A/N: Erm…excuse the title. Epilogue. I just wanted them to all begin with A’s.

19 Months Later

“Aren’t they like, marrying their own cousins?” Ron asked, his eyes as wide as golf balls.

“RON! Don’t…don’t say that!” Hermione squealed, punching his arm.

Ron winced. “Don’t blame me. I mean, honestly. The Delacours are related to the Weasleys, via Bill and Fleur, and the Weasleys are related to the Blacks, and the Blacks are family to the Malfoys…that means…INCEST!”

Ron spun around to stare at them. “You guys! Didn’t you hear me? It’s incest! Isn’t that sick?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, we heard you very well, Ronald. But they’re such far cousins…so I guess it’s all right. Plus, the Delacours and Weasleys are only related by marriage…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. They were bickering like an old married couple again. Well…they were married, so he guessed it was okay. He turned to see Ginny, chatting animatedly with Gabrielle, Fleur’s sister, whilst Draco went to get his new wife drinks.

Who would’ve thought that out of all people, Draco Malfoy would choose Gabrielle Delacour? And that they would tie-the-knot? But Harry guessed that they were suitable candidates for each other, both rich and wealthy, both quite…aloof. And it was well known that Draco was good looking. Not that Harry thought so of course. But many girls would swoon over him as he used to walk through the Ministry. Only not Hermione and Ginny. They had eyes only for Ron and him. Gabrielle was part veela, so of course, the beauty thing was over-the-top. That was all very well, for Draco seemed to like the glamour and valor. Harry couldn’t imagine him marrying Pansy Parkinson. Plus, both had silvery blonde hair as well. A perfect match.

He wondered what their children would turn out like. Definitely blonde, that was for sure. Part veela too…Harry glanced around the party after the wedding. They were, this time, in France, for the Delacours had insisted on holding the wedding there. Everyone agreed to the idea, for not all forgave the Malfoys yet, so Malfoy Manor wasn’t that likely a place to hold such a happy ceremony.

Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco had wormed their way out of things as usual. They weren’t the brave, noble Gryffindors, obviously, but they didn’t consort with the worst of the Dark Arts now anyways. Harry knew that deep down; Draco Malfoy wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore that night. He had seen that flicker of hesitation, and his wand shaking, and finally lowering… Obviously Harry wasn’t going to go be best buddies with him. They had too much to hold against one another.

“Oh, there he is,” said Ron scathingly. “Look at him, bowing and asking Gabrielle for a dance…stupid git.”

“Ron!”

“Sorry, Hermione. I mean, just would you look at him?”

“Hermione only has eyes for you, mate,” Harry joined in the conversation.

Ron pretended to look annoyed, but failed. He couldn’t hide his smile, and Hermione blushed scarlet.

The song changed to fast, and the tune of The Weird Sisters’ new song blasted out, blazing into the night. The newlyweds had disappeared into the crowd, but Harry thought he glimpsed some silvery blonde hair, twirling in strands that caught the moonlight. Ron and Hermione had gone off to the dance floor as well, and Harry was left by himself, sipping his butterbeer contently.

“Harry,” a voice said, followed with a flowery scent. He turned around to see Ginny’s brown eyes, gazing at him happily.

“Oh, Ginny. Hi. I was just—”

“Spare me the frivolities, Potter, and scoot.” She nudged him. He smiled, and gave into her charm. Ginny Weasley’s hair rivaled the Gabrielle’s cool tone. Her fiery red gave her the signature Weasley look.

Ginny slipped her hand into his and laid her head on his shoulder, watching the dancing people, moving madly to the beat. Couples could be seen, shaking their bodies along with the music, running their hands through each other’s hair, grinding—

“Oh god, do they need to make such a scene? We need some peace here people.”

“I agree completely, Fred. We’re already sick enough from drinking too much”—hic—“of the drinks…no need for them to”—hic—“make us more sick…”

Two silhouttes, one supporting the other, stumbled around to find a seat.

“Oh, George. What did those part-veela friends of theirs give you to drink?” Fred’s shape emerged from the shadows, half-carrying his drunken twin brother.

George looked around clumsily, frowning as if to remember. “Not much. Just a couple of firewhis”—hic—“keys and some other sweet stuff…” George stared drowsily at Fred, and then his face broke into a smile.

Fred rolled his eyes. “And you tell me I always get drunk.”

They flopped into the chairs next to Harry, Fred panting from supporting his brother. George’s head lolled, and he started to fall asleep. Anyone who had bothered to look at them would’ve noticed the peculiar position of the foursome, the first and fourth leaning on the inners’ shoulders.

Fred sighed exasperatedly, and turned to Harry without waking George. “So, what’s going on?”

