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The wedding party is in full swing. My brother and I walk towards the tent. Harry, in dress robes, stands on the periphery, absently fiddling with the snitch as Bill and Fleur twirl madly within a clapping circle of well-wishers. Harry's gaze drifts to Ginny, laughing as Fred and George rush the dance floor, briefly sweep Fleur away from Bill, then begin to dance with each other. I look to Hermione, stunning in black silk, then to Ron, who ignores all, his eyes focused entirely on Hermione.

Far across the garden, Hagrid wends through the tables in his horrible hairy suit and presents a slice of cake to a pleased Olympe Maxim.

Nearby, Tonks, hand to her belly, leans forward and whispers something to Mrs. Weasley, who reacts with happy surprise. Harry and I study Tonks' belly.

"We want you to be the godparents."

We turn, seeing Lupin standing behind, staring at Tonks with affection. As his eyes shift to us. Harry begins to stutter.

"You mean- But that's brilliant!"

"We... don't know what to say." I smile at him.

"Say yes." Lupin grins, claps Harry on the shoulder and gives me a small side hug. He then hikes off into the darkness, joining the wizards standing guard in the garden's deepest shadows. I look back to Tonks, then notices a slight, tuffy-haired wizard sitting alone at a table just beyond her.

"Hello, Harry! Hello, Amelia!" Luna approaches in the company of a cross-eyed wizard with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candy floss. Both wear robes the color of egg yolk. "Oh, I've interrupted your deep thoughts, haven't I? I can see them growing smaller in your eyes."

"No, 'course not." Harry brushes it off.

"How are you, Luna?" I say, wrapping my arms around her.

"Very well. I was bitten by a garden gnome only moments ago." She holds up her finger, which is sheathed in blood.

"Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial! Xenophilius Lovegood. We live just over the hill!" He smiles.

"Nice to meet you, sir." My brother and I smile. He then suddenly leans close, and whispers fiercely.

"I trust you know, Mr. and Miss Potter, that we at The Quibbler, unlike those toadies at the Daily Prophet, fully supported Dumbledore during his lifetime and in his death support you just as fully."

"Come, Daddy. Harry and Mia don't want to talk to us right now. They're just too nice to say so." Luna smiles.

Her fathers eyes burn with righteousness, a triangular eye dangling from a chain around his neck. As Luna pulls him away, Harry and I glance once again across the garden.

The wizard we saw earlier, sits alone, smiling absently as he observes the happy goings-on. As we get closer, I recognize him to be Elphias Doge, an author.

"Sir? May we sit down?" Harry asks him. The man looks up at us with wide eyes.

"Mr. and Miss Potter! By all means!" In a nervous flutter, Doge pours Harry and I a goblet of champagne.

"I found what you wrote in the Daily Prophet very moving, sir. I take it you knew Professor Dumbledore well?" Harry states.

"I certainly knew him the longest, if you don't count his brother Aberforth, and somehow, people never do seem to count Aberforth."

"We never even knew he had a brother, sir." I tell him.

"Yes, well, Dumbledore was always very private. Even as a boy." He takes a sip from his goblet.

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