August 31st 2000…

Regulus plonked two glasses down on the bar between them.

"Not too early for you, I hope?" he said, not waiting before filling them with Muggle whiskey.

Severus raised an eyebrow; "Has that ever stopped you?"

"Enjoy your last tastes of freedom while you can," Regulus said, chuckling knowingly, before lifting his own to his lips. "Technically, this makes you my first customer."

"Technically not, considering the grand opening's enduring postponement," Severus countered, eyes leaving Regulus to scan the room.

The bar wasn't large, certainly nothing when compared to the vastness of the Foundation with its stately lobby and spiraling corridors, its brightly lit offices and grand ballrooms where Severus still spent most of his days. Severus wondered if the stark difference between the two was the reason Regulus had chosen it. This quant little building on the corner of a Muggle street in London.

"Well, we can blame my son and his ongoing wanderlust for that," Regulus said, though his tone was fond, as he stepped away, "That, and I couldn't very well open without this beauty taking pride of place out front." Regulus came around the side of the bar, approaching a large object that was currently balanced against the wall and concealed by a thin, grey sheet.

Regulus yanked off the fabric with a flourish, revealing a black sign with gold writing across which read, 'The Noble House'.

Severus fought a smile, while Regulus laughed, openly.

"An honour or a mockery, I can't quite tell," Severus said.

"Can't it be both?"

Regulus tossed the fabric so that it was draped over the sign now, rather than concealing it, and headed back to where Severus was standing. On his side of the bar, this time, rather than behind it.

"Are you saying Malachi's delayed his return once more?"

Regulus shook his head, swallowing the drink he'd just taken. "No. He'll be back any minute—now, even—if there's no issues with the portkey."

"You aren't going to the Ministry to greet him?"

"Harry's going. Didn't he say?"

"Harry's been…preoccupied."

Harry hadn't been to the house in over a week. Unsurprising, considering Miss Greengrass' recent return from an extended assignment in Scotland.

"Well, he's finally home," Regulus went on, "Thus converting my daughter's birthday party this afternoon into a combined welcome home party with her big brother."

"I'm fairly certain Marceline will forgive his intrusion."

Regulus chuckled, "More than that, he'll be lucky if he can get up off the floor with those two waiting for him." Regulus' eyed twinkled a bit, "You have that to look forward to, yourself."

"Not for a few months yet."

Regulus laughed, finishing off his drink just as the intolerable ringing of a telephone started up behind the bar. Regulus leaned over the counter, snatching up the receiver and speaking into it with ease, while Severus' gaze once more went to take in the rest of the room.

He'd only been once before, back when Regulus had first purchased the property. It had been in a sorry state and Severus, unable to help himself, had offered to tidy the place up with a bit of magic.

Regulus had declined.

Whether he'd utilized it—through Julia—or done it all himself by hand, Severus didn't know, but it had shaped up rather nicely. Fantastical paintings of rolling mountains, mystical cottages and fairytale castles hung upon dark, wood-paneled walls, while flowers and draping greenery, string lights along with candle-lit lanterns made up most of the décor.

Postcards from numerous countries in Europe were stuck to the beams behind the bar, a visual detailing of Malachi's travels—and Regulus and Harry's, on the separate occasions they'd joined him—since leaving Hogwarts the year before.

Regulus hung up the phone with a smile, startling Severus out of his musing with a slap on the arm as he walked by, "Duty calls, Severus. I'll see you at the party."

"Julia?"

"Nick."

Severus grinned as Regulus took his leave, lingering only long enough to finish his own drink. Considering the festivities to come, Severus was quite certain he was going to need it.

Music, animated voices and the excited squeals of children could be heard even from the bottom step leading up to the porch of the Blacks' townhouse in London.

"Daphne would hate that right?" Harry said, as he followed Malachi up to the door, "The whole proposal in the restaurant thing?"

Malachi smirked and shot him a look over his shoulder. "Not as much as you would."

Harry blanched at the very-true statement, nodding as Malachi opened the door and the two headed inside—both having to raise their voices to hear one another over the din inside—as he said, "Right. I mean, who'd want an audience for that?

Malachi scoffed a bit, dropping his rucksack onto the floor before pushing the door shut with a slam.

"My dad."

Harry snickered—there was certainly no way that he'd be making a proposal in front of a ballroom full of people—just as Malachi's dad's head popped around the doorframe of the kitchen down the corridor.

