AN: Hopefully you aren't too upset with the last cliffhanger. At least you only had to wait a day to read the rest.

Part 5: The After

Chapter 19: Silence and Fireflies

5 months later…

Sirius stands on the cliffs, surveying the steep, jagged, unforgiving rocks that rise sharply from the crashing waves below. The ocean below is wild and unrelenting, its surface churning with frothy whitecaps as waves crash against the cliff base. The water is a deep, forbidding blue, almost black in its depths, reflecting the stormy skies above.

Salt spray rises in the air, carried by fierce gusts of wind that whip across the cliff tops. The path to the cave is narrow and perilous, barely more than a goat track winding its way down the cliffs. It twists and turns sharply, descending in uneven steps carved directly into the rock.

It was a fitting resting place for Regulus… even if it wasn't the end Sirius would have wanted him to have.

Sirius lets out a bitter laugh, his voice carried away by the wind. "Well… we are partial to dramatics," he says quietly.

To his left, River stands, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Her touch is gentle, grounding. She rolls her eyes, though a faint smile tugs at her lips.

No one knows exactly how she survived the Killing Curse Voldemort cast at her. Perhaps it was the unbreakable thread of familial love that Narcissa and Sirius wove when they pulled her out of harm's way. Perhaps it was the Sword of Gryffindor, drawn from the Sorting Hat, or maybe fate itself intervened.

Everything after that moment is a blur. The end of the battle, the desperate last stand of the Death Eaters, the lives lost on both sides.

In the days that followed, few questioned the mysterious circumstances of how Lucius Malfoy and Nott Sr. met their end. Their bodies, mangled almost beyond recognition, were discovered in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Aurors took one look and moved on. No one cared to investigate further. Some deaths were better left unexplained.

Greyback was dead, and Lupin took a small amount of joy at the karmic retribution that he was the one to do it.

The rest of the bodies were removed from the castle and the rest of the Death Eaters still alive were shipped off to Azkaban to await their trials.

But even with the end of the Death Eaters, some wounds would never truly heal.

Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, and a handful of other Aurors gave their lives protecting the students amidst the chaos.

Molly Weasley survived, but barely. Though she lived, her injuries required long-term care, and she would never again be as physically capable as she once was. Draco and Narcissa quietly arranged to pay for her treatment, an act of reparation that many would never know about.

Countless students fell in the hallowed halls they fought so fiercely to protect, their sacrifices etched into the very stones of the castle. Professor McGonagall, now Headmistress, ensured that portraits hung for all those who gave their lives to end the darkness that had blighted their world.

River spent four months in a coma. The healers at St. Mungo's were unsure if she would ever wake. Her magical core had been so depleted that they warned everyone to prepare for the worst.

There was a steady parade of visitors checking on her recovery, but the constant was always Draco.

He spent nearly every day at her side, leaving only when Sirius, Lupin, Narcissa, Andromeda, or Harry either forced him to go or persuaded him to rest. The manor was too haunted by dark memories, and Grimmauld Place was still in ruins, so the family had taken to staying with Andromeda at her quiet country home.

It hadn't been easy. There were years of trauma to unpack. There were arguments, tears, and even near-duels. But slowly, piece by piece, the family began to rebuild.

When River woke up after four months, she was met with a family slowly mending itself—fractured, but determined to heal.

And that's why they were here. To visit the resting place of Regulus Black, the one who brought them River, and started knitting them all back together.

Rivers' POV

The clouds lumber closer, heavy with rain, their shadows stretching over the cliffs. The air is charged, the tension of the approaching storm mirrored in the unspoken weight between us.

I gaze out into the horizon, my voice quiet. "Storm's getting worse."

"We'll head out soon," Sirius replies, but he doesn't move. His presence at my side is steady, unyielding, like the cliffs themselves.

For a while, we stand in silence, the wind whipping around us, carrying the salt spray and the faint sound of distant thunder.

"Do you think he'd be proud?" I ask, barely above a whisper.

Sirius doesn't have to ask who I mean. His gaze drifts to the cave below, and I see the flicker of pain in his eyes. "Reggie?" He lets out a breath, heavy with memories. "He'd be proud. Of you, of what you've done. He always wanted to make things right, even if it was in the wrong way."

"I'm not sure I've made anything right," I murmur, clutching my arms tightly across my chest. "I feel like… I just survived."

