Epilogue
Three years later
Draco straightened up, then rubbed his aching, sweaty back. It was November. November in the Deep South and the temperatures were still warmer than an average summer day in England. He'd been picking pecans off the ground in his backyard for the better part of an hour while his wife watched. Part of the time she'd been busy nursing their son, but the rest of the time, she'd sat on the blanket, dozing off as she leaned against the trunk of a silverleaf maple tree.
He knew Hermione was tired. Leo could be a handful. Even at five months, their baby's magic had caused quite a stir in their quiet lives.
Draco Malfoy, pureblood scion of an ancient house, now magicless fugitive, had in essence sired a muggleborn son. He had to laugh at the sheer irony of it. His father was probably rolling in his grave, not that the thought bothered Draco. Leo's magic had first started manifesting at two months. Back then he'd caused his mobile to twirl about wildly before levitating it down close enough to touch it. Hermione hadn't believed Draco when he told her until she saw him do it again just two weeks later. And at Halloween, he'd fussed when one of his play toys had stopped playing music. Mad that the pretty sounds had disappeared, he accidentally caused everything in their house to start playing. Their normally peaceful home erupted into a cacophony of noise; cd's, phones, the tv and radio….anything that could toot, ding or ring began to blare. Leo gurgled and laughed, clapping his hands. He'd been delighted with the racket he'd caused, but it had taken Draco and Hermione quite a bit of time to shut everything off before the trick-or-treaters came to their door.
Their son's magic was powerful. They knew it already. It called to the unnoticed, untapped magicks of the cottonwoods and cypress; of the rivers and deeps. The highs of Cheaha, the lows of the Gulf; throughout the state, the sleeping powers awoke, recognizing a kindred spirit had been born.
Newer than the ancient elementals or runic magicks of the old world, America's homegrown blend of supernaturals came to pay their respects. Fairy fireflies, the will o' wisps of that region, fluttered around Leo's crib, lighting it with their flame-like phosphorescence. Ghosts gathered, too. One that stayed for a time was Huggin' Molly, a spirit feared in lower Alabama. Reportedly, she would catch children out at night and hug them before screaming in their ear. A giant of over seven feet tall, she was considered the female version of the boogeyman.
Yet, when she'd materialized before Leo, Hermione and Draco saw she'd been a beautiful woman before grief at losing her baby had taken her before her time. After she'd become a ghost, she'd made it her mission to protect as many children as she could of the things that truly needed to be feared in the night. Murky swamps, deadly snakes, wild animals. Men, bent on evil.
"The little ones don't see me unless I make myself large. They don't hear me unless I scream." She smiled brokenly at Hermione and Draco. "I do hate to scare the dears, but I'd rather they be terrified of me than join me in the hereafter."
"Bwok!" Leo squealed adorably.
Petting his sweet baby head, Molly sighed. "Children see nothing but beauty and wonder. But the world can be very dark and dangerous."
Hermione and Draco nodded.
That, they remembered all too well.
At Christmas of the same year, they received a letter from Harry. It was the one they'd dreamt of getting but had never actually expected to receive.
He said it was finally safe to come home. The coup had been overturned. Security and order had been restored to wizarding Britain. Sane heads were now in charge of the government. Amazingly enough, it was Theo Nott who had been selected as interim Minister of Magic until the elections could be held. Theo, once thought dead, had miraculously escaped from the clutches of the zealots and had worked tirelessly to help free others. Draco cried when he read his friend was alive; he couldn't think of a better man to be at the helm of the ministry.
It took a bit of time, a fair bit more of money and more patience than Draco and Hermione combined had, but once they got their affairs in order, Hermione booked the first available flight back to England. When they'd made it to Heathrow, Arabella Figg and Luna were waiting for them.
"Harry would have come, but…..well…..you know," shrugged Luna.
"Oh, yes. Of course." Hermione and Draco understood all too well why their best friend hadn't been at the airport to greet them. The chains had been of their own making.
Luna took a peek at the precious bundle in Draco's arms. Her smile became brilliant. "So that's what had the moonflowers so happy last summer. I knew it had to be something good. It kept the nargles in a constant dither."
Hermione grinned. They had not told anyone at home about Leo. Call it leftover paranoia, but they hadn't wanted any chance for that information to slip into the wrong hands.