"Aw!" Regulus beamed, his smile wide for his newly returned son, "There's my boy!"

Malachi was engulfed in a bear hug within seconds— "aw, Dad!"—the two of them laughing, evidently delighted to be reunited.
"Everyone here?" Malachi asked as he drew back, glancing up the stairs to where the majority of the noise was coming from.

"That they are," Regulus confirmed, keeping a hand on Malachi's shoulder; "You two are the last. Your little sister was adamant that we wait for you to be here before we did the cake."

Malachi smiled, easily; "They alright?"

"They'll be all the better for seeing you—"

At that moment Nicholas could be seen running across the landing, Teddy Lupin toddling behind, close on his heels and giggling in delight, just before a loud smash filled the air as they disappeared into another room.

"Nicholas Sirius Black!"

Harry fought a smile at Julia's voice, sharing a look with Malachi while Regulus rubbed his forehead with a look of mock ever-suffering, before he said, "Luna's upstairs."

Malachi frowned, "Oh."

"Yeah, we ran into her a couple of days ago and Marceline mentioned the party and Nick asked her…well. You know what they're like. She's here."

Malachi's eyes went up to the landing, then, with a look that was both nervousness and eagerness.

"I give 'em an hour, before they're sneaking off somewhere," Harry said, unable to resist.

Malachi rolled his eyes; "If anyone's gonna be sneaking off somewhere, it'll be you and your fiancée."

Regulus chuckled, looking at Harry appraisingly, while Harry shot Malachi a look; "Well, you couldn't have picked a better time for popping that question, Harry— "

"Daddy!" Marceline's voice called from upstairs, while Regulus grinned and raised his eyebrows.

"—ambiance like this cannot be recreated."

He gave Malachi's shoulder a squeeze before heading for the stairs, but he was almost knocked from his feet when Grace suddenly marched passed him—in an obvious strop—heading in the direction of the study, while Regulus carried on upstairs.

"Alright, Grace?" Harry frowned, as she swept by them without a backwards glance.

"Yes." She slammed the door to the study shut behind her.

Malachi's eyebrows disappeared up behind his fringe, as the animated sounds of the birthday party upstairs continued to increase in excitement.

"Sorry, Mummy—" Nicholas said, as he and Julia crossed the hallway upstairs.

"Severus—" Harry's mum's voice piped up; "—have you seen Grace?"

"I have a fair idea of where she is—"

"Daddy—" Marceline could be heard, speaking delightedly; "—look what Draco brought me!"

"Lovely! Guess who's downstairs."

"Malachi?" Nicholas again.

A thud of footsteps headed their way. Harry laughed, before giving Malachi a slap on the back and drawing him to the stairs.

"Welcome home."

The expected knock at the door to the study came less than five minutes after Grace had stormed in. The person—her dad—not waiting for an answer before coming into the room.

Grace stared at nothing, embarrassed when she realised she was actually sulking, as he made his way across the small room to where she was sitting at the desk.

He said nothing.

Just did that annoying, silent staring thing that he did that he knew would make her eventually give in and speak first.

Grace sighed, meeting his eyes; "'m sorry for being a brat back there."

"Already, this conversation is remarkably similar to a number of others that you've been having with myself and your mother for the past few weeks," he said, taking at seat at the opposite side of the desk.

Grace shifted with another sigh, her eyes going to the calendar on Mr. Black's wall, at the date of today—August 31st—before she shrugged.

"Grace."

"It's just…" she raised reluctant eyes to him; "Tomorrow. Hogwarts…I don't really wanna leave."

"Well. It would be dishonest of me to say I am anything other thansurprisedat that statement. For the past year, Hogwarts has been the beginning and end of almost all your conversations."

"Not all of them."

"Ah. I suppose you're disappointed there's still no sign of your younger siblings?"

"The Healers said they'd come early."

"Unfortunately, children, as I have long since learned, tend to be rather uncooperative in the face of even the most intricately made plans."

"Dad. I don't need a lecture."

Her dad raised an eyebrow. "The Headmistress will allow you utilize the floo network when the time comes, as soon as can be arranged. You needn't worry."

"But I'll still miss everything else."

"Everything else? Do you refer to sleepless nights? To soiled clothing? To incessant screeching?"

"Maybe." Grace shot him a look, fighting a smile. "Not much of a sister, being away so much of the time."

"Did you feel the same way about your brother?"

Grace hesitated.

"No."

