in his drunken state. His hand raised as though he were going to hit her, and Harry stood from his seat, wand out. Eventually, things escalated and George and Arthur dragged Sirius, fighting, out of the reception.

All eyes were on Lucy who was now carrying Castor while Leo held her other hand. At eighteen, Lucy looked out of place with the two young boys holding onto her like she was their life raft. Suddenly, her skin started to burn as she noticed the way that even Augusta Longbottom was staring at her with nothing but pity. She handed Castor to Molly, and told Leo to follow his brother before she stormed out of the reception tent and breathed the cool night are into her lungs.

She sat down on the grass and stared up at the stars, wishing she knew what she was going to do. Behind her, she heard footsteps. Expecting it was the groom, Lucy let out a groan and threw herself back on the grass dramatically.

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry!" She exclaimed.

"Er... Not Harry, but that's alright," Neville Longbottom rubbed the back of his neck and Lucy immediately sat bold upright.

"Oh, Neville... Hey..." She said.

"Just wanted to check you were alright," Neville smiled slightly and put down his outer robe so they could both sit on it on the grass. "But you don't have to say anything you don't want to..."

"Thanks," Lucy sighed. She shuffled onto the coat beside him and the pair of them watched the sky.

"'Mione told me that Newt Scamander's grandson is here," Neville said.

"Trying to woo me into going to work with them, no doubt," Lucy huffed. "How can I leave the twins with him?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it," Neville smirked.

"Everything has to do with it," Lucy said. "If Remus were here, he'd know what to say."

Neville watched Lucy's profile and didn't understand her father's confusion between her and her mother. As far as he could tell, ever inch of her was Black. Her straight nose, her cheekbones, and her full lips bore very little resemblance to her Potter cousin.

"I think you'd be daft if you didn't go," Neville shrugged. "It's a bit like turning down an auror position, or the opportunity to study plants in Algeria."

"You think I'm daft?" Lucy frowned and turned to look at him. His softness had slowly faded away as he had grown up, but it could still be found in his green-gold eyes.

"If you turn down the man that sent his dashing grandson to come convince you... The man who wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, your favourite book, then yeah," Neville grinned. "You're daft."

"You just want me to leave town so you can be the coolest war survivor," Lucy playfully hit him in the arm and they both laughed at her joke.

"That's the idea," Neville rubbed where hand had been before he lowered his hand back down to the ground. Their fingers brushed against each other, and slowly their hands found their way to being intertwined.

"Who knows, Luce," Neville rubbed his thumb across her hand. "Maybe you'll fall in love with dragons."

"Maybe I'll meet my future husband," Lucy threw her head back and let the moon wash over her for a moment.

"Maybe you'll meet my future husband-Wife, I meant my future wife," Neville frowned.

"Are you sure that's what you meant?" Lucy teased.

"Sod off..."


June 30th, 2009

Harry left Neville and Lucy alone in the kitchen. The silence in the room was thick with stiffened words that neither of them had the courage to say just yet. It had been years, hadn't it? They had lived their separate lives for so long that not even a welcoming home could make them seem alright again. They had been best friends once.

"How've you been?" Lucy asked meekly. Her hands fidgeted around the neck of the empty firewhiskey bottle in her hands. "Ginny told me you're still teaching... Are you... Enjoying that?"

"Yeah," Neville replied. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to keep his eyes away from hers. He didn't feel like having this conversation right now. He didn't feel like telling her all of the things that he imagined he would as he prepared himself for this moment exactly. "And you... Congratulations on your Order of Merlin..."

"Yeah, well, it's only a second class, right?" Lucy tried to joke, but it sounded like a passing dig at herself. It felt like one on her tongue; clumsy and self-deprecating.

"Don't do that," Neville said. "Don't make it seem like what you did wasn't-" He stopped himself, choosing his words carefully. "Like it wasn't for a reason."

"I've missed you," Lucy blurted before she could think. Neville inhaled sharply, as though the words had been a slap to the face. "I don't know why I didn't-"

"Lucy, it's alright," Neville breathed. His hands slowly made their way out of his pockets and held up an invisible shield between them.

"It isn't," Lucy shook her head. "I know I should have stayed, after Rolf and Luna's wedding, I shouldn't have left things like that," Lucy continued. Her hands wrung the bottle's neck.

"No, really," Neville said. "It's... It's fine. You... We... It was a difficult time, and your dad-"

"I'm trying to apologize," Lucy snapped.

"And I'm telling you, you don't need to," Neville insisted. "We've both grown up since then... "

"Right," Lucy nodded. "Of course..." Nothing else was said. Neville excused himself, kissing her lightly on the forehead as he walked off. Lucy's cheeks burned red. No one kissed her on the forehead. Pausing for a moment, she inhaled sharply and then stalked out, only to get caught on the arm by Harry.

"So?" Harry said expectantly. "Did you two talk?"

"Yes," Lucy said curtly. "Thanks for leaving me alone to deal with that..."

"With what?" Ginny wandered over, wrapping her arms around Harry and kissing him on the cheek.

"With... With that!" She turned and saw Hannah fluffing Neville's collar before she planted a kiss on his lips. For the first time, she noticed the glittering diamond on Hannah's left ring finger.

The empty bottle that had been in Lucy's hands smashed on the floor.

"Repairo," Harry muttered as the pieces of glass assembled themselves together again. Lucy stood, open-mouthed, staring as the couple turned to look at her.

"You didn't say you were getting married," Lucy swallowed. She wandered towards them, stepping over the bottle. No one knew what to expect, but what happened certainly hadn't been their idea of Lucy's reaction. She walked over to Neville and Hannah, opened her arms and hugged each of them.

Married, Lucy thought. Another wedding.


A/N: Next chapter flashes back to Deathly Hallows! By the way: WHO ELSE WAS FREAKING SCREAMING AT THE RITA SKEETER SHORT STORY?

Leave me a review, if the spirit moves you. They make me feel warm and fluffy... Like being wrapped in a towel fresh from the drier in the winter!

xo Sophie