Harry and Miranda attend the memorial service for the Fallen Fifty, they spend some time with family, and new problems arise.

May 26th-

Three weeks passed quickly. The wizarding world was doing what it did best and attempting to keep calm and carry on. But the dead deserved to be put to rest.

They'd seen their friends a few times since the Final Battle, but nerves had gotten the better of them as they prepared to leave Grimmauld Place for Hogwarts. Neither one of them really wanted to leave their safe bubble.

Harry fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

Miranda slid a hand over her belly, which had grown considerably after three more weeks of steady food and prenatal potions. "It seems wrong to go to a funeral like this." She admitted when he questioned her changing her dress again, "I don't want to draw attention."

Harry took in her head of lush dark hair, her gorgeous hazel eyes that shifted colors with her mood more than the blue ever had, her fair skin, and her bump. Their bump. He could hardly keep his hands off it, or the rest of her for that matter. It was so bad that Draco and Pansy had escaped to one of Blaise's places within days of staying with them. Snape was still with them, but he avoided them with masterful skill.

Harry sighed, "I want to show you off. But, you're right, I don't want to draw attention either. Not yet."

So she went back into Walburga's closet, which had thankfully also fallen victim to her preservation spells, leaving the wide variety of fabrics in perfect condition. Harry hadn't even known it was there. Another hidden room in the ancient house.

The dress she emerged with was pale blue, regency inspired with a ribbon that sat just below her breasts and let the rest of the fabric hand straight down. Just as she'd hoped, it skimmed right over the pinnacle of the bump, effectively erasing it. "Change the color?" She asked, adding, "This was from Burga's fairy tale era. I had one too, and we would run the halls together in the middle of the night." She fussed with the bow a bit, frowning, "I wonder what happened to my clothes." Miranda shook her head slightly, "That's for another day. Color?"

Harry was completely enamored with her, really liked the blue, but he nodded and spelled the dress to a stately black that was more appropriate for the occasion. He took her hand in his, touched her bump one more time, and led her to the door.

Once they'd made it to the porch, Harry put an arm around her waist and apparated them both to the waypoint that had been designated by Professor McGonagall for the memorial. It was a short walk, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the herd of thestrals they walked by. "Even they look sad." She whispered.

Harry clenched his hand around hers more tightly, but said nothing.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden light over the cemetery that had been created beside the White Tomb for the Fallen Fifty. There were no sobs, no tender words, just air thick with magic and grief. Grief her brother had caused. The day meant something very different to her than it did everyone else. For most of the mourners here, Tom's death was the end of an era, the close of a chapter, but for her, it was the irreversible loss of the only real family she'd ever known. It seemed wrong to mourn him alongside the others, but she couldn't help it.

Harry squeezed her hand again, offering a brief moment of comfort. She met his gazeand smiled faintly, but her heart wasn't in it. For a few moments they existed unnoticed in the crowd of mourners.

Then the murmurs around them became deafening, "Did you hear? She's here? How could she?" Another voice, "Of course she's here. Her brother was the one who caused all this." Yet another, "Look, do you see that? How dare she come here with that."

Miranda sighed, wanting to scream, to make them understand she didn't want any of this to happen. The last thing she wanted was attention. They were here to mourn.

A tall man stepped towards them, one she didn't know, but Harry's change in posture said he did. His eyes narrowed and flicked down to her stomach, "You shouldn't have come. Not today. Not withthis." Apparently they'd both overestimated how well the dress hid her pregnancy.

Miranda felt her heart race, a surge of magic flare inside of her, but she pushed it down, "I didn't come for me. I came for Harry. For the Wesley's. For the Lupin's. For the Fallen." She could have stopped, but rage simmered too close to the surface, "And no matter what you think, this child was made in love. Mine and Harry's. It is not a part of whatever evil legacy you think I carry."

The man sneered, but Harry stepped one foot between them, "That's enough." His voice was firm, carrying the weight of an authority he still didn't fully know he had. "You've said enough. Leave us alone."

Harry led her towards the distinctive mob of red hair that was the Weasley family, and the crowd seemed to part, their mutterings drifting off into the wind. Miranda took a moment to watch Harry as he was embraced by his found family. The others would likely never accept her. Word had gotten around quickly that the dark haired witch living with Harry Potter was the same as the one who'd been at Hogwarts, the one who had been claimed as sister by Voldemort himself. They would never forgive her for what had happened. With Harry by her side though, with their baby, she didn't need them to. She didn't need their approval.

Hermione smiled sadly at her from the other side of the cluster, and she returned it with just as much sadness. They weren't alone though. That was all she and Harry needed.

The rest of the service went much more smoothly. Professor McGonagall led it with compassion and grace and several witches and wizards spoke. Molly kept herself composed, but tears streamed down her face the entire time. She wasn't alone. So many tears, so much pain.

