Epilogue - 2

He'd thought he and Ginny would have a small wedding right at the Burrow surrounded by the Weasley family and a few close friends. Mrs. Weasley and the Wizarding world had other ideas. They'd ended up getting married at Hogwarts in a morning ceremony before the students had arrived.

Harry had gritted his teeth and borne the fussing and fawning because he knew he was the one who won in the end. He got to be married to Ginny, and he'd never regretted that decision. Using the money Sirius had left him, they'd bought a very private, secluded bit of land not too far from Ottery St. Catchpole – but not too close, either. They'd built their own house – one with plenty of land for a Quidditch pitch – decorated and furnished the house together, and four months ago, their son, James Harry Potter had been born.

Harry chuckled, remembering how desperately Ginny had wanted a son. Weasleys always had sons, but her brothers liked to tease her that since she was the girl, she'd have girls. Of course, that only made Ginny determined to prove them wrong. Harry had watched her stick her nose in the air, and her eyes narrowed with that 'I-can-do-anything-you-can-do' attitude that he loved so much about her. He knew that technically the sex of the baby was determined by him, but he'd never doubt Ginny's will. He was certain that their next child would be a girl simply so Ginny could prove to her brothers that she could also do what they couldn't.

Harry didn't care. He was just happy to see his family growing rather than shrinking for a change. He'd told Ginny he didn't care if they had two children or twenty, he just wanted James to have a sibling so he'd never be alone. Ginny had stroked his cheek fondly while insisting it wouldn't be twenty.

Although Ginny had bought the very best pram – according to Mothering Witches – Harry still preferred carrying his son when they went for a stroll. They had plenty of money to live comfortably, but Ginny was still a rather frugal girl. Frugal about everything – except when it came to her son, that is. For him, nothing but the best would do – and Ginny was convinced he needed everything they advertised. Every time she read one of those endless Wizarding parenting magazines, she'd fret that she was somehow doing something wrong because James didn't have some new-fangled contraption.

Harry really didn't care what she bought, or whether they ever used it, as long as it made Ginny happy. She'd given him the best gift in the world, and each day he was surprised to learn something new about his little miracle. He might have missed doing all those father and son things as a child, but he'd be damned certain he got to do them as a father. He'd dressed the little tyke in gray track suit pants with a red hooded sweatshirt and brought him outside for a bit of fresh air. The Burrow felt rather stuffy with all the chattering ladies inside.

The reason for all the chattering ladies was the long-awaited, approaching nuptials of Ron and Hermione. They were due to marry the following day in a Muggle church near Hermione's family home. Harry and Ginny were standing up as witnesses, and it was their job to get the bride and groom to the church on time.

Harry thought he had the easy end of that deal. Ron had been ready for this moment for ages – it was Hermione who was the nervous wreck. Poor Ginny really had her hands full there. Hermione had been throwing wobblies over inane little details for weeks. She'd always been a bit mental, and Harry thought weddings made all women go mad.