May 3, 1998

Everything hurt. His whole body ached from where it had (presumably) fallen to the ground after Voldemort had hit him with the Killing Curse. Various cuts stung despite the healing salve Mrs. Weasley had slathered on every passerby. He had a dark bruise on his sternum, and his stomach hurt from hunger.

"You up?" Ron said quietly.

"Yes," Harry replied. They wordlessly rolled out of their four poster beds. It could have been any other morning at Hogwarts. The curtains around the other three beds were closed, the occupants slumbering inside. All the fighters had stayed overnight. Harry and Ron walked down the spiral staircase to the Gryffindor common room. Charlie Weasley was asleep in a chair in front of the unlit fireplace. Ron and Harry sat down in nearby chairs.

"Where are the others?" Harry asked Ron.

"Other bedrooms in the tower," Ron replied, "All of us are here, in Gryffindor."

Charlie awoke with a start. "Hello," he said gruffly, yawning.

"Morning, Charlie," Ron replied.

"What time is it?" Charlie asked.

"Dunno." Ron looked around for a clock. Seeing none, he asked, "Either of you know that charm Hermione does, the one with the time?"

Charlie pulled out his wand and cast, "Tempus. Eight twenty."

That seemed to be the cue for the other Weasleys. Hermione and Ginny came walking down the girls' staircase at the same time as the others came down the boys' staircase. Mrs. Weasley hugged all of them in turn and said, "Right, breakfast. Then after we can…can discuss logistics," she said, tears filling her eyes. No one had to ask what she meant by logistics.

"Ginny, wait," Harry said, after they had all filed out of the portrait hole and started down to the Great Hall. He jerked his head towards a corridor – not the corridor where Fred had died. Charlie made to stop as well, but Ron nudged him with his shoulder to go forward.

"Hello," Ginny said once her family was out of earshot.

"Hi," said Harry. He tried to nervously run a hand through his hair, but the ends were too knotted, and his fingers got caught.

"Need a hairbrush?" Ginny asked.

"No," said Harry, "I mean yes. Well, really I need a haircut. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I figured," said Ginny. She didn't seem angry, just tired and sad.

"I'm sorry about Fred," Harry said.

"Thanks." They stared at each other for a bit.

"Wow, this is stupid, terrible timing, I'm sorry, just forget it–"

"Harry," Ginny interrupted, "Spit it out, please. I'm hungry."

"I…I didn't meet any Veela. You know, on the run," he said, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"There's a silver lining," Ginny said. It seemed like her mouth was trying to smile, and she held out a hand to him.

"Yeah," Harry replied, taking her hand, "A silver lining."

November 7, 1998

"Harry! Ron! Over here!" Neville Longbottom called.

"Wotcher, Neville, where's Hermione?" Ron asked, rubbing his hands together in the brisk Scotland air.

"I see how it is," Neville responded, laughing, "She's up in the stands. I'll take you to her. Ginny's already with the team, Harry." Harry and Ron parted, Ron following Neville up towards the stands and Harry turning back down the path to the changing rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ginny before the game.

"Demelza, mind your left side, especially when you're trying to score. Vaisey likes to come out of nowhere," Ginny's voice drifted through the open door to the Gryffindor changing room, "And Natalie, try to relax. A relaxed seeker is better than a tense one. I think that's all my notes. Let's get out there!" Harry stuck his head around the doorway.

"May I have a moment, Captain?" he asked.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, and ran over to give him a quick kiss, "I love you, I'm thrilled you're here, but I've got to go."

"I know," he said, returning the kiss, "Good luck!"

It was an excellent game. Gryffindor had a new keeper – Jack Sloper, of all people – as well as a new chaser and seeker. Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams were a year out of practice, as Snape had banned Quidditch outright. Vaisey, a returning Slytherin chaser, scored several goals against Sloper, but Natalie McDonald, the new seeker, managed to catch the snitch when it was fluttering near the Gryffindor goal hoops and Graham Pritchard, the Slytherin seeker, was at the other end of the pitch. The final score was 230-60. Ron, Hermione, and Harry met Ginny coming out of the Gryffindor changing rooms after the match.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley. Do kindly remember that guests must depart within an hour of the game ending," said Professor McGonagall, walking past them with a smile.

"You were wonderful," Harry said to Ginny, wrapping an arm around her waist and bestowing a quick kiss on her nose. Ron was too excited about Gryffindor's win and Hermione's presence to care.

