Fury

Fury

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Cate walked groggily into the kitchen. She still wasn't used to the quiet that the mornings brought, with all five Weasley children now attending Hogwarts. It had been a week since September 1^st, and she still woke up appallingly early (according to her husband, who was still taking his vacation from the shop, something he did for the two weeks around September 1^st every year since the twins had started at Hogwarts).

However, this morning, she'd woken George along with her. His mother, now a proud grandmother of fifteen, had requested all of her sons and their spouses, and her daughter and husband, attend a breakfast, as she had every month since the year following George and Cate's marriage. For years, the dinners were attended by every child, no matter how old; the breakfasts had been adults only, so that Molly could catch up on the news, and keep her children together.

Cate sipped on a strong cup of coffee, marveling at the peace in the practically empty house. She and George had chosen it for its size and location, but now, empty of the running, screaming children that had occupied it for the past fifteen years, it seemed a barn.

George stumbled into the kitchen, wearing only boxers. His eyes were half-closed, and his still bright red hair was mussed with sleep. Her fingers itched for her wand, just knowing that Molly would make a comment on its length. She handed him his mug of hot tea, and he breathed in the scent, leaning on the counter next to her, his legs crossed.

Cate smirked at his undress. "Are we walking around the house like this, now? A girl could get used to it."

George didn't open his eyes. "Take it all in, darling. I expect this to be the dress code from now on during the school year."

She kissed him, tasting the hint of honey that she'd put in his tea. "You're dreaming."

George opened one eye and scanned her body. "Clearly not. For one thing, you're clothed."

She smacked his arm and drained the rest of her coffee. "Get ready to go. Your mother expects us in half an hour."

George groaned. "We can't both have showers in that time." He suddenly perked up. "Want to share?"

Cate rolled her eyes, walking towards the stairs. "That might take a bit longer than half an hour." She paused on the second step, eyebrow raised. "Coming? We've got to make this quick."

She laughed as he swept past her, dropping the mug on the counter and grabbing her hand as he raced up the stairs.

~*~

They arrived nearly twenty minutes late, still giggling and holding hands. Molly said nothing, only shaking her now completely gray head at them and pointing to the floor next to Arthur's chair, the only remaining open space.

Each person held a plate and fork, and the half-finished meal smelled fantastic. Molly bustled into the kitchen and prepared two plates, floating them out to her son and daughter-in-law. When they were eating and Molly had settled on the couch between Bill and Fleur and Charlie, everyone resumed their conversations. Cate and George, mouths full of food, chose to listen for the moment, knowing, from experience, that the breakfast could go on for hours, leading into lunch, and pleasing Molly to no end.

Cate caught snippets of Ginny and Hermione's conversation, as they sat on chairs not far from her.

"So, I get this owl from Lily, right, and she begs me not to show her father, so I tell him it's about girl things. Harry gets this look on his face...you'd think, after all these years, he'd have gotten over it by now. So, anyway, Lily tells me this boy, I won't say who, asked her to go to Hogsmeade with her, and she had to say no, because she'd already promised Hugo and the Longbottom girls that she'd go with them, and then he spread it around school that she was a slag and had snogged him in the Astronomy Tower. Do you remember it being like that when we were there?"

Hermione shook her head, threads of gray already evident at her temples. "No, but then, Harry, Ron, and I were never really part of the normal crowd."

Cate found herself drawn to Arthur and Charlie's conversation as the girls devolved into talk of the War and what it had done to their relationships with their men. Arthur and Charlie were talking about Charlie's latest project: a breeding program in China that had shown a great deal of promise was being attempted at the Romanian preserve. Rhiannon had begged him to allow her to help; as a junior dragon keeper, she wasn't typically allowed near the full grown, mating dragons, for good reason.

She heard Percy and Audrey bragging about Lucy's new job, and Percy's promotion, as well as Audrey's ongoing attempts to get one of her children interested in the art program she was trying to build. "No, we haven't heard from Molly, but then, we didn't expect to so soon. She's just getting settled into Greece," she heard, in response to a question from Bill.

And then, "Yes, Teddy and Victoire have settled in nicely. And she's just said," Fleur added, nudging Molly. "She's just said to expect a new arrival soon." Squeals and congratulations were handed around, with George the first to call Bill a grandfather.

~*~

Molly cleared the plates away soon after, and an hour of conversation flew by before Percy stood and announced that, as always, it had been a lovely breakfast, but he was already forty-three minutes past when he'd told his secretary he'd arrive, and that was bad manners. Bill wasn't far behind, though Fleur wanted to stay and ask Molly for crochet patterns for a baby blanket. Harry and Ron left for the Auror office, Hermione for the Law offices, and Ginny headed home, to prepare for a game later that evening.

Cate stayed behind with Molly and Fleur, sending George ahead with Charlie, who'd begged his brother for some Wheeze or other; she wanted a recipe of Molly's that she hadn't been able to find the last time she'd looked. Arthur went out back to his shed, with Molly clucking under her breath that he spent more time out there than he had at work, before he'd retired.

Cate Flooed home a few moments later, recipe in hand. She could hear Charlie and George in the basement workshop, puttering around, with the odd quiet explosion following in the wake of their voices. She went upstairs to her own lab, setting the recipe on her desk as she went.