Yeah, I'd rather be a lover than a fighter (fighter)
'Cause all my life, I've been fighting

Sirius turns to me, his expression softer than I've ever seen it. "Sometimes, surviving is the bravest thing you can do." He pauses, searching for the right words. "But you've done more than survive, River. You've kept fighting, even when it would've been easier to give up. That's what he'd be proud of."

The weight of his words presses against me, and I swallow hard.

Sirius's hand finds my shoulder, grounding me. "If we wait for perfection, we'll never start healing." His voice softens. "You and Harry don't have to carry it all, you know. Let us carry some of it for you both."

I nod, though the ache in my chest doesn't ease. "I don't know how to let it go."

Sirius offers a small, knowing smile. "You're a Black. We're not good at letting go. But maybe it's time to start."

Never felt a feeling of comfort, oh
And all this time, I've been hiding

I turn to him, meeting his gaze. "What about you? Are you letting go?"

His smile falters, but he doesn't look away. "I'm trying." He sighs, looking out over the horizon. "Reggie… what he did, it was his way of making amends. He gave me the chance to fight for something better. Maybe that's what we do, too. Keep fighting. For each other."

The wind picks up, tugging at his hair. He steps back, his hand lingering briefly on my arm. "You're not alone. Never forget that."

As he begins to turn away, I catch his hand. "Sirius."

He pauses, looking back at me.

"Thank you."

His smile is faint, but it's there. "Always."

He walks away, his figure retreating towards where Harry, Lupin, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Draco all stand further back from the cliff's edge. For a moment, I'm alone with the sound of the waves and the weight of my thoughts.

I'm in need of a savior (savior), but I'm not asking for favors
My whole life, I've felt like a burden
I think too much, and I hate it

I hear footsteps behind me, softer than Sirius's, but I know who it is without him speaking.

"River," Draco says, his voice quieter than usual.

In the month I had been awake, Draco had kept me at arms length. Whether for his own self preservation or because of Sirius' constant hovering whenever he was visiting me in the hospital, we hadn't had a moment to just…be. I hadn't pushed, I knew he wasn't ready to confront what had happened.

But as he steps closer, the sound of his boots crunching against the loose gravel, I wonder if this is the moment.

When he reaches my side, he doesn't say anything at first. Instead, he stands there, close enough that I can feel his presence, his warmth against the chill of the wind.

"The storm's coming," he says after a while, his voice low.

"It always is," I reply softly, watching the clouds churn over the water.

For a moment, we're silent, the only sound is the crashing waves and the wind whipping around us. But there's something in the way he's standing—something uneasy.

"Draco?" I glance at him, his profile sharp against the stormy sky. His jaw is tight, his hands tucked into his pockets, as if he's bracing himself for something.

I'm so used to being in the wrong, I'm tired of caring
Loving never gave me a home, so I'll sit here in the silence

"I don't… I don't say the right things. Not when it matters," he begins, his voice strained but steady. "I've always been good at keeping people at arm's length. It's easier that way."

"Easier to be alone," I say quietly, meeting his gaze when he finally turns to me.

He nods, a faint, humorless smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. But being alone… it's not what I want. Not anymore."

There's a vulnerability in his expression I've rarely seen, and it takes my breath away. He looks out at the ocean, his hands clenching at his sides before he speaks again.

"River, I—" He hesitates, the words catching in his throat. "I thought I lost you. When you didn't wake up… I thought that was it. That I'd never get the chance to—" He breaks off, shaking his head as if he's frustrated with himself.

I reach out, my fingers brushing against his hand. "Draco…"

He exhales shakily, his voice softer now. "I found peace in your violence."

The words hang in the air, raw and unguarded. They strike something deep in me, pulling at the pieces I've been trying to hold together. For a moment, I can't find my voice.

"Draco…" I manage, my throat tight.

"I love you. I think I've loved you for longer than I've realized, and I'm so bloody terrified of losing you again."

I feel my chest tighten as I search his face. There's no trace of the walls he's spent years building—just him, open and exposed. "You don't have to be afraid," I say, my voice trembling as I step closer. "You're not going to lose me."

He looks at me, his gray eyes searching mine. "You're sure about that? Because I'm not sure I deserve you."

I shake my head, my hand tightening around his. "You do. And I'm not going anywhere."

Draco's shoulders relax, a soft, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. He brings his free hand up, cupping my cheek gently. "You're impossible, you know that?"

I smile faintly. "Takes one to know one."