"Thanks," said Ginny, "Would you like to take a quick walk around the pitch before you go?" The two couples split apart.

"Did you enjoy playing again?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Yes," Ginny said, "It's odd, without you or Ron there. But I like being captain, and it's nice to have the distraction, especially when Hermione is worrying about N.E. ."

"What is she worrying about them now for?" Harry asked, "It's November."

"It's Hermione," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes slightly, "If she's not worrying about N.E. , she's worrying about what she's going to do after Hogwarts, and if she's not worrying about that, she's worrying about my N.E. and post-Hogwarts plans."

"Do you have post-Hogwarts plans yet?" Harry asked.

Ginny bit her lip. "I want to play Quidditch," she said, "The League got together and sent around a form letter to all Hogwarts players from my fifth year, saying that they were still planning on recruiting even though Quidditch was cancelled last year, and to expect to see recruiters at games."

Harry brightened up. "Quidditch, really? That sounds fantastic. Any team would be lucky to have you."

"I hope Mum shares your sentiments," Ginny replied, "Come on, we should walk back to the gates." They met Ron and Hermione along the path, and both couples said goodbye. Hogsmeade weekends had been postponed until more Death Eaters had been caught, but as a concession to families hesitant to separate after the war, Professor McGonagall had allowed family members of any Hogwarts student to come to all Quidditch matches, not just ones where they had siblings or children playing. Harry, she had written in a separate letter, could count as a Weasley for Quidditch purposes. The gate from Hogwarts to the path to Hogsmeade was clogged with parents, siblings, and students saying goodbye, while two members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol stood guard.

"Goodbye," Ginny said, kissing Harry. Ron, again, was too absorbed in Hermione to notice.

"Goodbye," Harry said, kissing her back, "I'll see you in a few weeks for the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw game."

"Blimey," Ron said, once they were on the other side of the gate, "That's a lot of people." Harry noticed for the first time that he was attracting a lot of stares.

"Come on," he said in a low voice, "Let's get going before we get mobbed."

"Right," said Ron, "See you at home," and the two men Disapparated into the fading twilight.

July 13, 1999

Hermione slammed down a copy of the Daily Prophet on the dining room table at Grimmauld Place. "Really!" she said vehemently.

War Couples at War?

By Rita Skeeter

Are the two most famous couples in Wizarding Britain, relationships forged in the fires of war, finally on the outs with each other? Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, two members of the "Golden Trio," co-defeaters of Voldemort, and recipients of the Order of Merlin, First Class, and long-time couple, were recently seen shopping at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Miss Granger, 19, had a dazzling diamond ring on her left hand. However, no ring adorns the finger of Miss Ginevra Weasley, 17, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class, recent Hogwarts graduate and new first reserve Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Miss Weasley, longtime girlfriend of Mr. Harry Potter, who needs no introduction to our loyal readers, has not been lately seen in the company of Mr. Potter or her brother and his fiancée. Sources tell the Daily Prophet that Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter began dating in Mr. Potter's sixth year, weeks before the tragic demise of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of Severus Snape (for full coverage of Severus Snape's actions during both wars, see page 6). Has the beloved couple split apart? Has the recent engagement of Miss Granger to Mr. Weasley prompted second thoughts about their relationship? Are both couples now avoiding each other, perhaps out of jealousy?

"Ridiculous," Harry said, nodding his head, "Anyone with eyes can clearly see that your ring is, uh, sapphire. Sapphire, right? Because it's blue?"

"That is not what I'm referring to Harry Potter, and you know it!" Hermione said sternly.

"What are you referring to?" asked Ron, ambling up from the kitchen with a half-eaten piece of toast in one hand, "Oh, that's a nice picture of us."

"Rita Skeeter is an absolute cow," said Hermione.

"We know," replied Harry, "That's not news."

"Besides, anyone with half a brain knows that there probably aren't many pictures of you and Ginny because we finished Hogwarts less than two weeks ago and she only had a week free before the Harpies' training camp."

"I know," Harry said morosely.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Ron said, skimming the article, "It's just Rita Skeeter. She's trying to make trouble where there isn't any."

"Well, she should pick something other than our engagement!" Hermione said hotly.

"I know," Ron said soothingly, "But it's Rita Skeeter. It's better to just ignore her." Hermione continued to grumble while sipping her tea.

"Hello? Anyone home?" a voice called from what had been dubbed the "Floo Room."

"Ginny!" Harry leapt up from the table to greet his girlfriend.

