Hometown Glory

Chapter Twelve: Love On Top

"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."— Erma Bombeck

She was standing in the middle of that old spiraling staircase, her pastel-green dress hugging her body perfectly; looking ravishing like people were so used to seeing her. But just like most people were used to only seeing the outside—her pale face, rosy cheeks, dark, cascading black hair, eyes big and bright, the color of the deepest emeralds—so perfect and beautiful, nobody ever saw what was in the inside. No one saw that thundering mess going on internally most of the time.

It was needless to say that she was freaking out. She had been standing there for a few minutes, watching people come in and out of the Burrow's backdoor; person after person stampeding with a rush following their shadows. But no, not her. Not Bliss Potter. The girl just remained frozen onto that creaky step, honestly hoping she'd fade into the wall.

But with no such luck as a group of people came through the backdoor—Lynx Malfoy and his new-found girlfriend, Raven Thomas, walking hand in hand; the boy telling Andre Zabini and Neo Potter, his second-cousins, not to lose hope, they'll one day find love—dark eyes found her on that step; noticing her.

She felt even more frozen, still, and rigid as she made the mistake of allowing those coal-colored eyes to penetrate through her green ones. She gulped, her finger tips suddenly a little numb as she felt like the walls of the Burrow about to cave in on her.

Silence rung between both as more people walked in and out of the backdoor; becoming almost like a blur of bodies as they focused on each other. Tension running high, tension running thick like a rope tying around both of them; connecting them and tethering them.

And as three, four, five, six long seconds passed, both continued not to say anything as Glorie and Angelique Lupin appeared into the living room; the same colored pastel-green dress on their bodies as they fought.

"Come on, Angelique," Glorie whined like she was the youngest of the two. "Why won't you tell me? We're sisters. That's what we do, don't we? Don't we got to share secrets and all that rubbish?"

Angelique rolled her eyes at her older sister, snorting. "I don't think so, Glorie. I would never tell you anything, even if the Ministry was looking for me and I needed a hide-out. You're a blabber-mouth and I hate you."

Glorie stopped her following after her sister, pausing for a little bit.

"Well, it's true," Angelique retorted, also stopping as she no longer heard Glorie's footsteps after her. Another long second past, but this time including both Lupin sisters.

"Ouch," Glorie mumbled in a hurt voice. "After everything you've done to me, Angelique, you still think I wouldn't be happy over something that makes you happy? I'm not like you, alright. I don't only just think about myself."

Angelique rolled her eyes—her orbs changing from her constant purple shade to an orange.

"Quiet now, aren't you?" Glorie retaliated. "I mean, you've stolen my diary, made me look like a fool in front of everyone, you don't give me the respect an older sister should have, you treat me like—"

"You do the same thing to me!" Angelique hissed back.

"Because we're sisters!" Glorie raised her voice too. "Obviously! That's what they do! And, mind you, I just want to be happy for you because it's not every day that someone finds interest in a self-altering freak with devil-eyes, but hey! That's just me wanting to be nice! But when dad asks about your little fits of giggles again and you want him off your case then—"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Angelique snapped at her blonde sister. "Alright, Glorie. Okay. Just…silence." She huffed, shaking her head and fluffing her dress. "I fancy Zacharias Wood, alright. And he likes me too. There. Satisfied?"

And just as the youngest of the Lupin girls waited for her sister to throw her an insulting remark, all she got was a high-pitched scream that sounded like a squeal of excitement mixed with a squeak of outrage.

"Tell me everything!" Glorie demanded. "When did this happen?"

Rolling her eyes back to her usual shade of purple, Angelique headed towards the backdoor once more.

"Come on, Ange! I mean, how do you know he's not just playing you? He is older, you know." There was another squeal as Glorie followed her sister out. "Merlin, he's older! Did you two have sex already?"

And just as quick as that little break of tension happened, it came back. Back to that person with the coal eyes and that girl with the pastel-green dress and emerald eyes on the staircase.

And right before the moment could go back to be silent, dense, and all that rubbish, Bliss cleared her throat slightly. Finding a little tiny bit of her Gryffindor courage. "…They're in the kitchen," she said low and emotionless.

Looking back at her, Rex Rowle gave a single nod. "Well, then," he cleared his throat too. "It's now or never, right?"

"..Yeah," Bliss said in agreement, walking down the final steps of the staircase as Rex approached her. Meeting her halfway with a palm extended out.

"Now or never, Bliss," Rex repeated, taking her hand and their fingers twining together.

And before Bliss could lose that courage, before she could run back up that staircase and hide forever, she took the first step and directed her and Rex Rowle to the kitchen of the Burrow.

And as they entered, hand in hand, there on the table, Emily and James Sirius Potter looked up in time to see their eldest daughter enter.

Smiling a glittering smile, that was rumored she passed on to Bliss, Emily's face lit up with happiness at her daughter and Rex. Nodding once at them, acknowledging them like a supportive mother does to whatever their child decides to partake in.

"No, no—" James was just about getting up his seat when his wife put a pressuring hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down on the chair.

