“You know, when we were kids, and you and I didn’t talk, I never felt jealous of Ron and Hermione for being your friends”, Lyra told Harry as they lay together in bed that night. “I was frustrated that I was not the fourth person in the group. I was frustrated that they are your friends while I wasn’t. I was locked out, and most of it was my own fault for insulting your friends in your face, as if any normal person would do that and expect anything different to happen. But I felt the injustice of it all, of not being allowed to make amends and break through to you any more. I never wished Ron or Hermione to go away so that I could take their place with you. I didn’t want their place; I wanted my own. I wanted you to want me, as me. I was afraid of Hermione, because she could have easily ruined me. I felt she could easily take you, because she was a trusted friend and I was an enemy. She could tell you things against me and I would lose any chance with you, forever. I was incredibly happy, and also impressed by her, when I realised that she never did any such thing; in fact, she argued my case with you. I’m so happy to have such a wonderful woman as my friend, I could squeal. But Ron, I must admit, feels like someone who merely lucked into meeting you early on and making a good impression, and your friendship persisted because you were loyal, generous and kind. I feel that you deserve having Hermione as a friend, and since I’m also very protective of her, I feel that she deserves having you as a friend, too. You have a friendship based on virtue, loyalty, mutual support, kindness and intellectual compatibility. That’s one of the reasons why I was afraid of her – she would be a good wife for you, and the idea scared me more than anything, especially later, when you placed me in the “other” category, “not like other girls”, and yet, it was Hermione who told you that I wasn’t in the “other girls” category because I’m in the “wife” category. So, my perception of Hermione was between admiration and mortal terror, because I felt she’s a true threat. She could say a word and she would be your wife. I will be forever grateful to her for letting me have you.”

“I agree with you about Hermione. She was always a true friend. There has never, ever been a single moment when she betrayed me, turned on me or acted as anything other than the best friend I could wish for. As for Ron… I am sad, disappointed and hurt because of how he acted, and because it isn’t the first time. He turned on me several times before. He would be the best friend I could wish for, and then something tripped a switch inside his mind and he would become… whatever it is that he is now. Jealous, nasty, malicious, hostile.” Harry shrugged, obviously troubled. “I’m having very complicated emotions about this. Mostly frustration, betrayal and pain, though.”

“Let me cheer you up then”, she smiled and nibbled his earlobe. “My period is two weeks late and I’ve been having slight morning sickness. I think I’m pregnant.”

“Woah”, he smiled brightly. “That’s wonderful. No more beer for you, though”, he joked as he kissed her.

“I’ll survive”, she snickered into his neck. “But let’s celebrate this properly.” She looked at him very suggestively as his grin widened.

…

“Will you allow me to crush your hand again, some nine months from now?” Lyra joked with Hermione.

“You’re pregnant!”, Hermione glowed and embraced her.

“Just a little bit”, Lyra laughed.

“Well, this might be a good opportunity to reveal my little surprise as well”, Hermione grinned impishly.

“No!” Lyra gasped “How long?”

“I’m almost three weeks late”, Hermione glowed.

“Almost the same”, Lyra embraced her friend. “I’m so happy. Does Viktor know?”

“Yes, but we waited until I was sure it’s not a false alarm, and by now I’m pretty sure”.

“We have to tell Harry”.

“Tell me what?”, he smiled as he entered the room and saw two glowing women hugging.

“I think I’m three weeks pregnant”, Hermione looked at him with a bright smile.

Harry knelt down beside them. “That’s amazing”. All three of them touched heads. “I love both of you so much”, he whispered.

“Woah, I wish I had a camera”, Viktor smiled as he walked in.

“The girls are both pregnant”, Harry looked at him, smiling. “I just found out about Hermione. I love all of you”.

“I love you too, buddy”, Viktor fist-bumped his shoulder. “Lyra too? Then congratulations are in order”, he kissed Lyra’s hand. “How long?”

“I’m just over two weeks late and I’m getting queasy in the mornings”, she smiled at him. “If all goes well, we’ll be giving birth within a week of each other”.

“We’ll have to notify the Ministry”, Viktor smiled at the glowing woman. “It’s good that work has been incredibly slow lately. Dark sorcery went out of fashion, the Death Eaters have all been dealt with, the Dementors are extinct, and all other threats are minor. We may all end up being fired”, he joked.

“Now thats’ a drawback of doing your job too well, but I’m not complaining”, Harry laughed. “The three of us can always brush up and play Quidditch professionally, and Hermione can be our cheerleader.”

