All Bets Are Off

Epilogue

"I'm home!" Hermione called, stepping out of the floo and slipping her shoes off. She neatly placed them on the rug, next to the three other pairs that had been tossed haphazardly. Resisting the urge to straighten them, Hermione followed the smell of Italian spices to the kitchen. "Something smells good."

Fred was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by parchments and his hands stained with ink. Two plates of lasagna and garlic bread sat on the counter.

"Hi, love," he greeted as Hermione kissed his cheek. His eyes and voice were heavy with exhaustion.

"Hugo and Eliza already eat?" she asked, hanging up her purse and robes.

"Yes. It was one of the only ways I could get them to stop running through the house like a couple of banshees."

Fred gathered his parchments and sent them flying towards the office. When he had scrubbed his hands clean, he caught up with Hermione and gave her a proper kiss.

"What was the other way?" she asked.

A loud bang, followed by uncontrollable laughter from the playroom answered her before Fred could. Hermione smiled and went to investigate.

After the wedding, Molly and Arthur had gifted them a plot of land on the opposite side of the orchards, insisting their small flat was nowhere near big enough for their fast-growing family. Fred and Hermione wasted no time and got right to work, designing and building a brand new house. They moved in shortly after the twins had been born.

Since then, Hermione had had to adjust to being in the middle of chaos and lock away some of her perfectionist tendencies. Her son and daughter had inherited their father's love for all things that went boom and were elated when he let them tag along to one of the shops.

Not long after the birth of George's daughter, Roxanne, the boys decided to expand their empire and took over Zonko's in Hogsmeade. Inspired by their own children's curiosity, they set up the new place as half-shop and half hands-on classroom. Every weekend they would host a free workshop, letting kids come in and experiment with different, kid-friendly ingredients, letting their imaginations run wild. The workshops led to their best-selling product yet- Magical Chemistry sets.

When Hermione reached the playroom door, she found Hugo and Eliza huddled together over their small work table, each wearing toddler-sized safety goggles and poking at a lump of blue ooze that appeared to slowly be moving across the table on its own accord.

"Ew, what have you two created this time?" Hermione said, kneeling down between the two.

"Mummy!" they cried, throwing themselves onto her.

She caught one in each arm and kissed them as many times as she could before they wriggled out of her grasp.

"Daddy said we could 'speriment," Hugo said, holding up a chemistry set box.

Hugo George was the spitting image of his father- a mop of red hair, big, brown eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

"We made slime. His name is Bob," Eliza said, pointing to the blue blob that had reached the edge and was starting to slide down the table leg.

Eliza Margeret was a perfect blend of Hermione and Fred. She inherited Hermione's curls, but instead of a mane of brown frizz, Eliza's hung in perfect, beautiful copper ringlets. Her eyes didn't mirror either of her parents, though, but were the sparkling blue of her Grandad Weasley.

"I see. Make sure Bob gets secured in a container. No one wants to find him in their bed tonight." She kissed their heads and started back down the hall.

When she reached the kitchen, Fred had cleared the table and was setting glasses of wine beside their dinner plates.

"Sorry I'm so late this evening. I had an appointment that I couldn't reschedule," Hermione said, settling into her chair.

"It's fine, love. Those two just had a bit of extra zing in them today. They seemed to get a second wind after we got home and wouldn't settle until I brought out that kit." Fred sighed and fell into his chair. "They've sucked all the energy outta me, Min. Did we really have to teach them how to walk and talk? It was so much easier when we could just pop 'em in a cot with some toys and crackers."

"Mmm, it's funny you say that," Hermione said, taking a bite of her lasagna.

"Why's that? Do they make cots for four-year-olds?"

"No. Well, yes, but I think those are just called cages, darling." Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table to Fred. She took a bite of bread and chewed slowly, watching Fred's reaction.

He picked up the thin slip of paper and stared at the fuzzy black and white picture. His eyes went wide, but so did his smile. He reached across and took Hermione's glass of wine, downing it in one gulp. After a small belch, he took Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"There's only one this time right?"

Hermione laughed and nodded.

"Yes, just one this time," she assured.

The End