Once the three women successfully sneaked Draco into a ladies bathroom, Luna gave her thanks to Arabella for helping her navigate the airport. Then she clutched the arms of the couple in front of her and apparated back to the forest where her husband was waiting.
Harry's grin grew when he saw Draco with a squirming baby. "You brought a stowaway with you, I see."
Hermione rushed over to her best friend. "Harry," she murmured brokenly. He held her tightly as she wept in joy at seeing him once again.
"My 'Mione's a mummy," he whispered in her ear.
Laughing and crying at the same time, she pulled back to look at him. Harry looked good. He was sporting a beard now, but it suited him. His beautiful green eyes held peace and contentment. It was all she'd ever wanted for him.
"When did you and Luna marry?" she asked.
Harry looked over to see Draco putting his son in Luna's arms. A strange longing filled him as he looked at his wife holding a baby. "A little over two years ago." Quietly, so only Hermione could hear him, he murmured, "She was what I was missing. I feel whole now."
Hermione nodded, proud of Harry's admission. He had healed, as had she. "I know what you mean. Draco did the same for me."
"What's your son's name?" he asked.
Draco heard Harry's question and answered before his wife could. "Leo. Leo Harry Woods. Now Malfoy, of course. "
His aqua-colored eyes held Harry's green ones. Harry was the one who finally broke away when tears threatened to escape his eyes.
"Thank you, Mate," Harry whispered.
"Will you be his godfather?" Draco asked.
Harry pulled off his glasses to wipe the moisture off them. "Of course."
Luna sidled up to her husband after that and whispered, "Babies are such a blessing."
Harry bumped against her shoulder. "Maybe we should start on our own."
"Tonight," she said as she grabbed his hand. "There's a full moon. Magicks will be restored. It will be the time of new life."
"There's a full moon tonight you said?" That came from Draco.
Luna nodded. "Powers will be heightened."
Draco looked at Hermione. "Can you wait until then?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "We've waited this long. A few more hours won't kill us."
While they waited, the two couples did their best to catch up on each other's lives. Draco and Hermione entertained Harry and Luna with tales of their life in America. Some of it was indescribably funny.
"One time I went to a grocer's to get minced meat," began Draco, "and they led me to a jar of spiced fruit. Said it was what they used. And all I wanted was a bit of Hermione's cottage pie!"
Harry frowned. "They use fruit in their cottage pie?"
"No, it was the usual mix-up in terminology. What we call minced meat is what they call ground beef or hamburger. It's not the only wording we bungled while we were there."
Hermione jumped in and told them of the time she was in a check-out line at a Wal-Mart store and forgotten she needed erasers. She'd yelled at Draco, who was coming from the bread section, to hurry back and pick up some rubbers because they'd used up all they had. She'd gotten scandalized looks from two elderly ladies in the line, but several of the men winked at her. Harry and Luna laughed when she told them what that word meant to Americans.
"I imagine you'll miss your life there," Luna said after she took a sip of her tea.
Draco sighed. "We'll miss the friends we made….especially Marcel."
Hermione gave her husband's hand a squeeze. "I wouldn't put it past Draco to try to move him here."
"I'd do it in a heartbeat if I thought he would let me," he said. "But he has his church….and his family. He can't leave them. Especially his mom." Draco understood. He would have been the same way with Narcissa had she lived.
"Is Marcel the minister who married you two?" asked Luna.
"Yeah."
"Did…..did he know about…..you know. About you having a magical background?" This came from Harry.
"Well…..he never came out and said it…...but I think he suspected."
"Marcel had his own magic," Hermione said. "His own power."
Draco nodded. "That he did. I think he could feel something in us, too. But he never asked. He respected our privacy."
"He was one of the few who did," added Hermione with a snort. Then she went on the describe some of the widows in their community who took it upon themselves to learn all they could about their new neighbors.
"Draco and I were up late one night….oh, stop it," she chided Harry when he began to chuckle. "I'll have you know we were merely watching a movie."
"Sure, sure."
She decided to ignore him. "It was just after midnight when our phone rang. It was our neighbor across the street saying she noticed our lights were still on and wanted to know what we were doing to be up so late!"
The four began to laugh together.
"I know what I wanted to tell her," Draco grinned devilishly.
