EPILOGUE

Chapter 38: New Beginnings

December, 12 years later

"Mummy! Mamá! It's Chriiiiiistmaaaaas!"

Something landed with a thump on my leg and I groaned into my pillow. Before I could open my mouth to protest, the heavy weight crawled up and started shaking my shoulder.

"Mummy, Mummy! You gotta wake up!"

I cracked my eyes open to catch a glimpse of our son grinning down at me with glittering eyes, then he rolled, straight into Santana and on top of her.

"Mamá! Christmas Day! Father Christmas came, he left me loads of presents!"

"Happy Christmas Joey," Santana mumbled, blinking several times as she slowly lifted herself into a sitting position. "Is your sister up yet?"

"Emily's still in bed, reading. She's boring. She said not to wake you, but it's Christmas!"

"Well you can tell her she can come in here as well. I'm sure if you ask nicely she'll help you with your stocking."

"Don't need help from her!" Joseph shouted as he tumbled off the other side of the bed, sprinting out of the room. I heard his shrill shout echo across the hallway. "Emily, get up! Es Navidad!"

Santana sighed, and I reached across to take her hand.

"It'll be fine, don't worry," I murmured.

A few moments later, Joseph appeared again, his blue stocking bulging with presents. It dragged along the floor as he struggled to pull it into the room, and a soft, lilting voice called from behind him.

"Joseph, do you need any help?"

"No!"

Emily entered the room a second later, carrying her own, brand new stocking. She was biting her lip, her eyes following Joseph as he scrambled back up onto the bed, but as her gaze shifted to me, and then Santana, her eyes shone. She hurried over to hug me, murmuring 'Happy Christmas' in one ear, then walked around the bed to do the same for Santana. Lifting Joseph's stocking onto the bed for him prompted a fierce scowl in her direction – but fortunately he then realised the significance of having everyone in the room and stockings on the bed, because he bounced up onto his knees.

"Presents!"

I grinned and nodded.

"Off you go, then."

He dived into his stocking before I'd even finished the sentence, digging his hand around until he found a sufficiently big present to start off with. He tugged it out, making the point to feel all over before starting to rip the paper. The plastic casing featured a moving figure dressed in blue quidditch robes, swinging a beater's bat in one hand and beaming out at Joseph, waving every now and again.

"It's Marling!" Joseph screeched, pulling the box up close to his eyes. "He's even got the special broom! Look, mummy!"

He pushed the figurine towards me, gesturing frantically at the customised Nimbus the Puddlemere beater was famous for. He pulled it back, staring again for several long seconds before placing it carefully to one side and reaching into his stocking again.

"Ah, wait Joseph – Emily opens something next."

Joseph opened his mouth to protest, noticed Santana's stern expression, and snapped it shut again with a humph. Emily was stiff, her eyes flicking between Joseph and Santana, and I smiled reassuringly at her.

"Go on, it's your turn," I prompted.

She nodded, reaching for the present resting right at the top of her stocking and pulling it into her lap. She paused, a smile flickering at her lips as she felt down one side, obviously recognising the feel of a book. Unwrapping it, her expression lit up even more at the sight of the familiar cover of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It was thicker than usual, because alongside the stories were plentiful watercolour pictures. Santana had spotted it in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago and bought it straight away. Emily already knew every story by heart, but her old copy had got lost sometime over the last year, and she'd been devastated when she realised. Of course this could never replace the version passed down to her in her parents' will, but hopefully it would make up for it a little. And since she was already absorbed in it, it seemed to have gone down fairly well.

Joseph was twitching where he sat, doing his best to be patient but one hand already reached out and touching the present he had obviously decided to open next. Sometimes he reminded me so much of Santana it was hard to believe they weren't biologically related. Santana rolled her eyes and nodded at him and he pulled the present quickly into his lap, not pausing to feel this time before ripping it open to reveal a Zonko's toy sneakoscope.

The unwrapping moved along at a rapid pace, especially once Joseph got used to the idea of not being the only one opening presents. Soon, two hefty piles of quidditch paraphernalia, books, chocolate frogs and a pair of new winter cloaks were heaped up on the floor on each side of the bed. Joseph was sat in the middle of his, attempting to persuade his plastic quidditch player to fly in a straight line, while Emily was laid out across the end of the bed, already one chapter into the book on famous squibs. I smiled over at Santana, taking her hand and squeezing lightly. So far, despite a few minor hiccups, Christmas with the four of us was going very well. I just had to trust that the rest of the day would go so well.

