FIC: Why Ginny obviously didn't get a NEWT in Divination | Harry/Ron | PG | Epilogue Re-write
Title: Why Ginny obviously didn't get a NEWT in Divination
Author: auntee_mame
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Word Count: 2,400+
Warnings: Spoilers for DH.
A/N: I love JKR. I can still love her and want something different for my boys. Here's the way that I would've written the Epilogue. I wrote this for the harry_and_ron Deathly Hallows Slashy Epilogue Challenge, but I'm a dork and got my days all mixed up and missed the deadline.



Why Ginny obviously didn't get a NEWT in Divination

Harry looked inside the wardrobe and sighed. There were more boxes than he had remembered. One by one he took them out and if they weren't marked, he opened them and checked their contents, finding a lot of old Molly Weasley hand-knitted jumpers, scarves, and gloves. After they were all clearly marked, he stacked them against the door.

He found the last one, a large wooden rectangle box, against the back wall on the top shelf. He placed it on the bed. It wasn't marked, but he knew exactly what was inside. He flicked his wand at the antique brass lock, it snapped open and the lid lifted. He rubbed his nose tickled by the smell of old musty paper. The first letter he unfolded had faded over time, but Hagrid's writing was still visible. Harry sat on the bed reading it, barely able to recall what it had felt like being trapped at the Dursley's away from his friends for months.

He got lost in reading letter after letter, feeling pangs of mourning when people he'd lost were mentioned, and for Hedwig, who had faithfully delivered so many of his own replies. He'd had two owls since her death, but neither had meant as much as his first pet.

A voice bellowed from directly below him. "Brian James Potter-Weasley! I told you to clean that room! There are things growing in there that will eat the dog."

Harry heard a thud and he pictured his son's face growing red beneath the freckles spotting his cheeks and nose as he stomped his foot in protest.

"Dad, told me to straighten up the shed!"

Harry flinched. He had told Brian to clean the shed so that he could move the boxes into it, but Ron, trained by the best not to let his child get the better of him argued back, "Well, you're not doing either, are you? Who told you to play Exploding Snap? Don't answer that! Now get upstairs and clean that room!"

He heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and watched as his son walked by the door, his head low, muttering something to himself about life not being fair. Right on his heels was Thor, the large black and white long-haired mutt that Ron had found hanging around Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes three years ago and brought home.

"Bri!" Harry called out and his son stepped back into the doorway. "Da's nervous. Just help out please and I promise we'll all go flying tomorrow – okay?"

"It's a baby, Dad! A ba-by! He's not going to go know the difference if my room is clean or not."

Thor trotted in and rested his head on Harry's knee. He scratched behind his ears as he raised his eyebrows at his son. "He? What if the baby's a she?"

"No way! It's got to be a boy! I don’t want another sister! Mum's always making me play tea and dress-up with Kathleen when I stay with her. But it's worse here! It's so boring. I've just got to have someone to play with."

Brian's whining didn't bother Harry. He knew Brian's life was anything but boring and he had plenty of friends, both wizard and Muggle, to play with in Godric's Hollow.

"Either way, he or she, isn't going to be old enough to play with properly by the time you leave for Hogwarts in a few years."

"Well that's your fault for waiting so long." Brian said as he ran out of the room. Thor followed him, barking and yelping down the hallway.

Shaking his head, Harry smiled and pulled out the next letter and attempted to decipher Ron's twelve-year-old writing that he decided hadn't improved much in twenty-four years.

"Blimey, that kid is stubborn." Harry looked up and saw Ron entering the room, wearing jeans spotted with paint and a faded black Weird Sisters t-shirt that Harry had brought him over a decade ago.

"He's just nervous about the baby. Hermione said he's acting out – whatever that means."

Muttering something unintelligible, Ron looked around the room shaking his head. He really was nervous, Harry thought, though it wasn't as bad as when they'd waited for Hermione to bring Brian home to them.

"Are you sure you don't want to let Teddy sleep with Brian when he stays?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "I don't want him to think that this isn't his home and he's being pushed aside for the baby."

"He's of age. He's going to have his own home soon."