She picked up one of the pens that was lying on Mr. Black's desk, eyeing the odd, featherless thing for a minute before finally admitting, quietly; "I just think I'm gonna miss home."

Being here, with everyone, amongst all the noise and the bustle and the affection only brought home just how much she was leaving behind.

Her dad's voice softened. "As we will you. More so, I imagine. You'll find plenty to preoccupy yourself with, once you get settled."

"I'll be alone."

Her dad's smile was small, almost ironic. "I assure you; you'll be anything but alone."

"What if I'm a Gryffindor?"

"Then you'll be a Gryffindor."

Grace rolled her eyes, "I'm going to be in Slytherin. Everyone thinks so. Like Malachi was."

"And myself. And Mr. Black. And Draco."

It'd always been the family's inside joke—the extended family's, even—how very Slytherin she was, even as a little kid.

She'd loved it, back then. Until—

"They'll be strangers. They'll all know me before I know any of them. And…I've heard the stories. Not everyone thinks you're heroes, you know. Not in there."

"Oh?"

"They talk about it sometimes. At the Foundation. Some people think—"

"People."

"Yes, Dad. People," Grace bit out, exasperated.

"Regulus?"

"Obviously not Malachi's dad—"

"Miss Greengrass?"

"She's Harry's girlfriend."

"Tonks, then? Draco?"

"Dad." Grace rolled her eyes. "You know that's different."

"Indeed. Different, in that these are people whose opinions duly have meaning to us. The opinions of strangers are irrelevant, Grace."

"They won't be strangers for long. I'll have to live with them. Every day."

"From all we've heard from your Uncle Remus, those days of supposed segregation between the Houses have long since passed."

"Great. More people to worry about, then?"

Her dad shook his head, but he looked thoughtful now. Taking a moment before he eventually said; "Speaking from experience, Grace, I've found that in order to find your own people, the most prudent advice to follow is simply to stay true."

"Stay true? To…what?"

"To yourself."

Well.

It wasn't hard advice. She supposed she could do that, easily enough.

Grace pushed herself up from the slouch she'd been in.

"What if I really am a Slytherin?" she asked. "Do you think Mum and Harry would be disappointed?"

"Certainly not," her dad said, seriously. "Both, deep down, are aware that Slytherin is the superior house."

Grace burst into laughter. "Dad."

Her dad gave her one of his rare smiles.

"And if I'm a Gryffindor? Would you be disappointed?"

"Disappointed? Perish the thought."

Grace smiled, the moment alleviated by her dad's words. "You'll floo right away? When the babies come?"

"I will."

A faint clap of hands sounded faintly from the other side of the door as someone walked past, before Julia's voice called; "Alright, we're doing the cake! Everyone to the drawing room in three, two—"

Grace shared a look with her dad, smiles playing on both their lips as they got to the feet.

Various pitches of a high spirited 'Happy Birthday' echoed throughout the room, before becoming lively voices and laughter after Marceline—with Nicholas' unwelcome assistance—blew out the candles.

Malachi had missed all of this.

He'd come home, of course, in between travelling. He hadn't missed a birthday. Hadn't missed Christmas. His dad had come to Amsterdam. Julia and Nick and Marcie had joined them in Paris. Harry had come to Prague and stayed until Berlin.

But he'd still missed them, any time he wasn't with them, even when he was happy and exploring and learning. And that was why he still wasn't sure.

Luna met his eyes across the room.

He'd missed her, too.

Malachi hesitated for a second, before he mustered up a smile and began to approach, past all the commotion.

"Ow!" Grace yelped, as Malachi trod on her toes.

Malachi made a face, "Sorry."

She glanced over at Luna, before shooting him a look.

"Yeah, I know," Malachi laughed. Then he reached into his robes and pulled out the small item he'd been hanging onto since Paris. He flicked his wand, returning it to its rightful size and held it out to her. "Here."

Grace's eyes widened, as she stared at the plushie snake he'd picked out for her.

"You got me a present?"

"Everyone got a present," Malachi said, before grinning, "You just missed it. Sulking in the library."

Grace shot him a look, but her eyes were still bright as he handed it over. "Thanks."

"Sure. Good luck at Hogwarts, Gracie," he said, ruffling her hair as he continued on his way to where Luna was standing, evidently waiting for him.

Luna smiled easily as he reached her. "Hello."

"Hey. Um…thanks for coming. Marcie would be happy. And Nick."

