The Aftermath

Chapter 9

Christmas Reunions Are Awkward—It's a Fact

December 2nd 2009

Draco Malfoy was quite happy with his life. Sure, his father was still in prison, but sometimes you had to look at the whole picture instead of nitpicking on brushstrokes. And his life on the whole was turning out to be quite wonderful. For one, he hadn't gone to jail. Two, he hadn't had to marry Pansy Parkinson—he still shuddered at the thought of her pug-like face.

Now, Draco was married to Astoria Greengrass—and they actually chose to marry; it was not a contract, but love—and he had a son. Honestly? His life had turned out to be much better than he had thought it would, and though he hated to admit it, it wouldn't have happened without Adelaide Potter not only defeating the Dark Lord but also getting him out of prison—he still had no idea why she had done that, maybe because when Granger, Weasely, and her were caught by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor he hadn't given away her identity.

That didn't mean he wasn't grateful though, because he was. That's why, when he sees her in Flourish and Blotts, he doesn't just walk away. He positions his son more securely on his hip, squares his shoulders and—feeling like a stupid Gryffindor—goes over and taps her on the shoulder. She turns around, looking up from the book on magical creatures she had been perusing, and Draco is—though he would never admit it, even to himself—slightly stunned. Enough to lose his breath momentarily.

He knew, objectively of course, that Adelaide was attractive. If he hadn't hated her guts so much during school he probably would have had a crush on her like the rest of the Flobberworm-brained population. She had been too thin in school though, and looked perpetually on Death's doorstep. Plus, she had the Weasely boys protecting her—the obnoxious twins, Fred and George, and the King Weasel himself, Ron. (He internally winced at the thought of the first twin, and refused to think about the fact that the Weasel King was his Auror partner. And that they worked quite well together when they weren't bickering.)

Now though, instead of the starved-sharpness and death-pallor, she seemed to actually be alive. Her hair—that Draco had always associated with a pool of blood—was long. He had always known her as the one girl with a boys haircut, never even reaching her shoulders, ever since meeting her in Madam Malkin's and the Hogwarts Express, but now her hair was long and flowing past her shoulders and down to her elbows. It was thick and healthy.

The skin over her cheekbones was not taught, not stretched too thin over sharp cheekbones, but pink from the cold December air. She looked to actually have some flesh on her instead of being just skin and bones. The biggest change though, was the fact that her lips kept tugging upwards unconsciously even though there was nothing to smile about. She seemed happy, and Draco realised for the first time that he had never seen her genuinely happy. Not even in first year before the whole mess with Voldemort had really begun. And he was struck by the thought, wanting to know what could make someone so unhappy that they never truly smiled. How could an eleven year old be so depressed?

He was shaken out of his thoughts though, when she recognised him and smiled unsurely at him, and he realised he had been quiet too long. He cleared his throat, "Hello… Adelaide."

"Hi Draco," she seemed relieved when he used her first name, and he supposed that it did sort of set the tone for the conversation, "how are you? Who's this?" She asked, looking at his son.

"This is my son, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy."

Adelaide stuck her hand out solemnly to his three year old son, who took it shyly, "Hello Scorpius, my name's Adel. Would you like to play with my son and daughter while your dad and I talk?"

Scorpius didn't speak, but he nodded, so Adelaide smiled.

"Simon! Sofia!" She called, and Draco, who was still frozen with the knowledge that Adelaide had children, just watched. The two children that came around into view from behind a shelf were about six, and both had Adelaide's blood red hair. The girl had a book clutched to her chest and looked at them with serious slate gray eyes. The boy looked solely at his mother with an open and endearing face, his silvery-blue eyes obscured by black rectangular framed glasses

"Yes Mummy?" Simon asked.

"Could you show Scorpius some of the books that you wanted to get? Maybe read him one?"

