"So," Fred cleared his throat, breaking the silence at the dinner table. "What do you do for a living, Mr. Snape?"

"Used to work at the mill," Tobias said, stabbing his steak a bit too forcefully. "Man's work. They closed it down and now there was only pansy work left."

"In other words," Severus said dryly, "he's unemployed."

"People don't appreciate their elders anymore," Tobias snapped. "Since we came back from the war—

Severus rolled his eyes. "You weren't in the war," he interrupted. "Just because you watched television during the conflict—

"We were an effected generation!" Tobias growled. "And now we have nothing!"

"You have nothing because you drank it away," Severus muttered.

"I made pie," Elizabeth said, standing up suddenly. "Who wants pie?"

"I do!" Fred said, a little too enthusiastically. "I'll help you get it."

"No, no, you stay," Elizabeth looked meaningfully at the Snape men, who were locked in a glaring contest before darting into the kitchen.

"When are you going to stop harping on me about that?" Tobias glared at his son. "It's been decades."

Severus looked at the clock on the wall. "It's only been about half an hour, so I've quite a bit of time left, I'd imagine."

"Severus, I've been clean for ten years. I'm not saying I'm a good person, but I'm different than I was."

"I wish I could believe that," Severus muttered.

Fred reached for another piece of bread, knocking over the pitcher of water Elizabeth had placed in the middle of the table.

Tobias swore and pushed his chair back from the table. Fred groaned, and pulled out his wand, drying the water and restoring the napkins and tablecloth to their previous. Elizabeth, coming back from the kitchen, paused when she saw her father. The man was wincing, his hand gripping his napkin too hard. Elizabeth could remember only a handful of times Severus had worn that expression, and none of those occurrences were on her happy-moments list.

Elizabeth carried the pie over to the table, but stood beside her father's chair, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Fred, could you cut that for me?"

Tobias was still looking at the now-dry table. "So your one of them?" He turned his glare to Fred.

Fred raised an eyebrow, looking up from the pie. "People who love pie?"

"A wizard," Severus said, clearing his throat. "You didn't think I grew out of the condition, did you?"

Tobias looked back at the empty pitcher. "Didn't know there were so many of you."

Severus gritted his teeth. "It's uncommon for wizards and witches to marry Muggles," he said. "For obvious reasons." The words dripped off his tongue like acid cough syrup.

"Your mother kept that freaky stuff out of the house," Tobias grumbled.

Fred looked at Elizabeth, seeing the pain at the word "freaky" pass over her face, and suddenly had a great desire to punch the oldest man in the room. I don't even need a wand to set you straight, he thought darkly.

Severus snorted at the insinuation that his mother had never used her wand in the house. "No she didn't," he frowned. "She was always using it to clean up your mess."

"How would you know?" Tobias growled. "You were always down the street with your freaky friend. That ginger girl." He looked at Fred. "You her kid?"

"No," Elizabeth broke in, tightening her grip on Severus' shoulder. "I am. And she wasn't a freak."

Tobias looked at his son. "Couldn't find a decent British girl?"

Severus' expression darkened. "Magical power doesn't make us less British," he said softly, wondering even as he said it why this implication that Lily wasn't English bothered him more than anything else that the older man had said about her. "Was mum not British?"

Tobias glared at him. "You don't get to talk about her," he said, dripping his napkin tightly. "You went off to that damn school and she died."

"You can't possibly be blaming me for that," Severus said, narrowing his eyes. "Not when she spent her whole life being your servant."

"Wasn't like that until she had you," Tobias muttered. "She had gotten away from all that crap until you started doing freaky things."

Fred, having long ago abandoned the pie, eyed both men awkwardly. His first instinct was to throw Tobias out of the house, and shield his family from the conflict that was running rampant at the table. But it wasn't his home, and he wouldn't embarrass his father-in-law by presuming that he couldn't manage his own household.

However, it didn't mean that he had to stand by while this man insulted his wife's mother. "Betsy," Fred walked purposefully toward the kitchen. "I need to talk to you for a second."

Elizabeth looked warily at her father, but, deciding that it was unlikely that Severus would kill the other man, followed her husband into the kitchen.

"Let them duke it out," Fred said when they were in the other room.

"We shouldn't leave him alone out there," Elizabeth said nervously, looking toward the door.

Fred shook his head and put his arms around her, tucking her against his chest. "I'm pretty sure Severus can take an old Muggle," he said, playing with her hair. "You don't need to be wrapped up in this. It's their baggage."

Elizabeth put her arms around his waist. "I don't know why Dad even put himself through this. Inviting him here."

"Family is tricky," Fred smoothed her hair. "Besides, you know how loyal Snape is. He stuck by Draco through things much worse than a ruined childhood."

Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, but you should have seen him when Draco insulted Mum."

"Worse than when he impersonated a Dementor?"

Elizabeth nodded. "He sent me out of the room, he was so mad." She grinned. "Not that I could hear anything. When he's really angry, he goes quiet."

As if thinking the same thing, Elizabeth and Fred stopped and listened to the silence in the dining room. "Maybe we should check on them," Elizabeth said quietly.