"I know. But he asked to stay for a bit when he leaves Hogwarts in June. Andromeda's been pressuring him to work at the Ministry, but he's been talking about going abroad and writing."

"Fine, but you're dealing with her when she goes bonkers because he's slacking off this summer." Ron approached the open box and looked inside. For the first time all day, Harry saw him smile. "You kept all of your letters?"

Ron started to look through them as Harry put the one he'd been reading back in. Harry froze when he saw Ron pick up one written on pale yellow paper. He was almost positive that it was the one letter that he did not want Ron to read.

He stood up and looked over Ron's shoulder and read the first line - 'Nineteen Years Later.' It was exactly the last thing he wanted Ron to read. He walked to the wardrobe, pretending to check it for more belongings and began preparing the speeches in his head that he'd given to Ron dozens of times, though not as often in the last ten years.

'You're not second best like always, Ron. It's you. It's always been you that I loved the most.'

'I love you, Ron. You. Not Ginny. She knew it. She knew that I couldn't bear to be separated from you and that's why she ended it. She knew that I'd figure it out someday and I did and I've never been happier.

Sometimes a simple tactic worked best.

You weren't the first, Ron, but you're the last. Isn't that what counts?

Or he could always go with the angry approach.

'You weren't exactly sitting at home pining away for me now, were you? You were with Hermione and after she – not you – figured out that you weren't right for each other, you were with all those other women and blokes that you fucked once and never saw again? At least I can say that I've never shagged another bloke but you!

That one usually ended with pleasurably rough and angry make-up sex, but Harry doubted they would have the time for that today, though the thought ignited a familiar boiling ache low in his belly. It'd been ages since they had had anything except rushed quiet sex and Harry wondered if Mrs Weasley would fancy a visit from her grandson, so they could have one night of unhurried, not-worried-about-Brian-coming-in-and-asking-for-a-glass-of-water-or-afraid-of-monsters-in-his-wardrobe sex before the baby came.

However he needed none of the usual arguments, because much to Harry's surprise, Ron laughed out loud as he folded the letter and put it back in the box.

"Blimey," Ron said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "When and why'd she write that?"

"She wrote it right after she went back to Hogwarts for her seventh year. I – um – I reckon she wrote it because she was seventeen and desperate to try to save what she knew was falling apart. She wrote that trying to… I don’t know what she was trying to do. Show me the future we could've had together, I reckon."

"She really didn't understand you though – did she? I mean, Severus! You'd never name your kid after that ugly git."

"Ron…" Harry said warningly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. He sacrificed himself and all, but he was still a right mean bastard, who did Merlin knows what to Muggles and Muggle-borns during Voldemort's first time around. And I've said it before, that whole being in love with your mum thing was more than a bit on the stalker side."

"That's enough, Ron."

"Fine, you've forgiven him and I'm grateful because I wouldn't have you. But would you name your kid after him?"

"No," Harry admitted. "And yes that story Ginny wrote did show me that she didn't really understand me."

"And what's up with Hugo and Rose?" Ron laughed. "Hermione'll get a chuckle out of that."

"Don't you dare tell Hermione about that letter and don't take the piss, Ron. She's your sister and the mother of our second child."

"Okay - okay." Ron laughed. "She did get Neville becoming a professor right though. Not that we all didn't see that coming."

"That's enough," Harry said, but he was half-laughing too. It was strange to remember his sister-in-law as a young teenage girl smitten with him. He knew deep down that Ron still worried she still held feelings for Harry, but Harry knew better. She was an adult now and totally in love with Neville, anyone could see that. And Harry was grateful that it was Neville she was married to; he didn't know too many blokes who would let his wife carry her ex-boyfriend's baby.

"Yet you didn't break-up with her after the letter." Ron grinned and took Harry's hand, playing idly with his fingers. "Remind me again why you two broke-up."

Harry sighed inwardly. He knew that it would come to him dishing out reassurance. He tugged Ron closer until they were chest-to-chest and he could wrap his arms around Ron's waist. "She was home for the Easter hols and asked me to get a flat with her after she left school and I panicked because I was blissfully happy living with you, so I blurted out, 'But what about Ron? Where will he live?' And she dumped me there and then and told me to grow a pair of bollocks and realize that I'm in love with her brother."