For the first time in what feels like forever, the storm inside me quiets. And as the wind howls around us, Draco leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. His voice is barely a whisper.

"You're my storm, River."

I close my eyes, letting the moment settle between us. The storm still approaches, but here, with him, I finally feel at peace.

Can't show me, there's no point in trying
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long

3 months later…

The Burrow was as lively as ever, the air thick with the mingling scents of cooking, fresh spring blossoms, and the faint promise of rain. Voices filled the space, overlapping like a symphony of family chaos, laughter, and the occasional sharp remark.

The garden was glowing with enchantments and the natural beauty of spring. Strings of fairy lights hung above the tables, their soft golden glow mingling with the flicker of tiny fireflies dancing in the air. Wildflowers in mismatched vases adorned the tables, swaying gently in the evening breeze. A large banner stretched across the house, bearing the words "Happy (Belated) Birthday, River!" in shimmering silver and green.

The kitchen bustled with activity, though not entirely because of Molly Weasley. She moved between the stove and counters with her usual brisk determination, though the occasional wince betrayed her lingering aches.

Standing beside her, Narcissa Malfoy was impeccably composed, meticulously icing a two-tiered cake adorned with silver and green accents.

"Mrs. Weasley must sit!" came Kreacher's raspy voice as he appeared near the counter, brandishing a dish towel like a weapon. His large, bulbous eyes glared at her with disapproval. "Mistress Black would not approve of you straining yourself when others can do the work!"

"Kreacher, I'm perfectly fine," Molly said with a huff, reaching for a stack of plates.

"You are not fine," Kreacher insisted, snatching the plates from her hands. "You must sit and rest! Kreacher will handle this."

Molly's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "I've been running this kitchen for decades. I don't need rest; I need those plates over there."

Kreacher looked scandalized, clutching the plates as though they were priceless treasures. "Mrs. Weasley needs rest! Kreacher will do it."

Narcissa, watching the exchange with faint amusement, finally interjected. "Kreacher, if Mrs. Weasley is anything like my sister Andromeda, arguing will only make her more determined."

Molly shot her a look. "I'm not stubborn."

"Of course not," Narcissa replied smoothly, her lips twitching into the smallest of smiles. "But perhaps you can supervise instead? Leave the heavy lifting to those of us who insist on helping."

Kreacher turned to Narcissa, nodding solemnly. "Mistress Malfoy is wise, as always."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Molly muttered, but she allowed herself to lean against the counter.

Fred and George peeked in from the doorway, exchanging a glance.

Fred whispered, "Do you reckon Kreacher would let us nick some icing?"

George smirked. "You'd have to survive Narcissa first. Let's not push our luck."

And with that, they disappeared back into the garden, leaving the trio in the kitchen to navigate their shared space of gentle fussing, quiet authority, and begrudging cooperation.

Outside, Ginny, Luna, and Hermione finished setting up the tables under the sprawling trees. Fireflies flitted between the branches, their glow blending with the soft twilight.

"River's going to hate this," Ginny said, tying balloons to a chair. "She hates being the center of attention."

"She'll love it," Luna replied, carefully placing a sprig of lavender in each vase. "She just won't admit it."

Hermione adjusted the plates, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "She deserves this. After everything she went through during her recovery… it's nice to celebrate something good."

Ginny nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah. It's been a while since we've had that."

Near the shed, Arthur Weasley proudly displayed his latest Muggle treasures to Sirius, Lupin, and Draco.

"This," Arthur began, holding up a toaster, "heats bread to perfection with nothing but electricity!"

Draco gave it a cursory glance, crossing his arms. "Bread. Revolutionary."

Sirius smirked, leaning casually against the fence. "Careful, Malfoy. You're still under evaluation."

Draco's posture stiffened slightly. "For?"

Lupin's lips twitched with amusement. "For Sirius to decide whether he's going to answer your question."

Draco's eyes flicked to Sirius, his calm mask slipping just slightly. "I think that's a private matter."

"Private, sure" Sirius repeated, his grin sharp. "But if I'm supposed to consider this seriously, I need to know you're not all talk."

Arthur, blissfully oblivious to the tension, picked up a blender and spun the blade. "This blends fruit and ice into smoothies!"

Sirius didn't look away from Draco. "Or pulverizes people who don't respect their girlfriend's father figures. Very versatile, these Muggle inventions."

