Dirty Mouth, Dirty Blood [h.g]

Epilogue

Epilogue

Hermione still woke up screaming sometimes. The only thing that seemed to calm her down was Carina's soothing words, whispered softly in the dark.

Carina never put on the weight she lost. She never really regained her appetite, and she seemed almost too thin to be healthy. Hermione gave up on trying to fix her.

Harry would still touch his scar in a panic, and Carina would slowly take his hand from his forehead. His labored breathing would subside after a moment, if Carina rubbed enough circles into his palm.

Ginny swore sometimes that she could still feel Voldemort inside of her head.

Ron never forgave himself for leaving.

It had taken Draco and Carina almost a year to regain the trust they once had. Draco was a social pariah, and Carina wasn't ready to forgive him until he was truly sorry for what he had done, not just apologizing because he was told he had to.

But Draco came around. He always did, and the twins were closer than ever before.

He had been the sperm donor for Carina and Hermione's child. Said they deserved a child that was as amazing as the two of them were.

Carina had cried when he offered. Draco had awkwardly patted her back, and Carina had smiled through her tears.

Things were starting to look up for her.

///

"Come along now, Minnie," Carina chided, pulling the young girl along.

"Are we going to see Aunt Minerva?" Minnie asked, bright green eyes wide and alert.

"Yes, we are," Carina smiled gently, "and Mummy will meet us there. Alright?"

"Alright," Minnie agreed, wild curls tucked into two braids.

Carina smiled down at her daughter adoringly, loving the innocent light in her eyes.

They were headed to Minerva McGonagall's house for Christmas, as they always did—the two had developed a close friendship.

Carina was the Potions Master and the Head of Slytherin, so she worked closely with the Headmistress.

In fact, she named her daughter after her.

Minerva Narcissa Malfoy had been born seven years earlier. When Carina had announced her name, Minerva McGonagall had cried. Carina had cried along with her. It seemed that she was doing that more and more now. But Lucius was gone, and crying wasn't a sign of weakness. Minerva had taught her that.

The Gryffindor was a force to be reckoned with, able to put people at ease or on edge with a snap of her fingers. She was kind, wise, and everything Carina admired.

It was only fitting to name her daughter after the Professor.

The pair finally arrived at Minerva's house, Carina pulling her wife into a kiss and ignoring Minnie's disgusted noises.

Her daughter would just have to accept that Carina missed Hermione every moment they were apart, no matter the amount of time.

Love did crazy things to people.

As Carina sat by the fire, Hermione's head in her lap, she surveyed the people she loved.

Harry and Ginny were playing with their two sons, Ginny already pregnant with a third child.

Ron and Parvati were laughing with McGonagall, their daughter and Minnie playing with dolls in the corner.

Carina smiled contentedly.

"Perfect," she whispered, kissing Hermione's forehead softly.

And it was.