“I never tried to catch a snitch in inclement weather while pregnant”, Lyra grinned. “That might be quite something, but I think I’ll pass”.

“Safety first”, Harry nodded and kissed her forehead.

“I can’t wait to tell Teddy and Andromeda”, Hermione smiled. “They said they’ll be here this afternoon”.

Crookshanks the cat came to see what the commotion is about. “Oh hello”, Hermione cuddled with him. “Nice to see that you haven’t forgotten about me altogether”, she smiled.

“Kreacher”, Harry whispered and the Elf apparated with a crack. “I thought you’d like to know. Both ladies revealed that they are pregnant again. We’re going to have more babies in the family.”

Kreacher smiled. “This is very good. The family will go on. When Master and the Mistresses are ready, tell Kreacher how they want the nursery set up”.

“It will be at least half a year from now, but thank you, Kreacher”, Hermione beamed at him. “But for now, I think Lily and James woke up; let’s bring them down here”.

“Have you seen this?” Ginny was waving a copy of the Daily Prophet where Harry could see Ron’s picture and a title about him and Lyra accompanied by generic slander of some kind.

“No, but I’m not too surprised”, Harry shrugged. “I’ve seen Ron in similar phases twice. Let me guess: we’re all frauds, he has us all figured out, and we hate him because he knows the actual truth about us, but he’s done covering for us and is ready to tell it all like it is”.

“Pretty much, except this doesn’t look like a phase”, Ginny was fuming. “It looks like a final choice of personality. It’s like he’s been balancing between nice and nasty, and now he unapologetically chose nasty and feels like he found his true self. Honestly, Dean and I are serious and if he doesn’t ask me to marry him soon, I’ll ask him, just so that I can get the hell away from that place. He’s constantly moping there like a dark cloud. Lyra, you might test that anti-Dementor spell on him. Fits his character perfectly”, she managed a half-smile.

“When Hermione left him, he switched into that energy, and from there he decided that he feels more powerful being Harry Potter’s enemy who can pretend to be a credible source of gossip, rather than being known as Harry Potter’s stupid and useless friend, whom Hermione left because he was infantile and passive”, Lyra nodded. “In his current state, he feels as if he removed the mental shackles that were binding him to the ground and took flight. He feels powerful when he’s nasty and hateful. It’s what weak people do when they want a cheap way of feeling powerful. He’s getting more attention now and it’s making him feel valuable. It’s much easier than facing the actual issues with his character and doing something constructive”.

Ginny looked at her with mouth agape, and then at Harry. “No wonder you married her and not me”.

Harry smiled uncomfortably and changed the subject. “I don’t think his state of mind will improve until he finds some reason to be a positive person again, something that will give him more energy than he thinks he’s getting from hate and resentment. Is he seeing anyone? It would be good for him if he fell in love”.

“I wish. That would have him leave the house at least once in a while. No, he’s just sitting there being a mommy’s boy and hating on Harry the fake Messiah, Hermione the back-stabbing traitor and Lyra the Death Eater who deceived everybody. Honestly, Harry, by Merlin’s beard, I will hex him so hard that even Mom won’t recognize him and will think it’s a swollen garden gnome”, she was pacing angrily. “I don’t even know what kind of a girl would want him when he’s like that, unless she’s a fellow Dementor”.

“Oh, hi”, she noticed Hermione who came to see what the commotion is about. “You dodged that bullet so hard; only it’s not even a bullet, it’s a cursed dart of fuck my life”, Ginny smiled at her. “I know, he’s my brother, I should be on his side, but honestly if we had another war I don’t care whose side I’m on, as long as I’m allowed to fire curses at him. Please tell me what it feels like to be permanently rid of him because I want to live vicariously”.

Hermione hugged her and laughed. “Yeah, Ron will do that to people. What does it feel like? It doesn’t feel like I replaced him with another person. It feels like I replaced the version of myself that had to tiptoe around his weaknesses and insecurities, with the version of myself that can just exist at full volume”.

“I envy you so much”, Ginny sighed. “I hope to become Mrs. Dean Thomas soon and fly into the sunset, before I end up in St. Mungo in a room next to Neville’s poor parents”.

“Man, how did you pull us out of that Wronski feint? I thought we’d hit the ground at hundred miles per hour”, Viktor Krum pulled fingers through his hair.