"Okay kids, we can't stay in bed all day. Up you get, go get dressed, we can't be late for lunch!" Santana announced.

Joseph let out a quiet groan at the reminder, his figurine dropping to the floor.

"Can't we have Christmas dinner here?" he murmured, his shoulders drooping.

"No, we're going round to see abuelo and abuela like we always do," I told him. Silently I sympathised with him – I would much rather we didn't have to go see Santana's parents as well – but admitting that would just give him fuel to argue. And this Christmas dinner was going to be hard enough to get through already without making it worse.

Joseph nodded mournfully, picking up as many of his presents as he could to carry back into his room. Santana slipped out of bed to pick up the rest, and I did the same to help Emily. She was struggling to balance a stack of books under her chin, and I reached out to grab some before they could topple over, following her across the landing to her room. We'd decorated it red and gold at her request – her parents had both been in Gryffindor, and much to Joseph's disgust she also supported the Wigtown Wanderers, which sported the same colours. A smile played on my lips at the memory of her discovering we were friends with Mike, the Wigtown seeker, when he had knocked on our door just a few days after she'd properly moved in with us.

Settling the rest of her presents down next to the neat pile she was forming at the end of her bed, I knelt down next to her to help. I spoke up quietly as I did so, not wanting Joseph to hear.

"We won't be staying too long," I told her. "Just for Christmas dinner, and maybe an hour after – then we'll be back."

She shrugged, seemingly absorbed in stacking her books, but the smile had disappeared from her face.

"It's okay. We can stay as long as you like."

I held in a sigh, wishing once again that Santana's father had not been quite so obvious in his dislike of Emily. Her mum had actually been nicer than I'd expected – but I was still dreading what he might say, despite Santana's mum reassuring us she'd warned him numerous times and he'd be fine.

"Just say if you want to leave, okay?"

Emily shrugged again, turning to face me properly.

"They're her parents. It's Christmas."

I nodded in understanding, squeezing her hand lightly and standing to call across to where I could hear Joseph's sneakoscope whistling loudly.

"Joseph stop playing with your toys and get ready, we're leaving in half an hour!"

"Santana, feliz navidad!"

Her mother bustled over with as much enthusiasm as I had ever seen in her, even going so far as to hug her and ask several hurried questions in Spanish. It took her a few moments to register anyone else's presence, but when she did she give me a thin-lipped smile and nod, then did the same to our children. Joseph smiled earnestly up at her, and her smile widened a little. Despite everything, Joseph still wanted to please her – and yet she could never quite forget that I had been the one to give birth to him, and not Santana. She had said several times that he was a clever little boy, and would oblige him with the occasional gift – but she had never referred to him as her grandson. Some affection was there, more than for any other child she might bump into, but even though Joseph was young he could still tell it was not the same as how my parents doted on him. Emily remained glued to my side, the same polite smile painted on her face as I had seen the first time I had met her, in my office at the Ministry.

"Did Papá Noel get you anything exciting?" she asked, a degree of interest showing in her expression as she focused on Emily and Joseph.

Joseph nodded immediately, relaxing a little as the conversation turned to something easier for him to get excited about.

"Yeah! A Robbie Marling toy and lots of Zonko's and some really really cool socks!"

Santana's mother lifted one eyebrow as she gestured us through the hallway towards the dining hall. As we passed the kitchen I could hear an army of house elves bustling around, calling to each other with squeaky, tense voices.

"Socks?"

I stopped suddenly when Joseph halted right in front of me, lifting one leg and pulling up his trousers to reveal blue socks. Several tiny gold snitches flew around his ankles.

"See? They're amazing!"

Santana's mum nodded with another smile but didn't say any more on the matter as we entered the dining hall. I tensed a little as I saw Dr Lopez already sat at the head of the table, reading a letter. He rose when he noticed us, giving Santana a genuine smile and sending a grimace in my direction. He barely even glanced at Joseph and Emily.