Sofia and Simon—Draco thought that they must be twins—looked at Scorpius, who Draco had set down. The little blond boy, looking exactly like his father but with a less pointed chin and chubby cheeks, stared at the two new children that were twice his age timidly. Simon wasn't having any of that though; he went right up to Scorpius and grabbed his hand, pulling him along, while Sofia said softly to the three year old, after nodding to her mother, "We'll show you some of the dragon books, they have cool pictures…."

Once the children were out of sight and hearing Adelaide turned back to Draco, "How have you been?"

Draco found himself giving her a short and concise summary of what had happened to him in the eleven years she had been… wherever she had been. He told her he had married Astoria, how his mother was, that he was an Auror now, and little things about Scorpius. "What about you?" Draco asked impatiently, "Where have you been?" He was trying to find a place where he could thank her for getting him out of prison, no matter how much it hurt his pride to do so.

"Well," she started slowly, "I moved to America—New York. I adopted my godson, Teddy Lupin. Professor Lupin's son, from third year?" She waited until he nodded that he remembered before she continued, "I gave birth to triplets, adopted a demigod son of Apollo, blood-adopted my cousin's son, and had a mind child with Athena—because she's a virgin goddess, right? We had to connect on an intellectual level.

"Hmm," she thought for a moment, "that's about it, I suppose." She stared at his face, trying valiantly to keep her own straight, before bursting out laughing. Draco didn't even want to know why his facial expression was so funny at that moment. "I'm sorry! I just had to see how you would react!"

"So that's not true?"

"Oh, it's true, I've just never told someone so bluntly before." She looked at him again, this time a tad sympathetically, "That's not what you were expecting when you came up to me is it?" Amusement still laced her voice.

"No," Draco shook his head, and was half-surprised that brains didn't come whipping out of his ears, considering his mind had just been blown, "I just wanted to thank you for getting my mother and I out of jail."

"Well… you're welcome."

September 10th 2009

Adelaide was babysitting Alexander and Stephen for George and Alessa—who were both taking a break due to approaching insanity if they stayed awake for one more minute—when the invitation came. It was just after breakfast and the twins were feeling very lively. The three of them were in the living room lying on a quilt that had been spread out onto the floor. Adel was just blowing on Stephan's stomach, making the four month old giggle, when she heard the scratching at the window.

"What could that be, huh?" She asked her nephews dramatically while getting up to open the window, where an exhausted brown owl came in, dropped a letter and flopped onto the sofa, falling asleep immediately. She took the letter and knelt back down by the twins, sitting on her heels.

She read through the letter, then turned to her nephews, "An invitation, huh? 'Dear Adelaide, I know we haven't talked in a long time, but Ginny and I were wondering if you, along with Teddy, James, Frederick, and Lily, would like to come to our home at Longbottom Manor to celebrate Christmas with us along with the whole Weasely family.' Hmm, I wonder if they would have ever mailed me if they hadn't known that they had nephews and a niece that they never knew about. Do you think that this was your grandma's idea?" Adelaide asked Alexander, who blew a raspberry at her, "Yes, I quite agree. 'We would love to have you. Please consider our offer, Love Neville and Ginny Longbottom.'

"What do you suppose I should do?" She asked Stephan, letting him chew on her fingers toothlessly. He stared at her. "Yes, your right, I do want to meet my nieces and other nephews, and they asked so nicely," Alexander hiccupped, "Don't you worry Alec, you and your brother will always be my favorite nephews. Nothing will change that." She considered, "Unless you happen to get another brother, of course." She laughed and blew on his stomach, making him squeal.

"Plus, they don't know about Michael, Simon, and Sofia, so that'll be fun."

December 13th 2009

Teddy felt really stupid. Like, the stupidest he had ever felt in his life, and there were a lot of times that he had felt stupid—not that he could remember any of them presently; he was too focussed on the current act of idiocy and the impending consequences. The four of them had been in the Room of Requirement—which they found out had survived being burned by Fiendfyre—doing their Charms essays that was due by the end of the week, and then Teddy and Lily had fallen asleep because the night before they had stayed up late to finish their History of Magic essay. Frederick and James had finished their work and then started playing a game of Wizard's Chess—which is always a mistake because they knew the others moves and so it took hours to actually finish a game. The twins had lost track of time and when they finally became aware of their surroundings it was close to twelve thirty and way past curfew.

