Disclaimer: I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by not being J.K. Rowling.
(a/n: Okay, you people are way too excited about this epilogue. Lower your expectations a little. If I left you with questions, they're not going to be answered. If I left you with problems, they're not going to be resolved. It's just a weak little completely unnecessary time-skipping DH-style mini-epilogue with all the drama and deep meaning of marshmallow peep. Please be reminded that whenever you expect me to do anything properly, you are likely to be disappointed.
On another note, I know that my choice in lyrics here is going to result in someone thinking I'm a lesbian. And in fact I act more like a stereotypical lesbian than most actual lesbians do, which is really quite sad if you take into consideration the fact that I'm straight.
Oh well. I'm going to go watch Sean Michaels kick the shit out of people on my DVR and iron my flannel work shirts now. )
Epilogue: Love's Recovery
Nobody get a lifetime rehearsal
As specks of dust we're universal
To let this love survive
Would be the greatest gift that we could give
—Indigo Girls
"DRACO MALFOY, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"Not if you can't catch me you're not."
Harry threw down his oven mitt and took a poorly aimed swipe at Draco's head as he darted across the room.
"That took all day! Put it back!"
"I'm sorry, Harry. I've developed a deep emotional attachment to this cake."
"I hope you don't have a deep emotional attachment to sex, because we won't be having any. Give me back my cake!"
"It's not your cake. It's Rosie's. You just made it."
"Draco!"
His face split into an irritating grin and he licked an entire side of the cake in a way that should for no reason ever be applied to a child's confectionary item.
"That's disgusting and I'm going to murder you."
"Because I'm reminding you so vividly of last night?"
"No, because I don't want you molesting the cake I've been making for the last six and a half hours."
"So you're saying I should molest you instead?"
"No! Now put that damn cake down or so help me—"
"You'd think something you spent all day making would taste better."
"DRACO!"
Around the corner, just out of sight of the kitchen, two small figures stared at the two grown men acting more like children than they did.
"What are they doing?"
"I have no idea. But I think Uncle Draco's going to eat my birthday cake."
"What does molest mean?"
"Er…"
"What are you two monsters doing back here?"
Hugo and Rose jumped. Draco had somehow managed to sneak up behind them without either noticing, but Rose was quick to recover and turned around with her hands on her hips in a way alarmingly reminiscent of her mother. "You've gotten spit all over my cake, Uncle Draco."
"Yeah. Disgusting, eh?"
"You're gross."
"Oh really?"
"Yes really."
"Hmm. Well, I suppose then I should spit all over your birthday present as well so it'll match, shouldn't I? I'll just go and—"
"Ew! No, no, no, don't!"
"I'll just fetch it right out of the closet. Come on, Hugo, you can help me spit."
"Cool!"
"You've got such a way with children, Draco," said Harry irritably. His shirt was coated with various baking materials and he had a streak of chocolate frosting across his face. Draco had clearly been the victor of their confrontation.
"Nasty little buggers," Draco said seriously, swooping Hugo up into the air and tickling him mercilessly. "Can't stand them. Let's never have any."
"That should be fairly easy."
"Uncle Harry, what's a molest?"
Harry flushed bright red. Draco burst out laughing.
"I can demonstrate if you like."
"Don't you dare—"
And as had happened at least once a day for well over a decade, the rest of Harry's sentence was cut off by an intense kiss. Harry rolled his eyes but didn't bother pushing him away.
"Mummy! Dad! They're snogging again!"
"Quit poisoning my children with that crap, Malfoy!"
"Shut up, Weasley."
"We're not coming here anymore!"
"You say that every time."
Digging through the closet to defend whatever gift her maniac uncles had gotten her, Rose Weasley sighed loudly.
Grown-ups could be so weird.
(a further a/n: I always like to end my stories on a sort of "Huh?" note, leaving you wondering what the hell you just read and what the point of reading it actually was. And I feel I have accomplished that here today. Mainly I just wrote this because a) my mother has put me on one of her crazed Nazi diets so this syrupy crap is the most access to sugar I'm going to get, b) so you know that Draco and Harry lived happily ever after in an unbearably cheesy way that makes me throw up a little when I read it over, and c) as usual I didn't have anything better to do with my time.
So where do we go from here? Well, I might take a break to work on my own fiction considering I haven't written anything more original than a grocery list since September, but given that I've already started work on my next fic this is probably unlikely happen. Such is the story of my life.
Thank you for your time, dear readers.
Please don't forget I exist.)