"James," Emily said to her husband, looking down at him from her stance next to him. "This is your daughter's choice, alright. It's about time you stop playing the jealous, overbearing father and let her move on with her life. She loves him, he loves her. End of story."

James frowned. "But he's no good for her, Em!" He sent daggers at the two teenagers. "He's too…He's no good!"

Rex tightened his lips into a line, Bliss squeezed his hand.

"That's what they said about us, remember?" Emily kept her firm gaze on her husband. "I was no good for you, James. I was too…unstable and insane. But you loved me, and you didn't care what was wrong with me or what the world had to say."

James softened his frown—but still held on to most of it.

"We've been married for more than seventeen years, James," Emily continued. "We're true love. Why are you going to get in the way of that for Bliss and Rex?"

"But, Em," James began again, complaining and sounding immature as always. "I mean, come on. She's my little girl and that boy's—" But at his wife's frown, at Bliss and Rex's firm stance, James banged his head against the table and groaned loudly. "Fine!"

And just like that, as simple as standing up for what she believed in, standing up for what she loved, Bliss actually pulled on a true smile that lit up the emerald in her eyes.

X

It was the way it had been the first time—with the way loved flowed in and out like the mid-spring breeze. There was everlasting vegetation and nature everywhere: trees, bushes, flowers, birds, butterflies, and little fireflies present. The sun was out, far away in the corner of the baby-blue sky that was adorned with the perfect amount of cotton-like clouds. White chairs with pastel-green ribbons were all aligned row after row after row. Holding up people that were present once more or for the first time ever to witness Rose and Scorpius Malfoy's love for one another.

He was sitting at the second row, in the last chair in the corner, hand held tightly with that redhead that's been in his dreams longer than he could remember. But even as he sat there, eyes focused on his niece and Scorpius recite their vows once more, their bonds of marriage once more to one another, Harry could see everything else around him.

In the third row of the opposite section, he saw James and his wife Emily. Their hands clasped together. And even though there was a scowl on his son's face, looking like he had thrown a tantrum and Emily had subsided it like she's been doing all the years of their relationship, Harry could see the way he leaned into her. Like he was gravitated to her. And that, that was love after years of being together.

And next to them was Orion, Evan, and Harriet—his grandchildren. All three of them perfect in their own way, and imperfect in so many. Harriet, with the way she looked so pleased, eager, curious, the way Lily looked when she was a child, the way Ginny had too. Then there was Orion and Evan, who had inherited the Weasley-men's need of protection over their sisters as they glared towards the canopy where the bride and groom stood. The two brothers, one fifteen and the other eight, watching carefully as Bliss, who was a bridesmaid, sent bashful and flirty looks at Rex Rowle.

Then, on the row up James and his family's was Albus and Nia. His son looking calm, looking relaxed, but his emerald eyes growing with some annoyance and some worry as his wife kept sending death-glares at Ophelia De la Cruz at another row. But even as that little mishap of years past the loomed over them like a scar that never quite faded from their skin, Harry could still clearly see the way Al was attached to Nia; the way he was tethered to her too. And even though it was Nia who still held on to Al's greatest betrayal, she was the one that would blink up to his face; gazing at him with that look of lovestruck teenager that never seems to diminish.

And loyally next to their dysfunctional parents, Neo and Alexa Potter sat perfectly on their chairs. Smiling at one another time to time, at the same moment like the identical twins they were.

And huffing a little chuckle to that, Harry looked a little over his shoulder to gaze at his once little girl, at Lily Luna and her husband Liam. And as he quickly glanced at her, sitting there, black dress, hair like long strands of fire glittering in the sun, brown eyes, and perfectly composed and happy face, Harry knew that hectic bomb his daughter was and is. But it seemed with all the equal amount of Potter and Weasley genetics the now woman has in her, Harry also knew that it was all Liam Greengrass' effort and love that managed to neutralize all those hectic emotions. And that both of them, one fire and one ice, complete each other. And that in all the years Lily has been in love with Liam, he has never had to worry about her.

Next to the Greengrass couple, were Harry's other set of grandchildren: Logan and Violet. The fifteen year-old boy exactly like his father. Calm, quiet, loyal, and brave. And Violet, with those same brown eyes and red hair, an almost exact version of her mother and grandmother.

As he shifted in his seat, barely hearing the words spoken by the Minister, Harry could still see the others; the rest of the Third and Fourth generation of his family. He could see Dominique and Derrick Rowle, both cool and composed like their personalities. Like the shades of vibrant, flaming colors that they were together. He could see Dustin and Devon, completing the Rowle family with their red hair and chins raised up high. But two different gazes on their faces. Dustin's, emerald and looking more responsible than Harry had ever seen him. And Devon's, dark and doe-like, like they held a secret; like they held a fleck of innocence.

Then there was Freddie and Evanna, both unexpected and odd. His nephew, even at such an older age, still gleeful, still smooth, still the shine of a comedian in his eyes that he had inherited from George and Fred Weasley. And Evanna with her strict and poised eyes, exactly the ones that came from a once Death Eater. But even in their little odd relationship, next to them sat their three children. The twins, Rory and Riley, and Theodore. All three of them different from one another. Rory, with her flaming attitude and uncontrolled rage; Rory, with her sweet face, sweet tone, sweet words, and sweet personality; Theo, with his aloof everything.