Teddy and Lily were glaring at James and Frederick, who were ignoring them in favor of poking at the various knickknacks that were in Headmistress McGonagall's office.

"You could have woken us up!" Lily burst out, "Now we're going to lose House points and get detention and maybe even be expelled because of you two!"

"Hey," James defended, "we just lost track of time; it was an accident! How were we supposed to know that our dorm mates would go to the Prefects because we weren't back by midnight? Or that the Prefects—"

"Snooty little bastards," Frederick muttered, probably not intending for anybody to hear, but Lily unfortunately did.

"—would go to our Head and a manhunt would be organized to find us?" James continued on, at the same time that Lily reprimanded,

"Frederick!"

"Would you keep it down?" A nasally voice asked rudely, and when the four first years turned they saw it was a portrait of a previous Headmaster speaking, "Some of us are trying to sleep here!" Then the portrait closed his eyes as if to emphasise his point.

"Oh stuff it," Frederick muttered again. He was plainly not in a good mood—maybe because he had lost the game of chess to James.

"You must be the Potter brats Minerva's been talking about," another portrait sneered before Lily could scold her brother once more. "Rude, just as I expected."

"You'd be rude too if you could be sleeping right now," Frederick shot back.

"As a matter of fact, I could be sleeping right now if certain idiot first years could stay out of trouble."

The portrait was of a pale man with greasy black hair and dark eyes that reminded Teddy of tunnels. They were empty on first glance, but Teddy thought there might have been a spark of curiosity. "I'm Teddy Lupin," he introduced himself.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

A beat of silence. "Well?" Teddy prompted.

"Well, what?" The portrait snarled.

Frederick sneered in a wonderful imitation of the portrait. "Well, when someone introduces themselves the only polite thing to do is to give them your name back. Now who's rude?" He bit out.

James started giggling uncontrollably. He loved it when his brother was overtired, because while he was normally level-headed, when Frederick didn't get his eight to nine hours of sleep he was impertinent and snarky and brilliant. Their mum always said that he was channeling Severus Snape, the man who gave him his middle name. (When James was overtired—like now—he thought that everything was funny and couldn't stop laughing once he started.)

"Insolence! You must belong to Gryffindor with that kind of stupidity."

"I'll have you know," Frederick said snidely, "That I am a Hufflepuff, which you would know, you paint-made swot, if you used your eyes and looked at the color of my tie."

The pale man bared his yellowing teeth furiously, no doubt on the verge of a rant, but was interrupted by a throat being cleared. They all turned to see Headmistress McGonagall looking at them sternly, but her lips were twitching, as if she wanted to smile but thought it too unprofessional. "I see you've met Severus."

James came out of his laughing fit, looking up at the portrait their mother said was the bravest man she ever knew, "Whoa, you're Severus Snape?"

"Yes. What of it? No doubt your mother has told you all horrible things about me." The man looked down at them condescendingly.

That sent James off again, and he actually had to lean against McGonagall's desk. He shook his head hysterically, "No! N-no! Sh-she named her s-son after y-you!" He snorted three times, one after the other, then calmed down a bit, his eyes drooping, "By the gods I need sleep."

Frederick turned back to the man he had been having a verbal sparring match with, who was looking at James' limp form with an unidentifiable emotion, "Please don't let it be that one that's named after me."

"Don't worry." Frederick said in a mild voice, lifting a sardonic eyebrow, "His name is James Sirius Potter; I'm Frederick Severus."

Severus Snape looked down his hooked nose at the first year before sniffing in distain, "At least you're not giggling like a dunderhead."

December 24th 2009

Sofia did not want to meet the Weasleys or the Longbottoms. She felt that knowing Uncle George was enough, and didn't see the need for more. Plus, she was sure that at least some of them had hurt Mummy, because whenever she mentioned them—specifically Grandmother Molly, Uncle Ronald, and Aunt Ginerva—she got a bit sad. That, to Sofia, was unacceptable.