"I know," Luna nodded. "It's lovely to see them."

Malachi glanced at his little brother and sister, to keep from staring too long.

"And you," Luna added, after a moment.

Malachi looked back at her. He wasn't sure if he should say anything, but then, they'd never not said anything to one another, even when it might have been a bit too brutally honest or awkward before, so really there was no reason to hold back now.

"You didn't have to go."

Luna smiled, making it look easy. "Yes, I did."

"No. We…" Malachi hated remembering it. That morning he'd woken up alone in Amsterdam. The day before he'd given in and owled his dad. "We still had time."

"If I'd have stayed, then you wouldn't have gone."

Malachi hesitated at that. Was that true? Maybe it was. Maybe, after spending his entire childhood wishing for freedom, he was actually just one person asking him to stay away from locking himself back up in London forever.

"Did you apply?" Luna asked, lightly.

"Yes."

"And?"

Malachi nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it."

Luna's smile was wider, brighter this time. "See."

"See what?"

"See what you can do, Malachi."

Malachi felt himself flush a bit, at the obvious pride in her eyes. But his gaze went from Luna, who he didn't think he was quite over yet, to his dad, where he was standing chatting animatedly to Severus and Professor Lupin in the corner.

"You're worried about telling him," Luna said.

Malachi nodded, eyes still on his dad.

"Yeah—no." Malachi cleared his throat. "I mean. He's got everyone. He'd be fine, right?"

"Of course he will. He'll be happy for you."

Malachi rubbed the back of his neck, uncertainly. A few months of sporadic travelling—an easy enough distance away for his dad to get the train over whenever he wanted—were nothing, really, compared to three years on the other side of an ocean.

"I'm happy for you," Luna went on, drawing his eyes back to her.

Malachi smiled. "Have you been alright?"

"Have I been broken-hearted, do you mean?"

"No," Malachi laughed, shaking his head. "No, I wouldn't ask that."

"You'd already know," Luna pointed out, but she said it lightly, a smile still on her lips. "I have missed you."

Malachi nodded, his own 'me too' not quite making it to words.

"But I've been happy, too," she went on. "Same as you."

Malachi lifted his shoulders slightly. "If you're ever in New York—"

Luna's smile dimmed a little. "Maybe."

Malachi could tell from the look in her eyes that 'maybe' wouldn't come to pass. Luna stepped in, kissing him on the cheek. "Bye, Malachi."

She stepped away, her gaze still warm as she left him.

"Bye Luna."

Teddy snored softly against Draco's chest.

The house was quieter now. Less of the madhouse that Draco had come to expect, on the odd occasions throughout the year that he found himself attending these events.

They were fine. Dora and Remus appreciated it when he made the effort, so that was enough of a reason to come.

And he liked his cousins. Nick and Marcie, too young to know any better than to treat him as truly one of them.

Sometimes, when he was in a particularly good mood, he really felt it. Like this was his family. That he was part of this chaotic, laughing group of people who'd gone through hell and come out the other side together.

Sometimes, Draco could fool himself into thinking he went through it all with them.

But then he'd see Mac, home from some other great adventure, or Potter, who, according to Dora, was smashing his way through Auror training just spectacularly, and Draco would remember how it all really went. How those two had fought, Potter throwing himself on the proverbial sword for them all, while Draco had cowered in the shadows, terrified to die, hoping it'd be someone else.

Draco was drawn from his musings by the sounds of footsteps approaching, his eyes meeting Regulus' as he reached where Draco was sitting in the chair by the window, Teddy curled up in her arms asleep.

"Takes his nap at this time, usually," Draco said, a little embarrassed.

Regulus smiled, nodding in the direction of the couch where Marcie and Nick were on either side of Malachi, bickering over which book he should read. "Not long out of that phase, ourselves."

Draco smiled, a little awkwardly, the conversation stilting. It wasn't lost on him, how Regulus could converse with everyone else so easily, but seemed to come up short when it came to Draco.

Regulus cleared his throat, taking a seat on the footrest. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, I would."

"Dora tells me you're interested in teaching at Hogwarts."

Draco started a little. Embarrassed again. "Assuming they're still willing to hire former Death Eaters."

He'd meant it as a dig at himself, but the light in Regulus' eyes dimmed a little.

"I need to complete an apprenticeship first," Draco went on, feeling like he needed to either apologise or move the conversation along; "Headmaster McGonagall told me they hire based on merit in the fields they want to teach."

