OK, here's the epilogue. I didn't think the lyrics for the bonus track meshed well, so this is the epilogue as the nice little bow on the package. No lyrics here, sorry if it doesn't go with the spirit of the challenge.
A loud crash sounded from the top of the stairs, followed by the sound of two sets of feet running from the scene of the crime. Two boys with red, bushy hair streaked into the living room, something white clutched in their hands.
"Fred! Hugo!" Hermione snapped, and the boys came skidding to a halt.
"Yes, Mum?" they asked in unison, hiding the white thing behind their backs.
She marched up to them and held her hand out. "Whatever it is, hand it over."
"Hand what over?" Hugo asked.
"Don't got nothing, Mum," Fred reassured.
"I didn't spend years of my life running around saving Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron's hides just to let two five year olds get the best of me. Now hand it over."
Turning red Fred held the object out.
"The toilet seat?!?" Hermione cried in disgust.
From the lounger behind them George let out a snort.
Hermione turned to her husband, who put his hands up in the air and tried to look innocent. "Did you put them up to this?"
"I would never encourage damage of our communal property, sweetie," George smiled up at her.
"But Dad, you told us..." Hugo started.
"If you don't finish that sentence I'll give you a cookie."
"Yay!" Fred squealed. "Cookie!"
"George, did you just bribe our twins?" Hermione crossed her arms.
"Yes. Yes, I did," he flashed a cocky smile as he stood and walked to the kitchen. He returned a few seconds later with two cookies in his hand, and he handed one to each child.
"George..." she started, but he cut her off by pressing his lips to her.
"Ewww....." the boys said in unison before scampering off towards their room.
"You snake," she muttered, leaning in for another kiss.
He hissed softly, and she hit him lightly on the arm.
"I'll fix the toilet before nature calls. No harm, no foul."
"I don't think that we should be teaching the boys the finer points of vandalism this early."
"OK, OK. I'll wait until they're nine."
"George..."
"I need to teach them before they go to Hogwarts, and it'll probably take two years or so to teach them everything."
"You don't need to teach them everything you know," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself to him.
"But how are they going to uphold the Weasley tradition if they don't know? I've still got a bit of swamp there, that's a lot of reputation to live up to."
Hermione rolled her eyes before reaching up to give him a kiss.
From the twins' room there came a bang followed by screaming laughter.
"Why did I breed with you?" she groaned, her head falling back.
George chuckled and moved to investigate the new sound.
"Just make sure they don't make too big of a mess," she called after him. "Your family and Harry are supposed to be here any minute."
"Our family, dear!" he smirked before disappearing up the stairs.
Hermione settled on the couch and put her feet up in what felt like the first time in ages. She gazed at the wedding portrait hanging over the mantle, and couldn't believe it had been ten years since she and George had walked down the aisle. Well, walked down the aisle was a stretch. They had been on vacation with Harry and Ron about two months after George had asked her to get married (what could they say, sun and surf called) when they decided that it was as good a time as any to get married. They contacted the event coordinator at the resort they were staying at, and three hours later were declared husband and wife on the beach, their feet in the surf.
Harry and Ron had taken it in stride. They had been shocked that George had proposed at first (Ron, of course, grumbled that she was just doing it to force them to 'grow up', though he did it with a smile) but afterwards the snap decision wedding didn't surprise them as much as Hermione would have thought. 'Just George's nature,' Ron had said as he escorted her in her new white sundress onto the sand.
Molly nearly fainted. She had been dreaming of another big wedding along the line of Bill and Fleur's with all her family, so when George handed her the picture album without warning Hermione thought she had never seen anyone turn so white so fast. But she got over it quickly and didn't stop refering to Hermione as her daughter for three months.
Hermione's parents were sad they weren't able to see their only child get married, but had welcomed George into their family with open arms, and held a big party in celebration of their marriage, which was probably better than any wedding Hermione would have spent months stressing over.
They had spent their first five years just enjoying each others company when George decided he wanted to be a daddy. Hermione readily agreed and two months later discovered she was pregnant. The twins arrived eight months later. She became a stay at home mother for two years, but was pining to return to work, so she found a daycare and returned to Healing.
"They're washing their faces so Granny doesn't freak out," George returned to the room.
"How did you get them to do that?" Hermione asked in shock.
"I told them that if Nargles attack their faces if they were messy when their Grandma comes in the house."
"Nargles?" she lifted an eyebrow.
"Quiet. It got them to wash up," he wrapped his arms around her and bent down to kiss her. After ten years it still brought the same excitement as when they had first kissed. He lowered himself so he was on top of her and deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself to him.
"Ahem," the sound of a throat clearing brought them back to the moment. They looked up in unison to see Harry and Ron standing in their door, Harry smiling, Ron looking disgusted.
"Interrupting a private moment?" Harry asked. "We could come back later."
"Uncle Harry!" Hugo cried, running into the room and attaching himself to Harry's knees.
"Uncle Ron!" Fred rushed at his other uncle, nearly tackling him.
"It's the monsters!" Ron said, scooping up Fred and giving him a kiss.
"Done any damage to public property recently?" Harry asked the boys.
"No," they replied in unison with sheepish looks.
"Just private property," Hermione tattled on her sons, straightening her shirt and going over to give Harry and Ron a hug.
"I fixed it!" George rolled his eyes.
"Doesn't mean they didn't destroy my toilet to begin with," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Just wait until they get their wands," Molly's voice floated in as she entered the house.
"I don't know how you managed," Hermione smiled, giving her a hug. "I'm nominating you for sainthood."
"Firm hand," Molly smiled. "Don't give them an inch."
"And by that she means don't give them a cookie after they blow the toilet up," she shot a look at George.
"Did you really?" Molly turned to her son, hands on her hips.
"What can I say?" George defended himself. "They're after their dad's heart."
"George," Molly shook her head. "How am I ever going to convince Hermione to give me more grandchildren if you spoil the ones you already have?"
"Keep dreaming, Mom," George said. "I've been barking up that tree for two years, Hermione isn't going to budge."
"Maybe if you didn't have a knack of asking me right after they took all the hair off poor Crookshanks, or flew their brooms into the neighbor's windows, or gotten into your stash of all things explosive I might be more willing to consider it."
At these words the ginger cat, whose hair was considerably shorter than normal, looked up at her and made a growling noise.
Molly and Hermione made their way into the kitchen as Harry, Ron, George, Arthur, and the twins made their way to the backyard for some Quidditch practice.
"What do you want me to help with, Molly?" Hermione asked, looking around. Molly put her purse on the table and started pulling containers of pre-made food onto the table.
"Can you start heating these up and getting them into containers?"
"What did I tell you? I didn't need to you do all the cooking."
"It's what I do, Hermione," Molly smiled. "I used to have to cook about half a grocery store a day when I had all the boys in the house. Now that it's just me and Arthur I miss making large meals for lots of people."
"I am serious about nominating you for sainthood," Hermione muttered, pulling out serving dishes.
"I'm no saint. I'm just a woman who loves her family, just like you."
"I'm just lucky to be a part of it." She looked out the window to see George instructing Fred on how to properly hold a beater's bat. She sighed and just watched for a while, and was happier than she ever hoped she would have been. And all because of a little trip to Mexico.
That's seriously the end this time. No more false finishes ;). Thank you for reading! And a final review would be appreciated.