Her Mummy was the best in the world, and these relatives had been mean to her! What kind of people were they? Because the fact that they had hurt Mummy didn't suggest good things. No; not at all. They must be absolutely horrible, like the creepy lady with the black and white hair in 101 Dalmatians that wanted to kill all the cute little puppies. Who would want to hurt a baby puppy? These Weasleys must be alright with it if they had hurt her Mummy and not apologized.

Sofia and her siblings had all had a talk together when Frederick, Lily, Teddy, and James had come back for Christmas holiday from Hogwarts, while Mummy and Auntie Alessa were talking in the kitchen. They had congregated in Michael's room, as it was the biggest, and—almost—unanimously decided to be on their best behaviour so that they wouldn't be making it any more difficult than it had to be for Mummy. Sofia had only reluctantly agreed—hence the almost unanimous.

Sofia hadn't really understood what they were saying. She didn't want to go, they didn't want to go, and it was obvious that Mummy didn't want to go because it made her nervous and sad, so why did they have to? If they all told Mummy that they didn't want to spend Christmas with the Longbottoms and Weasleys that weren't Uncle George's small family, then she wouldn't make them. The best way though, the way to make it so Mummy didn't have to go either, was for one or two of them to be sick. Then Mummy would stay home to make sure that they were comfortable and make them chicken soup and let them have iced cream. And if Mummy can't go, she's not going to make any of them go without her. It was the perfect solution in Sofia's eyes.

She knew that her siblings wouldn't go for it though; they thought that Mummy chose to go of her own free will. Sofia knew better. Mummy was too nice to say no to the invitation, and these Weasleys and Longbottoms had known that was so and were manipulating her into spending time with them on Christmas Morning when it was supposed to be spent with just family.

These people were taking away her Mummy's Christmas, and Sofia knew how much Mummy loved Christmas, and it was especially special now that it was one of the few times that Teddy, Lily, James, and Frederick were going to be around because they went to Hogwarts. Mummy wouldn't be able to make the turkey or the stuffing or the potatoes. She wouldn't be able to tickle them when they jumped on her bed at six in the morning or have special moments with just them while opening presents. They wouldn't be able to come around the piano and listen to Mummy play and if they asked really nicely, sing for them. She wouldn't be able to make Michael dance with her after handing over the responsibility of playing the piano to James and Frederick, the flute to Lily, and singing to Teddy. Sofia and Simon wouldn't be able to take turns standing on Mummy's toes while she danced with them. Sofia wouldn't be able to crawl into Mummy's arms and ask about Daddy, and they wouldn't be able to fall asleep in the middle of the story about Daddy and Uncle George's pranks on the Mean Toad Lady.

Sofia wanted these things, and she knew that everyone else wanted these things, so she decided to take matters into her own hands and make sure that she was sick for Christmas. It was a worthwhile sacrifice.

So she stayed up all night reading and didn't stop even as the letters skipped and twirled across the page. She didn't stop even when she got sleepy, or when her head started to throb. She didn't stop because for this plan to work she needed to be legitimately sick—she didn't want to lie to Mummy.

And when the door opened the next morning at eight o'clock and Mummy walked in to help her into the fancy dress with the black velvet and the zipper, Sofia could barely keep her eyes open, there was a painful pulsing behind her eyes, and she had the familiar desire to cry like she always did when she felt sick.

December 25th 2009

"I don't feel well," Sofia said in an injured voice. "My head hurts."

"I know," Adelaide commented, "you've said that. That's why I gave you some aspirin, remember?" She kept brushing Sofia's hair gently, already having put her in her dress.

"Then why are we still going?" The six year old whined, giving Adelaide pause. She looked at the pinched features of her daughter, the grey smudges under her eyes.

"Sofia… did you get sick on purpose?"

