Hermione was crying.

She had been crying all day: when she woke up in Ginny's bed that morning, remembering the countless times they stayed up well past midnight, whispering their secret hopes to each other in a life that did not seem like theirs anymore; when she trudged up the stairs to Percy's old room to sit at the edge of the bed, her handing nudging Harry's shoulder, she cried when he flinched, pulling his wand out, pushing it against her cheek. When he settled, he muttered an apology, retrieving his glasses before he wiped her tears away, telling her he did not mean to frighten her. But that was not why Hermione had cried; her heart broke at the damaged parts of his mind the war had left behind, but also out of relief for the future it did not take away. After helping Mrs. Weasley with last-minute changes to the flowers, Hermione cried when Mrs. Weasley gave an approving nod; the war had taken one of her sons, but she still stood strong, breathed every day for the children she did have. After slipping into a beautiful, silk, pale-blue dress, Hermione cried when she opened Ginny's bedroom door and saw her in white.

"Enough with the crying, Granger," grunted Pansy as she pushed past her to get into the room, several makeup brushes floating behind her. "If I have to retouch your mascara a third time, I'm just going to curse off all of your eyelashes. Do not test me."

"Ah, there it is," said Ginny with a happy sigh, closing her eyes so Pansy could apply a wash of glitter on her eyelids. From where Hermione stood next to Luna, there was a reflective sheen that matched the icy, pale-blue shade of their dresses. "It isn't a Weasley wedding unless someone threatens a maid of honor. Remember when I had to scare petite Gabrielle from trying to use her veela-ness on Harry?"

Hermione took a deep breath, patting her cheeks with the bottom of her palms to dry the few tears that had dared to defy Pansy Parkinson. Although she was not the least bit unnerved by the Slytherin witch, Hermione understood what she was trying to do for Ginny. Pansy wanted everything to be perfect: the wedding dress, her hair and makeup, the maid of honor's hair and makeup, the bridesmaids', her mother's, and even Ron, who had slept in while everyone else scrambled to get started for the special day. If Pansy had all of that under control, then Ginny only had to worry about meeting Harry at the other side of the altar.

As maid of honor, of course, Hermione had checked ten times over that everything was running as it needed to be. When Pansy had arrived at the Burrow with a clipboard of her own, checking things off as she moved about, Hermione bit her tongue from reminding her she had taken care of everything already. After all, she understood what it meant for Pansy that she had been asked to be a bridesmaid.

Whereas Pansy's wealth came from stacks of gold, the Weasleys were rich in the people they called their own. She had never known that type of wealth; affection and loyalty were things she lacked, but it was what Ginny extended out when she asked Pansy to be a part of her wedding. It was not because she was Ron's inevitable spouse, but because Pansy had earned the family's loyalty.

They had seen what she had done for Ron in a few weeks.

"You really do look beautiful, Ginny," said Luna with a smile breaking past the sad glitter in her blue eyes. "Like Occamy eggs before they hatch."

"Thanks. I think?" said Ginny with a grin, opening her eyes as Pansy's next brush dusted pink on her cheeks. "You look beautiful, too, Lu. I thought you were going to wear the lion's head?"

"Pansy warned me not to," said Luna, rocking slightly on her bare feet. "I thought it was fitting, but if it's a Weasley tradition for your bridesmaids to get threatened, I will happily be intimidated."

Ginny turned narrowed eyes at Pansy, but the latter only scoffed. She knew Ginny would have not cared if all of her guests showed up in costumes, naked, or sporting giant lion heads, but Mrs. Weasley had asked her to make sure Luna left the head in a closet. And that was exactly what Pansy did.

"Is Dean here already, too?" asked Hermione as she looked out of the bedroom door, her ears picking up muffled voices from downstairs. "Did you Apparate here together?"

Luna stopped swaying on the balls of her feet. She raised the left one up, wiggling her toes and forcing her smile to widen. "Better go find my shoes. The gnomes took them when I got here."