"Feliz navidad. ¿Cómo estás?"

"Muy bien. How are you?" Santana responded. I was grateful to her for switching back to English – for Emily's sake as well as mine – but her father obviously didn't agree.

"Bien, bien."

"¡Estoy bien tambien!" Joseph piped up quickly, the hope on his face showing through plainly. His Spanish wasn't perfect by any measure, but he tried. Dr Lopez acted like he hadn't even heard him, keeping his attention on Santana and saying something else in Spanish that I couldn't understand. Emily was hanging back again, and Joseph turned to look back at me in uncertainty. I gestured both of them into seats on either side of me. Santana glanced over looking regretful, as she replied in English once again.

"No, Papá, they are not putting me in dangerous situations. They know I have children; they've placed me on the non-hazardous missions list. I told you that before."

Dr Lopez grunted, settling back down in his chair. Santana sat opposite us, leaving the space between them for her mother to occupy. A house elf bustled in a second after we were all seated and started offering drinks around.

"So Brittany, how is your job going? I hear you've just recruited some new staff?" Santana's mum asked politely. Dr Lopez settled back in his chair, but otherwise didn't comment.

"It's really good!" I replied, my enthusiasm slightly forced and a little surprised that she was asking me. She wasn't exactly the biggest fan of the Muggle Liaison Office – in fact she'd attempted to cut its funding just last year. "The interns are doing great, and the work experience programme I'm setting up for Hogwarts students is almost ready – we'll be starting applications soon."

"Yes, I suppose it is good for the pupils to see all areas of the Ministry," she said with a nod of her own. I ignored any negative implications that were probably buried in that sentence about my department, and smiled across at Santana instead. She was practically beaming thanks to the brief but civil conversation I'd had with her mother.

"'Scuse me, are there any carrots?" Joseph asked a house elf as it topped up his glass with orange juice. The elf's eyes bugged out and its mouth dropped open a bit as it glanced across the table at another house elf. I bit my lip to stop myself smiling too much as the other house elf shrugged, looking just as mystified by the little wizard who was actually talking to house elves – and not just demanding something. I'd never liked how the Lopezes treated their house elves. At least we'd brought up our son well enough to use manners, even when talking to elves.

"Uh… yes sir. Would sir like some now?"

Joseph giggled. "I'm not a sir!"

The house elf blinked again. "Would… Master Lopez-Pierce like some carrots now?"

That made Dr Lopez's head jerk up, and the house elf cowered under his glare.

"Sorry sir, carrots aren't ready," he squeaked, placing the topped up glass of juice back on the table then hurrying out of the room. Joseph stared after him, mystified, then turned to fix his own glare at Dr Lopez.

"I like not-cooked carrots!"

"There'll be plenty of food soon, Joey," Santana said from across the table, a strained smile on her face as she tried to divert the conversation away from a potential argument. Joseph was pouting like he did when he thought we were being unfair to Daisy by not letting her stay in his bedroom at night, or not feeding her enough. He'd taken to topping up her food bowl, saying she was a growing cat and needed energy, and she'd started to look a lot like Lord Tubbington had before his diet. As adorable as it was that he was feeling defensive about a house elf, that was bound to start up an argument about how he hadn't been raised properly. Although it beat me why Dr Lopez cared about how Joseph was raised when he refused to acknowledge him the rest of the time.

The awkward silence lasted about a minute before a troop of house elves shuffled in, a giant turkey hovering above them and surrounded by other steaming dishes of vegetables and roast potatoes and stuffing. Joseph stopped fidgeting and perked up, and Emily shuffled into a proper sitting position as well from where she'd slid partially down her chair.

"Look at the carrots!" Joseph hissed quietly to himself as the house elf from before deposited the giant bowl right in front of him. The house elf pressed his lips together but didn't completely hide his smile as he scurried out again. All the other house elves quickly disappeared as well once the food was arranged flawlessly on the table, except for one who hung back behind the table of drinks, ready to pop out again at the slightest sign that someone might need a refill.

I waited along with Santana – and, fortunately, Joseph and Emily as well – until the enchanted spoons had dished out food onto everyone's plates and Dr Lopez had taken the first bite. It was never good to appear too eager in the Lopez household. I still had strong memories of being told off by Santana's abuela as a child for being greedy, because I had reached for her birthday cake before anyone else. So long ago now – but some things were still the same.