But before they could leave the kitchen, they heard the front door open and close.

"Dad?" Elizabeth went out into the dining room.

Severus was re-entering the room from the entranceway. "We should clean this up," he said simply, motioning to the table.

Elizabeth searched his face for a moment. "Okay," she agreed carefully. "Why don't you take the pie back to school? You can have it for dessert tonight. Or breakfast tomorrow."

"Mm," Severus moved around the table, clearly distracted.

Elizabeth was quiet, clearing plates; all the time, sharing meaningful looks with Fred.

"Your grandmother is planning a Liberation Day celebration," Severus said suddenly, as he vanished the crumbs from the tablecloth. He looked out the back window. "She wants you to speak."

"Dad…" Elizabeth grimaced. "I don't know. I'm not very good at that kind of thing."

"Sure you are," Fred said, setting a washing spell on the dishes. "You were amazing when you were leading Dumbledore's Army."

Elizabeth was about to reply about how that circumstance and this one were completely different when the floo roared and they heard footsteps in the living room.

"Remus?" Severus looked into the living room. "You're late."

"I know," Remus came through the door, Teddy in one arm and his wand in the other.

"Down!" Teddy demanded, struggling. "Bet! Bet!"

Remus put the toddler down, more gently than he really wanted to. Teddy ran, slamming into Elizabeth's knees. "Bet!"

"Hey, buddy," Elizabeth bent to pick him up, but he pulled away, spinning around and falling on his diapered butt.

Remus winced at the high-pitched screech that came from his child. "As you can see," he said, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, "We've entered the terrible twos a bit early."

"Here," Elizabeth picked up the screaming child and carried him back into the living room, where she sat him on the floor. The adult wizards followed, watching as she waved her wand and summoned a VHS tape. Shoving the cartridge into the player under the television, she turned it on and hit play.

"Get ready to wiggle!"

Teddy stopped screaming and looked at the screen, his eyes going wide. Carefully, he scooted forward into his hands and pushed himself up, bottom first. Padding over the television, he reached out to touch the dancing, colorfully-dressed men.

"Wiggle will make you big and strong!"

Teddy giggled, moving his hips to the silly music. "Ggle!" He giggled, pointing at the screen and looking at Remus. "Daddy! Ggle!"

Elizabeth turned to go back in the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked.

"He'll be fine for," Elizabeth glanced at the box that was still in her hands. "52 minutes. Are you hungry?"

"I love you," Remus said tiredly, following her into the kitchen, Fred and Severus in tow.

"There's something to be said for Muggle technology," Elizabeth said.

"As long as you don't let him sit in front of that thing for hours," Severus said, frowning.

"I need sanity," Remus said, sinking back into a wooden chair. "At least until he can read."

"Here," Elizabeth set a plate of food in front of him. "Do you want pie? We didn't get that far."

"Where is Tobias?" Remus asked, looking at his watch. "I'm only 20 minutes late."

"Dinner ended early," Severus said simply, sitting across from his friend.

Fred looked at Elizabeth. "We should probably get going," he finished putting the last of the dishes away. "Remus, would you like us to take Teddy for a few hours?"

Remus leaned back in his chair. "I've never loved either of you more than I do right now."

Elizabeth laughed. "Okay, but we're buying a TV on the way home."

"Can you watch Quidditch on it?" Fred asked, following her into the living room.

"No," Elizabeth laughed. "But maybe you'd like football."

*S*S*

An hour later, Remus and Severus had moved to the living room. "Don't you have to go back to school?" Remus looked at his friend.

"Don't you?" Severus smirked.

"I don't know, my boss invited me for lunch and then didn't actually have lunch, so probably."

Severus rolled his eyes. "The company was less than desirable."

"Sev, you knew it was going to be a bloody nightmare."

Severus sighed. "You're right. However, as you well know, I am an eternal optimist."

Remus snorted. "So… do want to be a woman and talk about it?"

"Well, I have been listening to you complaining about being a single father for half an hour," Severus shot back.

"Point well taken," Remus nodded. "Alright, what does it feel like to see half your genes after so many years?"

Severus was quiet for a moment. "He called Lily a freak."

"And no one punched him?" Remus grimaced. "If not you, then Fred seems fairly easily inflamed by that word."

"He was attempting not to step on my toes," Severus pressed his lips together. "But he evacuated Elizabeth to the kitchen."

"He's a good man," Remus nodded.

Severus sighed. "I know, but I can't say I would have been upset had my son-in-law gone vigilante."

Remus chuckled. "You threw him out, then?"

"He threw himself out. I may have been playing a bit with my wand." Severus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I left the idea of having him in my life long ago."

"Whatever you say," Remus adopted the face of a disbelieving mother. "Are you going to see him again?"

Severus shook his head again. "I can't have him in and out of Elizabeth's life."

Remus snorted. "She's a grown woman, Sev. What you mean is that you can't have him in and out of your life."

"So you're a psychiatrist now?"

Remus grinned. "I don't blame you. You've fought a long time to be happy. We both have. You don't need past baggage if it's not going to make you happy." He stood and stretched. "Besides, you don't take a shot at Lily and live to tell the tale. He's lucky you didn't incinerate him on the spot."

