Early that morning

The Floo flared brightly and Voldemort looked up expectantly. The fight should have ended hours ago and yet no one had returned to report. He hated it when they were late reporting, and it didn't happen often, as he was quite liberal with showing his displeasure. A slight trickle of fear was beginning to worm its way into his mind, but he carefully schooled his features; he did not want to betray even the hint of fear to his followers. As the Floo cleared so that he could see who was coming through, the trickle became a deluge, and he had to grip the edges of his chair to keep himself in check. It would not due to display he emotions openly before his followers. Appearance was everything, after all.

Emmaline Vance's body preceded Severus out of the fire, her expression forever frozen in one of pure terror and her hair still slightly smoking with a putrid odour he could not identify, and her limbs were marred with an odd, red fern-like pattern. The portkey necklace he had given her in case of an emergency was melted around her neck, and he could see where it had seared into her flesh. Tom Riddle had never before seen a body that was burned to death with electricity. He very briefly thought that he had to find the spell that had done this, as it seemed useful and entertaining, but pushed this aside to consider later. Right now it was more important to discover what had happened to his new spy.

"Severus?" he spoke quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. "What is the meaning of this?" Around him he could see his followers shifting nervously; it was obvious that they were wondering why he hadn't immediately retaliated against the slippery Potions master for this affront. The last time a follower had returned to Voldemort's personal chamber with a body of his comrade had ended... messily. It was still being whispered about in the dungeons, as the few witnesses had been terrified into silence. But this time he let it go; Voldemort knew there was more at stake here than his followers' opinion of him.

Severus bowed his head in obeisance before speaking; it was an unusual gesture from the proud man and foretold the bad news to come. Voldemort was used to the Potions Master only showing the minimum amount of reverence and had always excused it due to the man's importance, he had even been heard to excuse it to his followers as being a sign of Snape's unfortunate parentage. "The ambush last night revealed the existence of a spy in the Order." Voldemort nodded. It had been a calculated risk going after the Muggle upstart to the throne of England, but the possible reward was too great to not make the attempt. "Dumbledore was reluctant to take any action besides expressing his displeasure, and he did not even suspect Emmaline as she had been injured, though minimally. He questioned me extensively but was finally convinced of my ignorance." He paused here and Voldemort nodded; that was precisely the reason that Severus had been kept in the dark; one could never fully trust a spy. "But then Harry Potter woke up."

He was unable to repress a sharp hiss of surprise and anger. "What! Potter did this?"

"Yes, my Lord. Dumbledore told me that Potter and his wife came to the battle, and Bella immediately engaged him in battle." He paused again, that battle had truly been something to behold. "When Charlie Weasley was killed and Potter heard his wife's cry of despair he seemed to explode with rage. Bella was shot through with so much electricity her body is no longer recognisable. Then the Potters created a tornado of fire that killed all of my Lord's followers." Voldemort's sharp intake of breath was the only evidence that he was surprised. So he had been deceived as to the boy's true power. Dumbledore must have had him hide the truth from everyone; it was a very Slytherin thing to do, and he grudgingly respected his former teacher; he had not thought Dumbledore capable of such cunning. "The overuse of his power must have caused Potter to collapse, and Dumbledore took everyone back to his headquarters. When Potter woke up he demanded an oath from everyone in the house that they had not been the betrayer. Only the phrasing of his question and my own ignorance spared my life. Emmaline was the last to be questioned and he did so behind closed doors. This was the result."

"Everyone else was killed?" That was quite a loss to his forces; and Bella alone was worth all the rest combined. She seemed to have underestimated Potter's anger on behalf of his wife.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Charlie Weasley was the only casualty among the Order?" Surely his followers could have done more damage than one measly dragon tamer? That was a pitiful showing.

"Yes. Though both Potters were injured, they seem fine now and are not displaying any ill effects besides grief."

"Is it debilitating?" He had to forcefully keep the plea out of his voice; please let something worthwhile have come of this.