Whatever reaction Adelaide was expecting, it wasn't for Sofia to burst into a fit of tears. "I d-don't want t-t-to g-go! I-I wa-want to st-stay h-home a-and have Ch-Cristmas h-here! Th-they're goin' to be m-mean to y-you!"

"Oh Sof," Adel sighed, pulling her sobbing daughter close. "They're not going to be mean to me, and you'll get to meet all your cousins. Uncle George and Auntie Alessa will be there too, and we'll have a celebration here tomorrow."

"Don' wanna," Sofia mumbled into her mother's shoulder.

"Sometimes we have to do things that we don't want to. That's just the way it is."

Sofia lifted her head, looking stubbornly into Adelaide's eyes, and thus a battle of wills.

Sometimes it's hard to keep track of the birthdays and ages of family members. It's thrice as difficult when you have as many family members as Charlie Weasely did. He had five brothers (minus one, but let's not dwell on that; happy thoughts) and a sister, and if that's not enough to keep track of, he has five nieces and four nephews. His sister hasn't even had any children yet, so he has that to look forward to. She'll probably have all girls.

He actually keeps a little notebook in his pocket at all times that has a list of the date of birth of his nieces and nephews and keeps it updated so he knows how old they are. It's a bit pathetic, but Charlie figures that since he's still a bachelor and has no kids he should be let off the hook. He doesn't see the same kind of importance in ages and birthdays as parents do, so right after he reminds himself of how old Victoire is or that Molly II was born April 1st of 2004, he forgets.

Thus, The List was created. (And yes, as a matter of fact, the capitals were necessary.)

It was a simple, to the point list just stating his nephew or niece's name and then their birth date in order:

Victoire-May 2nd 2000
Dominique-March 2nd 2002
Molly II-April 1st 2004
Louis-April 15th 2004
Rose-January 17th 2006
Hugo-May 7th 2008
Alexander-May 12th 2009
Stephan-May 12th 2009

Now, Charlie is waiting at Longbottom Manor with his mum and dad, Bill, Fleur, Percy and his wife Audrey, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, a very pregnant Luna and her husband Rolf, George and Alessa, along with all his assorted nieces and nephews. They were waiting for Adelaide and her children.

Charlie hadn't been close to Adelaide, him being several years older and living in Romania, but he had thought that she was nice. She had been like part of the family, and though Charlie had more regarded her as a distant cousin, he had thought that if they spent more time together he could think of her like a sister. He had been upset when he heard that his mother had told Adelaide after the war was finished that it would be best if she not contact her. His mum had said that she would owl post Adelaide when she felt ready. Charlie had been surprised and angry when Ron and Ginny had backed her up, and that Hermione hadn't stood up for her best friend.

It hadn't really been his business though, and he was going back to Romania so he'd let it be. He'd figured they would crack within a year. But they didn't. Now they find out that Adelaide had been pregnant with Fred's children when she left (had been told to leave) and everyone was in a tizzy. Mum was probably the worst, thinking of the grandbabies she had unknowingly neglected (and the fact that they were her dead sons only children made it worse) but Ron, Hermione and Ginny were berating themselves for being bad friends and generally being self-pitying in Charlie's opinion.

Charlie himself was regretful that he didn't reach out to Adelaide himself, but he'd hardly known her, and he figured that now would be the best time to make up for it. So he pushed aside the regret, got out his trusty List, and prepared to make some new additions.

"What time is it, dear?" Molly fretted as they all waited in front of the fireplace for Adelaide to Floo in.

"Ten after ten," Arthur reported, looking at his pocket watch.

"Chill out mum, she'll be here. Probably running a bit late in getting the kids ready," George said looking remarkably Zen, lying on a couch with his feet on Alessa's lap and Alec resting on his chest. Now that Charlie thought about it, George had been very calm about the whole Fred-Had-Kids-With-Adelaide business… one would think he would be the most distraught….

