A/N: Huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story or just went along on the ride with me! I know this was kind of an unusual AU setting, so it means a lot that you gave it a chance. This is just a little epilogue, so I hope you enjoy it! Huge shout out to Toraach for helping me with the names in this chapter! If you enjoyed this, please follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where you can get updates about future stories, etc.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty one!

Five Years Later

Walking into his home, Antonin noticed his mischievous son, Pavel, trying to get into the pumpkin pie that his wife had cooling on the counter. Smiling, he bent over to pick him up, setting him on his shoulder. "Pasha, what has your mother told you about eating sweets before dinner?"

The four year old didn't even look a bit repentant at having been caught, only sorry that he hadn't gotten to enjoy any of the sweet treat. "That it will ruin my dinner." He said, his little voice clearly annoyed.

Antonin couldn't hide a smile. He'd been so ecstatic to learn that Hermione was pregnant after their successful revolution. But, then he had many weeks while his son grew inside of her to become nervous. He didn't want to be a father like the one he'd had growing up. He could be strict, yes, but never would he hold his children to such exacting standards.

After Hermione had gone through the difficult labor and told him that he had a son, Antonin had felt his heart swell with such love that he knew he would never treat his children as he had been treated. The perfect little boy in his arms deserved so much more.

He'd initially scoffed at giving his children Russian names, not wanting to make them outcasts in their new colony, but in the end, Hermione hadn't given him a choice. She spent her pregnancy up to her neck in Russian history books, until she found names that she liked. Really, Antonin could never argue with her.

Turning his son around in her arms, he was often surprised by how much a miniature of himself Pavel was. Though, he could see a bit of Hermione in his expressive brown eyes, and dark curly hair. "Where is your mother now?" He asked, trying to keep a serious face.

Pasha didn't believe his bluff for a second. "She is changing Stasha after she got flour on her dress."

His daughter, Nastasha, was just two years old and was at the stage where she had to do everything with her mother. "Let's go see them, shall we? We don't want to be late for the party." Antonin walked up the stairs, Pasha resting on his hip, to the upper level of the cabin. They had expanded their little cabin twice in the five years since the colony became independent. They'd even put in stairs once Hermione had become too pregnant to climb up the ladder.

Pushing the door open to his daughter's room, he saw he dressed in the pink dress her Aunt Luna had given her for a birthday. The one that was embroidered with radishes. He couldn't stop the smile from his face. "Don't you look beautiful, Stasha. Are you ready for the party?"

His daughter had wavy blonde hair, to both her parents' surprise, but Antonin knew that she took after his mother and sister. She also had his impossibly dark eyes. Hermione often complained that she was all Dolohov and not even a little bit Granger. Still, while his daughter might not take after her mother in looks, it was certainly where she got her inquisitive nature. Nastasha was constantly asking about all things around the house and in the yard. She would be content to spend hours in the garden with Hermione, or in the chicken coup, or even with the docile goat that they had finally got three years before.

Nastasha gave him a shy nod from where she was sitting, playing with one of the radishes on her dress.

"Shall we go? We don't want to be late." Hermione asked, giving him a brilliant smile. His wife might be five years older, but she was still as beautiful as the first day he'd met her. Their relationship wasn't all smooth sailing - Hermione still hated being told what to do, and he was probably always a bit too possessive - but they were better together than they were apart. Their love for one another had grown with each year.

Each of them taking a child, Antonin and Hermione apparated over to the Lestrange cottage, where they were celebrating the first birthday of Luna and Rabastan's fourth child, a girl called Hermione. He had once asked Luna about their veritable menagerie of children, and she'd gone much too in depth about a fertility ritual she performed every Samhain with Rabastan, while Rab just sat next to his wife and smirked.

Little Hermione's three older siblings were four year old Pandora - named for Luna's mother - three year old Edmund - named for Rabastan's father - and two year old Xenophilius - named for Luna's father. Hermione had been embarrassed to have this most recent Lestrange named in her honor, but Luna had been insistent. Apparently Rabastan didn't care to have his mother honored, and Hermione was the first person that came to both his and Luna's mind.

Despite growing up together, Pandora and Pavel did not have the close friendship that their mother's had hoped for. No, Pasha preferred to spend his time with Arthur Rowle. Although the child had started out as a Malfoy, Ginny had given her two children - William following his older brother Arthur - their stepfather's name when she married Thorfinn.

Antonin was probably the most surprised when Thorfinn began courting Ginny Malfoy. The big, lumbering man had been a frequent visitor at their home after the revolution, as he was intensely curious about Antonin's wife, a woman who had transformed the gruff man into someone tolerable, he would joke.