"I would almost say it was galvanizing."

There was utter stillness in the room for almost an hour as Voldemort thought and schemed. His followers shifted restlessly, afraid to leave but terrified to stay. None of them had seen their Lord in such a mood before and the unknown was always a terrible risk when it came to Voldemort. He was not one to take the unexpected well. Finally, he spoke again. "What are Potter's plans now?"

"He intends to attend the funeral this afternoon, and then he mentioned taking his wife away in the morning to give her a break."

"Just the two of them alone?" This had possibilities, but it stunk of a trap.

"Yes."

The arrogance of the boy astounded him. "Where?"

"I only know that he promised Dumbledore they would not be far. I got the impression that he had a spot near the castle in mind but I am unaware of the actual location. He was extremely distrustful and would tell no one." Well, this was more promising. If it were a trap surely he would have made sure that Severus was able to discover the location. He sneered as he recalled that Potter was blinded by sentimentality and would care more for the emotional stability of his wife than ending the war this soon after the death of her brother. Those who loved were so predictable and it was always their downfall.

"Very well. Leave me now." This would take careful planning, and he much preferred to do so alone. The sycophants could be so exhausting at times.

His followers hurried out of the room, grateful for the unexpected reprieve from Voldemort's wrath, leaving him alone in the room with the body of his spy. He stared at it in anger, allowing the sight to stoke the flames that were bubbling forth inside him. Revenge was a powerful motivator, as he had discovered when he was merely a boy. Potter would pay.

I was sick of this. Just like the discussion about raiding Gringotts everyone seemed to have an opinion and they all were convinced their opinions were right and important. Worse, they weren't evening listening to each other, just shouting louder and louder, determined to be heard. This time, however, I was not going to stand for it; this was my war and my fight, and it was high time everyone acknowledged that fact. Also, I really wanted to avoid the lecture afterwards. Anyone trying to keep me away from my Ginny so as to yell at me would be in for a harsh surprise.

"Be Quiet!"

I received several glares and a few patronising looks that really annoyed me. Mrs. Weasley even patted me on the arm before smiling and saying, "Let us deal with this, dear."

My annoyance caused electricity to spark out of my body. Several large sparks hit the floor causing everyone to jump and look at me in shock.

"Quiet." This time they obeyed, terror evident in many of their eyes. They had seen what I had done to the traitor. "I appreciate your willingness to fight, but this is my decision."

A cacophony of noise erupted around me, and I growled under my breath. It was Dumbledore stepping in that prevented my loss of control.

"Harry is right. He will choose who will stand at his back; he has earned this right." He turned to me and gave a nod.

"Thank you, sir." I turned back to the room. "This will only work with a minimal and battle-ready presence. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Kingsley, Tonks, Remus, and Bill will be the first line of defence. Moody, Mr. Weasley, Jones, Fred, George, Tellering, Stephens, and Curtison will be the second line. And no one will leave this room without an oath of secrecy to me." I turned to see the crestfallen expression on Mrs. Weasley's face. "The rest of you I would like in readiness for the clean-up afterwards. I'm sure we'll need the help then."

There were murmurs throughout the room, and looks of outright fear were being passed back and forth with the murmurs. Rabastan had just come in to inform them the Master had requested all of their attendance in the throne room in ten minutes; as he was leaving the room he had let slip that the Master was going after Harry Potter and everyone would be accompanying him.

He left behind a terror-filled room.

They had all heard the rumours. Every fight that Potter had shown up at had been a devastating loss. He had left no one alive since receiving his powers this summer, and none of them fancied going up against those odds.

As the time slowly advanced despite overwhelming hope in the room for it to somehow stand still, they gradually made their way to their Lord's presence, each of them trying valiantly to hide their fear. As the Dark Lord looked around at his reluctant troops, it was clear they had not succeeded. The bravest were able to hide everything but the terror in their eyes, but most were visibly shaking at what they knew was coming. None of them expected to return in anything other than a body bag today. It was finally dawning on them just what they had sacrificed for the bit of power that their Lord was willing to share. Suddenly it no longer seemed worth it.