The fireplace flared green and spat out a short blond teenager, who skidded on the hardwood, "Whoa-whoa-whoa!" The teen just stopped himself from face planting, stood up and brushed the soot off his black blazer and dark-wash jeans. "This the right place? Longbottom Manor?"

"Yeah." George said, not even deigning to turn his head.

"Oh good. Mum and the others should be coming in about a minute. If I didn't go back through then they know everything's okay. I'm Michael by the way," the blond kid said.

There was an awkward pause before Michael nodded to himself, "You're right, we should probably wait for everyone to come through before we start introducing ourselves."

Charlie grinned, "Well I don't mind introducing myself twice; I'm Charlie. Why don't you have a seat while we wait?" He patted the cushion next to him on the loveseat.

Michael grinned back and made himself comfortable, but not before glancing in George's direction, which Charlie caught. Now, Michael could have just seen pictures of Fred and noticed how similar George looked (duh, twins) but Charlie didn't think so. Could it be…? Charlie thought with growing amazed amusement, Could George have really…?

The fireplace flared again, and Michael jumped up just in time to catch a dark haired girl and a blue haired boy stumble out. "You okay Ted? Lily?"

Lily coughed on soot as she nodded, and Teddy patted her on the back. Michael was brushing the dust off their clothes—a plum dress for Lily, and a similar outfit to what Michael was wearing for Teddy—and didn't stop even when the fireplace flared again.

This time two identical red haired boys came through, one of the twins carrying a younger boy with red hair on his back. They both landed perfectly, in contrast to Michael, Lily and Teddy.

"That was fun," the twin with the little boy on his back said cheerfully.

"No it wasn't Jay," the little boy whinged into Jay's shoulder.

"Now whining," the twin that wasn't Jay said. The little boy raised his head and made at face at him.

The fireplace turned green again, and a woman walked through with a bit of a stumble, a little girl in her arms. The way Charlie remembered Adelaide Potter was as a delicate little thing with eyes too large for her face and skin that reminded him of rice paper. He remembered her as a little girl, and truthfully he hadn't really taken her that seriously. He had been skeptical that she could stay on her feet if a breeze blew by her, much less defeat Voldemort.

The woman in front of him was nothing like the child he remembered. She had her hair in a half-bun, locks of hair, curled, framing her face, and a certain tallness to her (even though she was short) that said to Charlie she was completely comfortable with herself. Like she had found her place. She was wearing a pale purple dress that flowed and stopped just below her knees, and some really comfortable looking black flats.

"Everyone get here okay?" Adelaide asked Michael, who nodded.

George finally turned his head, and frowned when he saw Adelaide holding the little girl, "Hey Adel, what's wrong with Sofia?"

Charlie jumped up, "I knew it! I knew you had to have kept in contact with her! You were way too calm!" George looked at him in surprise and Adelaide laughed, along with her children.

"Told you someone would figure it out Uncle George," Teddy said. "You're no good at flying under the radar."

"Hey!" George said indignantly, then turned to his wife, "They're being mean to me!"

"No," Alessa said, "they're being truthful."

"I'm hurt!" George cried dramatically. "My own wife turned against me!"

"I was never on your side to begin with. There was no turning."

The banter might have continued, but Molly Weasley's brain seemed to have finally caught up with what was going on. "GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! How could you not have said anything?!" She cried, rosy cheeked, "How-how-how dare you keep the fact that Fred had children from your family! How dare you!"

Alec and Stephan started crying from the noise. Travis and Connor covered their ears with identical groans, "Great. Thanks for that," they said sarcastically. "They were finally being quiet and you've gotten them all worked up."

Molly looked embarrassed, especially when George and Alessa had to leave the room.

"And really," Travis said once his mom and George had left, "you told Aunt Adel not to contact you, why would George think that you would want to know what she was up to?"

"Plus," Connor added, "Aunt Adel probably didn't want you to know about her life once you'd told her to get lost."

Charlie, seeing that his mum was looking properly mortified to have made a scene and being told off by the step-grandchildren that she wasn't that close with, decided to cut in. His brothers looked too surprised to do anything, and everyone else looked incredibly awkward (though Luna was just smiling vaguely). "So… introductions?"

