This takes me back thirteen months ago, to the beginning of my story, before the storm hit…

"Hermioneee…" I whined in exasperation. Glancing sharply down at my watch again, I waved his hand through the open front door of their home.

"Ron, please." She said softly, glaring at me. "Stop acting like a child. I know we're late, but the house needs to be perfect for when Danielle gets home." Her eyes narrowed as I made a show of glancing grandly at my watch again. "And stop looking at your watch every four seconds…"

Her muggle sundress rose over her knees as she flicked her wand rapidly around the dining room, repairing the shattered window pane.

"My, we're bossy today aren't we?" I smirked, closing the front door and taking out my own wand.

I paused, momentarily enjoying the rise and fall of fabric over her legs, before smiling and levitating the curtains back onto the wrack from where they lay heaped on the ground. "Wingardium Leviosa. So, you say he was trying to open the drapes?"

"Yes, he was sitting in that chair," she pointed to a plush navy arm chair with a book lying open on its arm, "And he didn't want to get up to open the curtains."

"So, he just wanted them to open, and this happened?" I asked, with a grimace on my face. I fought the urge to look at my watch again, and waved my wand across the scorch marks surrounding the picture window.

"Tuh," Hermione rolled her eyes at me, and sighed. "Dean!" she called. The room was now clean and I gripped her shoulders and hurried her towards the door again. "Dean! We're leaving, now! Come on, hurry!"

"That was a big mess for a nine year old Hermione…" I grinned, hearing the thud of a book closing upstairs.

"You don't know the half of it."

She turned to me, with a mix of pride and nervousness in her voice. "He didn't just want it, Ron, he told me it wasn't accidental magic." Silencing the question on my tongue, she cut me off. "Just listen. He told me he thought really hard about what he wanted to do, pointed his finger at the drapes, and just 'willed it to happen,'" she quoted.

I gaped. What she just told me was supposed to be impossible. Of course children did wandless magic. It wasn't unheard of that children caused large explosions like this. It was actually the only kind of accidental magic the twins did when they were young. But learning to control magic, as a child, without a wand, was, absolutely unheard of. I said as much.

"Ron, it's not unheard of. I've done some research." She slapped my arm when I rolled my eyes. "It's just extraordinarily rare."

'Extraordinarily rare.' I shifted in the doorway and a smile twitched at my lips. I leaned down quickly and gave Hermione a fleeting kiss, matching the look of pride now shamelessly gracing her face. Grinning impishly, I deepened the kiss as I felt her hands sneak up and straighten my collar.

"That," I heard a voice and moved my eyes up onto the stairwell, leaving my lips on my wife's, "is absolutely revolting." I straightened up with a smirk.

"Look! You made your poor mother blush." It was true. Hermione flicked her eyes sternly at me, and smoothed the front of her flowered dress.

Stealing a look at my watch, I pushed her roughly through the doorway, and motion to my son.

"Dean, come on, let's hurry. Before your father gets frantic." She snickered and dodged a kiss I aimed to plant on her.

Dean waved a hand at the stairwell across the way, and it swung slowly towards him. As he jumped down the first few steps and raced towards us, I attempted to close my once again gaping mouth.

"He can call the stairwell?" I whispered incredulously.

Hermione grabbed my hand and hurried me towards the car. Turning around and watching the stairwell swing back into its original position after Dean had hurtled off the bottom steps, I shook my head.

"Dumbledore could call the stairwells at school, Ron," she shushed. Choosing to ignore my sarcastic snort, she allowed me to open the car door for her, and sank inside.

"Oh! Well if Dumbledore could do it, of course it's perfectly reasonable that our nine-year-old can."

Eighteen years ago, when I realized that Hermione was pregnant with Danielle, my present to her and the baby was the building of our home, Kingsfield Manor. When Hermione learned that I had contracted Alicia Spinnet, who was, at the time, recently engaged to my brother George, to architecturally design and build Kingsfield, she took it upon herself to delve into "Hogwarts: A History" and add some of the more fascinating intricacies of Hogwarts to our own home.

The stairwell was one of them. It fascinated guests, and charmed Hogwarts alumni with a sense of old-home. After eighteen years, though, all it meant to me was that when I awoke to go to the bathroom in the night, I had a fifty-fifty chance of making it to the bathroom on the other side of the house.

Seeing as I was neither Dumbledore, nor my son, and the stairwell had no inclination to change position at my beckon-call, after one nearly disastrous and embarrassing occasion, I learned to keep a broom in the bedroom closet. Just in case.