Ron beamed. "Stupid git," he whispered and kissed Harry tenderly. "You should've told me then."

"Speaking of that, Brian asked me how we did figure it all out and finally get together."

Looking horrified, Ron asked, "You didn't tell him – did you?"

"Of course not!"

Ron winked and leaned down to kiss Harry, this time longer and more passionately, until they heard Brian at the door of the bedroom, "Ew!! They're still in here and kissing again!"

They both chuckled and Harry rubbed his cheek against Ron's soft hair that smelt fiery and spicy just like the colour.

"Hey," said a voice casually.

Harry let go of Ron and turned around. The first thing he noticed was a head of purple hair that had been electric blue two days ago. "Hey, Teddy."

"Fred was just in his portrait. His mum sent him to tell you two that you'd better be working on painting the room because she's coming over in the morning for an inspection."

Brian ran by with his broomstick in his hand and Thor on his heels.

"Have you cleaned out your room yet?" Ron yelled.

"Yes!"

"Don't you dare get on that broomstick in this house!"

"I'm not! I'm going out –"

"Oh no you're not!" Ron shouted and stuck his head out the door. "It's freezing out there."

"But I'm bored!"

"Then clean out the shed!"

"That's boring too!"

"We'll never get anything done with him around," Ron said exasperatingly.

Remembering the ache and longing he'd felt a short while ago, Harry turned to Ron and asked, "If your mum's so keen on us finishing this, do you want to ask her to keep Brian at the Burrow for the night?"

Ron sighed and his shoulders relaxed. "Brilliant idea. We can get loads more stuff done if we're not chasing him around. We can –"

Harry leaned closer and whispered in Ron's ear exactly what he had planned for them to do. Ron blushed and grinned. His eyes flickered towards Teddy, who was still standing in the doorway, and Harry's followed. Harry smiled a shy apology for embarrassing the teenager.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Brian was right – ew! I was going to ask to spend the night, but not now."

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "You can stay if you –"

"No, no," Teddy said, shaking his head. "I'll move these boxes down to the shed before I go." He levitated two boxes and disappeared into the hallway.

"Bri!" Harry called out. "Come here a minute."

The sound of feet and paws bounding up the stairs echoed through the house until Brian and Thor showed up, both panting. "Y-y-yeah!"

"Do you want to stay at the Burrow tonight?"

Brian eyed Ron suspiciously and Harry had to bite back a laugh because he looked so much like Ron when he did that.

"Will Gran let Thor stay too?"

"I'll talk to her," Ron said. "I promise and if she insists that you can't, you don't have to go."

Brian threw his arms around Ron's waist and hugged him tight. "Thanks, Da. I love you." He turned and headed for the door, but Harry stopped him and asked, "What about me?"

"Love you too, Dad!" he shouted before sprinting back out the door.

"Now he loves us," Ron said, shrugging and beaming. "Mum's letting that dog in her house if I have to –" A crash from downstairs drowned out the end of Ron's sentence. "What the hell was that?" Ron roared.

"It wasn't me or Thor!" Brian replied.

"Sorry! It was me," Teddy called upstairs. "I tripped on the rug and knocked over a vase."

"I hope it was the one Dudley and his wife gave us for Christmas. That thing's hideous," Ron said. "Leave it, Teddy," he yelled. "I'll take care of it."

Harry watched him walk out before he closed the wooden lid over the stacks of letters and carried the box to the wardrobe in his and Ron's bedroom. He placed it on the top shelf next to the box containing mementos of Brian's infant years.

Halfway down the stairs, Thor rushed passed Harry, his fur now the same colour as Teddy's purple hair. "Look, Dad! Da, changed Thor's colour. He looks just like Teddy now."

Ron appeared at the foot of the steps, looking sheepish. "It was a compromise," he whispered. "He wanted his hair purple."

Harry smiled, remembering the last line of Ginny's story – 'All was well.' She'd certainly got that part right too.

The End