Hermione went home with Harry, Kit, and Nate. They did not press her for why, but as soon as Harry put Nate to bed and Kit had handed a cup of strong tea to the other woman, she spoke.

"I hope I'm not intruding or anything," she said softly, wrapping her fingers around the drink.

"Oh, no, it's alright, really," Kit reassured her.

"Good," she sighed. "I just don't think I could have stayed in that house with Molly like that."

Kit shook her head, and they fell into a short silence as the shower turned on above them.

"We've postponed the wedding because of it."

Kit looked at her, shocked. "Really?"

Hermione nodded, her emotions hidden. "Ron and I – we don't want any, well, trouble at the wedding. And she's so sour all the time." She shook her head. "Ron hates it, but we might just wait until she's, well, gone."

"That's horrible."

Hermione shrugged. "It's safe. I mean, she knows we'll get married and all, but –"

"I know."

They fell into another silence as they sipped their tea. Both could hear Harry whistling a Peter Frampton tune.

"It's a disease, and it's killing her."

Kit only nodded.

"Ridiculous."

"Mr Weasley knows. Did you see him hesitate?"

Hermione nodded. "But he wouldn't tell us."

"He'll never tell us."

"No," she sighed, pulling her brown hair off her face. "We'll find out at the funeral. 'She lived a wonderful life filled with children, and passed due to –'"

"Schizophrenia."

They both laughed. Kit rinsed their cups as Hermione wandered into the living room.

"Why is the couch made up?"

"It wasn't slept in, don't worry. Kris just needed a lay down."

"I see."

Kit raised her eyebrows at the other girl as she joined Hermione in the living room.

"Don't sound so sceptical."

Hermione grinned.

"We'll start planning your wedding tomorrow," she said from the couch.

Kit grinned, turning off some of the lights.

"Sounds great. Carrie will probably be over for coffee."

"Fantastic. Night!"

"Night," Kit grinned, slipping quietly up the stairs.

---

Carrie knocked on the front door bright and early the next morning, laden with bridal magazines.

"And I come bearing muffins!" she announced to the occupants of the kitchen.

Harry smiled at them all when he entered the kitchen dressed in his work clothes. Kit looked at the calendar on the wall with a furrowed brow.

"Aren't you working later tonight?"

He smiled, helping Nate into his bomber jacket. "No, I only work days now."

Kit beamed, but did not say another word.

"So we have all day alone?" Carrie asked with wide eyes.

Harry nodded, picking his keys off the hook and following Nate.

"Have fun!" he called as he unlocked the door.

"Bye, Mummy!"

"Bye, Nat!"

As the door closed behind them, the three women looked at each other.

"I've already called Saedi," Kit said.

"I know the best chef," Carrie beamed.

"It's going to be perfect!" Hermione laughed.

---

"We'll have tea and discuss it," Kit said sharply, leading Harry to the car. It was later that same afternoon, and the girls had already gone home for the night. "I'll pick him up, put him to bed, and we'll discuss everything."

"Christmas?" he asked again, incredulously.

Kit smiled smally, kissing him on the cheek before slipping into the driver's seat. "I'll bring tea up to our room. It'll be cozy," she pressed, and he nodded, stepping away from the car as she closed the door.

But Harry was not able to sit still and wait for her. And just as she had always been there for him in Hogwarts, Hedwig sat on the edge of the bed looking at him surreptitiously.

"Why are you looking so guilty?"

The snowy owl seemed to shrug. It was then Harry noticed Caleb's empty cage. He tried not to smile.

"You ate him?"

Hedwig shuffled along the bed, and Harry's eyes fell on the half-ferret on the bedspread. His first thought was of cleaning it. The front door slamming interrupted his second.

"Eat it before she sees," he begged quietly, and his trusty owl did just that.

He tried to contain his laughter as Hedwig relished Caleb.

Kit gasped behind him, and he turned to see her drop the tray of tea and biscuits. It shattered at her feet as she stared, wide eyed with horror, at the scene on the bed.

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

"I didn't even want the thing."

"But – but Caleb –"

"Get a hold of your self, Kit," he said, stepping amid the shattered glass and shaking her slightly. "We'll get a dog instead. A nice big one that'll jump on the neighbours when they come by. Big enough that Nate can ride on its back!"

