Out of the Shadows (A Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

Epilogue

19 years later

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, causing me to open my eyes slowly, suddenly very aware that it was time to wake up. I laid still for a moment, blinking, trying to ignore the sense of dread that was sitting on my stomach.

There was a noise beside me, and I glanced over, a smile playing at the corner of my lips. Fred was stirring, his golden eyelashes catching the sunlight as he awoke and stretched his arms out towards me.

"Awake already?" He murmured softly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him tightly. I relaxed against him, inhaling his sweet scent.

"Just nervous for today, that's all," I spoke softly, and Fred kissed my forehead.

"She'll be alright, Ava," Fred whispered in my ear, "She's just as feisty as you, I think she'll manage."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or not," I gave Fred a withering look, and he kissed me, pulling me onto his lap. I laughed, leaving a trail of kisses down his throat, a smile still upon my lips.

"Definitely a compliment," He murmured, his voice quiet, "But I can always repay you if you're still offended..."

Just as I raised my head to ask him just how he would repay me, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Mum! Dad! Aren't you meant to be helping me pack?"

"Coming!" Fred yelled, and I rolled my eyes.

"Pay me back later?" I winked.

"Definitely."

I grabbed my dressing gown and stepped out into the corridor, where Euphemia was standing, nervously checking the list of equipment she needed for Hogwarts for the hundredth time.

"Mia!" I snatched the list out of her hands, "We have everything on this list!"

She crossed her arms, "But what if there's something we missed?"

As Fred stepped up behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist, I suddenly became very aware of how old our daughter had become. She was no longer a tiny, crying baby, but an eleven-year-old girl, with messy red hair down to her shoulders, a fringe that she could never get to sit right, and a pair of glasses that she hated to wear. She pushed them up her nose, a habit that reminded me of Harry, and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll go and wake Monty up, while you two check the list again."

She flounced off before we could protest.

"Did you say feisty?" I muttered with a laugh, and Fred squeezed me tightly in response.

An hour later, after we'd checked the list three more times, eaten breakfast, and piled all of Mia's things into the car, we were almost ready to leave. I was crouched at the bottom of the stairs, in the process of tying Fleumont's shoelaces. Monty was only six, with a mop of red curls and a pair of even thicker glasses than Mia's which made his eyes look larger. He blinked through them at me, "Why don't you use magic to tie my laces Mummy?"

"Because I like to remind you and Mia that you don't have to use magic for everything, you know."

"But Daddy uses magic!" Monty protested as I stood up.

"Your father has a different opinion on the matter," I smiled, "Now come on, in the car!"

We left the house at last, piling into the car and making our way to King's Cross Station. As we parked and pulled Mia's luggage out of the boot, I noticed how busy it was around us, filled with people on their way to work. I hoped we wouldn't stand out, and was suddenly very thankful that we were meeting the others on Platform 9 ¾ and not anywhere else.