"Hush," giggled Hermione. "If you had said anything like that, you would have given her a heart attack."
"Nosy old biddy," Draco muttered. Then he smirked. "I would have enjoyed giving her one of those conniptions she was always talking about."
"Don't you mean a hissy fit?" Hermione smirked back at him.
Harry and Luna looked lost. "Er…..sorry?"
That led Draco and Hermione to explain Southern expressions which ultimately led to a discussion about Southern food.
"I gained at least a stone the first three months we were there," complained Hermione. "But I couldn't help it. The food was so good."
"One stone? I gained two."
Hermione nudged Draco with her elbow. "But at least yours was all muscle. Not fat like mine."
Draco kissed her temple. "I happen to like where my wife puts on weight," he said wolfishly.
Harry grinned. "Gotta say, Draco has a point. You look good, 'Mione."
Hermione looked down at her lush curves. Although her stomach had returned to its former flat state, giving birth had forever changed her hips and bust. It had caused more than one sigh to escape her, but she knew Draco wasn't joking when he said he liked her curves. He proved it all the time. She smirked, the expression very reminiscent of a younger Draco.
"What are you thinking, Wife?" Draco whispered, but Hermione could see in his eyes that he already knew.
"What if gaining back my magic changes my figure?" she asked innocently.
Draco's grin failed. "It better not," he growled.
The other three laughed at his expression.
"Don't worry, Mate. 'Mione's just teasing you," Harry assured.
"Harry James Potter, you talk too much."
And so it went with the two couples. Laughter and memories, all the happy ones, filled the hours until the time came for Draco and Hermione to claim back what once was theirs.
As Luna and Harry went before them to the bed where the moonflowers grew, Draco took Hermione's hand and whispered, "I don't know why, but I feel nervous. How about you?"
"Silly, I know….but yes."
"Love are you sure…"
"That I want my magic back?" Hermione stared into the eyes of her husband. She knew what he was feeling. She was feeling it, too. Great gifts came at a price; magic was no exception. They loved the life they'd had as muggles; a simple uncomplicated life of pleasure and duty, friendships and love. And laughter. So much of that. Once they entered back into the world of wizards, the childlike bliss of living they'd enjoyed would be no more. In this realm of unparalleled power, there was always unrest. Movement. Noise. Strong energies bumping against the other naturally produced storms. It was the way it was; the cost of magic.
"If it was just you and me…..I would say let's not. But there's Leo to consider."
Draco pulled her into his arms and whispered against her hair, "I know."
"Draco….I'm torn. What should we do?"
In the end, they decided to return to magic. Leo's life would be easier with magical parents; besides, they'd bound Harry long enough, not that he'd ever complained. Hand in hand, they stood before Harry and Luna and received back what was both a blessing and a burden.
Once their cores were restored, Hermione and Draco went back into the house to check on their sleeping son and to prepare for the next day when they planned to meet with the new Minister in London.
Harry and Luna lingered outside a bit longer.
"The poor dears…...the moonflowers will be so sad now," Luna murmured.
Harry smiled at his wife. "They'll miss the Malfoy magic."
"Yes…..but perhaps we can help."
Harry quirked a brow. "What are you thinking, witch?"
Luna laughed, a sparkling bright laugh that matched the moonglow shining over the lawn. "The magic of creation makes all things new, you know. It will take away their feelings of loss."
"Luna Potter..."
"You said you wanted to start. No time like the present."
Harry began to laugh.
Taking that as a yes, Luna led Harry to the thickest patch of moonflowers near the bank of the river. There, she pushed him down and followed after. The magical flowers had a front row seat to the creative magic Luna had spoken of; they felt the surge when the rite was successful. The nargles nesting nearby were put off by the demonstration and left in high dudgeon, but the wrackspurts came out in force to celebrate the beginning of a life, getting in everyone's ears. Draco and Hermione attributed their sudden fuzzy thoughts to their bodies having magic again, but Luna knew what was happening and murmured to her husband, "I'll let the wrackspurts have their fun tonight. But tomorrow, back into the forest they go. Pregnancy will be enough of a challenge without having to deal with them."
AN: The conversation about mincemeat and rubbers really happened. So did the phone call at midnight from a nosy old widow. Such is life in the South. LOL