This is a work of fan fiction. All characters and locations are the property of their respective owners. I own the story line.

Epilogue

Ron did one final walk-through of the bedroom to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Dropping down to his hands and knees, he peered under the bed. Sure enough, they had missed something. Once he retrieved it, he realized he did not recognize this underwear, and he knew they didn’t belong to his wife. He stuck it in his pocket and figured he’d get it back to whoever needed it.

After checking everything else, he walked down the hall as the others began to gather as well. “Somebody lose something?” He held up the underwear.

“That’s where those went,” Ginny said as she snatched them from his hand.

“Why the hell was your sister’s underwear in your pocket?” Charlie accused.

“Because they were under my bed.”

“That’s not much better.”

“That’s enough, you two!” Ginny’s eyes blazed like fire as she turned on Charlie. “You realize you’re accusing me of the same thing you’re accusing him of. You think your little sister is that much of a slut, or are you just hoping she is?” The slap of her hand on his face rang in the room, and everything was silent. “For your information, they were there because I dropped them while Hermione and I were playing around.” She stepped right into his face, so that there were only inches between her nose and his. “Does that bother you Charlie, does it bother you that your little sister likes to dyke out on her friends. Or are you so much of a pervert that you want to watch me dyke out on my sisters?”

His eyes were wide and his mouth flopped open and closed like a fish. “That’s what I thought, you fucking pervert.” She turned and stomped away down the hall, Hermione took off after her.

Angelina turned a gimlet eye on Charlie. “I love you dearly, brother mine; but you can be a class A prick. I think it might be best if you didn’t stay for the party at Mum’s tonight. Come with us, say goodbye, then tell her you need to head home.”

Charlie’s hands clenched at his sides, the veins in his arms clearly visible. His jaw moved like he was working up spit. Bill very obviously drew his wand, as did Harry. Ron checked to make sure his was handy, but since Charlie wasn’t looking at him, he decided he’d play it low key. They didn’t want Charlie thinking he was backed into a corner.

Ron watched nervously as Charlie slowly, but deliberately drew his own wand. “I don’t need a couple of sluts telling me what to do.” With a sharp cutting movement and a word, Charlie was gone.

No one said anything for a minute that felt like an hour. Finally, Alicia spoke up. “I’m going to go call Penelope, see if she and Percy and the kids can make it. How long should I tell her?”

“Thirty minutes,” Angelina said as she turned and walked down the hall.

“That long?” Fred asked no one in particular.

“Probably,” Ron said, “Ginny’s gonna need a minute.”

—————-

Molly pretended not to hear her husband trying to sneak up behind her as she prepared breakfast, though at this late hour it should actually be lunch. They had enjoyed a leisurely morning, cuddling as they watched the rain outside the window. She straightened up a bit as he wrapped his arms around her and tilted her head to the side. “How’s my Molly-wobbles this fine morning?” She shivered as he bent his head and kissed that spot just behind her earlobe.

“I’m okay.” She placed her arms over his and squeezed. She wasn’t really, but he didn’t really understand.

“Only okay?” He kissed her again. “What’s bothering you dear?”

“My little monsters turn 30 today, and they can’t even be bothered to let me throw them a party.” She let out a long sigh. She knew they were grown men now, with wives, a business to run, and enough other activities to keep them all too busy to worry about her.

“I’m kind of glad they’re not here,” Arthur whispered as he nibbled on her ear lobe. His hands, which had been wrapped around her middle, raised up slightly and his fingers rubbed over her nipples.

“Arthur!” It had been years since the last of the kids had moved out, but old habits died hard and she looked around to make sure no one could see what he was doing to her.

“Just me,” he traced his tongue up the back of her ear, “and you,” he nibbled gently, “on a quiet Sunday morning. What ever shall we do?” She giggled as chills ran from her ear down through her upper body and made her shiver. Twenty, no thirty, no fourty years ago, before Bill was born, she might have just bent over and let him take her right here, but that was a long time ago. Neither of them could be quite so spontaneous any more.

She removed his hands from her breasts but still held them around her as she leaned back into him. “You go take care of the animals while I finish fixing your breakfast. Then we can discuss your plans for the day.” She said it with a smile and a hint of a promise. Her boys might not be here when she wanted them, but her husband was, and he still took good care of her when he could.

“Alright, dear,” he said as he kissed her ear again, “but I’m going to hold you to that conversation.” He stepped away from her and she heard the back door close as the chickens, ducks, and goats all started to raise a ruckus. Now that he was firmly occupied, she headed down the hall to their room and found the case with little blue potion bottles.