"He's too big for that," Kit sniffed.

"Well, we'll get a wagon and hitch it on, and Nate can ride around in that," Harry said, noticing the familiar dancing light awoken in Kit's eyes.

"It'll have to seat two," she breathed, not looking him in the eyes.

"Two? Why –?"

Kit looked up into his eyes. "I took the test before you came home. It was positive."

A look of utter bliss on both their faces, Harry captured Kit's lips in a passionate kiss as Hedwig devoured the remains of Caleb the Ferret.

---

The days passed, and Harry came to learn that the women helping Kit plan the wedding knew about the pregnancy as well, which was why the date was set for before Christmas – before Kit began to show. In the meantime, Ron and Remus took it upon themselves to plan Harry's stag party. Harry took it upon himself to bring Jake along.

When they got to the party, they found the margaritas blended and Oliver chatting it up with Tony. After quickly scanning the room, it was no surprise to Harry that Charlie was absent.

"Harry!" Oliver exclaimed, and they embraced for a moment before Remus pushed a margarita into Harry's hand, which was immediately switched by Ron to a virgin version of the drink. "You have no idea how much fun I'm having in Scotland!"

"Well, we're having quite the ball here in England," Tony said happily, and the others cheered, already half gone.

"But I'm pregnant!"

"Congratulations!" Fred exclaimed, and immediately put his hand to Oliver's rock hard abs. "I can tell it's going to be very special."

"You're going to enjoy being pregnant," George piped in as the other began to laugh. "I know I did!"

The rest of the party continued in the same air, all the boys laughing and joking: something they had not done in a very long time.

Jake was beginning to sober up as Harry pulled onto their street in the wee hours of the morning.

"Oi, what's that going on there?" he asked, and Harry followed his gaze towards the two police cars parked outside Walt's big, yellow house.

"I have no idea," Harry answered passively, but his mind churned. Had they found out what he was? Were they wizards undercover? Was it an attack?

Harry pulled into the driveway to find Carrie smoking on the doorstep with Kit, who was not smoking.

"Do you know what's going on?" Harry asked quietly, sitting next to them, and both shook their heads. Jake had wandered over to the hedge separating the two yards, making a path through the small amount of snow.

"Oi, copper! What's that going on there?"

The police officer turned to him. "Did you know the man who lived in this house?"

"Sure," Jake answered. "He's a neighbour, ain't he? Why? Something happen?"

"When was the last time you saw him?" the officer inquired.

Jake shrugged. "Don't know. Doesn't usually get out much. And I work, so I don't notice."

"Well, we found his body this evening."

"So he's dead?" Jake asked loudly, and Harry shared a suspicious look with Kit.

"Dead as a doorknob."

"Can I say something off the record?" Jake asked, and the officer nodded, smiling. "Good bloody riddance. And can you get someone to paint that god awful house?"

---

"They aren't happy with you."

"When have they ever been happy with me?"

"You used to be at the top. Well, next to Lucius."

"Never better than that bastard though, even when he was shipped off to Azkaban."

"There's still time to make amends."

Walt turned on the other man. "Shut up, Ament."

The other man did so, and as Walt looked at the man, he knew his time was up.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked suddenly.

"Sure," the other man shrugged. Walt left him in the room as he moved into the kitchen. He knew the other Death Eaters were not happy with him, and truthfully, he was probably less pleased with them. And he only had two choices: to die at their hands or obey them. And he wanted neither.

She he would run. He had prepared the polyjuice earlier – so much earlier that the fumes no longer lingered in the kitchen. It was now that he added one of his hairs and added the toxin to Ament's cup of tea.

He handed it to the man smoothly, and Ament, the fool that he was, as Walt knew well, took a sip immediately, relishing in it. As he began to change the cup fell and Walt drew his wand.

"You bastard," Ament, now Walt, breathed.

Walt shrugged. "How else am I going to get out of this mess? See you on the other side."

The spell was finished in seconds. The police would think it was a heart attack, a stroke – or nothing at all. There was no one to ask how he died. Except the neighbours. And they had no say in any of his matters in any case – no one would listen to them.

He picked up his suitcase and plucked the plane ticket off the fridge. He was in the United States by the next day.