And yet others were different. I was sat across the table from my wife, with our two beautiful children on either side of me. Whatever people might say about it, they were both ours. We were a family.

"Santana, your abuela sends her regards," Dr Lopez said, one hand gesturing to the letter resting on the table next to him.

I did my best to hold in a sigh. Back to reality.

Santana nodded stiffly, forcing a smile but not replying.

"She says you are more than welcome to join us for our New Year's Eve party."

I winced when the metal of Santana's fork knocked loudly against the side of her plate.

"We've been through this, Papá."

"Not now, Hernando…" Santana's mother murmured, reaching out to press her hand over his. He snatched it away.

"Your protestations are as pointless as ever, Santana," he snapped. "You are not a child anymore. You are a Lopez, and certain things are expected of you."

"My family are Lopezes as well, Papá," Santana replied, her eyes darting across to meet mine, flashing fiercely. I gazed back for a few seconds, then turned my attention to Joseph and Emily. Joseph was stabbing at his carrots, doing his best to ignore the growing tension, while Emily was slouching again, staring up at me anxiously. I gave her a reassuring smile, but my heart pounded against my chest with worry as Santana glared across at her father, daring him to challenge her.

"Don't be difficult. Insisting on bringing Brittany and her son is bad enough, but you think your abuela will accept a squib? It's a Ministry party!"

"Hernando!" Santana's mother snapped, a lot more fiercely than before – but the damage was done. I squeezed Emily's hand, which had sneaked into my lap while Santana's father was speaking. I watched Santana anxiously, half-expecting her to blow up like she always used to. She stayed in her seat, but acid dripped from her tongue as she spoke. She was just as angry as I'd expected, but she was doing extremely well at holding it in.

"They are my family. More than you have ever been. I will not come to your party without them just because abuela doesn't like it. We all come, or none of us," she told him coldly, glaring for several seconds before turning back to her plate and taking a bite. Her shining eyes met mine once again, but then softened when her attention shifted over to smile gently at Emily. Her clasp on my hand relaxed a little, and I felt a burst of affection for Santana. She'd come so far. Once upon a time words like that coming from her father would have sent her into a rage – but now she cared more about our children, who'd both got upset the last time that had happened. She just gave him the facts – even if she wasn't very friendly about it – and reassured Emily with a simple smile that we, unlike so many others at the Ministry, were not going to push her aside just because she had no magic.

Dr and Mrs Lopez looked like they were having a war to see who could glare the most. Santana's mum apparently won, because a few seconds later Dr Lopez returned to focusing on his meal. There was a tense silence as everyone did the same – but at least it was better than arguing on Christmas Day. Emily's hand disappeared from my lap and for several minutes there was just the scrape of cutlery against the fine china plates.

"Why's it matter that Emily's a squib?"

I blinked in surprise, turning my head to find Joseph staring down at his plate, a frown on his face.

"It doesn't matter," I told him in a low voice, hoping to prevent any other questions that were likely to start arguments. As proud as I was that he actually thought to question that, I really just wanted us to finish the meal and get out of the Lopez house as soon as possible, to finish our Christmas in easy happiness.

Joseph nodded uncertainly, twirling a carrot round on the end of his fork, then turned to look straight at Santana's dad.

"See Mr Lopez? There's no reason Emily can't come. She'll act way better than Don Puckerman. She's never naughty – not like Don, anyway. So it's okay, we can all come, and you don't have to get mad with mamà."

My eyebrows rose as I processed what Joseph had just said. Not only was he standing up for Emily, which was a shock in itself considering the bubbling resentment ever since we had officially adopted her – but he was also saying it to try and look after Santana. I couldn't prevent a proud smile; but it quickly shifted into worry when I took in the expression on Dr Lopez's face.

"You are a child. You do not understand wizarding etiquette. Having a squib at a wizarding event is offensive to all who realise. And all will realise with how much this girl has been skulking around the Ministry for the past two years."

I was unaware of Santana moving until I felt her behind me, one hand on my shoulder.