I loved our home. It was where I brought my new born children home from the hospital, where I taught them to fly brooms, and where Hermione taught them to read. I glanced at it in the rearview mirror. The golden plaque above the door glinted its inscription merrily in the daylight: "Welcome to Kingsfield Manor," and under that, "Weasley is our King."

A snap behind me told me that my son was now securely in the car. "Finally…" I muttered. Grabbing at the keys, I gunned the engine and threw it into reverse.

"Umph!" Hermione jerked slightly in her seat at the quick acceleration. "Ron!" she hissed. "Really, is that absolutely necessary…?"

"Hermione," I hissed back, mimicking her. She rolled her eyes, and pushed the invisibility button. As the air shimmered around us, I threw it into gear, and we shot expertly into the sky.

"Every single year, for the last seven years, we have been the last ones to King's Cross," I reminded her. She 'psh'ed me again, but smiled resignedly.

I took that as my cue to take her hand in my own, and to floor it the rest of the way.

I could hear the soft chugging noise around me as I lingered in that content realm between sleep and awareness. I was vaguely aware of the weight of an arm around my waist, and of the lulling motion of wheels on tracks, but remained blissfully unconscious of source or reason for a few seconds more.

My gradual waking didn't go unnoticed, though, and as I let my eye lids flutter open and out of the dream world, they met deliberately with the sight of gentle green ones, half hidden behind brown lashes.

"Danielle?" I knew that voice. Suddenly coming to my full awareness, I felt a strangling rush of excited happiness, and snuggled deeper into his chest.

He seemed to be waiting for a reply. "Hmm?" I shifted my weight on his lap and felt his arm effortlessly lift me closer. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Long enough for my legs to go numb," He muttered jokingly. I glanced up to catch his smirk and dug my butt bones into his legs in return.

"I love you, too, Adrian," I smirked. Looking down, I realized we were both wrapped in his cloak as a blanket. "Did anyone come by while I was asleep?" I pressed my nose to the green and silver trim. It smelled like him.

"Kaitlin," he answered, referring to my cousin. "And then the fifth and sixth year prefects checked in with their reports," he grinned, watching my reaction. He knew I hated public displays of affection.

I made to sit up, but his arm held me in place. "You know," I said, flicking him in the chest playfully, "If this weren't my last year, I'd be mortified by that."

"Oh, come on," he laughed, and propped his legs up grandiosely on the bench across from us. "Everyone knows the Head Boy and Girl are sleeping together…"

I swung my legs off his lap and reached to pull the blinds of our compartment down. "In your dreams, Nott," I sighed dramatically. Ignoring the waggle of his eyebrows and the eager nod of his head, I attempted to prop my legs up alongside his.

Being at least a foot shorter than his 6'2, I only managed this by sliding down almost the entire way in my seat. I grinned up at him defiantly and attempted to match his look of superiority.

"Good thing you're cute," he grinned in return, locking the door with a flick of his wand, "or that'd be bloody pathetic." He scooped his arms around my waist and hoisted me back onto his lap.

"Adrian! Don't swear…umph," His lips enclosed upon my own, forcing me into silence. He gradually let up the pressure, and when he was sure that I had forsaken my rant, he gently eased his lips off mine.

He would have looked triumphant because of that small victory, but the stupid grin on his face gave him away. "Don't you mean," I grinned, tugging loose his silver and green tie, "Good thing I have you totally wrapped around my little finger?"

I slid his tie up off his neck and pulled it up to his forehead. "That too," he agreed, laughing. I pulled it tightly secure around his head and watched little tufts of brown hair bunch and spill over the top of it. "And I'm supposed to let you dress me for the rest of my life?"

I nodded seriously, and draped his cloak back over our bodies. "Would you like to hear about my dream?" I asked. I settled into his chest, facing the window.

"You're going to tell me no matter what my answer is, I suppose" he mused sarcastically. I nodded, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. "Alright then," he sighed, but I could feel his smile in the tone of his voice as I watched the fields spin by in the window.

"It was about the first time we met," I began to tell.

"Who's that?" I asked my new best friend Lillian. We were seated at dinner, and I pointed across the great hall at a small brown haired boy sitting all alone at the end of the Slytherin table.

"Hmph?" Lillian's mouth was stuffed with roasted potatoes. "Ish Adrian Nosh," she muttered incoherently. The boy's hair was left long enough to fully hide his eyes from my view.