"Astronomy's your field of choice, I heard."

"It's highly competitive," Draco said. Hopeless, really. "I'm unlikely to be granted a place as it is, so. I probably won't—"

"I could write a letter of recommendation, if you think it would be of any help."

Draco hesitated at that.

If it'd be of any help.

Draco almost scoffed.

He had thought about it, obviously. Going to his uncle. Remus had already written him one. But in the Wizarding World, with Regulus Black's name behind you, you could go anywhere.

The name had the same effect on people as the name Harry Potter. More so, even, because Regulus had seemingly vanished completely in the aftermath of the war.

A mystery. A myth.

There were some people, conspiracy lovers, who were convinced he never woke up at all.

Hopefully not the person who'd be receiving this letter.

"Would you?"

"Yes. You only ever have to ask, Draco."

"I know you'd help me if I asked you to. I just thought you were done with all that."

"What?" Regulus frowned.

"Magic. The Wizarding World," Draco said, eyes glancing around the house they were sat in, so devoid of magic it was practically Muggle. "You seem happy here. Pretending it doesn't exist."

"Is that what I'm doing?" Regulus asked, guardedly.

Draco didn't want to push it. Long gone were the days when he'd sought to wound Regulus Black for…

Well.

"What are you going to do when it's time for Nick and Marcie go to Hogwarts?" he asked, for that was the question that had played on his mind, every time he'd seen his cousins in the years since.

"Do?"

"You've made them live here. With Muggles. They don't know anything else."

"They know all they need to about magic, Draco. They'll be fine."

It was frustrating, how Regulus seemed to really believe it. That it wouldn't affect them at all.

"So, don't you think they'll be worse off later?" Draco pressed. "Going to Hogwarts, only ever knowing the Muggle world?"

Regulus kept his eyes on him for a moment, before they went to the doorway, looking thoughtful. Draco could see Julia and Potter's mother in the hallway, talking quietly but animatedly.

"No," Regulus said, after a moment. "I don't think they will."

Draco rolled his eyes, his own gaze going back to Nick and Marcie on the couch, now cuddled into each of Malachi's arms as he read to them.

"I'll get that letter to you by the end of the week," Regulus said, getting to his feet.

Draco nodded, "Thanks."

"Well. I'd say that was a roaring success, wouldn't you, Wife?" Regulus said, once the last of the guests had trickled out.

Julia smiled, passing him with an arm full of new soft toys that Marceline had been gifted; "Are your parties ever anything but?"

"Maybe not so much now," Regulus conceded, the two sharing a wry look at the memory of those long past.

His eyes went to the kids once Julia had left the room, all three of them still settled in together on the couch. Marceline and Nicholas were snuggled into either side of Malachi, both of them now fast asleep, while their older brother had swapped the storybook about dragons and princesses he'd been reading aloud for one more to his own liking.

As if sensing Regulus' gaze, Malachi's eyes lifted, finding his.

"If you can disengage yourself safely from all those limbs—" Regulus said, approaching them, "—I have something I'd like to show you."

Malachi smiled.

Ten minutes later, the two of them made their way across the floor and up to the bar. Regulus went behind it, Malachi to the front, the two of them meeting opposite one another.

"Well?" Regulus spread his arms. "What do you think?"

Malachi took it all in, slowly. Gaze going to every nook and cranny of the room. "It's cool."

"Cool, hm?"

Malachi shrugged, smiling as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a miniscule, rectangular object. With a flick of his wand, the object became a little bit larger. Wrapped, with a bow tied in string around it.

"Bar warming gift," Malachi said, holding it out to him.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

Malachi didn't say anything as Regulus unwrapped it.

It was a picture. An incredibly familiar one. The same that had once sat upon Regulus' desk in his office, years before. He and Julia on their wedding day, Malachi in both their arms, all smiles with the Foundation standing tall behind them.

"Huh," Regulus said, his throat a little tight as he looked at it.

"I found it in the ruins," Malachi said, when Regulus didn't say anything more. "At Dora's wedding. I've been taking it with me, wherever I've been."

Regulus smiled, though his eyes remained on the photograph.

"The Foundation," Regulus finally said. "Now that feels like a lifetime ago."

"Do you miss it?"

Regulus glanced up, meeting his son's eyes. It wasn't something they talked about often. How Regulus had walked away. How spectacularly he'd failed at remaining there, in the magical world, once he'd lost his own.