Hermione had been friendly with Thorfinn right off the bat, knowing that he was a good friend to Antonin through the years. Antonin just had expected them to get along quite so well, always gossiping and arguing. Thorfinn loved to tell Hermione naughty stories because of how brightly red she would blush. It always made Antonin a bit uncomfortable, perhaps seeing that the pair was suited for one another, and Thorfinn was much closer in age to Hermione. Perhaps she would prefer a younger man than him?

It had been a relief to see how doe eyed Thorfinn went the first time Ginny had visited for tea while he was there. It wasn't as though he ever doubted Hermione's honesty, but to learn that the other man was not after his witch was a relief. Now Thorfinn and Ginny had been married for several years, and they had a daughter of their own, a girl called Thea. All three of the children had strawberry blond hair.

When they arrived at the Lestranges' cottage, Hermione left to see if Luna needed any help with the food, Nastasha still firmly on her hip, while Antonin set Pasha down to play with the other children, before looking for Reuben. He found the man easily enough, grinning like a loon and apparently well into his cups. "What's the celebration about?" He was surrounded by empty bottles of the alcoholic cider that Luna made - quite the success in the fledgling colony.

Yaxley gave him a devilish smile before passing a letter across the table. "My wife has contracted dragon pox! She's likely to die!" Antonin thought it was cruel to rejoice the death of your wife, but he supposed in Yaxley's case, they could make an exception. Reuben had never had a relationship with a woman in the colony, but he had become rather fond of the new barmaid, who'd joined the colony from France. She never took any of Yaxley's nonsense, but Antonin thought that his friend might actually enjoy the scolding.

Despite several attempts to reclaim the colony, King Voldemort eventually gave up, perhaps finding them too far away to worry about. Or, perhaps he grew tired of receiving the remains of all the soldiers he sent over. Immediately after Umbridge and Greyback had been returned to England, he sent a larger force. Only, this time the colony was ready, and sent back the dead. A few of the soldiers chose to remain, free men. The cycle continued for three years, but they hadn't been bothered now in over a year.

As time went on, services between the two countries gradually resumed. They still received post, and after extensive negotiation with the goblins, they were able to access their vaults as well. Hermione had been instrumental in resuming the negotiations. The fact that she grew up outside of traditional wizarding culture meant that she was able to more carefully tread through the goblins culture. Not to mention that they trusted her more. She was still working with them to try to get their own branch of Gringotts opened right there in the colony.

That's not to say that it was all smooth sailing. The first two winters had been exceptionally hard, and it was difficult to ration food for so many who were used to eating like Kings. It had taken numerous meetings with everyone in the newly built town hall to manage the worry and unrest, but he'd done it. It was times like that that Antonin hated being seen like some kind of de facto leader. He just wanted to continue to design houses for others, and mind his own business.

But, before long, they were able to restore services and even expand their village to accommodate the growing number of adventurers who came to join them. Food stores were at all time highs, seeing as Yaxley had come up with a way to help preserve the fresh food that they harvested every fall, and they'd begun breeding livestock.

Antonin looked around the party, happy to see that everyone was enjoying themselves. Nastasha was playing with Xeno - with their similar blond curls, it was almost as though they could be siblings - and Pasha was playing hide and go seek with some of the older boys. He looked around for Hermione, only to find him walking his way, carrying little Hermione.

She sat down in the bench next to him, holding the baby on her lap. She turned to look at her husband, wide doe eyes trained on him, lashes fluttering. "I think that I want another baby, Antonin."

He felt a surprised gasp leave him, but Yax saved him before he had to talk. "Oh, not another one! You really want another little ankle nipper following you around? Nastasha barely leaves you alone as is." Antonin knew that Reuben was teasing, but also that he missed Hermione when she wasn't able to help him brew as often.

She just laughed at him. "Well, yes. Just being around this little one makes me miss having a baby to cuddle." It was times like this that Antonin wondered what kind of life Hermione Granger would have had if she'd been able to go to Hogwarts. Would she be a veritable housewife like she was now or some great scholar or ambassador? The only thing that kept him sane was her repeated promises that she loved the life she shared with him.

"You are just saying that because she has your name." Yaxley teased, though they could all agree that little Hermione was a nearly perfect baby.

"As if you don't like being godfather to my children." Hermione scoffed. "Surely you wouldn't mind one more!"

"Yes." Antonin said, kissing her against the temple. When Hermione had revealed that she was pregnant the first time, she was afraid that she was trapping him in their marriage. Maybe it was a little bit selfish, but if Hermione bore him another child, he knew that she would be a little more trapped with him. No matter how silly that statement was. "I can at least promise lots of practice." He whispered in her ear.

"Oi, not in front of the littl'n!" Yaxley hissed, those his reddened cheeks made it clear it was not the baby's ears that were embarrassed.

"Just doing my part to populate the new country." Antonin teased. That was the directive, the whole reason they'd been sent over, wasn't it? In fact, it was not the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last, that he thanked King Voldemort for his little wife. While he'd initially scorned the program, he knew that he loved his fille du roi with all his heart.