She had just put on her protective gear when there was a tapping at the window. Typical, she thought, stripping off the dragonhide gloves. Just when I've got a moment alone.

The owl was familiar to her, however, and she felt a thrill of excitement. It was Ciara, the screech owl shared by her youngest two, and she had a large scroll in her beak. Cate threw open the window, allowed Ciara in- the owl immediately fluttered down the stairs to the kitchen, where there was a roost- and ripped open the letter, laughing as she saw Emily's familiar scrawl.

Hi Mum and Dad!

This is from both of us, Emily and Roxanne, though, since she's got terrible handwriting, I've been ordered to do all the scribing.

Cate saw a splotch of ink, and could imagine the twins fighting over the quill.

Anyway, this is to inform you that both Emily and I have followed Weasley family tradition- minus Andromache, of course, and Leo, but they don't count- and have been sorted into Gryffindor together. Professor Longbottom looked both pleased and a bit worried as the hat Sorted us, so I think he's probably heard of our reputation. Tell Dad thanks, by the way, for that prank he left us for Uncle Neville; it went spectacularly well. And no, Mum, I won't say what it was, just that we didn't get caught, and that's what really matters.

We've started our classes- at last- and while I think my favorite is Charms, Roxanne is insisting that hers is Astronomy. I think she's mental, but then, she always was. And Mum, please don't tell me to be nice to her, because she's standing next to me charming my homework different colors. Professor Oldbrine (who is new, since Professor Flitwick retired last year) says that she really thinks I've got a knack for the class. She's really nice, but most of the rest of the cousins think that she's cold and emotionless. She is, but not really. I don't know.

Roxanne would like me to talk about Professor Sinistra's recommendation that she read ahead in the book, even though I think Roxy is well on her way to memorizing the thing.

So, we've settled into dorm life quite well. Of course, it's easier since Roxanne and I have always shared a room; now they've just added six other girls into the mix. I've made friends with one of the girls, named Nina. She's an only child, so she's amazed by my stories of older brothers and sisters. She has a bit of a crush on Fred, but he's quite obviously taken with a fifth year Hufflepuff named Leah. He doesn't think anyone knows, so please don't tell him I told you.

So, while I've been writing, the others have huddled around and ask me to send their love, along with a message from each. Roxanne would like to tell Mum not to go through our room quite yet to clean, because she thinks she left a prank somewhere, and can't remember where. Of course, I think it's under the bed, but that's just because she's not very clever.

Fred would like me to say that he clearly doesn't like Leah, since she's got a boyfriend, and that he left his Quidditch gloves in the top drawer of his dresser; could you please send them? Also, he said that Leo will send a letter later next week with his list of additional books from Diagon Alley, since he grabbed a catalog as we left Flourish and Blotts. I'm sure they'll all be Arithmancy-related, but then, he's a great big dork.

And now, from Andromache: she's going to send you something inside the letter. It's from one of her Professors, but she didn't say which. It's about a music program that she wants to go to. She's been practicing for it since they talked, and I think she might be very good. Did you know that she had a cello? Apparently, her professor lent it to her last year, and she's been learning on her own. The things you learn when you live together away from your parents.

Anyway, I've got homework to get to. Everyone sends their love, and I send mine as well. I expect you'll get a rush of letters at the beginning of next week, but even if I'm the only one writing, know that we're always thinking about you. (Fred said to say that. Apparently, he's not just clever; he's sensitive.)

I'll write again next week, with more news.

Love you very much,

Emily

George wrapped his arms around her from behind, looking over her shoulder at the letter. "Which child?"

Cate blinked back tears. "Emily, but they all contributed. She's a wordy little thing, I can tell you. I was not expecting...oh, George. Our babies are all gone."

Charlie blundered into the kitchen, his hair smoking slightly. He blushed and turned his back. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Cate wiped a single tear away. "Don't worry about it, Charlie. Just being self-pitying. I'll just make us something to eat, shall I?"

George held up a finger to his brother, grinning. He walked over to his wife and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "It'll be fine, love. They'll be home for Christmas soon enough. And you'll hear from them quite often, I'm sure."

Cate smiled at him. "I just miss them, you know?"

George laughed, then looked over at Charlie, who was pretending not to hear. "Do you want me to get rid of Charlie and then we can...you know?"

Cate raised an eyebrow. "Ah. The benefits." She kissed his nose. "Hey, Charlie?"

Charlie turned around, a wide grin on his sunburned face. "Yes, Cate?"

Cate winked. "Give us an hour, okay?"

Charlie saluted her, and disappeared out the door, leaving Cate and George alone in the kitchen.

Cate sauntered towards the stairs, swinging her hips. She may not have been as slim as she once was, or as young, but she still knew how to get her husband to follow her. George raced up the stairs before her, grabbing her bum on the way past. Giggling, Cate followed. Christmas could wait. She was alone with her husband.

~*~

Charlie watched his brother and his wife run up the stairs, past the enormous window on the stairwell. They looked happy again. He watched the curtains fly out of their window, and heard shrieks and giggles. He cursed his sharp hearing, and aimed his wand at the window, gently closing it.

He spun on his heels, Apparating away, wondering if, and when, they'd notice.