60 – What's next?

The war was over but to most of us it seemed like it was still looming close, waiting to tear us under again. Life did not just go on because life wasn't the same for those of us who had lost someone special to death's cold clutches. We might have been working the same jobs as before this fateful year but whenever we encountered a place where they should be right now, it seemed like it would be easier to be back in the woods, running from forces unknown to us than to experience this surreal situation of being in a familiar place without the right people.

After a seemingly endless session at work, which was especially painful because I had been working in the ward for creature injuries without seeing her delicate features and raven hair, I apparated over to George's apartment over the joke shop. We were two lost souls, I guessed, though he was worse than I was but how could I blame him? But I just couldn't leave him alone.

I walked through his messy apartment, picking up empty bottles of firewhiskey to discard them in the bin and then turning my attention to the clothes strewn across the room, picking them up and folding them in a neat pile. George stumbled out of his bedroom, having heard my entrance and groaned. "You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, thanks for asking. My day sucked, too." I said sarcastically, setting down his clothes on the maroon armchair as he plopped down on the couch, sloppily. "Drunk before noon, huh?" I asked, somehow making it not sound like an accusation and more like a question I would ask every day. His depression was worsening and there was nothing I could do but be there for him.

"What happened today?" He asked, kindly with a slurred voice.

I sat down next to him on the couch, resting my elbows on my knees and burying my face in my hands. "So now you're ignoring my questions?" I asked in amusement.

"Kitty, it's just…" He started, his brows furrowing.

"No." I interrupted him firmly. "No, George. I can't do this. I'm really trying to help you, I really am but please. Please talk to me. I don't mind you drinking or whoring around. I don't even mind that you really stink but I can't stand your silence." I ranted, tears forming in my eyes. Stupid hormones.

"What am I supposed to say?" He yelled, jumping up from the couch, only to sway dangerously. I jumped up to steady his arm but he took a step back to avoid my touch, making my insides squirm. His rejection hurt. I knew that it wouldn't be easy to help him but I was trying to be close to him and he was pushing me away harder than he should for someone who was attempting to help him. He kept yelling at me unaware of the tears on my cheeks, the stupid, hypocritical tears. "That I miss him. Of course, I do! He's everywhere in my mind but he should be here. He should be here!" He roared, punching the nearest wall as frustrated tears brimmed in his eyes.

"I know." I whispered, wiping at my wet cheeks in annoyance. I hated crying, it made me feel weak and useless, traits that I didn't want to possess at all. I needed to get my act together because George needed me more than I needed him and I had to show him I would be there no matter what. Whether he cared I was there or not. His family was there for him, too, but their resemblance only reminded him of what he lost. I understood why he couldn't face them because he wasn't the George they knew right now.

Warm arms encircled me, distracting me from my roaming thoughts. "I'm sorry, please don't cry. I don't want to be the reason you have to cry." He whispered huskily, his voice sore from shouting and drinking.

I melted into his embrace and hugged him back, enjoying the peaceful moment before he pulled back to study my face. I rested my hand lightly on my stomach, caressing the bump their softly. "Being pregnant has its perks but also its downsides so it's not completely your fault." I encouraged him, cautiously.

"May I?" He asked hesitantly, stretching his hand out. I nodded, replacing his hand with mine, watching his awed face as he felt my baby move. "Wow." He murmured, his wide eyes looking down at me.

"It's a miracle." I whispered, lovingly. We both just stood there for several moments and forgot our sorrow as we pondered the beauty of new life. As terrible as death was there was always a light that shone at the end of the tunnel, whether that was a baby that was on the way or a wedding that would be held in the near future or simply the passing days that eased our suffering tiny bit by bit. "George, I think we can do this." I told him softly.

"I think so, too." He sobbed, wiping at his eyes furiously. "But it doesn't seem right. I shouldn't be able to move on after losing him." He admitted, wretchedly.

I rested my hand on his arm lightly and gave him a small smile. "I'm sure Fred wouldn't mind if you learned to be happy again." He nodded and shook his head in turns, unsure of what to think at all. I just gave him another hug and left him to fend for himself for now, hoping that his head was a bit clearer now.

Throughout my life I have experienced a fair amount of pain, not only in the last year but also from several quidditch injuries and other things, but to give birth to a child was a whole new level of pain, something that you could only experience in labor.

But when I held my beautiful girl in my arms I knew that it was all worth it. Light brown wisps of hair were still damply pressed to her head and it was the most curious sensation to touch her tiny fingers. Her eyes were a captivating hazel color that would probably darken when she grew older.

Oliver crawled into the hospital bed next to me, carefully placing his arms around my shoulders to hold me and our daughter in his arms. One of his fingers traced her soft cheek as he murmured. "She's beautiful, just like her mother." He kissed my cheek gently and I allowed my head to droop against his shoulder, exhaustion making my body feel heavy and immobile.