"I am surrounded by terror-filled idiots," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes boring straight to the heart of their fears. "You all believe in the power of the Chosen One. Do you honestly think that it was Potter, and Potter alone that caused our recent losses? Fools! Potter is weak! You forget that I have fought him twice and both times it was not his own prowess that saved his life—no, he ran away once and hid behind Dumbledore's robes only months ago. He is a coward. Bellatrix, despite her sacrifice, proved that he was not invincible. So we must strike while the iron is hot, while his will is weak! It may seem like Potter is invincible, but we know that he has always had help in his fights and has only won by association." Despite the fact that this contradicted everything they had heard about Potter, they all desperately wanted to believe this. Yes, it was not Potter that had been responsible for some many losses of their friends and allies; it was mostly down to those that helped him constantly. Potter was only lucky. "His blood traitor wife will be useless with the death of her brother, and Potter will be distracted protecting her, and they will be alone. Do you think one mere boy can stand against Lord Voldemort and his finest?" They conveniently ignored the fact that most of the best fighters were already dead at Potter's hands. "I say no! He will be alone and weak, and we will wipe this menace from our land. And with Potter's death the will of the resistance will crumble. We will rule unopposed and finally receive our due in power, wealth, and influence." He looked around at his men, now standing tall in determination. "Today, Potter dies!"

A loud cheer erupted, causing the large snake that rested across Voldemort's throne to hiss in displeasure. It was only when Voldemort dismissed his servants and was left alone that his own terror became visible in his red eyes.

This was his final gambit and he knew it. Either he or Potter would not survive the day, and the Prophecy would be fulfilled.

It was peaceful here and that was why I chose this place. We could see the Castle far across the lake, but it was far enough to give us privacy; we were just within the edge of the wards, a good hour walk around the lake. We had a picnic spread out before us, but it was mostly for show.

I was ready to end this, and I hoped the target Ginny and I presented was irresistible. There were currently about ten wind elementals, little sylph maidens, spread out keeping a lookout. In the bright sunshine it was nearly impossible to see them, especially to one who was not expecting them. Very few people knew where we were and what we were up to today, and every one of them was under a Vow. Even our friends were completely in the dark, something I fully expected to pay dearly for after this was over. Hermione, especially, would not appreciate being left out of the plan. But they would only have been a liability for my plan. I didn't want to have to worry about hurting friendlies today.

It was really quite simple. Lure Voldemort here, trap him and his followers with a perimeter of battle-ready Order members, and then Ginny and I would unleash the elements. Now we were only waiting to see if Voldemort would cooperate.

In the meantime, I was going to kiss my wife; it seemed like a good use of my time. Ginny was sitting in my lap, her small hands woven throughout my hair and making a thorough mess of it. She pulled away slightly and blinked open her brown eyes.

"I love you, Harry."

I kissed her again before nuzzling my face into her neck, my hands creeping under the back of her shirt. If all went according to plan, I knew I would need the contact to get me through this.

"Promise me it will be okay."

"It has to, love. And we will be able to really start our life together. I can't wait."

She gave a small nod as fire trailed down her cheeks. With a sharp tug I pulled her to rest against my chest. For a long time I just held her as she cried, but eventually she calmed in my arms. The sun was getting high in the sky when a small disturbance in the air drew my attention.

"Master," the ethereal being whispered. "There is a large snake circling you."

"Thank you, we'll take care of it."

I let the wind stir around me until I found the disturbance. Without even dislodging my wife, a bolt left my hand. Nagini screamed when it hit her, and her head reared back in agony. Slowly, I increased the power of each successive bolt until her shriek cut off abruptly; another voice replaced hers briefly, but it, too, died out.

