Epilogue - 1

The September sun shone brightly over the rolling meadow that lay behind the Burrow. Harry leisurely walked across a well-used path, inhaling the crisp autumn scents and pointing out the changing colors of the leaves to the infant he carried in his arms. It had been a little over four years since Voldemort's defeat, and Harry still hadn't got over the wonder of being able to go outside alone, unhindered and without fear of constant attack.

Ginny often teased him about his continued habit of keeping his wand in his back pocket or within easy reach at all times. Even four years later, she still had to be careful not to startle him when entering a room. All in all, though, he was finally becoming comfortable in his own skin. He could even tolerate the reporters who, after four years, still asked for his opinion on current events.

He'd gone back to school that first autumn after Voldemort's demise. He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had had their carefree year – well, carefree for all save Hermione, who fretted continuously over the upcoming NEWTs. Harry had done well on his exams despite Hermione's predictions of doom and gloom as a result of his deplorable revising habits. He acknowledged that he could have been a better student, but at the time, he was having too much fun to worry about it. He'd already had a lifetime of worry.

When they'd finished school, he and Ron had immediately joined the Ministry and began their Auror training. After everything they'd done during the war, they were able to complete their education in two years rather than three, and they'd begun work straightaway.

At first, they'd been assigned separate partners. Their Academy instructor had insisted that rookies needed to be paired with older, more experienced veterans. That had lasted for about three months before their transfer papers arrived, signed by none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt. Kingsley had insisted that strict adherence to the Ministry's old policies was what had got them all into trouble in the first place. If something worked – don't fix it. Ron and Harry had been partnered ever since.

Hermione had gone into training to become a Healer. She'd only recently finished her schooling and was apprenticing under a fully-qualified Healer at St. Mungo's. Ginny had gone to work at the Ministry for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. Her training had only taken a year, so she was actually the first of the four to get out and work, earning her own wages.

After the war had ended, there had been a mad rush of weddings and babies. Mrs. Weasley said it had happened after the first war, too. People just wanted to celebrate the good things in life. The first of Harry's friends to get married had been Neville Longbottom, of all people. He and Susan Bones had both worked in the Apothecary in Diagon Alley after Hogwarts had closed, and romance blossomed soon after.

Seamus Finnegan and Demelza Robbins were next, followed by Lavender Brown and Oliver Wood. Oddly enough, it was this spate of weddings and all of their friends marrying young that turned Hermione off the idea. Although Ron would have married her right out of school, Hermione wanted to wait until the furor over the end of the war had died down. She didn't want to be accused of having it influence her decision.

Harry'd had no such qualms. He had asked Ginny to marry him on the Hogwarts grounds during their last day at the castle. She'd accepted, and they were married only a few months later on the first of September. That day had always been one that Harry had counted down to reach, so he wanted something to always mark the significance. He was proud to say that September the first had dramatically changed his life for the better on two separate occasions.