"And she's not a werewolf in the tiniest bit." I said tiredly.

He chuckled. "Did you actually think she would be?"

"No, I'm too smart for that. I just had to think about Remus." I said sadly, remembering how worried he had been about little Teddy when he was born. "I'm scared." I admitted, not wanting to think about depressing memories for too long.

"Scared that our girl might want her meat bloody? I think we can handle that." He teased me, mesmerized by the small bundle in my arms as it started crying.

"No, I'm afraid of making a mistake with her." I said softly, adjusting her gently in my arms before I fed her for the very first time. "I never thought that I would be a mother this early. Not that it's too early and I'm not too panicky but now that she's here, it's real." I whispered, playing with the fluff of her hair as she drank greedily.

"I know. I'm not exactly sure whether I will be the perfect father but I know that I'll do my best for her. For Joyce Rigby soon to be Wood." He declared, carefully taking Joyce out of my arms and cradling her against his chest as I took a well deserved nap, the happy smile not leaving my face even in my soft slumber.

This was the day, the one day that so many girls dreamed of ever since they were children but I wasn't one of those girls. I never imagined my wedding and planned even the tiniest details of what was supposed to happen but now as I stood before the door that would lead me down the aisle and to Oliver. The same man that I had been with for almost ten years now and with whom I had a beautiful daughter that was currently confused because she couldn't sit on my lap at the moment.

Joyce was three years old now and already walked and talked, which made Oliver and I the proudest parents. "So Momma and Dad are merruin?" She asked, trying to mouth the strange word.

I couldn't blame her for being a bit amazed about what was going on. There were so many people and it was hard to explain to her what marrying actually meant, even I didn't understand why we did it at times. "Yes, Joy, you know what you have to do?" Dana intervened, rolling her eyes at me as she spared me the hassle of attempting to explain it to her once more. She was in that age where she wanted to know everything and her curiosity was seemingly endless.

"I'm the flower girl!" She exclaimed, happily and twirled around in her mint green dress with her white basket filled with the heads of lilac crocuses. Marrying didn't make sense to her but throwing flowers as the flower girl did, making me laugh. "Auntie Dana, when will you merru?"

"Whenever I want to, you cheeky little bugger." Dana exclaimed, snatching Joyce up and tickling her until she squealed helplessly.

Leila placed a calm hand on my shoulder as we stood before the full length mirror and said. "You look beautiful." My champagne colored dress had one strap that was adorned with beautiful crimson roses that covered most of the scars on my neck, a tight bodice that was stitched over and over with glimmering floral designs and the trail flowed out behind me elegantly. The crimson of the flowers on my shoulder was the only splash of color in my near white attire and the veil was worked intricately into my short dark hair. "Are you alright?" Leila asked, worriedly.

"Yeah, I can't believe I'm actually nervous." I admitted sheepishly, shaking my head at my own silliness. All I had to do was walk down the aisle and repeat what the priest said but marrying was a big decision and I was ecstatic. I took another deep breath and took the bouquet of white roses from her hands before I said. "I'm ready."

As I walked down the aisle with Joyce merrily throwing flowers around in front of me I wondered whether this was really what I had been visualizing when I had agreed on marrying Oliver during the battle of Hogwarts. Of course, I had really wanted to marry him but once again the reality of the event was so overwhelming that I could have hardly imagined it to be like this.

This was the next milestone in my life. Oliver, Joyce and I would officially become a family in the eyes of bureaucracy as Woods. It seemed so insignificant because we were already a family but it did mean something, it actually meant a lot.

The priest droned on about joining our lives and being a part of one unit and I just stared at Oliver's handsome features, taking a hold of his hand. His hair was a bit messy but other than that he looked impeccable in his tuxedo with the crimson tie, just the way I loved him and just the way he would always be.

"Do you, Oliver Wood, want to make the here present Katrina Rigby your wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, to honor her in good times and in bad until death do you part? Hence answer with yes, I do."

"Yes, I do." Oliver said, his eyes crinkling in a delighted smile as he gave my hands in his a gentle squeeze.

"Do you, Katrina Rigby, want to make the here present Oliver Wood your husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, to honor him in good times and in bad until death do you part? Hence answer with yes, I do."

" Yes, I do." I said with a slight quiver in my voice but a radiant smile on my lips.

"I hereby declare you groom and bride. You may now kiss the bride." The priest declared with a small smile gracing his lips.

We gently kissed for several moments before we turned to the applauding guests and I picked up Joyce to hold her close. From now on, we would be an inseparable trio, one that could face anything that life might throw at us. We had deserved ourselves a lifetime of happiness.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed my first story as much as I did. Thanks again to all those that have helped me finish it. I'm not sure what I'll do next but there will always be a next story. :)