Harry Potter and the Black Secret

Epilogue

Seven years. Had it really been that long already?

Time doesn't like to follow rules, even though it has so many applied to itself. Each moment should last the same as the next and the one prior to it, but some moments, some years, can fly past as if you've only paused to blink.

Sitting at a rustic looking oak desk, the lights dim so as not to wake his family, a hand held an ink soaked quill above a piece of parchment. It had been hovering there for quite some time now, but still the words wouldn't come.

The owner of the hand sighed and put the quill down on the table. The hand ran through a thick head of flame red hair and the young man to whom both attributes belonged leant back in frustration. How was he meant to start this letter? The usual nonsense, 'Hi, how are you? Had a nice summer, and oh, by the way, do you know what day it is next week?'

No. That wouldn't work. There was a reason he had to write this letter, an important reason not to be made light of. He had known this day would come, they all had, but now it was looming on the horizon the enormity of its effect was becoming clear.

They had in effect, been living a lie, partially at least, for the past seven years. He had watched and said nothing as Harry had searched for her for the best part of two years. He had kept silent when questioned by Ministry authorities over the infamous Azkaban breakout, only his trustworthy nature keeping him from being administered Veritaserum. And Hermione...

He had lived with her, loved her and married her. She knew everything about him, but he had never told her this. He couldn't. How would she react? Would she leave him?

Ron shook his head, determined not to think these thoughts again. He would know the answers to all his questions soon enough, although in the back of his mind, he did curse his being a Seer and not being able to choose what he saw.

He had to write this letter, tonight.

Still, if the words wouldn't come he thought...

Ron rose from the ruby coloured padded chair that resided by his desk and walked silently across the room to the cabinet Ginny had given himself and Hermione on their wedding day. He pulled out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and a glass, and then crossed the small room to stand in front of the bay window.

He wasn't a great drinker, but now and then, it just felt good to experience the sensation of cool hot liquid coursing down your throat. As he poured a glass he remembered the events that had led up to this moment. Where had it all begun? His mind became swarmed with long forgotten memories.

"I can't, I just can't. I know Harry, and he'll never accept Draco, and I can't not be with him."

"But your not with him," Ron said delicately, "I heard what happened Kriss. I'm so sorry, I know how much you love him, but there's nothing we can do. It's not fair, but that's the way it is. You can't cut yourself off from everyone else who cares about you. Come back to Hogwarts. Please."

"I can't go back to Hogwarts Ron," Kristine said, "Not now, not ever."

"I know it'll be hard, but facing it might help you to move on."

"It's more complicated than that," Kristine said.

"Why?" he demanded, "Give me one good reason why you can't come back."

"I'm pregnant," she said.

He had been so stunned when she had told him that, it must have been a good few minutes before he had spoken up. Pregnant? He hadn't even really considered that she and Malfoy were that serious. He knew they were in love, but well... Pregnant?

"Are you sure?"

She nodded her head, but refused to meet Ron's gaze.

"How long?"

"Six, seven weeks maybe, I'm not sure exactly. Everything's been such a blur since..."

"It's okay," Ron said, covering Kristine's hand with his own, "It'll be alright."

"Ron, I need to ask you something. I don't want to, but there's no-one else, and I don't want to pressure you, but I am going to do this whether you help me or not... but I really don't want to do it alone."

"Do what?" Ron asked cautiously, even though he knew that no matter what it was he was going to say yes.

That could easily be the moment when this had begun, but perhaps it started before that.

"Well tell me what it is I'm meant to have done instead of ignoring me like an immature six year old!" she shrieked after throwing an inkbottle at Ron's head, missing by mere inches.

"You really want me to broadcast it across the common room Kriss, because push me further and I swear I will!" he shouted, genuinely angry.

"What are you talking about?" she shouted, "You know what fine, if that's what it takes. You and me, outside, right now!"

"Fine!" he shouted storming out of the common room Kristine right behind him, slamming the portrait shut behind them.

Now in the empty corridor he turned to face her.

"Go on then?" she said, "Tell me what I've done?"

"You know perfectly well," he accused.

Kristine's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I haven't got the faintest bloody clue what you're talking about!" she cried out.

"You and Malfoy," he shouted back at her.

Ron smiled into his glass. They had laughed about that argument since, but he would never forget how intense it had been at the time. In truth, that had been the moment they had proved themselves to be true friends to each other, and they had only grown closer since.

Ron downed the last gulp of whiskey and went back to his desk. He paused to look at the triplet of photos that resided in front of him.

They all looked so happy together, complete. In the first photo was himself, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Kristine at the new years party that had taken place at Hermione's family home. In the centre there was a picture dedicated to Hermione alone, the one and only love of his life. The third photo contained three children, two of who were clearly twins, his and Hermione's own children, Jack and Clare. The third child Ron knew was their cousin Ben, the photo taken before he had gotten ill.

The death of their son had hit Harry and Ginny hard, but they had come through it and were stronger than ever. Ginny had recently given birth to a baby girl, Rayn.