Ginny lifted her head from my chest, her grin nearly feral, before she attacked my mouth. If that was how she wanted to celebrate the destruction of Voldemort's last Horcrux, who was I to argue with her? I was totally lost in her when an insistent cough pulled at my attention. I turned, panting, to see another sylph grinning cheekily at me. Little buggers always got a kick out of catching Ginny and I in an intimate moment.

"Master's enemy approaches. He brings many with him."

"Thank you." I had expected nothing less, and we were ready for this. It was time to end the fighting and the prejudice and the best way to do this was to dispose of them all. This time, no one would be able to buy there way back to respectability.

Ginny and I quickly stood, opening our picnic basket and quickly donning our dragonhide that was stowed inside. When we were fully dressed, a quick wave of my wand shrunk the rest of our things, and I deposited them in my pocket. And then we waited; it would not be long now.

I heard him before I saw him, his low chuckle as he found us seemingly alone and unprotected echoed across the clearing. With a smirk, I sent a gust to pick up the dead body of Nagini and shot it straight into the air. His chuckle cut off when he saw her. I get the feeling that the snake was the only being he had ever really cared about. I wonder if he would miss her, but then dismissed the thought; he would not live long enough to grieve, even if he could.

"Hello, Tom. I believe you misplaced this."

"Potter... You continue to be a nuisance. You will pay for her death."

"Perhaps you should be more careful with your things, Tom. You never know when someone will find them and get rid of them."

His red eyes narrowed to slits. "Foolish boy! You think you can win? Do you believe that two alone, no matter what tricks you possess, can stand against my army and myself? You will fall without Dumbledore's protection."

I laughed. With a brief glance at Ginny to see her nod, we were both airborne.

Tom forgot that there were no survivors from our last fight with his Death Eaters, and so he had no real knowledge of what we could do. Simultaneously, three tornadoes snaked down from the sky. With a gesture, Ginny lit them on fire and their destruction began. I was barely able to spare a glance as Tom's army began to run for their lives, for all my attention was taken up by deflecting his retaliatory strike against my wife.

He seemed to think that if he were to take her out I would fall. He was right, but I had no intention of letting that happen. The wind and I were ready for him, and each of his spells was deflected away, many of them finding purchase in his fleeing men. Finally, his spells stopped, as he seemed to be considering how to best get a spell to actually hit me.

With a final glance at Ginny, I put our plan into action. Gathering up as much energy as I could, I built a fifth and larger storm around Voldemort and me; it was more a miniature hurricane than a tornado, and we were standing in the calm of the eye. His momentary distraction as he looked around in surprise was enough for Ginny, safe on the outside of the storm where the wind had whisked her when Voldemort was distracted, to set Fiendfyre lose. Hungrily, it swirled around the wind, twisting and turning as it looked for victims. Voldemort turned all his efforts towards suppressing it and completely ignored me.

He seemed confused when he could not put it out, and I imagine that he was used to having complete mastery over every aspect of the so-called Dark Arts, but he had never gone up against my Ginny's fire. As an elementalist, she commanded a force that only another elementalist had a chance of manipulating. Carefully, I pulled the storm in, narrowing the eye until it was barely a foot across. Voldemort was trapped by the force of the storm; the wind held him in place as the fire ate away at his body. It seemed to grow stronger as it did, so maybe the Dark Magic holding Voldemort together fed the hungry flames.

I wasn't entirely surprised to see the same spirit that accosted me at the end of first year rise from his ashes. The fire seemed not to harm him in this form, but I was ready for that possibility. Raising both hands to the sky, I called lightning into my own body. Steadily, it built up until electricity was sparking out of me in every direction. Finally, I lowered my hands and released the full force of it at the shade before me. When it connected, the world seemed to explode in a lighting storm, and I knew no more.

As the first of the fleeing Death Eaters came into view of the waiting Order members, Remus Lupin realised he was about to be in the fight of his life. Running towards him, a sick smile or recognition on his face as he sniffed the air, was the monster that had cursed him as a small child. Steeling himself and sending up a silent plea for Tonks at his side, Remus brought his wand to bear.