"Lovegood, wait," said Pansy, but Luna had already hurried out past the door. "I better go make sure she actually gets her heels back. I don't want her with gnome-bitten toes," she said, taking all of her makeup brushes into one hand after giving Ginny a once over and nodding at the result.

She then marched over to Hermione, squinting at her face, proceeded to dust powder on her cheeks with the largest brush she had, then marched out of the room.

"There's something wrong with her, isn't there?"

"Definitely, but that happens to be Ron's problem," Ginny laughed. "Although, I think he needs some structure. Someone who terrifies him a little."

Hermione raised a brow. "No, not Parkinson. I meant Luna."

With a reluctant sigh, Ginny nodded. "I think so. She's a breakdown away from a rain cloud over her own head. Dean actually had a little typhoon over his on the last day before the holidays."

Hermione bit her bottom lip before saying, "The sorting hat was supposed to pair us with the person we are most compatible with. What if that happens to be the person who can hurt us the most? How's marriage supposed to work then?"

"I don't think Dean's capable of hurting Luna," she managed to say before taking a pause, brows furrowing together as she surveyed Hermione's face. "Why are you asking? Did Malfoy upset you?"

"No! I was just—" The rest of Hermione's explanation was interrupted by a gang of redheads trying to force their way into Ginny's small bedroom door at the same time.

Triumphantly, Bill forced his way in first. He cast a smug gaze at his brothers still pushing each other to get in, but when he turned them to Ginny they glittered instantly with tears. He had not realized his little sister had grown up; Bill knew her to be fierce, a force to be reckoned with, but Ginny had always been so. When she was a toddler, she would grip on to his finger, daring him to try and leave with his friends when all she wanted was to climb on his shoulders and chase the butterflies in their garden. When Bill left home, she had been angrier than their mum; a little girl, barely as tall as his knees who almost made him unpack his belongings and vow he would stay forever if she would just smile at him again. Bill did leave, but not before promising he would write to her every day. He still had those letters. And that was how Bill kept Ginny in his mind: his baby sister in every scribbled line on floral parchment, demanding to know every detail about his adventures as a cursebreaker.

Now the little girl in the letters was getting married.

When George broke past a wrestling Charlie and Ron, he entered the room with a grin that reached his eyes. It was real—all his happy, amused, teasing expressions were starting to become so. There were still shadows in his eyes as he looked to his left, searching for a constant companion that was waiting for him in a realm George was not able to reach yet, but he no longer dwelled too long in them. When his eyes found Ginny in her pretty, white dress, he remembered once more all the things he still had on this side of life. No matter how many times he wished he could find his brother, George knew Fred would have wanted him there. Both had made Ginny a promise: they would tear the mickey out of whatever git thought they were worthy of their little sister. Sure, they liked Harry, but a promise was a promise.

And Gred and Forge had never broken a promise to Ginny.

Once Charlie slammed Ron onto the floor, he entered the bedroom with his arms raised high, demanding praise (George clapped and Bill whistled). He had been about to take a bow, but he caught Ginny rolling her eyes at him. Like Bill, Charlie felt the weight of time crash down against his shoulders. He had not realized his little sister was no longer that—little. When Romania and dragons called Charlie straight out of Hogwarts, Ginny was still braiding flowers into crowns, putting on plays in the living room, and demanding to be taught how to properly ride a broom. Charlie was rough around the edges, always had been, but he had always been the one less inclined to put Ginny in any situation where she could get hurt. She would kick his ankles, did so plenty of times when she and their parents visited him in Romania and she wanted to pet one of the baby dragons, but he would never risk her. He promised to protect her forever.

She didn't need him to now; Ginny could protect herself better than he could.

While Ron failed to save face and rise up in a smooth action, Percy stepped over him as he pushed his horned-rimmed glasses back up against his face. He avoided looking at Ginny for a moment, his eyes scouting the room. He lingered on the old drawings on her walls; on rainy summer days, back before she and Ron were old enough to even go to Hogwarts, they would go to his room with parchment and crayons. Percy would always frown at the intrusion, but he would always end up closing whichever book he was reading to join them on the floor. They would spend hours drawing Newt Scamander's discovered beasts, the Gryffindor lion, or, Ginny's favorite, their family out in the garden when the weather was nice. Guilt for the things Percy had let go started to drown him inside out, but Ginny had reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers to bring him back to shore.