Miranda kept her tears to herself though. They wouldn't serve her or anyone else. Harry seemed more on edge than mournful though, looking around enough that Miranda stroked his arm and whispered, "What's the matter?"

"I haven't seen Remus." He whispered back, putting his hand over hers.

As the gathered began to disperse, Miranda searched their faces with him. "There's Andromeda."

They approached the older witch, who was holding a bundle in her arms that had to be her grandson. "Harry." She said in greeting, but looked anxious and worn.

"Mrs. Tonks, where is Remus?" Harry asked.

Gone, Andromeda told them. He'd arrived before the service and instead of going with her, he'd handed her the baby and left. The baby, mostly hidden by iridescent folds of fabric, had his tiny hands exposed.

"Would you hold him?" Andromeda asked, her voice gentle, eyes kind.

Miranda blinked at her, caught off guard. She'd never held a baby before. How had she never realized that? The thought of it stirred something inside her, fear and curiosity all tangled up in one. The soft flutter of movement from within her reminded her that she was going to hold a baby eventually. What if she hurt him? What if she hurt their baby?

"It's alright. He won't break." Andromeda said, placing the baby into arms Miranda didn't realize she'd held out.

The weight of the baby, less than two months old, was more than she'd expected. He was surprisingly solid for something so small, and he let out a small, sleepy sigh. His hair was an unusual mix of black and Weasley red, and started to turn more brown while she watched. Asleep, his innate metamorphmagus powers seemed to lose their hold. His lashes were long and dark, his face perfect and pure. His tiny fingers twitched, and Miranda felt an overwhelming flood of instinct take over. The fragile, precious thing in her arms needed care, love, and protection: all things she hadn't been certain she'd known how to give until that very moment. The child she carried was still inside her, still small and untouchable, but Teddy was so very real and warm.

"He's beautiful." Miranda whispered, the words feeling foreign but true at the same time. She shifted the baby slightly, her arms trembling just a little as she adjusted him to rest more comfortable against her chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm. When he shifted in her arms, fingers twitching again as if he was searching for something, Miranda instinctively began to rock from side to side.

Harry wrapped an arm around her and peered over her shoulder to get his own fill of his Godson. "Shhh, mate. We'll find him."

Andromeda smiled, though she looked tired and worn, "You'll be amazing, just look at you two."

Miranda nodded slowly, her heart swelling with an unexpected joy. They were unsure of the future, but holding Teddy, being there for him, together, made it feel manageable. "I hope so."

There was something in the way Andromeda shifted her weight, the subtle glance she threw down at the baby as if he were a responsibility she was unsure how to handle. A faint sigh escaped her lips, but it was the look in her eyes that caught Miranda's attention, uncertainty that felt louder than the words she'd said.

Miranda cleared her throat, "How are you faring these days?"

Andromeda sighed, "Sometimes I forget she's gone. And then I just feel so empty. Today…this memorial…I don't… Remus is over with little Teddy all the time, leaves him some nights. Neither of us have been…well." Another sigh, "His face this morning… I'm not sure he'll be back."

Miranda felt Harry's body tense. "He has to." He said defensively.

Andromeda shook her head, "He loved my daughter. I'm not sure he can handle this."

What was this? The memorial service? Teddy himself? Miranda didn't know.

"I'm not sure I can." Andromeda continued, "I already raised my child. Now she's dead in the ground. My husband is dead."

Miranda's heart twisted, and she glanced at Harry, who was staring at the woman with a furrowed brow. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they both felt it. Harry stroked a finger across Teddy's forehead as he addressed the boy's grandmother, "I'll start looking for Remus. If you want though, Miranda and I could take Teddy for a night."

Andromeda's smile was quick but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll take care of him." she said softly, almost as though she were trying to reassure herself. "I can."

The words didn't quite settle in Miranda's chest, but she forced a return smile. "Just send an owl or floo if you change your mind."

"Thank you. For the offer." Andromeda said to them, taking Teddy back from Miranda.

Her arms felt empty, and Harry seemed to notice, grabbing her hand tightly. The tension as Andromeda walked away was palpable, and Miranda held onto Harry just to keep herself from following. "Harry."

"I know." He said sadly. "I'll look for Remus, but we'll keep an eye on them. I promise."

Miranda wrapped herself in Harry's arms, "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded, pressing his face into her neck, "I will be." He paused, and she could feel a smile on his face, "You smell like baby."

Ron interrupted then, face red and tear stained, "Everyone's going to the Burrow for lunch. You two coming? Mum was up all night fussing over everything."

"Absolutely." Harry answered, the response almost instinctual. He faltered for a moment. "Remus might go there. I'll look around and then check a couple places." He looked at Miranda's face, "That alright?"