"Adrian Nosh?" I questioned. As a rule, Slytherins and Gryffindors didn't give each other as much as a second glance or the time of day, yet this boy, a first year like myself, sat all by himself at dinner every night.

She swallowed a sip of pumpkin juice. "Adrian Nott," she corrected. "Why?"

I felt her eyes narrow questioningly, and although I was nervous to test the limits of the friendship I had just formed in my first week at Hogwarts, my curiosity, as always, got the best of me.

"Don't they like him?" I asked, referring to the other Slytherins. None of them so much as glanced twice in his direction. None seemed to care that he was all alone.

"How should I know how they think," she asked disdainfully, in true Gryffindor fashion.

My father had always told me stories warning of the Slytherins and their evil ways, yet my mother had assured me that stereotyping was a very ignorant thing to do, and that not all Slytherins were bad. She would then glare at my father.

I watched him closely for the next week, at meals and in class. He seemed intelligent enough, although my father always told me that all Slytherins were brainless gits, and he had yet to show signs of being innately evil, another trait I was assured that all Slytherins possessed.

So, a week later, at dinner, I made up my mind to ask him why no one spoke with him. I got up and brought my plate with me, crossing the dining hall to the Slytherin table. Ignorant of the stares at my back, I smiled politely.

"May I have this seat?" I asked, trying hard to remember the proper manners my mother had taught me for dinner time etiquette. They had seemed pointless at the time.

I learned later that a Gryffindor sitting with a Slytherin was something that was "Simply not done." But this was only my second week. How was I to have known that?

He looked guarded and confused, but replied simply, "Yes, you may," and pulled his plate towards him. Apparently, he wasn't aware of this rule either.

After a few moments of eating in uncomfortable silence, I dragged up the courage to speak to him.

"Do you like eating alone? I'm sorry if I interrupted you." I thought it might seem like a less offensive question if I phrased it as an apology. To my immense surprise, he smirked at me.

"Oh, yes," he replied sarcastically, "I love the solitude and perpetual silence." It was the first time he had ever really looked me in the eye, and I was surprised to find that his eyes weren't the typical lifeless gray I had imagined, but a gentle green, easily lit by the small smile he was now giving me. It immediately unwound my nerves like a string being snapped.

I returned his smile and reached for a roll across the table. "Why don't you sit with them then?" I questioned, inclining my head towards his fellow housemates. It was the first time I noticed them staring coldly, almost angrily, at me.

"We learned early on," he answered me calmly, "that we don't agree on lots of things." He didn't seem fazed by this though, and he returned their cold stare with one of his own.

He was easily one of the smallest boys in Slytherin house, and I hoped to bring his attention back to myself. I didn't want to invoke some kind of fight, as I would sure he would be on the losing end, fiery though he seemed.

"What kinds of things?" He brought his gaze back to me and it once again took on its comfortable look.

"Like the morality of torturing and killing Muggles," he returned bluntly, ignoring my look of shocked surprise, "or cheating on Charms exams." He said them like they were two equally immoral things. As morbid as it was, it made me laugh.

At first, he looked surprised to see me laughing, but, as though it were contagious, he began to chuckle along with me. We continued discussing things like our potions essay, how boring Professor Binns' class was, and how he was planning on trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

I asked him then the question that had been bothering me all week. "If you don't get along with the Slytherins at all, then, why were you sorted into this house?"

I was afraid he'd been offended, but he took the question in stride. "Slytherins are known for more than animosity and cruelty you know…" He grinned when I blushed.

I knew it was true. The chorus about cleverness and wit came back to me from the song of the Sorting hat. I was about to answer when a shadow dropped over my plate. Looking up, I saw the face of a Slytherin boy I didn't recognize.

He seemed only slightly older than I, yet the look on his face was quite possibly the most hostile I had seen in my life. He leaned down slightly, and I shuddered as his robes brushed against my arm. All of his being was radiating malice, and I visibly recoiled.

"What do you want, Corso?" I heard Adrian ask. I saw the glare in his eye and remembered where I was. Straightening my back, I turned and matched the defiant glare that Adrian was giving the boy.

He simply sneered and flicked my fork with his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.

"Pick it up, now." For someone so small, Adrian was now almost frighteningly livid.

"Defending the little…"


Another figure was now by my side, and he cut the boy, Corso, off. "I would watch what you call my friend here, Joseph," Sirius was now bending to pick up my fork. He had a smirk on his face. Sirius never stopped smiling. His anger was always in his eyes.

He pressed the sauce covered fork into the front of Joseph Corso's robes, and looked up into his eyes.