After introduction were done and Adelaide had explained that Sofia hadn't slept well the night before and had a headache, they had gone to the dining room to have some breakfast, which turned awkward right away.

"Oh," Adelaide said, "I'm sorry, but we already had breakfast at home."

"Well," Molly said with a smile, "the dears can always have some more. They look like they need some plumping up."

Charlie gave his new nieces and nephews a once over and thought that they were a pretty good weight.

"I don't want them overeating." Apparently Adelaide agreed with him. "But we can still sit at the table with everyone else."

Molly conceded.

Soon enough, after leaving Sofia to continue her nap on the sofa that George had previously been lying on, and getting an extra chair for Michael, they were all sitting at the table. Simon wouldn't let go of Adelaide so he was sitting in her lap, while Michael and the Stoll twins were sitting together and exchanging uncomfortable looks because of the tense atmosphere.

Eventually Teddy, Lily, Frederick and James started talking to the cousins that they had never met before, and Adelaide asked Luna about her pregnancy and when she was due. People started to relax, and George and Alessa returned with two quieted babies.

Then Simon finally lifted his face from where it was hidden in his mother's shoulder and asked her, "Juice?"

Molly jumped at the chance, grabbing a pitcher of pumpkin juice and pouring a glass, "Here you go dear."

Simon reached for it, but Adelaide took it first, "Simon you can't have that. It has pumpkin in it." She reached into the clutch she had brought with her, pulling out a juice box. "Here," she handed it to him once she had stuck the straw into it.

"Thank you," Simon murmured before leaning his cheek on Adelaide's shoulder and quietly drinking.

"Why can't Simon have pumpkin juice?" Molly asked, flabbergasted, her hand just starting to retract with the glass.

"He's allergic to pumpkins."

It was a little awkward again. Charlie noticed that his mum looked especially uncomfortable. He also notice that things tended to get awkward when his mum started talking.

"So Adelaide," Charlie said, "who's Simon and Sofia's dad?" He'd figured out pretty quickly that Michael was adopted. "And I noticed you're wearing a ring; who's your fiancé?"

She laughed, "Actually, I blood adopted Simon, and Sofia was sort of… given to me. I'm not engaged either, this is the ring Fred gave me."

"Who did you adopt Simon from?" Bill leaned forward, interested, "Did you know them or did you just decide to adopt?"

"And what do you mean Sofia was given to you? Did you blood adopt her as well?" Percy questioned.

"Mum's cousin asked her to take Simon," James pitched in.

"And Sofia isn't adopted, she's a brain child," Frederick said.

Lily elbowed Frederick, "Sev! Don't say that! It sounds weird!"

"It's true!"

"What Sev means," Michael said, "is that the virgin goddess Athena became mum's friend and connected with her on an intellectual level, so Sofia was birthed from Athena's head and left on mum's doorstep."

"You met the goddess of wisdom?" Hermione gasped excitedly while the others were trying to come out of their shock. "You must tell me about her! Was she very wise? I bet she was. Did she tell you about Olympus? Have you been to Olympus? Sofia's a demigod?"

"Is she as infested with Nargles as I suspected?" Luna asked seriously.

Adelaide stared at Luna just as solemnly, "Even more so."

Luna shook her head gravely and returned to her jam covered omelette.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Adelaide shrugged, "There's not much to tell, really. I didn't know her for very long, and she didn't tell me that she was a goddess, so she didn't talk about Olympus. I've never been there, but Travis, Connor and Michael have. They're demigods like Sofia."

Hermione turned to the three demigods. Travis' mouth was so full his cheeks looked like a chipmunks and Connor was folding a piece of toast in half, it being stuffed with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and what looked like raspberry jam. Michael was staring at Connor's improvised sandwich with a vacant look that somehow managed to convey his disgust.

Hermione ignored their antics valiantly. "Travis! Connor! You never told me that you were demigods!" Connor, who was just taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich, froze with wide eyes.