"I did everything I needed to do."

Regulus placed the photograph on the surface behind him.

When he turned back, Malachi's eyes were upon him, sceptical.

Regulus smiled, leaning forward on the bar. "I'm happy, Son."

Malachi smiled. But he had a troubled look about him, one Regulus had caught glimpses of throughout most of the day, whenever his son's mind had seemed to wander.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Malachi frowned. "Tell you what?"

"Whatever it is that's put that look on your face."

Malachi pulled out a stool, avoiding Regulus' eyes until he sat down, so that when he did, he had to look up at him. Like he was a boy, again.

"It's the Healing program. The one in New York, remember? I…they offered me the spot for next year."

Regulus smiled, unable to help himself, and Malachi smiled a little under the brightness of it. "Malachi, that's fantastic."

"Yeah," Malachi agreed. Hesitantly. "It starts in six weeks. It's…"

Regulus lifted his chin in encouragement, fairly certain what the issue was, now.

"It's three years, Dad."

"Ah."

"Yeah. And it's America, so…it's not like I can just Floo in whenever, like before. I'd really be gone."

"Hm, well—" Regulus patted the phone on the bar beside him, "Good thing we'd both have one of these."

"Mobiles don't work where I'll be."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "As if you won't be living it up in Muggle New York whenever you get the chance."

Malachi smiled a little, not denying it. He never could resist the Muggle communities, wherever he was.

"I just might be tempted to visit it, myself," Regulus went on, gaining a sharp look from Malachi in turn. "I've always wanted to see it."

"Thought you swore you'd never set foot on a plane again?" Malachi teased. Though his son's eyes had brightened now. With hope.

"I didn't mind the plane. It was the jumping out of it I had issues with."

"Alright," Malachi said, eyes sparkling with the challenge. "Come to New York."

"I will," Regulus said, with certainty.

Malachi chuckled, smiling fully now. He leaned forward, finally looking totally at ease for the first time since he'd arrived. "You're really okay with this?"

"Do you want this job?"

"Yeah."

"Well—" Regulus lifted his hands. "How can I be anything other than proud, hm?" He leaned forward on the bar, so that they were eye level once more. "You were always meant to be out there in the world."

Malachi just looked back at him.

"What?" Regulus frowned.

Malachi smiled. "I'm proud of you too, Dad."

Regulus drew in a breath, averting his gaze slightly. But Malachi's remained steady, still there when Regulus met his eyes once more. A little sheepish, under the sentiment of the words and the look of pride in his boy's eyes.

Regulus nodded. "Thank you, Son."

Malachi's lips twitched, eyes twinkling at the obvious flush that Regulus could feel rising up his cheeks.

"So?" Malachi said.

"So?"

Malachi glanced pointedly around the room. "Aren't we gonna have a drink?"

Regulus smiled, before the two of them laughed, and he reached beneath the counter, setting two glasses and a bottle of Muggle whiskey between them on the bar.

Harry fought a smile as his mum—somehow even more massive than the last time he'd seen her, last week—waddled by him towards her dresser, having stopped him from knocking on Grace's door just a few minutes before.

"Do you want me to get whatever it is, Mum?" Harry asked.

"I think I can manage," his mum said, laughter in her voice as she reached her destination, before she pulled open the top drawer and started rummaging. "Did you sleep alright?"

Harry didn't really know how to answer that. He rarely slept well without Daphne beside him, these days. But that seemed like an odd thing to admit to his mum. "Yeah."

His mum smiled knowingly, glancing over her shoulder at him, before she plucked out whatever she'd been looking for and made the waddle back over to where he was standing.

"Here."

She placed a small, black velvet jewellery box in his hand.

Harry hesitated, eyes on the box, knowing right away what it was.

"I may have heard rumours yesterday that you might be in need of this," his mum went on.

Harry met his mum's look, uncertainly, before he popped open the box. He'd seen it before, he remembered it now, the gold band with ruby in the middle, diamonds on either side. His mum's engagement ring. The one from his dad that she'd worn for years, long after he'd gone.

Harry met her eyes. "Really? You…you don't want to keep it?"

His mum smiled, shaking her head. "It's yours now. Only if you want it, of course."

Harry nodded, looking down at the ring again. "Yeah." He smiled, nodding again. "Yeah. Thank you."

His mum smiled, reaching and hugging him. They laughed at the awkwardness of it, around the huge bump of his incoming siblings, but their smiles were bright when they drew apart. "I'm so happy for you, Sweetheart."