I need you to live, brother, she said once, taking a bottle of firewhiskey from his hands.

Once Ron managed to get himself back on his feet, there was a scowl on his face as he made his way in. His ire had been directed at his brothers, but it settled on Ginny when he saw her face. Who had given her the right to grow up? Who had allowed her to stop being the little girl always attached to his hand, both running from the twins' pranks, Percy's lectures, or their mum's bowls full of vegetables? When had they stopped climbing trees, breaking off branches to use as wands in order to play Aurors and Thieves? When had she stopped jumping on his back, pointing a finger forward and told him to charge toward victory? When had she stopped offering a pink teacup and a plastic tiara so he could join her and her dolls for a tea party? When had she stopped being his partner?

If he didn't get to be hers anymore, Ron was relieved it was Harry.

"Why are all of you here?" demanded Ginny, eyeing her brothers carefully as Hermione quietly left the bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Shouldn't you all be seated by now?"

"We made a quick stop to visit Harry," said George, with a smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Ginny glared. "What did you idiots do?" Charlie laughed loudly along with Ron. At their audacity, she let Percy's hand go to use both of hers to smack them. "If I walk down the aisle and Harry isn't there, I guarantee none of you will be leaving the Burrow with your lives. And I'd feel terribly sorry for you, Bill," she added in a hiss, directing a finger at her eldest brother when he starting laughing, too, "because I just started liking Fleur."

Bill latched on to her finger. "Oh, be nice, Ginevra. You wouldn't murder a bloke who's about to be a father, would you?"

The siblings turned to each other, sharing confused and suspicious looks as Bill reached into the pocket of his trousers. He pulled out a small scroll wrapped in a gold ribbon.

Ginny snatched it out of his hands, unrolling it.

It was a sonogram.

"Fleur's pregnant!" she shouted, eyes wide just as George took the picture from her hands.

"It's your wedding gift, Aunt Ginny," said Bill with a grin. "Well, not really. Fleur did have something come in from France, but I thought you'd like this better than antique goblets."

Ginny tried to keep tears from falling past her dark lashes, but her brothers were hardly containing theirs.

After their loss, the world was giving them another Weasley.

In the same way as when she was a little girl, Ginny launched herself at Bill's back. He laughed, hoisting her up as his other siblings rounded in on them, too.

In the midst of the chaos taking hold of the Burrow, no one noticed when the fireplace burned with emerald flames to welcome Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin. Upon being released from his grandmother's hand, Teddy did not wait to linger by the hearth. He tore away, shiny, new shoes covered in soot as he launched himself at the first person he saw.

"Mine-y," he greeted loudly, his arms around her knees as he looked up with a grin.

Quick to find her balance at the sudden hug, Hermione flicked her wrist, sending the flute of champagne she'd been carrying to the Weasleys' demanding Auntie Muriel. When her hands were free, she dusted off the ash in Teddy's blue hair before using a nonverbal to clean up his new suit.

"How could I forget a charm to repel the soot?" said Andromeda as she left the fireplace, waving her wand over herself to return her emerald dress back to its pristine state. "With all the fuss I made to get him ready, you'd think I'd remember to keep him clean."

"You do your best, Andy," replied Hermione with a smile. "Honestly, Ginny and Harry would have been perfectly okay if Teddy walked down the aisle in that footsie pajama he likes."

Andromeda bent to fix the little blazer on Teddy. "Yes, well, Ted would have loved that himself, but Pansy Parkinson stopped by this morning to make sure his suit had been delivered. I told her you personally delivered it the night before, but she said it was on her checklist."

Hermione sighed. "This wedding is being overrun by Slytherins, I'm afraid. Blaise Zabini, a classmate of ours, stopped by with a stylist to fix Harry's hair. They almost shaved his head when they realized it was a lost cause. Still, it's sticking up a little less than usual."

