The Mating Game

Epilogue

Two days after the birth of Lucy and Dorothy, Leo Dumbledore turned eleven years old. His beaming father presented him with his Hogwarts letter at breakfast time, which brought riotous applause from the entire staff.

That night Albus Dumbledore died in his sleep. Within a week his wife had succeeded him as headmistress of Hogwarts.

It was, in a small way, a good thing, for as headmistress she did not have to read aloud the list of students being sorted. When Leo’s name was read on September the first, she sniffled; when he was sorted into Gryffindor, she burst into great sobs, much to his embarrassment.

That year, of course, the first of the Wizarding Baby Boomers entered Hogwarts. There were three times as many students in the first year as there were in any other class.

That year also marked the breaking of the vow Severus Snape had made when he first became a father. Lucy attended all of his potions classes, carried snugly in a baby sling heavily enspelled with protective charms. Of course, since he only taught NEWT level classes, he was less fearful of exploding cauldrons. Draco Malfoy and Colin Creevey were now teaching the younger students.

The following year, Theo Snape was also sorted into Gryffindor. He whooped with delight, waving his arms in the air as he ran over to sit beside his best friend. As the assembled students tittered over this display of enthusiasm, William Snape was heard to exclaim, "What’s so exciting about Gryffindor?" Needless to say, two years later Will was sorted into Slytherin.

In later years, Edmund was sorted into Ravenclaw, Dorothy into Gryffindor, and Lucy into Slytherin, much to her father’s delight.

Then, of course, the cycles of life started repeating themselves. The Snape children, along with many of their compatriots, had been raised in a large family; they did not enjoy being alone and longed to have families of their own.

Severus was less than pleased with his sons’ choice of wives: one Weasley, one Longbottom, and one Finnegan. He scowled for days when Dorothy had the gall to elope with Sirius Potter. When Lucy announced her engagement to Darius Malfoy, however, he strutted around the castle like a proud peacock.

When the children were grown and gone, time seemed to pass even more quickly than before.

One sunny day in July, Hermione found herself at the Burrow once more. As she stepped through the garden gate, holding hands with her husband, she thought back to the day when she’d come here alone, afraid, and angry at Arthur Weasley.

She looked across the teeming horde gathered in the back garden and saw, as she had never seen before, the results of the law that she’d once cursed.

Arthur Weasley’s seven offspring had managed to produce thirty-seven grandchildren for the former Minister of Magic. Now that they both had children married to Weasleys, Hermione and Harry were actual family members rather than honorary Weasleys. Still, Arthur often counted their children amongst his grandchildren, since that brought the total to a nice round fifty.

All fifty were now married and had children of their own–and Celestia (Ginny’s oldest) was about to become a grandmother. As Celestia’s husband, Leo Dumbledore, relayed the news, he grinned and twinkled his blue eyes in a familiar way that made Hermione sad for a few brief moments.

Not long thereafter she reached the guest of honor. "Happy One Hundredth Birthday, Arthur," she said shaking the hand of the now-graying wizard.

"The one hundredth birthday is nowhere near as fun as the one-hundredth great-grandchild," he said with a tired smile.

"I imagine not," she replied, casting a glance over at the paddock where several dozen Weasley offspring were playing an impromptu game of Mass Quidditch. At least ten Bludgers were flying about, in addition to three or four Quaffles–it was hard to keep track. Hermione assumed that there was at least one Golden Snitch on the playing field, though she couldn’t see any at the moment.

"Just look at the mayhem your silly little law caused," she said, gesturing toward the mass of screaming children on broomsticks.

"Oh, I suppose the amount of mayhem in the Wizarding World did increase somewhat," said Arthur, fondly watching one of his great-grandsons tossing a Quaffle through the center goalpost, "But then, so did the amount of love. Wouldn’t you say?"

Hermione squeezed Severus’s hand fondly. "I think it might have," she said quietly. Severus had loosened up enough over the years that he could lean down and give her a quick kiss. She looked up into the lovely black eyes she’d grown to love and sighed with contentment.

With great reluctance, she turned from her husband back to the aged wizard standing in front of her. "Arthur? Thank you."