I almost flinched again when I saw the corners of the other boy's lips turn up in a snarl as he snatched the fork off his robe. He looked ready to either shoot a nasty reply or throw a punch, but Sirius's eyes widened slightly, and their color flickered threateningly from their usual vivid blue to a darker simmering shade.

Recoiling slightly, Corso spat, "Keep your Gryffindor filth away from our table, Lupin," and with that, he turned and stalked off.

I was about to congratulate my childhood friend until I caught the look in his eyes. They retained their darker blue color, and he grabbed my hand.

"Come on Danielle," he tugged slightly, "Let's get out of here." His gaze left no room for argument, and in light of what had just happened, I was in no place to protest.

He nodded slightly to Adrian, who returned it, and I allowed him to pull me to my feet. Sirius was in his second year, and right now, I felt like he was years my superior. I smiled apologetically at Adrian over my shoulder before hurrying off behind him.


It was Sirius who explained to me, that night, the rules of behavior between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He was kind, but firm, and reminded me of the tense times we livid in.

He sat me down with a plop next to Lillian before finally smiling and walking back to his large group of friends.

I looked to Lillian, waiting for her commentary on the situation.

"Sirius Lupin is so handsome," though, was all she had to offer. With a sigh she turned back to her meal.

I stared for a second before nodding and smiling in return. It seemed like we had reached a respected silent median with our views on Adrian Nott, and in her eyes, there was nothing to be said about it.

That was fine with me. Feeling slightly embarrassed and feeling my cheeks still hold the red blush from minutes ago, I felt it necessary to chance a look back at Adrian. To my surprise, he met my gaze as soon as I found his, and he smiled.

Going back to my meal feeing much relieved, I highly doubted that tonight would be the end of my friendship with Adrian Nott.

"I remember that night," Adrian said, the smile audible in his voice. He tugged the tie off his head and slipped it around my neck. "Although I don't remember being as terribly shrimpy as you described me…"

"Oh, but you were," I assured him. "Although you had no idea you were small. You always were a cocky little arse…" I once again felt my lips enveloped by his. Cheeky bastard.

I deepened the kiss this time before he could pull away, and I felt him respond eagerly. His hands slipped under my butt and lifted me around so I faced him on his lap. Pulling me against him with the tie he had snared me with, I let myself fall against his impatiently waiting body and give into the kiss.

Whenever the Hogwarts express got home was too soon, in my opinion.

"Ron!" I could see her gripping the dashboard tightly. "Please, slow down! We're in a parking lot for God's sake." She leaned forward and looked frantically around when she got no response from me.

"Hermione, what part of late has it taken your brilliant mind seven years to grasp?" She looked at me angrily and I saw the color rise to her face. I turned the wheel sharply down another aisle, this one more crammed full than the first.

"Ron, honestly, you keep saying that like it's my fault…"

"Dad! Look out!" Dean's voice from the backseat shocked my reflexes into action and I slammed on the breaks. My eyes only had two split seconds to register Remus Lupin's frightened face before he disappeared.

Images of my long time friend under my tires flashed across my mind.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked next to me. "Remus! Thank God you're alright!" she exclaimed, accenting every word with a violent slap on my arm. He stood just to the right of our car, unharmed, but breathing heavily.

As I fumbled for the handle and jumped out of the car, I guiltily took in the look of fading panic on his face. He smiled at me, though, and shook his head.

"Thank God you had the presence of mind to Apparate out of the way!" Tonks was now running up behind him, her hair a vibrant Weasley red. She grabbed his arm, and smiled at Hermione and me. "It's too nice of a car to have your old werewolf guts mucking it up."

He laughed with her, and pulled her grip off his arm and into his hand. "It is a nice car, Ron," he complimented.

I smiled my thanks and had the decency to look ashamed when Hermione threw me the keys and told me to park in a spot three cars down.

"I can see the headlines now," Tonks was saying when I got out of the car. She smirked at me, "Minister of Magic Impaled on Head Ornament, Owner of Quantum Leaps Persecuted."

"Quantum Leaps Brooms Bankrupt after Ministry Law Suit," I added.

I grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her after me. I heard Remus chuckle behind me and could only assume that Hermione was shooting me an exasperated look behind my back. I chose not to check.

"Speaking of which, how's business lately, Ron?" Remus asked, hands in his pockets and strolling at a leisurely pace. We were a long walk from the station and I tried to quicken my stride.