Miranda nodded, and they were off.

The Burrow was as warm as Miranda remembered, and she was surprised to see Draco there. "Draco?"

He smiled tightly, "I thought you two would end up here."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked.

Molly took that opportunity to thrust a plate into Draco's hands, "Eat, you're too pale."

Draco looked at Miranda over the steaming food, and smiled impishly, "Pansy got pissed at me, Blaise sided with her, Ginny got wind, and dragged me here to Mrs. Weasley." They shared a knowing smile. He may maintain his prim and proper façade, but he was soaking up every moment of doating from the matriarch.

Harry put a hand on Miranda's shoulder, "I'm going to go look for Remus."

"I'll be here when you get back." Miranda said softly.

Harry hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers. It wasn't just Remus who was hurting. He brushed a chaste kiss across her lips, offering a faint smile before he turned and left the room, his footsteps heavy as they faded.

Miranda and Draco ate a full meal surrounded by the Weasley's and Hermione. The kitchen was filled with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of plates. The house creaked, walls heavy with memories. The smell of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes clung to the air, fortunately comforting to Miranda.

She felt stuck between family and outsider, but having Draco to keep her company made it better.

"You two okay?" Ginny asked, stopping in front of them.

Miranda nodded, "Tired. You?"

Ginny blinked a few times, as if she wasn't sure how to respond. Finally she settled on, "The house being busy feels right. It's been too quiet these last few weeks." Her eyes drifted to her mother. While Molly's face still held evidence of earlier tears, she looked much more herself than she had since Percy's death.

Ginny suddenly cut her eyes to Draco, "I'll hex you if you spend more than ten minutes in the loo fixing your blasted hair from now on."

"You can't rush this look." Draco said emphatically, gesturing to his perfectly coiffed hair.

It was as if the very air had shifted, the weight of grief lifting just enough to let the tiniest sliver of normalcy seep in. Harry returned an hour later, no luck. He hadn't found a trace of him. He couldn't shake the feeling that Lupin was close. He'd used every trick he could think of, used all the magic he knew, but it really felt as if his former professor had vanished without a trace.

A short while later, they apparated back home, or to the street just outside. The sudden pull and whirling swirl of the magic was momentarily disorienting, and Harry hardly had time to get his hand onto his wand before Miranda was yanked away from him. She cried out, but the only thing that gave Harry pause was the man holding her. "Mr. Shacklebolt? Let her go."

Kingsley was flanked by other officials from the Ministry. "I do apologize, Mr. Potter, but your friend is under arrest." He turned his dark gaze to Miranda, "Miss Riddle, you are under arrest for murder."

"What? She wouldn't…" He hesitated, remembering one of the tidbits she'd shared with him that night in what he now thought of as their room, "That was self-defense."

"Miss Riddle will have a chance to defend her case." Kingsley said emotionlessly.

Miranda looked resigned, but asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"Azkaban." Kingsley said shortly.

Miranda jerked in his grip, "No. You are not taking me there."

Harry recognized the real panic on her face, and knew it was mirrored on his own, "You can't take her there. She's pregnant."

"Yes, that was clear at the funeral." Kingsley replied.

Miranda continued struggling. Harry could tell she was hardly holding the Obscirual inside her back, and his hand twitched on his wand. Finally, he decided on the best path, "Are you seriously going to do this? She's pregnant with my child. I killed Voldemort, and you're arresting the woman I love? This is the thanks I get?"

The men behind Kingsley flinched at Voldemort's name, but Kingsley remained unchanged. At least on the outside. "We will remand her to your custody. Expect an owl with the trial date."

He let go, and Miranda threw herself back into Harry's arms. He held her tightly and watched the men apperate away. Harry had her back in the house as soon as possible, checking her over like a nervous hen.

Miranda was quiet, and only spoke when Harry became still himself. "Harry, I'm not safe. He's dead, but I'm still not safe." Her eyes shot to his, "The baby isn't safe."

He cupped her face in both his hands, "We'll figure something out. You aren't going to go to Azkaban."

Miranda shook her head, "No, I'll go if that's what they decide. I did kill a man after all, but I can't go there pregnant, not with all the dementors and dark magic."

"I don't want you there pregnant or not." Harry told her.

She sighed, "I'd be okay. But…the Obscurous…"

Harry regarded her critically for a moment before he let his hands drop to his side. She looked delicate, his Miranda, but between her own magical abilities and the creature that was bound to her…she was anything but. "We'll figure something out. Our friends will help."

Miranda smiled at him, "Our family will help."

"Absolutely." He confirmed, echoing her smile.

I was right. Harry and Miranda are too frisky. And plot got involved again, so there's for sure more chapters.

Please let me know if you're still here and if there's anything you'd like to see before we wrap up!
-Jenn