"About Slytherins," Andromeda started with a clearing of her throat, watching carefully as Teddy detached himself from Hermione's legs, "I was told this law paired you with my nephew Draco Malfoy."

"Draco!" squealed Teddy, pulling out a snitch from his pocket. "Nanny! Snitch!"

Andromeda smiled at her grandson, nodding to let him know she registered the winged ball that had instantly become his favorite toy.

In her place, Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She felt like she owed Andromeda an apology. She and Ginny had taken liberties that belonged solely to Andromeda—even if the woman had first agreed to send Teddy to Malfoy Manor when Hermione had been there a few days back. It was not up to Hermione and Ginny to decide when Andromeda was ready to forgive or not forgive her estranged sister and her family, or when it would be okay for Teddy to associate with those relatives.

"Are you all right?"

Hermione was startled by the soft-spoken question and the concern in Andromeda's eyes. "Yes. I think I really am," she told her with absolute sincerity. "Draco...he's trying his best. To live after the things he has done and to make sure I'm okay with having to marry him."

Silence fell between them for a moment. They watched George rush past them, his arm linked with a stunning Angelina Johnson. Then, Andromeda whispered, "And my sister?"

"I liked Mrs. Malfoy," said Hermione, attempting a reassuring smile. "And I think Teddy liked her, too."

"Teddy also likes the garden gnomes, so I wouldn't really trust his judgment." Hermione and Andromeda turned to the staircase; Harry was descending the last three steps before touching the floor. He was adjusting the sapphire cufflinks Blaise had insisted he wear (because he had heard a Muggle tradition called for something old, blue, and borrowed—no matter how many times Harry and Hermione had explained that only applied to brides).

When Hermione started frowning at him, Harry quickly added, "They were great with Teddy, Andromeda. Really. As someone who grew up with only the Dursleys, constantly wishing for more family, I can't say it wasn't comforting to know Teddy has them. I could tell it meant a lot to Mrs. Malfoy."

"It meant a lot to her and—"

"Draco!"

Hermione turned her body at the excited shout Teddy let out, pointing a finger at the fireplace burning emerald again. Her heart sprouted wings, thundering against the bones around it to try and fly where Draco and Narcissa Malfoy now stood. Her brain screamed at her feet to move, but Teddy sprinted to them before she could obey orders. He flung himself at Draco's knees, looking up at him with the same grin he had given Hermione before lifting his left, little fist, his snitch in hand.

The chaos that wrapped around the Burrow was invaded by a dominating silence when Andromeda and Narcissa's eyes met.

No one else claimed to know the history that bound the sisters, but Hermione was hoping that amid the bad memories, they were also remembering the good. She hoped they could see themselves as the Black sisters. Andy and Cissy: growing up loving one another, sharing secrets and dreams, sharing jokes and fears before blood purity forced them apart.

Hermione hoped they remembered what it was like to be family.

"Glad you could make it, Malfoy," said Harry, clearing his throat as the women continued to stare at each other, their faces completely masked of all emotion. "Was really worried you wouldn't."

Draco scoffed, but there was not too much dislike mixed in. "Yes, I can't imagine how you'd cope if I wasn't here." He did not step away from his mother, but he did cast silver eyes at Hermione. She could tell he was nervous about what was happening around them, but he still managed to say, "You look beautiful, Granger. Remind me to gift Weasley another bag of gold for putting you in silk again."

"Thanks," Hermione said, her cheeks turning pink, "It's blue."

Harry was torn between laughing or being uncomfortable when Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth, growing horrified at the embarrassing reply she'd given Draco.

Fortunately for her, Draco was distracted when Andromeda stepped forward, wrapping arms around his mother. It took Narcissa a few seconds to comprehend what had just occurred when she, too, embraced her sister.

"Harry! We're five minutes behind from—Oh!" cried Mrs. Weasley as she stormed into the living room from the kitchen, her eyes growing wide at the sight of Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy reuniting after decades. "Well, that's lovely."

"Quite," said Harry, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He flashed worried, emerald eyes between Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. "I should go stand in my place, right?"