I'm alive! I could offer all kinds of excuses, but honestly I just fell into a depression black hole and it took me a while to crawl back out. Either way, I AM finishing this story for you all. It has meant the absolute world to me how sweet everyone has been about this - I have learned so much writing this story and I want to say thank you for going on this journey with me. And as always, enjoy!
When the dust settled, and the most grievously injured had been transferred to St. Mungo's, Eli went to Madame Pomfrey and told her outright that while she was grateful for the opportunity and the effort the Healer had put in, she had come to the realization that Healing simply wasn't for her. It didn't go over too poorly, though Madame Pomfrey expressed her concerns for where Eli would take her talents.
The truth was, Eli didn't know. But she wasn't going to fret over it. The twins' business was doing amazingly, and she had far bigger concerns that day.
She glanced to her side, where Newt Scamander stood in his best robes, shoulders squared, addressing the heads of both the Ministry of Magic's Department of Potions Regulation and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He was giving the first part of their bid to officially alter the standardized recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion, explaining his original intentions with the Werewolf Register and how Eli's new, improved recipe would go further in promoting those intentions, rather than making werewolves' lives even more difficult.
The Battle of Hogwarts had subsided merely two days ago, leaving the Ministry scrambling and their world still in tatters—but Eli had called in a favor with the brand-new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He had personally arranged this meeting, and ensured both department heads were aware they were speaking with a personal friend of his.
Not that Eli wanted her proposal to be taken on anything beyond its own merit—but if she hadn't done it, then she might've been waiting months to handle this. And that was unacceptable.
Seated in chairs along the side of the room were her father and Bill Weasley, both watching Newt's address with rapt attention. Eli had nearly told her dad not to come, since he was still recovering, but he had steadfastly refused to sit out. So there he was, bandaged so tightly on his side his torso was stiff, with all manner of cuts and bruises visible on his face. Bill didn't look much better, but at least he wasn't burned on his side.
Magical injures simply didn't heal as quickly as physical ones.
When Newt finished, the head of the Department of Potions Regulation, a man who introduced himself with the surname Seabrooke, regarded Eli curiously. "And you say you've tested this, Ms. Lupin?"
That was a new one—Ms. Lupin. She attributed it to the engagement ring on her finger.
"Not personally," she explained, "but I do have lycanthropic blood—I tested it against my blood first, to ensure there weren't any obvious reactions."
The quill in front of him scribbled a note.
"I see. But it has been tested?" he pressed.
Remus lifted a hand. "I tested it myself, yes," he told Mr. Seabrooke in a surprisingly steady voice. "And it's been perfectly successful."
"In one dose, as I said before," Eli added on quickly. That was very important—the size of the dose made the biggest immediate difference. "I concentrated it enough that it doesn't require the whole week, just the single dose taken at least twenty-four hours before the full moon, but no more than forty-eight hours or it'll lose its potency. Well, by my estimate."
"You realize we'll need to run this through proper testing," he pointed out, furrowing his brow. "We'll need to ensure it can be replicated, first, and then accumulate enough test subjects for a full testing group…"
Her dad raised an eyebrow. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Seabrooke… The lycanthropic community will have some…difficulty trusting your word that it's a genuine attempt to better their lives. Perhaps it might go over more smoothly if you allow me to put the word out myself. That trust has been broken, you must understand."
Eli bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. He really had guts, she had to admit. But they didn't want to make enemies of these men. So she cut across any retaliation as smoothly as she could, summoning up what Slytherin silver-tongue she could find. "Mr. Seabrooke, Mr. Ott… We all know our world has changed, and it will continue to change. Kingsley Shacklebolt is already working to improve the Ministry's reputation after Voldemort and his regime nearly ruined it completely. All I am asking—all we are asking—is for you to get a head start on those improvements. Be pioneers in the new Ministry. My version of the Wolfsbane Potion works, I wouldn't dare come here if I weren't certain. You only stand to gain by giving this a chance."
