Warnings: murder, bad language

Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing

A/N: Okay, I wrote an epilogue. Hope it seems reasonable, like the characters would really do this . . . If not, well, go write your own epilogue.

I’m a big fan of the comeuppance.

-holds sign that reads: Ninjas stole my confidence, need reviews to bolster self-esteem-

Epilogue

“15 sickles for half a kilogram of dragon liver! What the hell?”

Looking back on this, the redhead admitted that it was a very “Mom” thing to say. Still, there was nothing he could do to change it, and grudgingly shelled out the coins in exchange for the grimy organ. Brief civilities were exchanged with the shopkeeper, and then the Weasley boy stalked away, muttering about inflation and the dismal state of the economy.

He sat down at a table in front of Florean Fortescue’s to wait for the rest of his family. His mother had bullied him into coming along, telling him that he needed to help keep an eye on his younger brothers and sister, but she had then proceeded to haul the whole lot of them off with her, leaving him with no one to watch and nothing to do but the household shopping.

So now, here he was, sitting out in broad daylight with a paper bag of thawing dragon liver and a grumpy disposition.

He sat back to survey the bustling crowds. It was the only way he could while away the time until his mum and dad got back, and was actually quite interesting. He didn’t come here as much as he used to, because his work took him far from home. Holidays were the only time he ever got to see his family now, and even then it was a rarity.

As he looked past an attractive witch in a purple robe, pretending not to be interested, he caught sight of something that made his heart stop.

Broad shoulders. A dark suit. Slicked back hair.

The Weasley boy leapt up and was off before he even realized what he was doing. Fighting his way through the throng of merrily unconcerned shoppers, he strained to keep his prey within sight. The sun glinted off the man’s hair as he rounded the corner into Knockturn Alley, and his predator hurried to catch up.

As Weasley turned the corner, he nearly ran into the man he was tailing. Catching himself before he fell over completely, the redhead fixed his steely gaze on the man who had ruined everything.

“You . . . ” he managed to croak out. Admittedly, it wasn’t very menacing or even articulate, but it was he could think of at that moment.

X smiled patronizingly, and said,

“Yes? I assume you’ve something else to say?”

“Yeah,” Weasley replied, regaining his wits quickly. “There is something else.”

“Well, hurry it along,” X said calmly. “I have places to be, people to see . . . Things to do.”

“Oh, like murdering someone else?” the redhead said heatedly, taking a step towards the man. X’s face broke into an eerily unhinged grin, and he said,

“I prefer to call it fatal negotiating. Some people just aren’t that good at it . . . Like dear Miss Fitzpatrick.”

“You fucking bastard!” the Weasley said, losing control and taking a swing at X, who sidestepped it lightly.

“Violence will get you nowhere,” he tutted, and then suffered a well-placed blow to the face. He staggered backwards, holding his nose in an attempt to staunch the blood flow there.

“That’s high talk coming from you,” the redhead spat, enjoying the other man’s pain. “Tell me, what did you say to her before you pulled the trigger? What words of comfort did you give before you fucking murdered her? What the hell did she do to deserve it?” He punctuated this with another hit, and didn’t try to suppress the smile that rose when X landed on the ground with a sickening thump. “At least she didn’t cower in a corner somewhere, like you.”

X smiled again, more deranged than ever. He still hadn’t gotten up, but leered at the man standing over him, and said, almost as though he was reminiscing,

“She begged me not to do it, you know. I had her on her knees, begging me not to pull the trigger . . . I rather liked seeing her, and feel that I must commend you for your excellent taste in women, Weasley.”

The redhead kicked at him, landing his foot soundly in the other man’s gut. Even as he slumped over in pain, though, X managed to speak again.

“You probably want me to admit that I was wrong, don’t you? See the error of my ways, and all that shit. But you know what?”

“What?” the redhead spat, humoring the psychotic man.

“I enjoyed every fucking minute of it,” X said, blood now trickling from the corner of his mouth. It took every muscle he possessed to keep the Weasley boy from killing X right then. As the dark-suited man’s eyes rolled back in his head, relishing the memory, he continued, “She thought she’d won. Thought she was on top of the world, that little bitch. Planned her whole fucking life out, like she’d get to have everything she wanted after what she did to me, but I showed her . . . I showed her that nothing lasts forever.”

“Thank God for small wonders.”

The Weasley boy had his wand out before he knew what he was doing, and in the next second, he’d gotten his revenge. It was the only time he had ever used a Forbidden Curse, and the only time he ever would.

X’s form slumped over, cold and still, and the redhead couldn’t contain his glee.

He pocketed his wand, and walked away, trying his hardest to look inconspicuous. He heard screams coming from behind him, as people discovered the body, but he didn’t pause or even look back. No one stopped him, and before he knew it, he was back in the sunlight of Diagon Alley, striding back to his table at Fortescue’s.

It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As he greeted his family, all of whom had been concerned to come back to their table and find only a bag of soggy dragon liver, he couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. As they walked towards the Leaky Cauldron, Bill leaned over and asked him,

“What are you so smug about? Mum was going spare about you.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Charlie replied, and then added knowingly, “I think it’ll make your day.”