Greyback did not pause for taunts; he simply started raining curses down on the one child he was most disappointed in. Remus had never fully accepted the wolf inside, and so he was weak, held back by his human mind. It would be his downfall. Ignoring the curses that the pup was sending his way, Greyback charged, intending to finish this with his bare hands and teeth.

Intent on his charge, Greyback missed the gleam followed by a flash of pain in Remus' eyes. It wasn't until Remus' hand impacted his chest and he felt the thin piece of metal penetrate between two of his ribs and reach his heart that he realised his error. Greyback looked down in shock and briefly noted the burn covering Remus' hand before his surprised eyes found the smoking hole in his own chest and noticed the needle thin protuberance from that same hole.

Silver.

Jason Travers knew he had made a mistake. In his twenty-one years he had made many of them, but this one took the Quaffle. If he made it out of this alive, which was looking doubtful, he swore to never again align himself with anyone who promised power and gold—for it simply wasn't worth it.

Of course, he reached this decision as he was fleeing for his life from the scariest bloody thing he had ever seen. The Dark Lord had told him that Potter only had the capabilities to take out one at a time with his lightning bolts—but those cyclones of fire that were chasing him were engulfing people left, right, and centre. Anything that could do that scared him senseless. And so he ran.

What he hadn't counted on were the spells that started to rain down upon him from invisible foes. As a pair of enraged tigers sprang at him from either side, seemingly appearing out of thin air, his last thought was berating himself for ever choosing to follow the idiot who had branded him like cattle.

Albus Dumbledore had never been prouder in his life. At this distance, he could barely make out the large storms Harry had conjured, but the power displayed awed him. As the swirling cyclones of fire devoured all in their path, he raised his wand to the ready. The Death Eaters were running, trying desperately to reach the edge of the wards before they were caught by the chasing storms. He hoped the few defenders that Harry had allowed to be here would be enough. Minerva, Remus, and Tonks were to his right, with Filius, Kingsley, and Bill on his left. The rest were a hundred paces behind them, providing a second line of defence.

The fight was suddenly upon them, and was ferocious on a level he had never seen before—this time, the Death Eaters were fighting for their lives; not one of them thought they or their Lord would survive the storm behind them.

Ice shot through Albus' heart as a piercing scream cut through the air, but before he could locate the source a huge explosion sent a rush of energy racing across the landscape, knocking him and everyone around him to the ground.

Minerva McGonagall slowly pulled herself off of the ground groaning in pain the whole time; she just was getting to old for this. She glanced to her right and frowned at the sight of Remus' wound that Nymphadora was frantically treating. That was a silver burn. She turned to the other direction to see Bill helping Albus to his feet while Kingsley tended to Filius. She blanched at the look on the Auror's face, and then blinked back a flood of tears as Kingsley met her eyes and gravely shook his head. Then she anxiously turned her head towards her cubs' location. A healthy breeze was still blowing debris around, but the enormous storms had subsided, and only smoke was left of the flames.

"Minerva?" She turned to Albus, his age showing in every line of his face. "Would you check, please?"

With a sharp nod, she transformed and was off. It had always been the plan that she would be the scout, as the combination of the tall grass and her small form provided some cover as she moved. She passed the smoking forms of numerous downed Death Eaters as she ran. As she reached the edge of the lake, she had to skirt around smouldering pieces of ground until she reached a large crater. Peering cautiously over the edge, her fur standing on end from the charge lingering in the air, she saw a blackened mess and her heart clenched until a flash of red caught her eye. Injured and weaving in exhaustion, Ginny Potter climbed over the edge of the crater and instantly zeroed in on the buried form of her husband.

Quickly, Minerva transformed and hurried down to help. When she reached his side and heard his harsh breathing she closed her eyes in thanks and then brought her wand up, sending a burst of gold into the air. She could hear the cheers from her fellow fighters as it lit the sky.