"Harry, I need you to let me through," she said as he started up the staircase to the first floor. The "Floo Room," which was once (and technically still) the drawing room, had become somewhat of a problem for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. While 12 Grimmauld Place was technically unlisted, Bill and Hermione had removed the old Fidelius Charm. There was a risk that an unwanted visitor – fan or foe – might be able to come through the floo. Thus, the "Floo Room" was born. Bill had set strengthening and imperturbable charms all around the walls to protect them from bombarda and reducto, and enchantments on the hallway door so that it had to be opened from the outside. Sound could flow out, but not in.

Harry kissed Ginny soundly once she was in the hallway. "Have you seen the Prophet yet?" She asked, linking her hand with his as they walked back down the stairs to the dining room.

"Yes, Hermione showed it to me. She's not pleased," Harry said.

"I can imagine," Ginny replied, "It described her ring wrong!"

"That's not it!" said Hermione crossly, overhearing them, "Rita Skeeter is the most unreliable, unprofessional, unethical–"

"We know, dear," said Ron, kissing the top of her head, "But it doesn't do any good to stress about it. How's training, Ginny?"

"Going well," Ginny replied, "I've got the morning off and figured I'd floo over from Wales and see what you three were up to. Is there any food left, or has Ron eaten it all?"

"There should be some food left, and I can always make more," Harry said, "Come down to the kitchen with me." The couple left the room.

"Blimey," Ron's voice drifted down the hall as they walked, "D'you think they will get engaged?"

November 5, 2000

" –I love you, Ginny Weasley. Will you marry me?" Harry was on one knee on hard dirt, with a chilly breeze blowing the grey branches above his head.

"Yes," Ginny said, grinning, "Of course I will. Were you expecting a different answer?"

"Of course not," said Harry, staggering slightly to his feet, "But it never hurts to ask." He slipped the ring on her finger. It wasn't ostentatious – a gold band with a diamond flanked on either side by two sapphires. He'd found it in his Gringotts vault, once he'd discovered his parents' and grandparents' personal effects had been delivered. Somehow, they had languished in the Ministry for almost two decades, until Kinglsey Shacklebolt had become Minister and insisted the department that dealt with bequests and estates actually function on a reasonable timeframe.

"It's beautiful, Harry, thank you," Ginny said, a little breathlessly.

"I got it out of the vault," Harry said, "The tag said 'Euphemia,' so I think it must have been my grandmother's. Andromeda wasn't sure whether it was her engagement ring or not, but I thought it looked beautiful." Ginny shivered a bit. "Oh, sorry, it is cold out. I didn't really think of that when I was planning all this." Harry waved a hand around them. They were in a small clearing near a pond at Breakwater Country Park in Wales. It was one of their favorite picnic locations, on the rare occasion Ginny didn't have a Saturday match or practice.

"Did they all know you were proposing?" Ginny asked, putting an arm around his waist.

"No," Harry said, "Just your mum and dad and Andromeda. I didn't think Teddy could keep it to himself."

"No, probably not," Ginny replied, "He is only two and a half."

"Well, soon-to-be Mrs. Potter," Harry began, "What shall we do now?"

"Now, Mr. Potter, we plan a wedding."

August 19, 2002

"I am never planning a wedding again!" Ginny cried, flopping onto the comfortable feather mattress.

"Good thing you don't have to," Harry said, coming out of the bathroom and drying off his hair with a towel, "One and done seems just the thing."

"It was two days ago and I'm still exhausted," Ginny complained.

"Are you sure that's all your exhausted from?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Prat," she said, throwing a pillow at him. He dodged.

"Nice aim, Miss Chaser," he said, coming to recline on the bed next to her.

"That's Mrs. Chaser to you," she said primly.

"No, but seriously," Harry said with a perfectly innocent expression, "We had to take a portkey from London, and we spent all morning sightseeing around Vienna. It's perfectly natural to be exhausted. Are you too tired for dinner tonight?"

"Too tired for dinner? Never!" Ginny exclaimed, "Where are we going?"

"Bill recommended this nice little place near Karlsplatz. Apparently, it does excellent veal schnitzel. We'll have to walk though, since I don't know where a good apparition point is."

And walk they did. At about six o'clock they left the small flat – helpfully rented out by a wizarding couple – and strolled for half an hour past Schwedenplatz and Stefansplatz. Ginny was delighted by their muggle surroundings, the beautiful Gothic churches, and the sound of German rather than Welsh or English.