So much had changed, so much had happened. Would they be able to make a new friendship together after everything that had happened in their separate lives?

The question hung in the air as a snowy owl tapped on the window demanding attention. Glad of the distraction, Ron walked back to the window and let the bird swoop into the room from the cold and deliver its letter.

He knew the script on the envelope and smiled. Wasn't he meant to be the psychic one?

He opened the envelope to find a Christmas card containing a letter and a Muggle photograph. He read the brief note in the card first and smiled sadly at her words.

To Ron, Hermione, Jack and Clare,

Thinking of you this Christmas and every day surrounding.

All our love,

Kriss, Draco and Ana. XxX

She always addressed cards to the whole family, even though she knew Ron would be the only one able to read them thanks to a nifty concealment charm by Draco.

Ron picked up the photograph that had fallen out of the card and couldn't help but stare at the three people gazing back at him. It was the first photo she had sent, it had been too risky before, but now that didn't matter. Their time was up.

She was sitting on a cushioned violet bench, typical to those found in photography studios. Her hair was different, curled and darker. It suited her. Her resemblance to Sirius was suddenly clear. Crouching behind her, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and chin resting on her shoulder was Draco.

Ron smiled. No change there. The only detail that made Draco look slightly different was the blissful smile on his face, matching perfectly the grin Kristine possessed. His other hand was resting on the shoulder of a young girl who was leaning against Kristine smiling shyly at the camera.

The girl was six years old; Ron knew this for a fact. Her birthday was as clear in his memory as all the other children of his friends. August 14^th. However, he had never seen a picture of this young girl and it took him a few minutes to fully take in her appearance.

She had her father's vibrant blonde hair that reached just above her shoulders; the stunning washed blue green eyes of her mother; and unblemished porcelain skin, a trait possessed by both her parents. But her physical features, beautiful though they were, didn't compare to the sparkle that illuminated from her. Something deep within this young girls soul stared out of the picture.

Love.

It was abundantly clear in the photo that this child was conceived, carried and raised by two soul mates. The passion her parents felt for each other could be seen in their eyes, and this girl was their pride and joy, the ultimate expression of their love and she knew it. If Ron hadn't known any different he would have known that these three people were perfectly happy without a single care between them.

He knew the truth though, and that was that these three people were perfectly happy in spite of all the many problems they had faced and were undoubtedly coming.

One challenge that the couple had faced after leaving England was the birth of this little girl. It hadn't been easy, Ron knew that. Kristine had nearly died for her daughter, but through some miracle she had lived and awoke just as Draco had had to officially name their child without her. Draco had been so panicked over Kristine's condition that he had risked talking to Ron via the international Floo Hub. Ron would never forget the pained look on his face when he said that the nurses wanted a name for the baby girl. He couldn't bear to name their daughter alone, but Ron had assured him that Kristine would understand and that the name Draco had chosen was perfect.

Anastasia Diana Kalani.

Looking at the young girl now Ron knew that no other name would suit her, except perhaps her real name. Ana Malfoy. It sounded right... one day maybe, she would be able to use her fathers name.

Ron had drifted into such deep thought that he didn't hear someone else enter the study and walk to stand behind him.

"I always wondered if you knew," Hermione said gently.

Ron jumped and turned to see his wife in her dressing gown smiling sadly. It took a moment to register that she could read the card and see the picture. They hadn't charmed it.

"'Mione, I wanted to tell you, but..." Ron stared to explain, but Hermione placed a quieting finger on his lips.

He silenced and Hermione kissed him softly on the lips.

"I understand," she said.

Ron was stunned into silence. She wasn't angry or upset. She was forgiving and understanding. He hadn't been prepared for that.

"Did you know?"

"No," she said, "but I knew that if anyone did, it would be you. She was a good friend to you Ron, so was Draco come to that, more a friend to you than the rest of us anyway. I know why you helped them and I know why you kept their secret. You were right to protect them."

"I love you," Ron said, sounding more relieved than intended.

Hermione laughed and kissed him again.

She picked up the photo and the card. Ron knew that her deductive mind was realising that Kristine must have been pregnant when she disappeared.

"Ana?"

"Its short for Anastasia."

"She's beautiful. Powerful."

"Powerful?" Ron asked confused by Hermione's term.

"She is part Vampire, part Veela and no doubt a Witch, so yes, powerful. Can't you see it? Her eyes sparkle with potential."

"You can tell all that from a photograph?" Ron teased, still relieved to be able to share this with Hermione.

She smiled, and then turned serious again.

"Will he ever find them?" she asked sadly.

"Maybe," Ron answered quietly, "Now that you know, the spell if broken, not that a week in advance will make much difference. It was due to expire anyway. I think the point is that now, he can find them... if he decides to look."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Its not really up to me," Ron said.

"Will she?"

"There's only one way to find out," Ron said, taking up his quill once again, now feeling that he could write his letter.

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ask them to come over for Christmas," she said, "I think it's about time we started to build some bridges."

Ron smiled as Hermione left the room, and he began to write.