"Brilliantly," I answered. "The Quantum 360 out sold Nimbus by seventy thousand last month." It was the first time since the original Quantum Leap that we had out-sold both Nimbus and Firebolt. I tried my best not to look as pleased with myself as I felt.

I saw Dean start to jog next to me, and I smiled to myself as he took off ahead of us. That's my boy. I gave Hermione's hand another tug and felt her nails dig into my palm. Damn.

"I'm glad to have contributed to that seventy thousand plus, then," Tonks said to my right. I was about to question her when she answered for me. "We bought Sirius a 360 for his nineteenth birthday last month."

Ahead of me, I saw Dean stop jogging and rush in between a small green Smart Car and a blindingly bright pink BMW bug. I strained my eyes and watched my son scoop a small glowing little girl into his arms and spin her around.

Only one person in the world owned a car that outrageous. But why would they be here?

"Remus?" Something finally dawned on me. "Why are you here?" He raised his eyebrows at me. "I mean," that had come out rudely, "Sirius graduated last year."

I hadn't even registered this until a few seconds ago. Sirius wouldn't be getting off the Hogwarts express this year. I turned around in time to see Hermione shoot a warning look at Tonks.

"What?" I frowned at her. I hated when she did that. "What was that?" Turning back around, I watched my son carry the little girl towards the station, talking animatedly while he walked.

"Ron, honestly. What was what for?" She sounded exasperated. That was all the response I got. Know-it all.

Even from here, the little girl in Dean's arms radiated an innocent charisma mixed with an almost tangible child-like beauty. She was unmistakable. He hoisted her up onto his shoulders and a giddy laugh drifted back towards us. It was adorably charming. I had immediately recognized her as my niece, Sophie.

"Hermione, honestly." It was always a dangerous thing to mock my lovely wife. Her eyebrows narrowed. Still, the sun was hot on my neck, and I knew I was missing a piece to the puzzle. "And why are they here?" I pointed ahead of us.

Bill and Fleur stepped out from behind the cars and waved to us. Tonks and Remus behind me waved in return. Hermione smiled at them and nudged me in the ribs. I gave a small wave and smile before turning back to glare at her.

"Lovely day today, eezn't it?" Age did nothing to this woman, I realized. She turned and kissed Bill on the cheek before dislodging herself from his arm. If anything, age only made her more striking.

"Bill, why are you here?" Nails were dug deeper into my palm, but I felt it was a perfectly valid question; their kids attended Beauxbatons. I realized we were no longer moving towards the station, and opted to continue the conversation on the move.

"Good to see you too, Ron," he shook my hand and grinned, but his eyes flicked to Hermione's.

It was like everyone was playing monkey in the middle with my missing puzzle piece. He fell into step next to me, still smirking in the face of my waiting stare. "We got a letter from Danielle," he answered finally, but not before glancing at Hermione again.

A gorgeous teenage girl strode up next to me. "We're eating your food,"

"And crashing in your beds," An identically attractive girl with shimmering strawberry golden hair appeared from behind her twin.

"For the next two days." The first girl finished.

"Is that so?" They linked their arms through both of mine, relieving my hand from Hermione's nails. It was the first time I had heard any of this.

"Our host seems so prepared," Brigitte called sarcastically to her twin.

"The welcome was outstanding," Juliette returned, matching the sarcasm.

"Why are you here!" Brigitte let her lip hang to the side as she mimicked me.

They turned from me to Bill. "You left the keys in the ignition, Dad." Juliette tossed a pair of car keys her father.

"I think he wants it stolen," her sister grinned.

"He's embarrassed to drive the thing," Juliette said to me, patting her father on the arm. He nodded honestly, grimacing.

We had reached the glass doors at the entrance and Dean stood holding them open for us, Sophie still on his shoulders.

"Danielle told us she had talked to you," Fleur was saying to Hermione as they passed through. She reached out for Sophie as she walked in. Dean closed his eyes and pointed to the door, then let go and pulled Sophie off his shoulders. It stayed obediently open until he passed her to Fleur and resumed his post.

"Yes, she wrote me." Hermione smiled at Fleur, and gestured at me. "I thought it was a wonderful idea to have the family together. Don't mind my husband," I started to protest, and she cut me off, "He was tragically born without a brain."

I hadn't even realized we had arrived at the barrier. I was about to point out the fact that I, the brainless one, was tragically left without a letter of any sort, but was never given the chance.

"Platform nine and three-quarters," Brigitte said, gripping my arm.

"Let me help you." Juliette grabbed the back of my robes and, with her twin, thrust me through. Did I have no allies? I scanned the platform quickly and noticed a large congregation of redheads towards the front of the platform.