"We are leaving, papà. You cannot speak to my family like this and expect me to stay," she hissed, reaching for Emily's hand. Dr Lopez barely even glanced at her – and neither did the blonde five-year-old sat next to me.

"That's not nice!" Joseph replied louder, sitting up straight in his chair and dropping his fork to the plate with a clang. "No I dunno what eti-cat means, but that's not nice! She isn't offensible! She's my sister!"

"Papà!" Santana snapped again, but he paid no attention to her.

"And your sister should have been sent to the muggle world when she came into Ministry care, not allowed to loiter with wizards!"

Joseph tried to jump off his chair, but he was so small he ended up tumbling off the edge of it. I stood as well, ready to catch him but also to intervene if needed. Santana was right, it was time to leave.

"You're horrible!" Joseph screeched once he'd regained his balance, staring straight into the face of the man who might have been his grandfather. "She never did nothing to you! It's not her fault she can't do magic! You're just… you…" His face was screwed up as he tried to form his words. "You're mean! You're really really mean and it's not nice!" He finished his sentence with a stamp of his foot, right before I scooped him up from behind. He struggled, lashing out and managing to kick the corner of Dr Lopez's seat before I pulled him away, starting to shout at him again as I carried him out of the room. Dr Lopez's voice floated after me, criticising me for raising such an out of control child – but Santana's mum spoke next, and despite everything I smiled.

"Actually, I think he rather takes after Santana…"

"Sorry for ruining Christmas, mamà…"

Santana smiled fondly down at Joseph, who stood forlornly in front of her with his head bowed.

"You didn't ruin Christmas, Joey. You're right. Abuelo isn't very nice. And you stood up for your sister. I'm proud of you."

She kissed the top of his head, and Joseph beamed in response. He leaned up to kiss her cheek.

"Happy Christmas mamà. Happy Christmas mummy," he added, turning to me. I smiled back at him, then nodded at Emily who was sat by my feet, reading one of her books. Joseph hesitated, then sank to his knees and wrapped his arms tight around her. Emily dropped her book in surprise at the sudden display of affection, then tentatively hugged him back. "I'm sorry abuelo was mean to you, Emily. He's stupid."

"It's okay, Joseph. There's lots of stupid people at the Ministry."

It hurt that she was so aware of how they viewed her – but how could she not be, when I'd had to fight to stop her being sent to a muggle foster home barely a few days after her parents died; and then there had only been suspicions that she was a squib. She was safe with us now, though. As safe as she would ever be.

"You're a nice sister," Joseph mumbled. "But you're still stupid for not supporting Puddlmere," he added, poking her arm. She giggled and poked him back.

"Never. Wigtown Wanderers beat Puddlemere any day."

"No!" He shook his head adamantly, scrambling off her to grab his action figure and pushing it towards her so it started flying around her head. "Marling's the best beater ever! He's gonna knock all the Wigtowns off their brooms!"

She laughed again, batting the toy away so it landed next to Daisy. The cat growled, stretching in protest, and it fell off the sofa into Joseph's outreached hand.

"Marling swerves away from the giant cat, zooming through the air to send a bludger right through the goal hoops, 'cause he's so great a player he could be a chaser too!"

Joseph ran off down the opposite end of the room, throwing up the toy every now and then to let it fly on its own before catching hold of it to make it change direction.

"No, look, the Wigtown keeper flies in and saves it!" Emily called, grabbing the Wigtown teddy she had – to our shock – been given by Santana's mum before we left, and hurrying over to move in front of Joseph.

"Yeah, well, Marling's gonna go knock the Wigtown keeper out the stadium!" Joseph shouted back, darting around her and running out of the room.

"It's gonna be too late, Chang's closing in on the snitch!"

Barely a minute later, the sound of running feet had moved to Joseph's bedroom right above our heads, accompanied by a muffled crash that was probably Joseph's crate of various quidditch toys being emptied onto the floor.

The sofa next to me sank down and I turned to smile at Santana, slipping my hand into hers and leaning in to kiss her softly. I felt some tension still in her and lifted an eyebrow, silently asking.

She sighed, turning to stare over at our Christmas tree. "We shouldn't have gone to my parents'. It upset Emily."