Travis swallowed violently, his eyes frantic as he coughed on the big mouthful, and rasped, "Ah crap."

"Which god is your father?" Hermione asked, intent.

"Hemfrees," Connor spoke around his food.

"Hermes," Travis said.

"Oh! He's the messenger of the gods, the god of travellers—"

"Yeah," the sons of Hermes said at the same time, "we know."

"Why didn't you tell me that you were demigods?"

"'Cause this would happen," Travis muttered, but Hermione had already moved on.

"Alessa! You were in a relationship with a god! How exciting! What did you learn? What—"

"Well, when we were together I wasn't really that concerned about learning outside of the bedroom, if you know what I mean." Alessa waggled her eyebrows.

"Alessa!" Molly cried, horrified, "There are children!"

Adelaide and George had started laughing, and Hermione was pink in the face.

"Is there any chocolate milk?" Lily asked.

"No, only regular milk," George told her.

"Oh," she drooped sadly.

"Do you want some regular milk?" Molly asked.

"No thank you Mrs. Weasley," Lily said politely, "I'm lactose intolerant."

"You can call me grandma dear, and if you can't have milk, why were you asking for chocolate milk?"

Lily and George gave her identical looks of incomprehension, "Chocolate milk is chocolate-y, Mrs. Weasley. It's worth it. Normal milk is bleh," Lily explained, making a disgusted look at the end that George mirrored.

"Well alright. And I told you dear, you can call me grandma. That goes for the rest of you too," Molly said warmly.

Lily exchanged a look with Frederick, who was beside her, and responded with a weak smile, "Um… alri—"

"I think," Adelaide cut in, "it would be better for them to get to know you better, perhaps, and then let them call you that once they are comfortable."

Molly opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but everyone saw how Lily, James, Frederick and Teddy had noticeably slumped in relief. She shut her mouth, and gave Adelaide a stiff smile.

Present opening was much easier to handle, in Adelaide's opinion. She had Sofia pressed against her, awake now but groggy, and she got to talk to her other nieces and nephews, asking them about their presents. Simon was quietly sitting in James' lap now, and Frederick was reading a book he'd gotten, while Lily and Teddy played a card game. Travis, Connor and Michael were talking quietly together, looking solemn; Adelaide knew they were talking about the war and the siblings that they'd lost.

Adelaide was glad that everyone had stopped asking her questions for the moment. She hadn't expected to feel such a disconnect from her old friends, to feel so detached. She'd thought that there would be sadness for the things she had missed in their lives, maybe even anger that they had cut her out, but all she felt was apathy. Adel realized that she'd moved on from these people of her past; she didn't need them anymore.

And she didn't want to go back to the person she was when she had needed them. She had grown up, yet when she spoke to her former friends, it was almost as if they had been frozen in time. Hermione was still on her constant search for information, Ron still played Wizards Chess, Ginny still played Quidditch, and Neville still loved Herbology.

Even with Luna, still so eccentric and fixated on her creatures….

"Having a good time?" She started at the voice, and looked at the man sitting beside her.

"I'm enjoying myself well enough," she replied.

Charlie Weasley gave her a crooked grin. "You want to get out of here as soon as possible, and I don't blame you."

She laughed. "Is it obvious?"

"Just a bit." Charlie chuckled. They were silent for a moment. "They're good kids." He said looking at her children. "You raised them well."

Adelaide felt pride for her children. "It's mostly their doing I think, but thank you."

Charlie glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Y'know, he wouldn't mind. Fred I mean, he wouldn't mind if you were with another guy. He wouldn't want you to be alone."

Adel snorted. "George has said the same thing. But I'm not alone. I have seven children. If I was going to be in a relationship it would have to be when they're older. When they need me less."

"When you get lonely, you mean," Charlie said, looking at her critically.

She lifted Sofia, who had fallen back to sleep, onto her lap. She hugged her closely. "Yes," Adel replied in a soft voice, "I suppose."