The Things We Do For Love

Epilogue

Seven Years Later

He found the flight home refreshing.

Sitting back in somewhat comfortable seat, his head leaned against the window, watching the British Isles slowly come into view on the horizon. Five years were a long time to have not visited, but he knew that his family understood. He needed to heal and to do that he needed a fresh start.

Teaching at the Salem Academy of Magic in America had been that fresh start for him – far away from home, in a country where his name and disorder wasn't widely known. It'd been a cathartic few years, but now he was ready to go home.

The fact that Neville had owled him to offer him a post at Hogwarts probably did have something to do with it.

"So, this is where you grew up?" she asked, her head resting on his shoulder. A tired yawn escaped her lips and he chuckled, looking down to where their fingers were loosely linked.

"A bit further inland, actually," he said, grinning. "Welcome to Britain, Esme."

The rest of the trip flew by the two of them, until at last they'd landed and collected their luggage. Looking at the clock and feeling the first symptoms of jet-lag, he sighed. Whilst magic could have gotten them there faster, he enjoyed travelling in Muggle ways.

It was very calming to just sit and enjoy the scenery.

Their suitcases were light as feathers, even considering that they held in them everything they'd owned in America. Magic was good that way, and he easily hefted both bags into the air and guided his girlfriend through the busy airport.

It was all of ten minutes later when they arrived at Grimmauld, leaving the suffocating blackness of Apparition behind them as they appeared on the front porch. James hesitated, for just a moment, before he knocked three times and waited.

"Uncle James!"

He looked up, his face breaking out into a broad grin at the site of his nephew and niece sticking their heads out the first floor window. Waving back, he saw them disappear, only for the sounds of little feet crashing down the stairs and shouts for their parents.

"I missed those two," said Esme, "It's been ages since your brother last visited."

"I think that goes both ways – it's been years since we visited."

"Touché, Potter," she said with a laugh, and the two of them stood, waiting for the front door of his childhood home to open.

.o0o.

"I want Uncle Louis on my team!" yelled Bartido George Weasley, "You had him last time!" The boy held up a football, keeping it away from his other cousins by taking advantage of their height difference. Sticking out a lip, he said, "I'm not going to play unless we get Uncle Louis this time."

"No, you had Uncle Louis last time," said Parvati Thomas, named for her late grandmother, and folded her arms.

"It's our turn," echoed her twin, Atish Thomas, rolling his eyes.

Louis laughed at the scene as he stood on the back veranda, a glass of scotch in his hands. The ice-cubes clinked as he watched the children with Rohan and Lysander at his side, the three of them enjoying the relative peace of a weekend.

"Are they always fighting over you?" asked a familiar voice, and Louis jumped. Turning his head, his eyes widened and he pulled the other man into a hug without thinking. Then, he smacked his cousin on the back of the head.

"James, you tosser, why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Surprise?" said James, shrugging, but Louis noticed his cheerful grin did not fade. "How're you doing, Louis?"

"As you can tell, I'm waiting for one them to tire themselves out arguing so they can't plead and beg when I tell them I'm not playing. I really don't have the energy for another game today, and my leg is killing me."

"Oh, that'd just break their hearts," said Lysander with a smirk. "How many of their uncles have a leg made off solid silver?"

"Is that why they all want you?" asked James, chuckling. "Because you can kick the ball the hardest?"

"They also like me the best," replied Louis, tapping his leg and letting the metallic clang echo around the yard. "I'm the cool uncle."

"Of course you are," said James, patting his cousin on the shoulder and turning to watch the children. Just then, Esme appeared in the kitchen window, her soft laughter washing over them all. Turning back, James watched as she and Cassiopeia settled down in chairs and worked on a salad of some sort, chatting about Merlin knew what.

"Oh my," said Rohan, raising an eyebrow. "Someone forgot to mention they've finally found someone."

"Is that what's kept you in America so long, Jamie-boy?" asked Lysander. "Where you looking for Neverland with Tiger-Lily over there?"

James flushed, and the other men chuckled.

.o0o.

"Should I be worried that my brother decides to come home without even letting me know he's coming?" asked Lily, wheeling her way into the living room. Her hair was pulled into a high-ponytail, her legs shrouded in a long skirt to hide the atrophy. She smiled, leaning forwards and he knelt to embrace her.

"For the seventh time today, it was meant to be a surprise to show up for mother's birthday," he said. "And another one to announce I'm staying."

"Permanently?"

"Of course," he said, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for her to wheel herself into a comfortable position. He'd have helped, but he knew his sister – it would be an insult, in her mind, for him to push her wheelchair around.