The two department heads gave each other unreadable looks, but Eli didn't miss Newt's bright smile in her direction. If he believed it would work, then she couldn't think any differently. She couldn't stop pushing, ever, or she'd never get her recipe standardized.
Ms. Lupin,
The Ministry has approved your request to formally test the patented improved Wolfsbane Potion you submitted. The trial will run for three months, to be tested on the most varied subjects available, against the existing standard recipe. If the results conclude your new recipe is a genuine improvement and feasible financially, we will begin the process of substituting your recipe in place of the old one.
We will contact you once the test has concluded.
Yours,
Mulligan Seabrooke, Head of Ministry of Magic Department of Potions Regulation
The letter lay open on the kitchen table next to a copy of the Daily Prophet, which bore a small article on the third page about the Ministry testing a new version of the Wolfsbane potion. Eli had been staring at them for an hour, yet she still hadn't managed to actually believe it was real. Voldemort hadn't been dead a week and she already had made this much progress. How could that possibly be real?
"Are you still staring at that, Eli?" Simon asked, sticking his head into the kitchen as he passed by. "I don't think it's healthy at this point."
She didn't tear her eyes away. "Says the one who drank dirty paint water yesterday."
"It was an accident!"
Eli didn't bother hiding her smile, though she still refused to look away. It felt rather as though if she dared look away, it wouldn't be real, and she'd be at square one again. "You still did it. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't die."
Simon snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He went to walk on—but then stopped, and walked into the kitchen with a small scrap of paper, one of the ones the twins used to send notes upstairs when they were too busy in the shop to just come up. "Er…I think you should see this," he murmured, handing it over.
She took the note and read it, still looking at the newspaper and the letter over the top. But as soon as she finished, she turned to Simon fully, eyes wide. "Why would McGonagall be asking for me?"
"No idea," Simon told her with a shrug. "I'd go see what she wants, though."
With Snape gone, McGonagall was the clear choice to replace him, and replace Dumbledore as well. Shortly after the battle, she'd been named Headmistress of Hogwarts—yet Eli couldn't imagine she'd come in that capacity. So why on earth was she there? Perhaps it was something to do with the battle, or otherwise her apprenticeship. McGonagall had been supportive of it, after all. She might be trying to convince Eli to go back to Healing.
Seeing no other options, Eli left Simon in the flat and headed downstairs, emerging into the brilliant-colored chaos that was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The twins were at the center of the hurricane, selling their hearts out, wearing matching grins and dressed extravagantly, as always. Some of their newest items—such as a tiny replica of Neville beheading Nagini, very popular now—were surrounding them on displays, clearly things they wanted to sell hard. And outside, just as the note had said, Eli could see McGonagall standing beside the door, imposing and sharp as always.
Eli crossed the sales floor with a squeeze to George's arm, just to let him know she was there, and stepped out onto the street. Diagon Alley was still rebuilding from the Death Eaters' attacks, but with Hogwarts resuming and the wizarding world back at peace, the general public still wanted to shop. It was amazing to see how quickly most could bounce back.
"Headmistress," Eli greeted, catching McGonagall's attention. "It's good to see you."
McGonagall inclined her head. "Have you been faring all right, Ms. Lupin? I heard news of the test at the Ministry—I'm sure Kingsley will ensure it's well-handled. That's quite an accomplishment, I must say, to improve upon a potion most considered untouchable."
Eli felt her cheeks redden just a bit. "It wasn't easy," she admitted, embarrassed.
"Quite so." McGonagall seemed to draw herself up, and Eli sensed she was getting to her real reason for stopping by. After all, she must be busy, so this had to be an important errand. "I've come by with an offer, Ms. Lupin. You see… Horace has expressed a wish to retire after everything that occurred in the past school year, and not return to Hogwarts in the upcoming term. Which leaves me entirely without a replacement Potions Master, and head of Slytherin House as well."
Deep in her stomach, Eli felt a certain buzzing, a premonition almost. She knew exactly what McGonagall was asking. Yet she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it. "I can't say I'm surprised… He already had been reluctant to come back, from what I heard."
She nodded. "Indeed." McGonagall fixed Eli with a knowing sort of look. "Bearing that in mind… I would like to offer you the position. I think it would suit you, especially given your recent departure from your apprenticeship. Not only are you a fervent advocate of your own house, but you are—quite clearly—a rather masterful potion-maker, if the Ministry itself is willing to consider your recipe as a replacement to the current standard."
Eli swallowed hard, unable to hold the Headmistress's gaze any longer. While Snape had been Potions Master, she had never dared consider the job—he was clearly entrenched in it, despite his desire to take over Defense Against the Dark Arts so it hadn't ever been an option. But now…
Oh Merlin, she could be the Potions professor… Head of Slytherin… She could enact the changes to her own house she'd been working at ever since she got her feet under her… Eli shut her eyes a moment, just picturing it. This was exactly what her dad told her, back at the Weasleys', what felt like an eternity ago. He'd pointed out that it seemed wasteful of the talent she'd been given to simply ignore her abilities and focus elsewhere. Not unkindly, but the point still stood.
"Aren't I…a bit young for the position?" Eli asked, finally making herself look back at McGonagall.
The Headmistress gave a wry smile. "Perhaps in the past. But you proved yourself an excellent leader this year, Eli." A rare moment of levity, calling her by her first name. "The students listened to you, and several members of my own house made it quite clear they only survived because of your quick thinking. You took the most vulnerable students out of the Death Eaters' grasp. I don't believe the students would have any real difficulty accepting your authority in a classroom."
"I…" Eli's voice cracked and she cleared her throat, rather embarrassed about it. "I'll need to think it over. When do you need my answer by?"
"Realistically as soon as possible, but let's say the end of June. Does that sound fair?"
Eli nodded quickly. That was more than fair, really—and more time than she needed. But she sensed McGonagall was trying to ensure she didn't feel pressured, which was really very kind of her. "Then I'll give you my answer by then, Headmistress. I assume earlier, but if something drastic changes this summer…"
McGonagall lifted a hand to stay her. "I understand completely. But do think it through, Ms. Lupin. I really believe you'd be quite an asset to the school."
When McGonagall was gone, goodbyes all said, Eli stepped back into the store and made eye contact with George. She knew he'd read everything in her gaze—and sure enough, he leaned over to Fred and murmured something, before making his excuses to a couple customers and striding quickly over to Eli.
"So what did McGonagall want?" he asked, pressing one hand into her lower back and guiding her out of the store.
Eli took his arm and stared at the cobblestones. "She offered me a job, George. At Hogwarts."
"Blimey." He grinned at her widely. "Let me guess—Potions Master? Er, well, Mistress? That's brilliant, love. Tell me you said yes."
"I said I'd think about it," she sighed. "I'm just not sure… I only just left my apprenticeship, I'm still really young for a teacher, and she'd want me to be head of Slytherin too and that's an enormous responsibility, really. Besides, I'd be away from you half the year, and we're planning our wedding, there's so much going on…"
George took her shoulders and looked her right in the eyes, going serious very fast. "Eli. Listen to me. This is exactly what you're looking for in a job, I know it is. Besides, Fred and I were considering opening up a second location, buying Zonko's old place in Hogsmeade. All the more reason to go ahead with it, right?"
She twisted her mouth up and frowned at him. "Maybe. It's just—so fast, isn't it? I just left one thing and I'd be going right into something else. And we have so much to do."
"Oh, don't tell me you're going to work yourself up all over planning our wedding," he teased, tugging on a curl. "We swore we wouldn't let it be some horrid stressful thing. Right? So we wouldn't end up hating all of it."
That was true—when they'd finally told everyone, admitting it when Tonks noticed Eli's ring in the aftermath of the battle, they had sat together that night and promised each other not to let their impending wedding feel stressful, that they'd simplify when stress rolled in, stay away from the ridiculous elements, just keep it all positive and easy so they wouldn't have negative memories about it. Eli was already verging on breaking that promise, just because of this.
"Maybe that's a sign I shouldn't do it," she suggested quietly. "Because this is making me stress about everything."
George rolled his eyes. "Or we just make it smaller, do it during the summer like I suggested, and then you're free to take the job. You know, it's like I told you before, love. I don't mind what you do, long as you're happy. But I think this will make you happy, I think it's exactly the right thing. And I bet you'll regret it if you let it go."
She hated that he was right—part of her had been appreciating the promise of a little time off. But it was just about her dream job, now that Healing was off the table. To take over as Potions Master… To head up Slytherin as a lycanthrope's daughter, someone of a mixed bloodline…
"Look, didn't you say just a couple nights ago that all we need is an officiant and our friends and family?" George pointed out.
Eli wrinkled her nose. "Your mum would kill us if we didn't do anything else."
"Fair." He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. "But we were ready to get married in the castle, weren't we?"
Well…there was no denying that. If her dad hadn't almost died that night, she might've gone through with it, too. But with everything that happened, they'd decided not to take that step—and now, after the fact, Eli was just letting all the usual things flood in. A dress, the flowers, the cake, guest lists, and she'd been considering wedding parties! Merlin, what was she doing? This wasn't her, this was just…what society expected.
And that just wasn't how Eli worked.
"Right," she agreed, squaring her shoulders. "As long as your mum doesn't murder us, then we'll change it up."
"And?" he prompted, smirking.
Eli huffed at him. "And I'll write McGonagall tomorrow. Let me sleep on that, at least."
Thankfully that was enough to pacify George, so Eli was able to guide him back inside and let him return to work—but the moment he was distracted, she slipped out the back and Disapparated. She loved her boys, all of them, yet sometimes she just…needed a little advice from a different source, that was all. And she didn't want them feeling poorly about it.
The Burrow felt like home—it had ever since she'd stayed there the first time, when the Weasleys had welcomed her into their ranks without any hesitation. Now, she was visiting as a future member of the family, engaged to George, actually part of it all… But they'd been her family for ages. Honestly, after all the time she'd known them, everything they'd gone through, this really felt more like…the natural progression.
Not that it was a factor—just a bonus.
Eli stepped over a puddle and onto the flat earth surrounding the Burrow, dusting her trousers off as she went. It was lovely, knowing she didn't need to ask before coming over, that she could always simply show up and be welcomed without issue.
For the first time in a very, very long time, she thought back to the muggles who had raised her—whom she hadn't so much as seen since she'd removed their memories. As time wore on, the spell Evangeline McKinnon had woven on them had simply fallen apart, something Eli assumed had to do with her finding her dad. After all, her mother's intention had been for her to find him and rekindle that relationship, so it made sense that as her own emotions changed their did too. Still, she was surprised not to feel any true loss there any longer, just a sense of finality. Her father, everyone she considered family now…they were enough.
She stepped inside the Burrow and waved to Mrs. Weasley, who was busy making lunch over by the stove. "Sorry to just drop in," she began, feeling as though it was the right thing to say.
Mrs. Weasley hurried over and embraced her. "Nonsense, Eli, you're always welcome here! The boys were too busy to come by, I'd expect, with how their business is going… Ron said they've usually got a line out the door."
"Well…" Eli twisted her mouth up regretfully. "They…don't exactly know I'm here. I actually wanted to ask your advice on something."
Immediately, Mrs. Weasley furrowed her brow, looking terribly concerned. "Did something happen? George didn't upset you, did he?"
Eli nearly laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. Everything's lovely with us. No, it's…" She sighed and moved further into the house, trailing her fingers along the mantel. There were new photos, ones she hadn't seen before—including one of her, Simon, and the twins just after she and Simon graduated. Seeing her own face on the mantel made warmth swell in her chest. "Professor McGonagall came by earlier, and…she offered me a job at Hogwarts."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes sparkled. "Did she now? Excellent choice, on her part."
"I'm just not certain what to do," Eli admitted quietly. "I only just left my apprenticeship, and part of me thinks I'm heading into a different career too quickly… If I decide this isn't for me as well, I'm just going to look flighty and silly. And she's offering me a lot of responsibility, she wants me to take over teaching Potions and be head of Slytherin. It's a lot to just…take on when I've got no experience teaching, being in charge of students, all that."
"If I know Minerva McGonagall, she's only offering you all that because she thinks you can handle it," Mrs. Weasley told her firmly. "You've proven to her that you're ready, in whatever way. Personally, I think you'd do amazingly at it, and I'd say if you let this chance go you'd be wasting a fantastic opportunity."
Eli shifted and stared at her feet. She knew it was an incredible opportunity—a full-blown teaching job, head of Slytherin, to make her living working with potions and educating the next generations… But that was the exact reason she was hesitating. She didn't feel ready.
Well, and she'd be gone half the year. Even though as an actual teacher she'd have more flexibility, and be able to see George more often, it still put a knot in her stomach.
"You know," Mrs. Weasley began slowly, "when Arthur and I first married, he was still very tied up with work… He spent so many late nights at the Ministry, constantly trying to advance himself and support our family… And it was difficult, but we got through it. Being apart is never enjoyable—but it's manageable. And in your case, you'd have plenty of chances to see each other. Weekends, evenings, vacations… The entire summer. If you want this, Eli, you can do it, make no mistake. But the question remains. Is this what you want?"
She glanced up at the mantle again, focusing on that same photo. George, in the photo, had an arm hanging around her shoulders and kept pressing kisses into her cheek, making her photo-self laugh and blush.
"I think so," she whispered.
Mrs. Weasley smiled at her widely. "Then you should tell Minerva yes."
So Eli did just that. The very next day, she wrote to McGonagall and accepted the job, on the condition that she be allowed to reevaluate her choice at the end of the school year. After all, she'd be teaching students she'd gone to school with, Ginny's class would be her seventh-years, Nancy's her sixth-years, and there was a definite risk of Eli being unable to garner any real respect from them. She just wanted to keep her options open in case it backfired. Thankfully, McGonagall was perfectly fine with those terms, but that meant one thing.
The wedding had been moved up. Officially.
After a little back and forth with Kingsley—who had offered himself as their officiant, effectively the highest authority they could get—the wedding was rescheduled for the 24th of August, which sent everything into a sudden frenzy. Eli wanted to shove everything aside and just show up in a pair of trousers and call it a day, but she knew George had a bit of a romantic streak in him. She figured the least she could do was humor that.
Eli knew in the muggle world getting a dress was an arduous task—but it was nothing like that in the magical world. Fittings and alterations happened near-instantaneously, and with designers' and seamstresses' enchanted tools, she knew she could find something in a heartbeat. So she rounded up a few people she really trusted—Simon, Tonks, Nancy, Ginny, and Hermione—to help her pick one. Eli went into the whole thing rather skeptical, thinking she'd come out with the simplest one in the boutique, but instead she came out with a gorgeous floor-length ruffled thing, sewn through with scattered organza flowers and layers of tulle tumbling to the bottom. Nothing like what she'd expected. But Simon, damn him, kept leaning over and asking her to picture George's face when he saw her in the dress. So how could she not?
Just like with Bill and Fleur, Eli and George elected to have their wedding at the Burrow. Nowhere seemed better, and it would be nice to end it on a positive note after what happened at the last wedding. No Death Eaters would be crashing the party this time around.
"Are we having a ringbearer?" George asked Eli one afternoon, looking up from where he'd been writing down ideas for the shop.
Eli snorted. "Bring out the Ring, Frodo."
He gave her the most utterly bewildered look. "Frodo?"
"It's from a muggle fantasy book," Eli explained, laughing. "You saying ringbearer just brought it to mind, that's all. Anyway, I don't think so, especially since we decided against wedding parties. Teddy isn't old enough and there aren't any other little kids around to do it, besides."
George shrugged and nodded. "Fair enough. Well, we could just have Simon and Fred be in charge of that."
"Aren't we pawning just about everything off on them, though?" she pointed out. "Eventually they'll get tired of it."
"It's just a few things, love. It's only because we know they're the least likely to misplace anything." He sighed and raised his arms above his head, stretching, before he slid the parchment he'd been working on away almost disdainfully. "I don't suppose there's a potion to make someone invisible, is there?"
Eli crossed to peer over his shoulder. "No. Just charms. It'd be an interesting challenge, but I'm not sure what ingredients I'd start with, honestly. But I'm willing to look into it."
"What about…this one?" George pointed out an item on the list.
She squinted as she tried to read his messy handwriting, aware he'd only written it so he could read it, and perhaps Fred too. "A potion to…does this say 'disturb notice?'"
"Deter," he corrected, huffing. "Let someone sneak around unnoticed, that's the point."
Eli considered that one, really running through a list of possible ingredients in her head. "Hm…perhaps. I'll have to consider it, I do have some ideas on that one. Sort of a camouflaging potion. I don't imagine it'd be very long-lasting, though."
"I reckon the Ministry would be interested in that," George murmured, ticking off a box next to that line. "The might start contracting us for work at this rate."
She leaned in draped her arms round him, resting her chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the ability to be close without anything hanging over their heads. There had always been something—school, the war, fears, other obligations—lingering somewhere in the background, even before the war had begun in earnest. Eli still didn't quite know how to cope with peace, when she'd grown so accustomed to strife. She wondered if she'd ever manage.
"Why exactly are you so tense?" he asked with a wry grin. "We're getting married in a week, love. Shouldn't that be a good thing?"
"It is," Eli told him wearily. "I'm just…adjusting, that's all."
George shook his head at her fondly. "You worry too much, Eli. We're going to be just fine, I promise. We always have been, haven't we? So you've got nothing to get so worked up about."
She wasn't convinced, though. "I dunno, something just feels…off." Eli pressed a hand to her abdomen. "I don't know how I'll ever really adjust to having peace now, not when we've spent so long worrying and fearing all the ruddy time. And then I think about everyone who was even more wrapped up in it than us. How will they ever learn to cope?"
He rose from his seat and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smiling gently. "With time," George told her sagely. "And patience. It won't happen overnight."
Eli tightened her fingers on her own shirt. She only wished it could simply erase itself in one single night. She wished she could go back to normal, wished she could sleep through the night without rousing at the faintest noise—that she could stop standing over her little brother's crib every time she watched him, never taking her eyes off the little boy as though he'd vanish if she so much as blinked. But Eli had seen how fragile life was. She'd nearly lost her father, come so close to losing Fred, to losing Harry, to losing everyone… And now… Now she just didn't know how to forget that feeling.
"Eli." George tipped her head up with a gentle finger under her chin. "We'll get there, all right? Together."
Together.
It was strange, how one little word could make her whole heart lift. But it could, and it did, and somehow…Eli believed him.
"You know what? I've changed my mind."
Simon rolled his eyes and calmly—for about the fifteenth time—stepped into Eli's path. "No, you haven't," he told her dryly. "It's just nerves, Eli."
She crossed her arms. "There's no such thing as just nerves. I swear, I think I'll throw up all over this lovely gown, and wouldn't that be perfect? Better to just postpone it."
"Nobody's postponing anything," Ginny told her, smirking.
"Besides, I think an entire country's worth of Weasleys showed up for this," Nancy added on with a wry sort of sparkle in her eyes. "It'd be a shame to disappoint them, don't you think?"
Ginny nodded quite imperiously. "Not to mention Newt Scamander himself."
Eli actually thought she might puke her guts up then. "Oh, bloody hell. You're not serious? Newt came? Did Tina? Merlin, I knew I should've canceled, why on earth did they…" She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists at her sides, forcibly not putting her hands to her face. The girls would murder her where she stood if she ruined her makeup—Ginny and Nancy had offered opinions, while Hermione worked spells and Ada helped her plan the whole thing, all under the oh-so-critical eye of Simon himself. She might as well battle the Whomping Willow than touch her makeup.
On second thought, she might win that battle. Fire-magic and whatnot. But this lot would take her down in a heartbeat.
"No, but honestly, I don't think I can do this," Eli breathed, casting her gaze round for a sympathetic face. "I'm terrified. And it's scarcely a week before the term starts, I've got too much to do, I can't be sitting around all evening making small-talk! This was a stupid idea, having it so close to school starting. There's no chance."
Just as Nancy opened her mouth to admonish her, someone knocked softly on the door. Eli expected it to be one of her many helpers of the day—only Ginny, Nancy, and Simon had lingered to help her into the dress, look after her hair, deal with the final touches while the others found their seats.
But when Simon tugged the door open, her dad stepped in and offered a smile. "Ah. Full-blown panic now, I see."
Eli wrapped her arms round her middle and looked down, embarrassed. She didn't really want Remus to see her all worked up like this, especially when he'd had plenty of reasons to be infinitely more afraid than her when he got married. This was nothing in comparison.
"Complete with attempts to call the whole event off," Ginny told him, sighing.
"Naturally." At least he didn't seem cross, more…amused. "Will you give us a moment? You three can go find your seats, if someone tells Kingsley we'll be out in a few minutes. Oh, and Ginny, will you tell your mother to stop trying to rearrange the flowers? There's not time at this point and she didn't need to fix it in the first place."
The three left, Simon giving Eli a bright grin on the way out—and then Eli was alone with her dad, feeling dreadful and uncertain. "I'm s-"
"I was terrified," he cut in, smiling softly. "Before I married Dora. I didn't have as much time as you've had to let it really set in, but I promise you, I was completely petrified. Knowing you want something and actually facing the reality of having that thing are very different."
Eli nodded slowly.
Her dad crossed to her and gently unwound her arms, taking her hands in his instead. "I know you're scared, Eli. Believe me, I understand. But it's worth it, you know. All the fear, the worries, everything you're feeling… I promise you it will be worth it, once it's done. You'll be happy, love. And you deserve to be happy."
Unexpected tears constricted her throat, and Eli had to tip her head back and blink a few times to keep from crying. She assumed her makeup was sob-proof, but without anyone to ask at the moment… She didn't dare risk it. "I think all of us do," she murmured, gazing up at Remus. "But none of it seems real yet, dad. I can't even believe any of it and even when I do sort of believe it, I don't find that I believe it'll last. I still think tomorrow we'll all be in danger again."
"And what if we are?" he countered, lifting his eyebrows. "What if we do find ourselves in danger again tomorrow? Would you choose differently? Truly, with where you are now… If tomorrow brought a new war and a new set of dangers, would you wish you hadn't done it?"
"No."
Eli scarcely realized she'd spoken until she watched her dad's face brighten. "That doesn't make it less terrifying, though."
He laughed and nodded, squeezing her hands tightly. "No, it doesn't. Eli, love… You're exposing your whole heart to somebody else. And I know that doesn't come naturally to you—not because of your house, no, I do know you're thinking that. But because of your upbringing. It was a long time before you experienced real love, somebody who didn't have a spell causing them to care for you, people who chose you simply based on your own merits. That affects a person, a soul. You've had, oh, just under nine years of really knowing what it's like to be loved, haven't you? That isn't very long at all to really believe it."
She'd never thought of it that way. Not once had she thought that her upbringing, her childhood with fake parents who tried to love her but never could quite hit the mark, could cause her to be so petrified here of all places. But when her dad laid it out that way, it did make sense. Most people had experienced love from day one. They'd grown with it, learned with it, had their whole lives touched by love. But Eli had only found that when she was older—when she'd met Simon and the twins, and gotten her first taste of a kind of real, genuine love. The kind that exists between friends, yes, but it was real all the same.
And nine years wasn't very long at all, to adjust to something most others took entirely for granted.
"I suppose…that could make it a bit difficult to believe," she admitted quietly.
Remus smiled and took her face in a hand, bringing her in just a bit closer. "The only way left to test it is to go through with this, you know. When you see that George has gone through with it too, I think that'll clear it right up, don't you?"
Eli almost laughed even as more tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. "I think it might."
"Then perhaps it's time." He took her arm, made to guide her from the room—but then he paused, turned back to her, gave her a very soft, almost vulnerable look. "Your mother would be proud of you," he told her quietly. "Eva would be so proud to see the person you've become, Eli. I know she would."
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small pouch of dark red velour. And from within the pouch he withdrew a very familiar piece of jewelry. A round silver locket, inscribed with a calligraphic M on the front.
Her mother's locket. She'd left it with Remus before returning to Hogwarts the year before, knowing he'd keep it safe for her, and hadn't yet had the heart to ask for it back. But he'd brought it anyway, a piece of her, this witch Eli had never known yet felt an inexorable connection to. Her mother. Her real mother, who had risked everything to give Eli a life of her own, done everything in her own power to keep her safe, to protect her, to give her the best home she could have with the situation she was given.
Wordlessly, Eli let Remus fasten the locket around her neck. It hung just above the neckline of her gown, glimmering in the dim light.
"Thank you," she whispered, turning back to him once it was secure.
Her father merely smiled and offered his arm.
Eli fought to keep her breathing steady as they left the Burrow behind, crossed the lawn, headed for the pavilion. She knew what was inside, having overseen some of it earlier in the day—an aisle strewn with petals, simple white chairs, gauzy white tulle draped from the ceiling, soft candlelight to accent the setting sun outside. And guests, some she knew, some she didn't, all waiting to watch this event, a family of Gryffindors welcoming a Slytherin into their world-
And George, waiting for her.
She jutted her chin out and squared her shoulders. George had asked her once, the night of the Yule Ball when their entire relationship had changed, 'Do you think houses matter to any of that? To the universe?' At the time, she'd agreed rather unthinkingly, but now she could truly agree, could really feel it down in her soul. None of it mattered, out here. They were merely two people in love, choosing each other, and if anybody cared beyond that it was a hang-up on a stupid, insignificant difference. Or…perhaps not insignificant. Eli enjoyed the traits that set her apart from George, for otherwise it'd be rather boring, but that didn't make this any less right.
Pausing just outside the pavilion, her dad squeezed her hand and murmured, "Are you ready, love?"
Eli felt herself smiling, happiness surging in where fear had taken root. "Yes."
They walked in.
She saw nothing, heard nothing, experienced absolutely nothing from the moment she saw George waiting for her. Eli didn't care that she probably had a ridiculous smile on her face. She didn't care what anyone else thought. All that mattered was he was there, he was grinning like the sun itself might shine out of him, looking so handsome and happy that she knew this was right, just from the expression on his face.
Remus wasn't giving her away. That had been an important distinction—Eli released his arm herself, kissed his cheek softly, and crossed to stand opposite George on her own. Nobody possessed her so no one could give her away. She was choosing this herself.
"Thought you'd be halfway to France by now," George murmured under his breath, still beaming at her.
Eli smothered the urge to laugh. "I thought you'd be."
"Only if you were with me."
If it'd been just them, Eli might've smacked him—but Kingsley was beginning, Mrs. Weasley was all but bawling into a handkerchief, and she knew she had to at least pretend to have some decorum or she'd ruin the whole thing.
In the end, it was so beautifully, incredibly easy. Eli had been afraid, but the fear melted all away. Her hands didn't tremble. She didn't fumble her vows or drop the ring. She even managed not to sob when George slipped the simple, beautiful white gold band onto her finger. Because it was right, because this was what her heart wanted… And it didn't need to be overwrought, it didn't need to be flowery or full of a hundred thousand ways to say the same exact thing. Eli knew. And George knew. And when she kissed him, when all her emotions threatened to overwhelm her… She merely threaded her fingers between his and held on tight. For Eli thought she could do anything, so long as they were together.