Far above the battlefield, the ethereal sylphs were dancing with joy around a beautiful white bird as they celebrated their Master's victory. Their dance was interrupted when the bird screeched and dived towards the earth. When she came back up, her talons were clutched around a tatty grey rat. She hooted in pleasure at her catch; she would leave it for her Master to see once he recovered. She knew he would be pleased. But for now she was going to enjoy watching the wind daughters dance around the golden sparks the cat lady had launched into the air in celebration of her Master's triumph. They were silly things sometimes.

I woke up in a familiar room, having spent much of the previous summer confined to it. The pleasant tingle spreading through my chest and arms told me before I even looked down that I was holding my wife in my arms. The gentle movement of her fingers as she drew on my chest let me know she was awake. To be honest, I was simply thankful that we were both alive. The pain that I could easily recall shooting through my body was only a memory now, but I distinctly remember wishing to die and hoping that Ginny would be protected and happy without me. I have no idea if our plan even worked, or if Voldemort had found another way to cling to this life. All I know is that I was tired, and deep in my bones I knew that I was done fighting. I wanted to simply focus on making the woman in my arms radiantly happy. I tightened my hold on her in anticipation.

With a brilliant smile, she lifted her head. "Harry."

Before I had time to blink we were engulfed in a raging inferno and she was kissing me.

By the time my higher brain functions returned I had no idea how many times we had loved, only that I was unquestionably the luckiest bloke on earth. It took me a minute to remember what had proceeded this glorious day. "Is he gone?"

She gently brushed my hair off my face. "Yes, love. He can't hurt you anymore."

I closed my eyes in relief. Scared to see her face as I asked my next question, I kept them that way. "Did we lose anyone?"

Her hands faltered in their caress and I knew the answer. "Professor Flitwick didn't make it through the night after the battle. Remus has a severe silver burn and the Healers are concerned that he may never regain full use of that hand, but he claims it was a small price to pay for bringing down Greyback."

I had to swallow before I was able to speak. "Anyone else?"

"No, love."

Finally, my eyes opened to see her large brown ones swimming with tears before me. "Did we get them all?"

She nodded. "Destroying Voldemort sent a blast so strong it knocked everyone to the ground; most of the Death Eaters never got back up again." A large grin lit her face. "And Hedwig has a present for you. She's refused to let anyone near, waiting for you to wake up." My brows scrunched in confusion. "Apparently, he thought that he could escape, and wasn't counting on Hedwig's sharp eyes watching out for a rat."

Ginny's snigger set off my own laugh. I think I was going to have to look into a really nice perch for my faithful owl.

Four Years Later

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Defeater-of-Voldemort, cowered back in fear. For a moment, he forgot that Ginny's fire could not hurt him, and he was terrified. Her fire had devastated the kitchen, the dinner that had sparked her ire had been completely obliterated and only a smoking hole left in its wake. Despite the numerous warnings he had been given, she had shocked him to the core. He had watched as Fleur and Tonks had blasted their way through their pregnancies, laughing hysterically while their husbands endured their ire.

He supposed he should have been expecting Ginny's temper to be even worse.

By the time he got her to calm down, the kitchen was rubble around them and his clothing was non-existent. When Ginny finally looked around at what she had done, she collapsed against him in tears and poor Harry was so confused he could do no more than hold her and try and stop her tears. Stealthily, his right hand crept down until it rested on the small bulge at her waist where his child lay. He was still in awe, and could hardly wait to be able to hold his child in his arms.

Though, based on today, they might want to rethink having the baby at St. Mungo's. The hospital may not survive if Ginny gave birth in its walls. Maybe the Headmaster would let them use their special room at the castle. It might be safer if Ginny's magic was dampened. Harry had the horrible thought that if it wasn't he would have to deliver his own child as no one else would be safe in Ginny's presence during the ordeal.

A bedraggled Harry Potter emerged in a hastily conjured robe, clutching a squirming infant tightly to his chest. A small tendril of smoke was curling up from his charred hair, and soot was streaked across his arms and face. He beamed around at his eagerly waiting friends and family, and held up the babe for their inspection.