Harry grinned. “Aw, nothing much. Ron just disappeared off with—”

“That lady-killer; never leaves us a pair to spare.” He shook his head in mock sadness. Harry stifled a laugh.

Fred brightened. “Oh well, me and George found a couple of Fleur’s part-veela friends. They’re younger than her, but older than Gabrielle of course. Perfect ages I say. A particularly cute pair were talking to us too…then I went to get some drinks, came back, and found this loon,” he pointed to his twin, who’s mouth was hanging open slightly, “by himself, singing along to some random lyrics.”

At that precise moment, the song ended, and Ron and Hermione stumbled out of the crowd, laughing.

“And then, will you believe it, he falls asleep right there in front of them!” Ron exclaimed, as Hermione burst into a fit of giggles.

Ron looked around and noticed the twins for the first time. He smiled. “Having a good time, Fred?”

His brother grimaced. “Er…not really? Considering him here,” he poked George, who snorted, “is drooling on my shoulder. I mean, it takes him about two seconds to get the girl, and then once he’s done, he cuts out all my options. So I have to take care of him…whilst all the veelas go off to find some other guys. Guess he’s getting back at me for taking all of them at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, huh?”

Ron had a funny look on his face, but Harry couldn’t place what it was. Celestina Warbeck’s warbly voice replaced the rock tune of The Weird Sisters, and her new song, Brew Our Love, echoed around the silent garden where the party was held. The moonlit sky sparkled with stars, and the small pond nearby shimmered and glistened with the midnight reflection. People were swaying to the music. The evening was romantic, and couples could be seen passing lovey-dovey eyes and complimenting each other with hugs and ki—

“You know what, Fred?” Ron spoke up suddenly, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. “Why don’t you go off to enjoy yourself? I’ll take care of George.”

The elder Weasley twin’s mouth dropped open, and he gaped, for once, speechless.

“I mean, after all you’ve done for the Wizarding community, you deserve a well earned break.”

“Me?” Fred choked out. “What have I done? Apart from causing more laughs and pranking people?”

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well, let’s see. George and you, Order of Merlin, Second Class, for discovering the Forge Elixir. Named after you, and meaning to lie and forge death when exposed to explosions.” He ticked them off with his fingers. “Helping in the Battle of Hogwarts, helping defeat the Dark side, standing alongside the Order of the Phoenix in times of need…”

“Yeah, but—what about George? He’s drunk and—”

Then, out of nowhere, a stunningly beautiful girl appeared, as if from thin air. Instead of having the Delacours’ blonde hair, she had the same length, but in a captivating midnight black. No wonder they didn’t notice her approach. She blended in too well with the scenery and darkness.

“Frederick!” she exclaimed in a strong French accent. “How come you dizappeared? We were looking all over for you!” her gaze fell on George. “Oh…I zee. I shall tell Ora zat I ‘ave not zeen either of you.”

“Er…guys…this is Odette. One of…Gabrielle’s friends,” Fred introduced her. Harry noticed the gazes Hermione and Ginny were giving her for a moment, and he knew that next to a part-veela, they didn’t feel exactly comfortable.

Fred seemed to notice too, for he at once asked Odette to the dance floor, disappearing inside the crowd. George was still sleeping, but now he was flopped onto two chairs, snoring gently.

“Don’t worry,” said Ginny. “Fred’ll spare him some of the fun.” She smiled crookedly.

“Blimey,” Ron whispered. “If Odette and Ora are related, and they end up marrying Fred and George, then won’t that be like, incest again—? OW!”

“RON! I told you! Stop saying that!” Hermione wacked him on the ear once more.

They continued to bicker, whilst Harry waited for the night to pass. He glanced around, and his eyes fell on Draco Malfoy, who was sat opposite Gabrielle, their hands intwined. For a moment, Draco’s eyes looked passed his wife’s shoulder, over to meet Harry with his steely grey gaze. For a moment, something passed between them, and for a moment, they came to an understanding.

Malfoy nodded lightly, and Harry returned it.

No need to hold a grudge. Everything was fine.

And as they say: always forgive your enemies…nothing annoys them more.

A/N: That last phrase was by Oscar Wilde. Tis true, though, innit?

Don’t you think Draco/Gabrielle is cute? I just love them together. Then again, I ship nearly everything with Draco in it. Minus yaoi. Sorry yaoi lovers!

Teehee…Fred and George are so cute! Squeee! I just imagine them liking veela types and all…(giggles)

May do an Artemis Fowl at Hogwarts fic, entering Harry’s fourth year after he gained magic in The Lost Colony (he was 14 going on 15). And might do a Twilight oneshot on Bella turning into a vampire et cetera, but I gotta read Eclipse first (hasn’t come out yet where I come from). Then I have my own novel I’m working on…

But toodles for now, here’s the end of another fanfic. I’ll be back with more, promise!

porpierita