"You two," I muttered, once again taking the arms of the twins that had just appeared through the barrier behind me, "Are a pair of monsters." Much to my amusement, heads all around the platform snapped towards us.

The male population seemed shocked by Brigitte and Juliette. I grinned as I saw eyes dart back and forth between my two fifteen year old nieces, wide and gaping stupidly. "Well, only because you know our personalities," Juliette scoffed, like it were a inconsequential detail.

They dragged me away from the barrier and out of the way. "We're right little charmers on the outside," Brigitte smiled at a young man leaning on a luggage cart. He nearly fell onto the tracks in shock.

My mother spotted us and waved frantically to me and then to Hermione, Remus, and Tonks, appearing through the barrier one after the other.

One of the things I've learned about redheads is that we talk a lot, and we talk loudly. As I scooted my way between the other waiting parents and towards the Weasley mass, the sound of chatter grew increasingly overwhelming.

Good God, they were all here. Bill walked over towards Charlie and his wife Rachel as Fleur bent gracefully to kiss my mother's cheeks. We must have numbered over twenty-five people. Had they all gotten some kind of letter from Danielle?

"Hermione!" Ginny shoved George to the side to make way for herself. She had Harry by the sleeve of his jumper, towing him behind her. Hermione pulled her into a quick hug, and then kissed Harry on the cheek.

Ginny stood on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Ron," she seemed to glow with happiness. "Oh, Ron, Ron," she smiled again and dropped down. She had practically been hanging from my neck she was so much shorter than I.

I must have looked as confused as I felt because Harry clapped me on the back and shook his head. Hermione was now whispering hurriedly with her and blushing with a happiness that matched Ginny's.

"I assume Danielle wrote to you, too?" I asked him. Harry was my best friend; he'd be my ally.

"Yeah," he nodded knowingly. "Big announcement or something, OUCH!" Ginny had pinched his arm. She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "What was that for? Ow!" She pinched him a second time. "Bloody hell…" he turned back to me, defeat written on his face.

"Sorry, mate. I can't say anything." So much for an ally. He shrugged and rubbed his arm, then stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Well, I suppose now we knew where loyalties lay. I guess I didn't have the assets he required in a best friend. I said as much.

Harry snickered, and winked. "What was that, Ron?" Ginny was at my side. Harry immediately attempted to look innocent. Damn, she hears everything.

"I was just telling Harry how lucky he was to have such a smashingly beautiful wife," I grinned largely, and she rolled her eyes.

She looked ready to shoot me a sarcastic reply but a sharp train whistle cut her off. I whirled around, and grabbed Hermione's hand. Pulling her towards the front of the tracks, I saw the steam billow out from the tunnel. Another whistle sounded, and the Hogwarts express bounded into the station.

"Oof! Ron, really, do watch where you're going…" I muttered a quick apology to Percy. He stood grasping the hand of a little red-headed girl tightly. He nodded to me, and I pulled Hermione forward to the edge of the tracks.

She stood on her tip-toes and pulled me down into a kiss. My eyes widened in pleasurable surprise, and she sank back down. Smiling and squeezing my hand, she whispered, "She's home."

I couldn't possibly hear what she said over the noise of the crowd or the train screeching to a halt, but I knew what it was. She's home. My Danielle was home.

I remember how horrible it was every year to get off the Hogwarts express and go home for the summer. The Dursleys were always, without fail, waiting with generous helpings of malice and discomfort. It meant leaving Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Weasleys for two months. I had always envied the warm welcomes they'd received, and the tears of joy shed for them from their families.

As I looked around at the sea of red heads, all bouncing and about to bubble over with delight, I thanked Merlin for the way my life had turned out. When my son got off the train today, he'd see his family. His huge family, with all their love and warmth, welcoming him home for the summer.

Hisses sounded all across the platform, and, in unison, the compartment doors of the train glided open. I stepped back. This was the part where mass chaos and confusion broke loose.

I glanced to my right, and saw Remus had followed suit and backed away from the train. Children began to pour from the doors, heavy trunks thumping down the steps and onto the ground. I was supposed to be keeping my eye on Remus today. The ministry had tried to insist on a full Auror guard for the Minister. The Minister insisted I was all he needed.

I agreed, and here we were. Being Commander and Chief of the Auror squad had its few perks, I supposed. Several cars down, I spotted the first familiar face.