*S*S*

"I don't want to do it," Elizabeth said firmly, taking out her earrings and setting them on the top of the dresser.

"Okay," Fred said calmly, flopping backward onto the bed. "That kid wears me out."

"Four hours of wiggling will do that to you," Elizabeth laughed, sitting beside him, rubbing his shoulders.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Mrs. Weasley," Fred smirked into the bedspread and closed his eyes.

"Oh, I can finish it," Elizabeth said, poking him in the ribs. "Anyway, as I was saying, I don't want to do it."

"And I said 'okay'; I think," Fred said relaxing under her hands.

"But you don't really mean 'okay'," Elizabeth said. "You said 'okay', but you really mean, 'you should do it'."

"Actually, I think I meant 'okay'," Fred shook his head. "You can do whatever you want, and I hate to say it, but talking about it is taking the buzz off what you're doing back there."

Elizabeth snorted. "Okay. Never mind."

"Good," Fred was quiet for a moment. "Although, you know, it might be fun."

"Standing in front of all kinds of people and saying, 'You all think I saved your lives, so I'll be accepting accolades now'?"

"I'd polish that up a little," Fred rolled over reluctantly.

"I just think it's stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Fred said firmly. "And I think you're looking at this invitation from the wrong perspective." He met her eyes.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

Fred took a deep breath. "At the risk of sleeping on the sofa tonight… it's not about you. It's about everyone who fought that day, and everyone who lived through hell until we could defeat him. You were the last one standing, so you've been chosen to give those people a voice. Everyone who worked to bring that psychopath down." He paused, wondering if Elizabeth was planning to kill him where he sat. "You owe it to the Order. And to everyone we lost. You can't run away from this. The time for that is past."

Elizabeth was silent for a long moment. "Then you can do it," she said shortly, stood up, and went into their bathroom.

*S*S*

The next morning, Elizabeth lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Fred lay beside her, awake as well, just as silent.

Fred was surprised she hadn't kicked him out of their room the night before. Not that she ever had before, but they'd been married less than a year, so it was always possible. There had certainly been times before that when she'd been angry enough to sleep separately. Not very often, but then again, he didn't tell her so bluntly that she needed to 'suck it up' very often.

She'd come to bed late, well after midnight. Fred had feigned sleep, but he'd been well aware of her presence as she'd gone into the bathroom and then lay beside him, carefully spaced.

Without speaking, he got up, needing coffee and to splash water on his face. On the mirror, a long piece of parchment was Spellotaped right where his face would be.

We have, behind us now, an ordeal through which we all struggled. We have, stretching before us, a future that many paid the ultimate price to defend. We chose to wage war with all our might and with the strength given to us by our alliance; to wage war against a force both powerful and evil, so evil that it has been, and hopefully will not in the future be, matched. Our aim was victory. Victory at all costs, in spite of our terror. No matter how long and hard the road was that stretched out before us. For we knew that without victory, there would be no survival.

We did not fail. We fought in every facet of our world, in secret pockets to, in the end, a long and public battle that cannot be forgotten. We can never forget those who did not surrender, who did not step, even slightly, away from the threat. We lost friends and enemies, innocence and idealism. We saw, clearly, what threat stands at any moment to eradicate our way of life. And that threat is not ended.

It did not end with the man who fell that night in the last battle. It did not end with the body count. It did not end with the bloodshed. It has not ended.

Both the best and the worst part of our humanity is our freewill. It is our limitations, or egos, and our desires that come together to ensure that, despite our magical abilities, we stay human. And while we've seen the finest hour of that humanity in those who fought to ensure a future for our coming generations, we have also seen the worst.

It would be a worse moment to forget that the potential for evil exists among us. While we celebrate life today, we must also remember to maintain vigilance. That we cannot become complacent, ensconced in our victory. The whole fury and might of our enemies were turned on us, and could be again. We stood for what we believe in, and we must continue, or we will be carried into a new Dark Age, more crushing and horrific than what we have previously seen. It is important, in this day of celebration, to brace ourselves for the future and not cling to the past as our finest hour.

Fred pulled the parchment free and returned to the bedroom, holding the speech in his hand. "And you don't want to read this… why?"

"Because that's not what everyone wants to hear," Elizabeth said softly, not looking at him.

"Maybe not," Fred stretched out beside her, lying on his side and propping up his head on his hand. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't say it. It means that I'll have to stand beside you and look really scary."

Elizabeth laughed. "I don't like people looking at me. Why don't you read it?"

"Because no one wants to hear from me," Fred said, laying the parchment on the side table and sliding closer to her. "And because you wrote it."

"I borrowed heavily from Churchill," Elizabeth turned on her side to look at him.

"I'm willing to bet that no one in the crowd will know that," Fred grinned. "Listen, Betsy, about last night—

Elizabeth waved him off. "It's okay. You were right. Mostly."

Fred snorted. "Talk to your dad about it. Maybe it will help."

"Hmm," Elizabeth closed her eyes. "Maybe."