"Here we are," Harry said, opening the door to the restaurant. They enjoyed a delicious meal of schnitzel and Austrian wine.

"It's nice not to be recognized," Ginny said as they left the restaurant. It was eight o'clock and the sun was just beginning to set.

"Yes," said Harry, "I'm not sure if any of our lot would even recognize the pair of us here."

Ginny mock-gasped, "Not recognize the Boy-Who-Lived? The Chosen One? The horror!"

Harry grinned, "Not recognize you, Mrs. Potter, star chaser of the Holyhead Harpies and whose wedding was recently covered in depth by several newspapers and magazines."

Ginny pulled up short. "Have you read them," she asked, a bit annoyed.

"No, of course not," Harry said, "We agreed, no reading the press on our honeymoon. I'm just speculating though. Sure, we did all we could to make it low-key, but you know they'll still cover it."

"I know," said Ginny, with a huff and an eye-roll, "Let's talk about something else."

"Sounds good, Mrs. Potter," said Harry, taking her hand, "Let's talk about what we have planned for tomorrow."

November 10, 2003

"Do you want to tell them tonight?" Harry asked his tired looking wife.

"Tell them what?" she asked, not lifting her head off the arm of the sofa, where she was curled up under a blanket, despite the cottage being plenty warm. The couple lived in a little terraced house in Llangefni, on Anglesey in Wales. The house's main attraction was that it had a fireplace, a nice small one in the living room that only connected to a few others on the Floo Network. It was tiny and cozy in every respect. The sofa Ginny was lying on was only a few feet from the fireplace, the backyard was just big enough for a small garden (with a few potions ingredients growing) and a stone shed where they stored broomsticks and a flying motorbike, and there wasn't even a hint of a dining room, unlike the elaborate and cavernous Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There were three bedrooms and a bathroom squeezed on the second floor. One was their room, one was a guest room, and one was filled with boxes.

"Our news," Harry said, slightly bemused, "Or have you forgotten?"

Ginny gave a small groan, "No, of course I haven't forgotten, how could I? It's only upended everything from my stomach to my career."

Harry frowned, "You don't seem very excited. Are you alright?"

Ginny rolled slightly further on to her side. "Of course I am. I'm just not feeling all that chipper. I'm happy, you know that, right?"

Harry bent to kiss her forehead. "Of course I do."

Forty-five minutes later, after Ginny had downed a Rapid Anti-Nausea potion, a somewhat recent creation of Angelina's, and cast a balancing charm on herself, the Potters spun through the floo and arrived at the Burrow. There was a flurry of greetings and hellos. Andromeda was in the kitchen helping Molly, while Arthur supervised five-year-old Teddy and three-year-old Victoire in the backyard. Bill was on the sitting room floor, trying to keep small objects out of one-year-old Dominique's mouth, while Fleur sat in an armchair next to Angelina, who was seven months pregnant. George, Ron, and Hermione were nowhere in sight.

"Where are the others?" Harry asked as Ginny sat herself down on the couch opposite Fleur, who looked at her suspiciously.

"Ron and George are coming from the joke shop," Bill replied, "And Percy and Hermione are both working late on that case." Harry nodded, being intimately familiar already with what "that case" was.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked Angelina.

"Fine, mostly," Angelina responded, "The third trimester is not so bad."

"Are you any closer to deciding on a girl's name?"

"No, not at all."

"I remember when we were trying to come up with names for Dominique. I liked Nicolas or Sebastian for a boy and Celine or Emilie for a girl," Fleur said.

"And I liked Christopher or David and Natalie or Roxanne," Bill put in.

"At least we've said no to Priscilla," Angelina said decidedly.

"Silla!" Dominique repeated from the floor, before lunging towards an end table, apparently determined to cause some amount of mayhem even in the reasonably toddler-safe Burrow.

The two couples plus Angelina – and the toddler – continued to chat idly until Ron and George arrived.

"Hermione not here yet?" Ron asked as George kissed Angelina hello.

"No," said Bill, "She and Percy are still at work." Just then the front door open and the two dedicated Ministry officials in question came into the house.

"I had to drag her away," Percy said, "Otherwise we never would have made it.

Ron kissed his wife, then turned to his brother, "Blimey, Perce, it's like someone has gone and softened you up!"

"Shhhh, not so loud," Percy said, looking down the hall towards the kitchen. Bill and Ginny both smirked.