"She hasn't said yes, yet."

His mum's smile was knowing, "I have no doubt we'll be hearing otherwise very soon."

Harry's heart thudded at the thought.

"You were looking for Grace?"

"Yeah," Harry said, tucking the box carefully into the folds of his robes. "I had something to give her."

His mum raised an eyebrow.

Harry raised both of his own, innocently, "A just starting school present."

Grace's head popped around the door, suddenly, having obviously been eavesdropping. "What is it?"

Harry and his mum laughed.

"I'll leave you two to it," his mum said, waddling by as Grace came further into the room.

"Come here," Harry said, flicking his wand to close the door after his mum when she'd left. Grace looked at him suspiciously as she approached, eyes glancing all over his person looking for some sign of a gift.

"I heard you and mum talking," Grace said, as she reached where Harry had now perched on the end of the bed. "You'll wait for me, won't you? Before getting married?"

"What? Of course we will," Harry said, laughingly, "You don't really think I'd get married without you being there?"

Grace eyed him, then sat down beside him where he indicated.

"Now. I'm trusting you with something extremely important, Grace."

"What is it?"

"You have to promise to take care of it."

"I promise."

"Hmm, I'm not sure I'm convinced—"

"I promise."

Harry grinned and reached into his robe, pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment, and held it out to her.

Grace took it, unrolling it.

"It's blank," she said, unimpressed.

"Yeah. Well. You gotta say the magic words."

Grace scowled at him. "Please."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. And then he lifted a hand, using a finger to indicate she come closer.

Grace looked at him, suspiciously, as if she thought it were a trick. And then she leaned in, so that Harry could speak quietly into her ear.

"I solemnly swear—"

Grace studied the map all the way from Kings Cross to Hogwarts.

A few people smiled. Said hello. None really stuck around to talk, but Grace was glad of that, for now.

She made her way with the other first years up the middle of the Great Hall.

There were whispers and everyone knew who she was.

But Grace was used to that, now.

She walked with heroes, after all, and their shadows were much too large—impossible, even—for her to step out from.

She lifted her chin, defiantly, pushing that thought aside.

No.

It wasn't impossible to step out from their shadows.

She'd show them all that.

Even herself.

Grace's eyes met those of her Uncle Remus at the Professors' Table—it was odd, how seeing him sitting there brought back so many memories, of that brief time she'd lived here before—and he gave her a reassuring smile and a nod.

Grace smiled in turn, easily melting as always under her Uncle Remus' affection, and lifted her hand—letting him see her excitement—and the smile he had given her became a grin, before all the attention turned to the Sorting Ceremony.

On where she'd be placed.

It felt like forever and no time at all before she was called.

"Snape, Grace."

As she sat, the ratty old hat placed upon her head once she was settled, she remembered her father's simple words.

Stay true.

All eyes upon her as they waited.

They didn't wait long.

"Only one place for you, young lady."

Lily had dreaded the silence of the house once the children had left.

Harry's departure had been gradual, never really made official, his room, even now, still remaining exactly as he'd left it. Ready for him, on the rare nights he opted to spend at home rather than with Daphne in her—their—flat in York.

Grace's had been known about for years, but still, the stillness and the quiet in the afternoon of the 1st had been deafening.

Lily needn't have worried.

The silence didn't last long.

"Are you well enough to travel by Floo?" Severus asked, hand on her arm as the most recent contraction came to a welcome end.

Lily nodded, regaining her breath.

The two of them made their way towards the fireplace, her own progress little more than a waddle, but they were stilled by the sound of an owl tapping on the window.

"That'll be Grace," Lily said, making to go to the window.

Another contraction hit before she could, stilling them for a few minutes more.

"We should—" Severus began, leading her back towards the fireplace when she'd recovered.

"Severus." Lily raised an eyebrow.

Severus conceded, moving swiftly towards the window and allowing the owl admittance. He set out the entire box of owl treats on the sill, much to the bird's delight, and returned to her side with the note. He passed it to her, letting her do the honours.

Lily smiled, as she took in her daughter's words, before turning the parchment for Severus to see.

No need.

There were no surprises.

"Slytherin."

~Fin (for now)~

Author's Note: An epilogue felt unnecessary when I was finishing up the main story, and yet this one (and these characters!) are still haunting me. So, four years later, here it is! If anyone's still reading, I hope you enjoy!