"I think Joseph was more upset than Emily," I pointed out. Throughout the entire meal, Emily had remained the calmest out of everyone. She really was used to it. "Your mum's right though. He does take after his mamà. I remember a girl who had a screaming match with her dad because he said something bad about her best friend having a muggle dad, even though the girl's best friend didn't care."

"Really shouldn't be proud of him for throwing a tantrum…" Santana murmured under her breath, and I laughed.

"Probably not. But he did throw it well."

"True. And we can't fault his target."

"Shall we let it go this once?"

"I think so," Santana agreed with a smirk. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the sounds of Joseph belting out a Puddlemere anthem and Emily's failing attempts to interrupt. "Do you think Emily is gonna be okay?"

I paused, then nodded. "She'll be fine. She's a fighter. She's like you as well," I commented.

"You too," Santana replied, squeezing my hand. "You fought for us."

"We both fought for us. And we won."

I twisted our conjoined hands so that my wedding ring flashed in the light. The reminder of that wonderful day seven years ago made me brave enough to bring up a subject I had been wanting to talk about for a little while now.

"I… think I want to change jobs."

Santana looked surprised, but didn't say anything. She just waited for me to explain.

"No one respects the Muggle Liaison Office. Which I never minded – but it hasn't changed. It's got worse. They tried to push Emily at us even though she's not a muggle, because none of them wanted to deal with her. And it's never going to change, as long as people view muggles like that."

"I know, Britt, they're idiots. But I don't know how we can change their minds. Some people just refuse to listen."

"I know I can't make it better. But… I think I can help stop it getting any worse. Holly – you know, Professor Holliday – sent me a letter a few weeks ago. She's retiring. Well, kind of. She's going to live as a muggle somewhere in America. Something about new experiences. And singing. She didn't make much sense."

Santana nodded, looking understanding even though I was pretty sure I wasn't explaining this well. I took a deep breath and tried again.

"Anyway. In the letter. She asked me to apply as the next Muggle Studies professor. She thinks I'd be good at it."

Santana's eyes widened. "Brittany, that's great! Why didn't you tell me before?"

"…You think I should?"

"Of course! I mean, if you want to. It's your choice. But that's an amazing opportunity – and she's right, you'd be brilliant! You got me through my OWL and NEWT."

"You think I'm good enough? To be a teacher?"

The possibility that I might actually be good enough for this bubbled up into hope I'd been suppressing ever since getting the letter. I'd never been a very good student at Hogwarts. I was good at Muggle Studies – but was that enough? Didn't you have to be smart to be a teacher?

"Of course you're good enough, Brittany. You know so much about muggles – and you can explain it. I could never have explained to Joey how a TV works like you did that time. You should apply. You want to, don't you?"

I nodded. How could I not want to? Hogwarts had been my home for so many years – and my job at the Ministry got less enjoyable every day. It had been wonderful at first and I was so glad I'd worked there, but I didn't want to anymore. Looking out for Emily for the past two years as they tried to get her out of the wizarding world had disillusioned me from the Ministry.

"Then do it. Write to Professor Holliday and tell her you're applying. Professor Figgins might remember you too, if he's still there."

Santana our hands to her lips and kissed my knuckles.

"You should do what makes you happy. I'll help you. Always."

She rearranged our hands so that it was just our little fingers linked together. I couldn't remember the last time we'd done that. It brought back a rush of memories from Hogwarts; memories of classes and detentions, the prefects' bathroom, and of course our room. That was all out of my reach now even if I did go back – except perhaps the Room of Requirement. But I still remembered all the reading I had done when I was trying to find it nineteen years ago for Santana. The Room of Requirement only appeared to those who had real need of it. We had needed it when we were at Hogwarts. To comfort each other. To be with each other. To begin the foundations of what we were today. But those foundations were all poured now; we were together, we had a family. We didn't need a room to hide in anymore.

I wanted to see it again, of course. But I didn't need it. And I had a feeling that if I did return to Hogwarts, however many times I walked down that corridor trying to think our room into existence, it would never appear for me again.

And there it is, the real end. Something a bit more concrete than just my PMs saying what happens to them. As well as this epilogue I've gone through and edited, and also created a PDF of the whole story which can be found here:

laurasfantasia. com
/bumpy-ride-pdf

Thank you once again for reading :)