Epilogue

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I changed Albus's name to Will. I'm not sorry.

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly this year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple, and as the family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of the car exhaust and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in cold air. Two large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the brunette girl with grey eyes trained tearfully behind her brothers, clutching her mother's arm.

"You know, it's only a two-year wait before you can go, Rory," Estella said.

"Two years," sniffed Aurora. "I want to go now!"

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and then. William's voice drifted back to Estella over the surrounding clamor; her sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.

"I won't! I won't be in Slytherin!"

"Will, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin. That's uncle Ian's house," said Estella. "James, stop teasing your brother."

They'd compromised on the names; at least, that's what Estella let him think. He got to name their firstborn after his father, so it was only fair their last was named after her mother, though her middle name was Lily, James was Aspens, and Will's Sirius.

"I only said he might be," said James, grinning at his younger brother. "There's nothing wrong with that; we love Uncle Ian and Blaise. He might be in Slyth-"

But James caught her eye and fell silent. The five Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, James took the trolley from Estella and broke into a run. A moment later, he vanished.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" Will asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his brother.

"Hmm, I don't know, Harry; what do you think?" Estella teased.

Harry nudged her and looked down at a frantic Will. "You're mother's joking, Will. Of course, we'll write you every day if you want us to."

More like Harry would, and Estella would add in little comments.

"Not every day," said Will quickly. "James says most people only get letters from home about once a month."

"He lied. We wrote to James three times a week last year," said Estella.

"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," Harry added. "He likes a laugh, your brother. He's like your mother."

Estella grinned. James was a mommy's boy, whether he admitted it or not.

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Will winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouting from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared.

"Where are they?" asked Will anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

"We'll find them. He knows I'd murder him if he left without saying goodbye," said Estella reassuringly.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. Estella thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and she was positive she heard Fred laughing somewhere in the distance.

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