Lupin sighed, patting Sirius's arm. "Stop scaring him. You've already grilled him twice this week."

"Grilling isn't the same as testing," Sirius replied smoothly. His gaze stayed on Draco for another beat before breaking into a grin. "Relax, Malfoy. You've almost passed."

Draco exhaled softly, muttering, "Almost."

Arthur clicked on a cassette tape player, filling the air with tinny music. "And this stores music!"

Draco latched onto the distraction. "Muggles put music in plastic?"

Arthur nodded enthusiastically, launching into an explanation. Sirius finally relaxed, throwing an arm over Lupin's shoulder as their laughter mingled with the hum of voices from the garden.

Nearby, Fred and George darted past, laughing uproariously as they lobbed a water balloon at Ron, soaking his shirt.

"Oi!" Ron bellowed, jumping up from where he sat with Harry on the steps. "You two are dead!"

Fred smirked over his shoulder. "Catch us first, Ronniekins!"

Harry leaned back, chuckling. "You'll never win, mate."

Ron scowled but sat back down, muttering under his breath. His mood softened as he glanced at Harry. "How're you doing, though? Really."

Harry hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "I'm managing, the nightmares come and go," he said eventually. "But seeing everyone here—seeing her—it makes things easier."

Ron nodded looking around at everyone gathered, clapping Harry on the back. "Yeah. It does."

In the shade of the old oak tree, Andromeda Tonks and Severus Snape stood slightly apart from the others.

"You could join the others," Andromeda said, her tone light but pointed. "It's not as if anyone's going to hex you."

Snape raised a brow. "Considering the company, I wouldn't be so sure."

Andromeda laughed softly, a sound that caught Snape off guard. "Fair enough," she said. "But you might find it… less dreadful than expected."

"Doubtful," Snape murmured, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise lounged near the garden's edge to avoid being put to work, each holding a glass of firewhisky. The trio looked utterly at ease, though their sharp eyes scanned the gathering like predators searching for entertainment.

Theo raised an eyebrow, tilting his drink toward the old oak tree where Andromeda and Snape stood, deep in conversation. "So… are we going to address whatever that is?"

Blaise followed Theo's gaze and smirked. "I thought we'd agreed not to meddle. But now that you mention it…" He trailed off, taking a slow sip of his drink.

Pansy snorted. "Please. Like we could resist this level of intrigue. I mean, come on, Andromeda and Snape? It's practically begging for a wager."

Theo's grin widened. "Alright, then. Ten Galleons says they'll be a thing by Christmas."

"Christmas?" Pansy scoffed, swirling her firewhisky. "That's generous. I'm betting six weeks—Snape'll be sneaking into Andromeda's garden for tea before summer."

Blaise raised a skeptical brow. "Six weeks? You're delusional. This is Snape we're talking about. He probably thinks dating is a tactical maneuver." He leaned back in his chair, his smirk deepening. "Twenty Galleons says nothing happens. Ever."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. He's brooding, she's classy—they're the perfect match. Opposites attract."

Theo nodded sagely. "It's the enemies-to-lovers trope. Classic."

Blaise laughed, raising his glass. "I'm sticking to my bet. You two can dream all you want, but I'm not losing money on Snape's nonexistent romantic life."

"And if you're wrong?" Pansy asked, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Blaise considered this, then smirked. "If I'm wrong, I'll personally buy them some ridiculous present, and deliver it with a bow."

Pansy and Theo burst out laughing, their drinks sloshing slightly as they toasted to the bet. Across the garden, Andromeda and Snape remained oblivious, their conversation continuing in quiet, measured tones.

At the edge of the gathering, River stood apart, taking in the scene. As she watched the mingling of friends and family—people who had once stood on opposite sides of the war—River felt a quiet sense of awe. This wasn't just her celebration; it was a symbol of everything they had fought for.

Her fanged puffskein, Nyx, nestled on her shoulder, purring softly.

River twirled her wand absently, her thoughts drifting like the fireflies dancing around her. Six months ago, she'd been unconscious, her body broken, her magic barely there. Now, she was here. Mostly whole. Celebrated. Loved.

She flicked her wand, focusing on the warmth of the moment. A silvery wisp emerged, flickering and unsure, before it solidified into a sleek, determined fox. It bounded a few feet before disappearing into the air.

Nyx purred, and River smiled faintly.

AN: That wraps up the story, but we still have the Epilogue left and I hope it ties up any loose ends for you all.