"Oi, Fred!" When he looked up I nodded my head in the direction of the compartment. He tugged Angelina's sleeve and pinched her butt. Giggling, she slapped at his hand, and began to pull him in the direction he pointed out.

Their son Oliver and four other fourth year boys hopped down the steps, dragging their trunks behind them. His owl hooted happily in her cage and bobbed its head repeatedly into the bars of the cage. The summer after Oliver's first year, his owl, Whizbang, had been on the wrong end of an experiment in the shop and had never been quite normal since.

As Fred swept his arms extravagantly side to side and plowed a pathway for Angelina, their one year old baby Bella sat perched on her hip gurgling contentedly as people shot them frustrated glances.

I scanned the cars again, looking for another familiar face. It didn't take long. Just one car away from where Oliver had just come, my searching eyes landed on a tall figure, with hazel eyes, and a shock of undeniably messy hair.

"Gin," I called. Following where I was pointing, she headed off in his direction. He was pulling two large trunks behind him, each emblazoned with glimmering prefects' seals.

He had grown even more over the year, I mused, although he had always been bigger than I. To this day, I remained frustratingly, though consistently, skinny. James, on the other hand, always having been well nourished, was taller and more developed than I had ever hoped to be.

People pointed as Ginny made her way through the crowd. Some even waved and called hello. I snickered when she blushed, and listened to the calls from the crowd.

"It's Ginny Potter!"

"She was the Chaser for the Falcons! Ginny! Over here!"

"Look, it's Ginny Potter!"

She smiled and took it all in stride. I was just glad they hadn't spotted me yet. I glanced once at Remus, and then back to James. With a clunk, both trunks dropped off the final step, and he turned around and offered his hand to the figure that had just appeared in the doorway. She took it, and hopped down, brown ponytail bouncing behind her.

An instant later, my heart panged as I caught a flicker of something on James' face. I knew that look. I blew out a whistle of breath.

James brushed her hands away from her trunk and insisted on carrying them himself. After a few seconds, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled her thanks to him. I watched him take up both their trunks, and nod to her with a grin.

Then she did it. Her old Quidditch tee-shirt rose slightly around her waist and she kissed him sweetly on the cheek in thanks. And I completely recognized what I was seeing.

She turned and began to walk away, lips pressed together tightly in a failed attempt to repress a grin. As James once again took up both their trunks behind him, they resumed what looked to be a heated discussion. But I didn't miss it.

His eyes had widened ever so slightly, and his cheek twitched faintly as if he itched to touch it, to savor the feeling and to brush against what would be tingling nerves. She certainly didn't notice these subtlties, and by the look of confusion on his face, James was oblivious as to what to make of them also.

Maybe because I've been there, or maybe it takes a Potter to recognize that look, but I recognized it immediately. He was falling. And when a Potter falls, we fall hard.

As they made their way towards us, Ginny met them half-way, and levitated the trunks out of her son's hands. He gave her quick kiss and a hug.

I couldn't help but smile larger. She looked beside herself with joy to see him. I hadn't gone a day all year without her mentioning how much she missed him. I had asked if I wasn't good enough company for her. She said simply that he was more handsome than I was, and that was all there was to it. She would then drag me up to the bedroom for the rest of the morning. Life was good.

When they finally managed to make it through the crowd to where I stood with Remus, George and Alicia threw their arms around James' companion.

"Hey, pumpkin!" George lifted her off her feet and swung her around. "Was being a prefect as terrible as you thought it'd be?" He set her down and allowed her to hug Alicia.

"Hi, Mum! Hi, Daddy," she smirked at George, "No! Lord Dad, you were missing out on so much. It's so much easier to break the rules when you're a Prefect; you have no idea."

"Kaitlin Wood!" Alicia tried her best to look disapproving. "Prefects are supposed to enforce rules…" I remember how beside himself George was when he found out he and Alicia were being made guardians of Kaitlin when she was two years old. He had always thought Alicia and he would never be able to have children. It was the one ray of light in Oliver and Katie Wood's deaths.

I shuddered at the suddenly unpleasant memory and forced my mind back to the present. James and Kaitlin were once again arguing quietly, though their gestures swung wildly around, causing Ginny to duck away and back towards me.

"England really has a chance though, James," she insisted. "If they fill that open spot for Keeper with the right person, they have a running chance at the cup." Her eyes blazed with an intensity that I identified from memories of Oliver Wood.

I opened my arms and Ginny ducked inside them. "No way," James protested, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his broad chest. He towered over her, but it seemed to me that Kaitlin easily matched him. "There's no one in the pick capable of managing that. They need so many points. It'd have to be a virtually flawless Keeper." He shook his head again. "They're just not going to find anyone like that right now."