"It's a very important case," Hermione said, a bit indignant, "It's going to set a precedent for –"

"We know, Hermione," Ron said, kissing her again, "I'm just glad you're here."

"Is everyone here?" called Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mum!" Ron called back.

"Good, then come in and help set the table."

It took all twelve adults to get the four children washed up and in chairs (or highchairs, in the case of Dominique and Fred, who had awoken in the clamor of Teddy and Victoire returning triumphant from the backyard) and the table set with dishes and food. There was a happy hum of noise as dishes were passed from person to person and everyone inquired after the people sitting near them. Harry heard snatches of Hermione explaining her current caseload to Bill and Fleur, and Angelina chatting with Ron and Percy about advancements in potion-making.

"Are you excited about going back to primary?" Harry asked Teddy.

"No! No primary!" Victoire interrupted.

"Victoire is a bit upset," Bill said in explanation, "She doesn't understand why she can't go to primary as well." Both Teddy and Victoire looked put out about this. Teddy, once he had gotten his accidental morphing under control, had started at the primary school near Victoire's house the previous year.

"Victoire, Teddy didn't go to nursery either," Andromeda said soothingly, but Victoire just scowled.

"We went to see the education advisor at the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee," Fleur said from down the table, "And she suggested waiting a year. Apparently, it's been a common concern, and she's found that the children usually do better once they turn four, or even five." The Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, reorganized after the war, had hired a muggle-born to assist wizarding parents with enrolling their children in muggle primary schools and to assist in explaining the wizarding world to muggle parents when their small wizard or witch did enough accidental magic to warrant a visit from the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad. One of their most useful functions for wizarding parents was arranging children's enrollment at whatever school the parents wished (assuming they had the money for tuition), so families were able to group wizarding children together. Thus, Teddy attended school in Tinworth, even though the Tonks family home was in Longstanton, outside Cambridge.

"How's Quidditch going?" Ron asked Ginny, once the talk of schools and accidental magic had died away.

Ginny looked at Harry. "Right, yes, well," Harry said, standing up and running his hand through his hair.

"Why are you standing?" George asked.

"Shhh," said Ginny. Mrs. Weasley beamed.

"Uh, I, that is, Ginny and I–" Harry began.

"I'm pregnant," Ginny cut in. What could only be described as squeals erupted from several seats around the table. Bill and Arthur beamed. George looked simultaneously happy and slightly suspicious. Percy looked bemused. Ron looked between Harry and Ginny with a confused expression.

"Oh, how wonderful, congratulations," Mrs. Weasley said, getting up to hug Harry and Ginny, "When are you due?"

"June 12," Ginny replied, "I'm nine weeks along right now."

"How have you been feeling?" asked Andromeda solicitously.

"Very tired," Ginny said, "And bored, of course. I haven't been able to play Quidditch since we found out. It's been four weeks and five days since I've been on a broom!"

"Not that you're counting," smirked George.

"Pregnant?" interjected Teddy.

"Ginny is going to have a baby," Harry said, crouching down by his godson's chair, "Just like Fleur. What do you think of that?"

Teddy was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Where will it sleep? In my room?"

"Probably not," said Ginny, "We're thinking of clearing out all the boxes from the third bedroom. The guest room will stay the way it is – all set up and ready for you Teddy."

"And you can name the baby Oswaldo!" Victoire said excitedly.

July 31, 2004

"Hello Dad, Mum, Sirius," Harry began. He was standing in the graveyard at Godric's Hollow with a baby in his arms, staring at his parents' and godfather's headstones. After the war ended, he had a marker for Sirius put in next to his parents', even though there wasn't a body. "I'd like you to meet someone. This is James Sirius Potter. He's six weeks old." Harry ran his hand through his hair awkwardly. "George suggested this. He said he did it with Fred and baby Fred. He said it helped. I dunno what to say though."

Harry paused for several minutes, listening to the wind whistle around the church steeple and watching James's small chest rise and fall. "He's a great baby," he began again, "Well, mostly. He's a terror when it comes to sleep. And eating. And he wants to be held all the time. But he's the first blood relative I can remember, other than the Dursleys that is. That's special, you know? And there are no dark wizards after him. No prophecies. I checked, don't worry."

"I'm older than you, now, Mum and Dad. Not older than Sirius – that'll be another dozen years. But I'm twenty-four and you died at twenty-one. I wasn't even married at twenty-one. Anyways, I should get back to the house. We're in Wales. But I wanted to come and say hello. And introduce you to my son – James Sirius Potter."