Louis and Coral Weasley—Merlin, with their cocky and almighty personalities radiating out like rays of light. Both exactly the same; both vain, both superficial, both conceited, and both the loyalist of people. And in the spirit of that known beauty that ran in their household, was Maxim and Kendra. Max with his cocky eyes, with his glint of ferocious love and loyalty. Kendra with her beautiful complexion, red hair like blood, blue eyes like the sky, but with a shyness that contradicts her from her brother and her parents. (And sitting next to her, quiet as a mouse, with random eye interactions, sat Abel Greengrass. Looking completely smitten with Kendra.)

And taking up most of the fourth row, were Teddy and Victoire. Those two still looking like they belonged together and glued to the hip like when they were kids. Both still so in love, so used to one another, still connected to the other's breath and soul. And like that love that was reproduced and expanded, Glorie and Angelique sat next to their parents like drops of water and oil. Glorie, blonde, beautiful, poised, elegant-looking, and completely wrapped in an aura of carefree-ness that she certainly inherited from the deceased Tonks. Then there was Angelique, who'd inherited Teddy and Tonks' metamorphmagus genes, with her constant smirk on her face, some sort of knowledge glittering in her purple eyes.

Sitting loyally next to Teddy and Victoire, next to those two that she'd grown up with and lived so many adventures with, who she owed so much to, was Molly Weasley II. Looking proud, independent, glowing, and content as she flickered her eyes to the side and smiled hugely at her daughter; at Sidney. And as she returned her mother's smile, clasping her hand with hers, Harry could see that Sidney, with her need to seclude herself and all, was perhaps the truest Weasley in the newest generation.

"—Oi," pulling him away from the guest, Harry was elbowed on the ribs. "Stop looking around, Harry, and pay attention. Your niece is getting re-bonded, don't be a prat."

"Yeah, mate. That only happens once in a lifetime. Oh, wait." Turning from his seat in the first row, rolling his eyes in annoyance, Ron snorted at Harry and Ginny's direction. "Well, at least this time I didn't have to pay for anything, you know."

Frowning at her brother, Ginny said, "you didn't pay for anything in the first wedding either, Ron. Narcissa handled everything."

"We were having economic problems that year, alright, Ginny." Ron retorted back. "And besides, it's the least those Malfoys could do for my Rosie."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't bet half of your lifesavings on that year's Quidditch World Cup, you could've spared yourself from Malfoy's endless gloating about still being richer than you."

"Oi! That was not my fault, alright. I was assured that the Chudley Cannons would win the cup!"

And with the very clear and echoed shouting Ron was doing, turning away with a huff from the canopy, Hermione reached over and pulled on her husband's ear. "Ronald, your daughter's getting re-bonded, for goodness sake." She pulled harder as she made him sit correctly on his chair.

"But Ginny's—"

Hermione smacked Ron on the shoulder, shushing him. "…Maybe next time you'll think twice about trusting anything Trelawney has to say. Idiot."

Sending her grandmother a nod of approval, Athena proceeded to smack that back of her brother's head as he was looking behind his shoulder; gazing like a puppy dog at Raven Thomas in the rows behind.

"…Just like bloody Granger," Harry heard Draco murmur to his wife; shaking his head in disapproval as the Minister lifted his hands at the guests.

"And now," the Minister said loudly; silencing everything but the humming of birds in the sky, "like the two compatible souls that they are, like the two individual halves that have learned the sacred value of marriage, that know of the struggle and the joy of being tied together already, I give you Rose and Scorpius Malfoy! A love that still goes on and on, strong like flames."

As a thundering clap that ran through the Burrow's garden—some loud cheers, some whistles, some cries of relief that this process was now over with—Harry stood along with Ginny. Both of them grinning and clapping along with their family, with their friends.

And as happiness and love still continued to ring and pour all around, Harry could see the entire garden: everyone from Mister and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, Hermione and Ron, Draco and Astoria, Al and Nia, Dominique and Derrick, Rose and Scorpius, and even the newest generation among them. Looking at all of them, some the odd ones in, some dysfunctional as they come, others the best you'll ever get the pleasure of meeting, Harry knew this is how their family worked. And Scorpius and Rose's love proved that.

They were all things that didn't match, things that didn't go, that weren't right in the surface. But when stripped away from all those things that makes them all want to avoid each other, to be far from one another as possible, all you see is what's on the inside. Which is all pure, all bones, all blood—it was all blood ties that linked them together. All family and love, to its fullest glory.

~The End~

AN:...AND FINALLY!

Well, my beautiful readers, this s it. We have arrived to the final and last chapter of all these sequels that we've created.

Whew.

I just, firstly, want to thank all of you for sticking around after three stories. (Some crappier than the next, haha.) You are all so amazing and so supportive. Thanks a billion for every review and every time you skipped through a chapter. You guys are the best.

(: