Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except the kids and the little voices. By the way, there is the best ending sequence.

Epilogue

"So that's how it all happened. That's how I got with your mother. That's how it all happened." I said.

"Great story, dad." Said my little brown haired boy.

"Yeah, dad, good story." Said my little red haired girl.

"Alright kids, you've heard how daddy and I met, now Emily, head on down to the kitchen and Jordan, go with your dad to the garage. We need to get out the Christmas decorations." Said Hermione.

"Okay mom!" they chorused.

They're so cute. Hermione thought.

I know, Sybil. They grow up so fast.

What kind of cookies should we bake?

I was thinking sugar cookies.

Great idea!

Meanwhile, I was with Jordan getting out the Christmas decorations.

"Dad, about that little voice in your head, are you crazy?"

"No, Jordan. Why do you ask?"

"Because Draco II says that people hearing voices in their heads is unnatural."

"What does he know?"

"He knows how to get to my sister."

"What?"

"Draco II is dating my sister."

"Wow, Jordan, that's great. True, Draco I wasn't all that nice to me at Hogwarts, but I think it's awesome that his son is dating your sister. His father and him are coming to the Christmas party, remember?"

Why, why, why?

Because Hermione said so.

Oh, yeah.

"Dad, why does he have to come? Why, why, why?"

"Because your mother said so."

"Oh, yeah."

"Don't forget, all your cousins are coming, too. Good thing I have a big house."

"Aw, dad! All 15 of them are coming?"

"Yes, son. All 15. Be thankful it's not more! Of course, Harry is coming with your favorite aunt. They are married. Bloody…"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Don't you dare say that in front of the children!" screeched Hermione.

"…hell, it feels weird saying that. Hermione, I am not saying anything bad! I am just saying bloody hell. I said it all the time at school, and now I'll say it while I'm grown."

"Ron…it's no use arguing with you, you're impossible."

"I found that out during seventh year!" A man was on my front lawn. He had unruly black hair, round glasses, and a scar on his forehead. Next to him was a small girl, but looked about 27. She had flaming red hair, freckles across her nose, and a large stomach.

"Harry! Ginny! So glad you could make it! I am, of course, correct in saying you are having twins, little sister?"

"Ron, you already know that!"

"Yep! That makes 17!"

"17 what, Ron?"

"Cousins."

"Ron, you old coot, gimme a hug, too! Please!" This was Harry begging.

"No! You might be contagious! And I'm not old. I'm 28!"

"So?"

"Shut up!"

"Ron, Malfoy will be coming soon, along with your four other brothers."

"Too late for that, Granger." An oily haired grease bag was standing on my lawn. His hair had been slicked back (as usual) and next to him was an equally oily haired boy. But this one was smiling, not sneering.

"I do declare, no one's called me by my maiden name since I got married. And wipe that annoying sneer off your face, ferret. It's giving me a headache."

"Dad, why'd she call you ferret? Why?" said the small grease bag.

"Well, well! You haven't even told your own son?" this was me. "You see, when your father was in fourth year, he tried to attack Harry while his back was turned, and he got turned into a ferret and got bounced up and down the great hall. Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. I'll never forget it." I had a smug smile on my face.

That was priceless.

I have to admit, that was cool.

Glad you see it my way.

That's never happened before.

No, it hasn't. You're very observant. Sarcasm, sarcasm.

Are you being sarcastic with me?

Yes.

Hmph.

"Ronald, we need to get inside, it's snowing."

"Here I come, dear." Hermione, my dear.

I look into your eyes and see a picture, a boy on one side and a girl on the other. The boy is tall, lanky, and shy, just standing by while she frolics and plays, and finally he goes over. He talks, she talks. They kiss, and hold hands.

The picture changes. She is older, and so is he, and she is in a white dress, he in a tuxedo. They look at each other with only the purest of love in their hearts. He talks, she talks. They kiss, and hold hands.

The picture changes. She is older, and so is he, she wearing an apron, he wearing jeans. She is holding the hand of a little boy. He, that of a little girl. He talks, she talks, the young ones talk. They kiss, and hold hands. And there they are all in a row.

The picture changes. She is older, and so is he, she in a pink dress, he in a gray coat. She is hugging the little boy, now he is older. He is hugging the little girl, now older. The young ones walk out of the picture, in separate directions. He talks, she talks. They kiss, and hold hands, knowing they won't see the young ones for a long time. But they smile.

The picture changes. She is older, and so is he, they both in rocking chairs. She rocks, he rocks, both in unison, a gesture of love. He talks, she talks. They kiss and hold hands. They stand up and walk into the house, smiling at each other, knowing it was time. They never come out of the house again.

The picture changes. She is younger, and so is he, they both in robes of white. They look down, watching their children grow, watching the same story. He talks, she talks. They kiss and hold hands. And they are happy.

A/N: Finally! It's done! So there, Christie!

All: Have large party celebrating the completion of the fanfic!