"James Sirius Potter!"

A cheer went up around the room and the baby was snatched from his arms by a gaggle of females. A firm yet scarred hand took his elbow and guided him over to a chair.

"How's Ginny?" Remus asked softly.

"Asleep, thankfully. She's exhausted." He dragged a weary hand through his hair. "The entire room was aflame through the last little bit, and I'm just thankful Madam Pomfrey taught me enough to do this on my own." He looked up into Remus' sympathetic eyes. "I've never seen Fiendfyre so hot."

"She lit the room with Fiendfyre?" Remus asked in shock.

"Yeah. It's a good thing James seems to be as immune as I am," he paused and touched his charred hair. "Though I wasn't completely spared this time."

Remus chuckled. "Did anything else unusual happen?"

"Oh, you mean besides James dousing the room with water?"

"Ginny, dear, can I come through?"

Ginny turned around to smile at her mother. "Of course, Mum."

Molly Weasley bustled through the fire and immediately gathered her daughter in a tight hug. She pulled back and eyed her daughter carefully. "You are looking very well, Ginny."

The younger woman smiled. "I'm almost back to myself, I think. Harry will be relieved when I allow him to start cooking desserts again."

"Are you sure he is fine doing all the cooking, dear?"

"Oh, he insists. Besides, he's almost as good a cook as you are. My efforts don't even come close and the last time I tried I destroyed the kitchen. He is a little hesitant to let me try again, even though I told him it was just pregnancy hormones."

"Hmm. Now where is that adorable grandson of mine?"

Ginny smiled, impressed that her mother was able to wait so long to ask for him. "He's in his nursery."

"Oh, napping?"

"No, it's his play time right now."

"Ginevra Molly Potter! You left that baby alone? What were you thinking child? He could hurt himself or..."

"Mum! He's got the best possible guardians. He absolutely loves it when they watch him."

Molly eyed her daughter sceptically as she followed her down the hall. She was relieved to hear the happy sounds of baby giggles filtering into the hall. When she opened the door, Molly stopped in shock. The room was full of dancing little beings of fire. They were playing an elaborate game of peek-a-book with baby James.

Ginny smiled. "We have a crowd of them here every morning begging to help with James. They simply adore him."

Seven Years Later

Harry Potter sat contentedly on the porch, watching his children play in the yard. Seven year old James was playing a game of tag with several fire elementals—he scored a point every time he hit them with a small jet of water. Albus (Al) William, at five years old, was a much quieter child. He was playing in his little garden, building rock castles and miniature forests. As Harry watched, Al dug his hand deep into the earth and it rippled around him as it rose to form an intricate wall around him. They had given him the little dirt and rock plot as his own two years ago to keep him from destroying the rest of the yard in his play. He turned with a smile to look at the apples of his eye. His two year old twins Lily Hermione and Guinevere (Gwen) Molly were toddling unsteadily around the yard. Lily had fire running through her red hair, and looked so much like her mother, though with her father's green eyes. His little Gwen was her sister's opposite in looks, though they both had similar temperaments. Her excitement was obvious in the steady wind that was causing a mess in her bouncing black curls.

Each one of his children had manifested their elemental affinity within moments of their birth. None of them were full elementalists. They did not have the control he and Ginny did or many of the abilities, but their accidental magic almost always favoured their element.

As he watched them play happily in the yard, Harry Potter did not think he could be happier. His life was perfect at the moment, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took. In addition to computer issues (new computer only two weeks ago that allowed me to finish this) I just had trouble getting what I wanted out of it. But it is definitely complete now. I intend to work on some of my as yet unpublished works for a bit (I am firmly of the opinion that I should never again start posting something until it is complete). I have a short Harry/Daphne in the works, a Harry/Tonks, and a Harry/Hermione. I am also toying with the idea of a prequel to My Slytherin Harry from Harry's POV.

I hope you all enjoyed my little story.