"Good, because I really missed you, git," she said, "You didn't even stay the night after my championship game."

"It was the middle of the American school term, Lily," he explained, for what seemed like the thousandth time. "I had classes to teach in the morning."

"I know, I know," she replied. "But I'm playing a charity benefit this weekend, and if you're not there for the entire victory celebration I will end you."

"I'll be there," he promised, considering his sister. It was rare for a disabled person to play Quidditch in their world, but Lily had never stopped in her dreams, even when Rose had stabbed her in the spine. Now, she was a hero in her own right, the first person to introduce a Paralympic version of Quidditch, and even James admitted that it was a sight to see.

That didn't really stop his sister, to be honest, from keeping her position on the Harpies. Chasers didn't really need their legs, so once she'd gotten onto her modified broom, she was just as good as she'd ever been.

It really was an inspiration story – he was surprised Louis hadn't yet written about it for the Daily Prophet.

"I don't see the point," said Albus good-naturedly, walking into the room. "We already know she's going to win." He smiled, throwing his dark eye-patch into sharp contrast against his otherwise unblemished face, but James knew what lay beneath. At the least, Albus always had a standard costume for Halloween.

"Very true, Al, but there will be snacks," said Lily, a grin in place.

(As the three of them caught up, the portrait above the fireplace smiled, a twinkle in his green eyes as he ran his hand through his hair, revealing a single, lightning-shaped scar.)

.o0o.

"So, when's James going to put a ring on it?" Cassiopeia asked, prodding at the two roast chickens in the oven with a fork to check if they were ready. "Before or after I get a nephew or niece?"

She chuckled as Esme nearly dropped the fork she was holding, and as she rose to her feet she watched her brother-in-law's girlfriend surveying her through wary eyes. It was rather odd to see the two of them together, honestly, for the differences were striking. Where Cass was fair, Esme was dark, and it was amusing. Both of them were Pureblood witches, but where she'd descended from the kings and queens of wizarding France, Esme had the blood of the Cherokee elders running through her veins.

It was funny how the world brought two such different people together.

"How'd you –"

"Esme, I've given birth twice and am currently expecting a third. Believe me when I say I can tell when a woman is pregnant," Cass said with a laugh. "Does he know?"

"I was waiting to be at three months before telling him," she said. "Make sure that I'm out of that high risk window."

Cass nodded, disapproving, but knowing it wasn't her place to push. On one hand, she understood – James had dealt with more disappointment and heartbreak in his life than any man she knew, and so for his girlfriend to be willing to hold off the announcement to be sure the child was safe was understandable. On the other hand, the woman in her who'd loved having Albus there during the early stages of each pregnancy wanted to reach out and smack some sense into the other woman.

Still, it wasn't her business.

"I take it you're moving here permanently now?" she asked, casually changing the subject.

.o0o.

Hugo left his office early that day, pausing at the door to pay his respects to the two portraits he'd had installed on either side of the frame. One, his mother, and the other, Francesca, both captured in the Muggle style.

"I've been waiting for you," said Claire, leaning against his vacant receptionist's desk.

"Can't have been waiting long," he said, before pulling her in for a quick peck on the lips. "There was nobody out here when I went out to get some coffee from the break room."

"Ten minutes is a long time, love," she said, linking her arm with his and heading for the lifts.

The Auror department was operating on a skeleton staff as it did on most Sundays, so he didn't pass anyone of note as he left. He didn't mind – today, for some reason, he wasn't feeling overtly sociable.

"You never told me why you left the Guardian Core," said Claire as they entered the lifts and hit the button that would take them to atrium.

Hugo looked at her, a soft smile on his face. She'd still been in Hogwarts during his sister's reign of terror, and she didn't know the terror and pain that he'd gone through. That so many had lived through – to this day, he woke up stiff, often feeling phantom pains in his limbs courtesy of that blasted Cruciatus bullet.

He liked her well enough, even as he understood that she'd never know exactly why he'd settled into the role of Head Auror following his recuperation. For him, it was the best decision of his life.

"Let's just say that I love working in law enforcement and bringing in the bad guys," he said, as the elevators dinged and slid open. "But I love being able to spend time with my family more."

Author's Note:

So, this is the end of The Things We Do For Love. I hope you all enjoyed it, and special cookies to everyone who guessed the killer before the reveal.

Thank you for all the love and reviews I've gotten throughout this piece, and I hope you all are having an excellent day.

-Ciao Mates

Shane