She again began outlining a Quidditch pitch with her hands, and mimicking the motions of the balls. I looked back towards the train. There was one last person we were waiting for. She would be the last one off of course. The Head Boy and Girl always were.

I laid my head on Ginny's shoulder while I waited. I loved how soft the skin on her cheek always felt. She insisted she loved how rough mine was. "Look, it's Ginny Potter," I whispered in her ear. Her hair fluttered forward a little with my breath.

"Yes, isn't she fabulous?" Ginny replied, nuzzling her cheek against mine. "Didn't she marry that Potter fellow? Barry or something?" She giggled when I 'Hmphed'.

"Yes, the Boy-Who-Got-Old-And-Boring-And-Didn't-Do-Anything-Half-As-Exciting-As-Play-Professional-Quidditch, or something like that," I added seriously, trying not to laugh.

"Psh. Right. First of all, thirty-seven is hardly old, love. Second of all, what do you suppose would happen if I said 'Harry Potter' loud enough for anyone to hear?" I could feel her smirk on my cheek, and I glanced around nervously.

I pushed my sunglasses farther up on my nose and unconsciously pulled my baseball cap lower. "Don't test it, dear," I pleaded and smiled when she laughed at me.

"That's what I thought you modest arse." I replied by wrapping my arms around her waist and sighing as "modestly" as I could manage.

"But I'm Ginny Potter's modest arse."

She laughed and leaned back against me. "Too right you are."

A few moments later, I saw her come out of the compartment. Oh, wow. As her Godfather, I felt had every right to feel the immodest pride I felt when I saw how beautiful Danielle looked…and how grown-up.

Her glittering Head Girl badge shimmered in the light of the platform and I managed to take in how alight and happy she looked. From deep in her blue eyes, it radiated down through all her features.

"She has the look of a woman in love," Ginny was saying in my ear. Whatever that meant, I had no idea. I just knew she looked happier than I had ever seen her.

Seconds later, she was hidden from view as Ron charged her and enveloped her in a suffocating hug. She laughed and allowed herself to be lifted clear off the ground as she squeezed him back. I watched as she scuffed Dean on the top of the head and bent to pull him into a hug also.

I almost fell flat on my face as the family surged forward. My hand went, on instinct, to the wand in my pocket, and I checked to make sure Remus was still at my side.

He smiled at me and laughed, allowing everyone to push us forward towards Danielle. They had all received the same letter as us, telling us to come for the weekend, and that she had an announcement for all of us.

It was impressive to watch her handle the attention as well as she was. She answered all of their questions in quick succession.

"Sirius said he'd meet us at the house, Dani, don't worry," Tonks was reassuring her.

"Yes, and Jaclyn will be here as zoon as she eez finished with work," Fleur added, referring to her oldest daughter.

"What's the big news, Dani?" Charlie shouted from where he stood with Rachel in the back. 'How tactful,' I thought, sarcasm dripping in my mind. He looked like he wanted to rush forward with the rest of the family, but Rachel had one hand on her rounding belly and one hand on his arm, and he stayed loyally put.

At this, the rest of the family nodded and shouted similar questions. I thought I caught a glimmer of nervousness on her face before she wiped it expertly away. The only telltale sign of nervousness was that revealing Weasley blush gracing her cheeks.

"Why don't we all go back to the house and have dinner?" I smiled as Hermione stepped forward to shield her daughter. "Ron, help everyone get their trunks to the cars, and we'll all meet at Kingsfield?"

She looked to Ron, and for the first time, I realized that he was in a state of semi-catatonic silence. His mouth hung open, and he was staring blankly at the hand of Danielle's that he held in his own. I, along with everyone else, strained forward to see what the source was. He began to splutter as he lifted her hand closer to his face.

She was blushing fully now, and seemed unsure as to whether to pull her hand away or not. "What…What is this?" he managed. On the ring finger of her right hand sat a band of what looked like braided gold and silver, and a diamond so large it seemed impressive from here.

Tension and excitement broke out like a tangible shock. I had expected everyone to burst into whispers, but surprisingly, everyone leaned forward, totally silent, waiting on edge for her response.

"This, Daddy," she said finally, turning and smiling brightly, almost cheekily, at him, "is my announcement."

As if the dams had broken, noise erupted around me. There was laughing, and there was crying, and there was screaming, and then there was the thud of Ron passing out at everyone's feet.