A/N: Do the epilogue dance! Last chapter - thank you to everyone who has read this story! By the way, I may be writing a sequel focusing on the next generation. We shall see. R&R, if thou pleasest. And if you ever feel alone and without a Fred Weasley, just know that the Fred Weasley Death Denial Support Group will be there for you.

Eleven Years Later

"Mum, what if I can't get through?"

"Gideon, you'll get through. You're a wizard, and wizards can do anything."

"What about me?"

"You too, Bree."

"Wait...I'm not a wizard!"

"No, just a witch. Not as good."


"Alright. I'm sorry. Come on, Bree, we'll do it together."

Katrina, now twenty-eight years old, smiled at her twins. "You two go ahead. I'll follow."

Bree, outgoing as always, ran into the pillar at full speed, disappearing. Gideon, slightly more cautious, jogged at a steady face and followed his red-headed sister into Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Katrina glanced around, taking in the sights of King's Cross Station. A sense of heavy nostalgia filled her. Fred would have loved to see his children grow up.

Sweet, reckless Bree. Innocent, witty Gideon. Barely knowing, and hardly caring, that their mother was only seventeen years older than them. Katrina had been so young to become a mother, but her family and friends had been there all the way for her. She supported herself on her job as a well-recognized Magizoologist in the Ministry of Magic, second only to Rolf Scamander, who headed the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The three of them lived fifteen or twenty miles or so away from Diagon Alley, in a small cottage in the suburbs not dissimilar from the one she and Fred had spent that fateful weekend in all those years ago. She had refused any offers of money Mrs and Mr Weasley had attempted to get her to take, knowing that she herself earned more than Arthur. Bree and Gideon loved their grandparents, aunts and uncles, though.

'Uncle Georgie and Aunt 'Gelina', as they were known, came round once or twice a week with their nine year old son Fred and seven year old daughter Roxanne. The twins loved playing with their cousins and developed close bonds with them as they zoomed around the apple orchard down the street on small toy broomsticks, under the close eye of the three parents. It should have been four. But it was three.

Fred, wherever you are right now, I hope you can see Bree and Gideon, and be proud of them. Bree's said she would mail me the Hogwarts House Cup once she's stolen it - it sounds so much like you. Of course, she's had to promise not to steal it, but to win it fair and square. Gideon's going to be top in many of his classes, I know it - even if he's in Slytherin - he had his nose stuck in Hogwarts - A History all the car ride over here. Whichever House our twins are in, I know they'll do us proud. I miss you, Fred, and I love you.

Katrina took a breath, brushed a strand of sleek brown hair behind her ear, and disappeared into the pillar, smiling sadly, yet a touch wolfishly, as she went.