“We probably would have”, Harry nodded. “I used the charm Dumbledore saved my life with once, when Dementors attacked me at altitude and I lost consciousness and dropped from my broom. Arresto Momentum”.

“But you didn’t even have a wand. You held onto your broom for dear life with both hands, just like me”, Viktor looked him, confused.

“I actually don’t have to use my wand now for most spells. Lyra was teaching me”, Harry admitted.

“Woah”. Viktor’s look turned into pure amazement.

Harry smiled. “I married well, what can I say”.

“You can say that again”, Viktor nodded. “Although, I think I didn’t do too bad either”, he smiled.

“We both struck gold”, Harry nodded and fist-bumped him. “Kreacher, what are the ladies doing?”, he addressed the Elf.

“The Mistresses are discussing state politics and honing their rhetorical skills, as befits their sophistication and high status”, Kreacher croaked proudly.

“Hair or nails?”, Viktor smiled.

“Nails. They finished hair an hour ago”, Kreacher confirmed.

“It’s so nice to be home”, Harry laughed.

Home, of course, was number 12, Grimmauld Place. Lyra was adamant about not wanting to live in the Malfoy Manor with her parents. She had too many horrible memories of that place from the dark years, and also, she refused to live under her father’s authority any more, after he placed her in that terrible situation by foolishly betting on Voldemort for the second time. There was never a big fight and they were always cordial, but, in her words, she’s an adult woman and her husband is the only authority she needs in her life now.

The dark stuff in the house turned out to be less of an issue than Harry anticipated. As it turned out, there’s no higher authority for a House Elf than his Master’s command, and as he now accepted Harry and Lyra without any reservation, with full heart and his sanity restored, one command from Harry sufficed and he could undo all the protective spells that prevented tampering. Heads of the deceased House Elves were buried in the family crypt with full honours, and their status was elevated from slaves to family members. On Hermione’s recommendation, Harry offered Kreacher freedom if he so desired, but the Elf refused it outright, stating that he is now a Black family member and wishes to remain with his family forever, and freedom to serve them is the only freedom he desires. Since he and Harry shared full stories about that terrible cave, they formed a true bond. So, Walburga’s portrait was taken to the crypt, where she may entertain herself by yelling at her fellow dead, and in its place hung portraits of Sirius and Regulus, and Harry’s parents.

The Black family tree, however, remained on the wall, but with all the names Walburga blasted with her wand restored, and a few more added.

At first, Harry and Lyra enjoyed their freedom and solitude, but after a week they started missing their friends, so Hermione and Viktor were there so often that they had their own full apartment set up on the upper floor, and at some point, all four looked at each other and laughed; they were moved in for months before realising they actually moved in, so they just made it official. After all, since Viktor became an Auror, all four worked at the Ministry and 12 Grimmauld Place was the most secure, unplottable fortress they could possibly have, meeting their security requirements handily, and it was also huge; big enough for the entire Order of Phoenix with children to live there comfortably before the war.

After Lyra’s successful lobbying, the laws were introduced that changed Ministry policy to accommodate the needs of married couples and women specifically, so installations were made that spatially merged one room in the house with their office in the Ministry, so that they could work from home, and still be fully available in the course of their duties. After all, Lyra’s argument made the lawmakers understand that they could not afford to lose neither their abilities, nor their children. As it turned out, this made them more productive, not less. It made the workplace less formal and uptight, but it also made it terrifyingly streamlined, since there was no question of children being left alone while their parents were at work all day. The women were nursing each other’s babies half the time anyway, and things of that kind were now protected as a matter of law; if a mother is nursing her baby, everything else can wait, be it work, state or God. They were no longer pretending to be a muggle tax office. But if Lyra or Hermione had work to do outside the house, one would always step in with the babies, and nobody even had to ask. Having this most important logistics taken care of made them incredibly efficient, the way secure, loved people are efficient. Harry and Viktor, on their part, enjoyed the calm, easy atmosphere, sharing a pint of beer and chilling after work, and they also enjoyed their private Quidditch competition every Sunday. Just the two of them and the snitch, in back country, out of muggle sight. Seeker against Seeker. No distracting nonsense. They were, essentially, one family made of two couples, their children, and Kreacher. They joked that the kids will grow up with two sets of moms and dads and never know which set is “theirs”, and it wasn’t far from the truth. From the outside, they were seen as the most formidable, respectable, wealthy and, honestly, terrifying people in the world. From the inside, they looked like a bunch of cats sleeping and purring on the couch.

As for the wealth, Hermione dug out an ancient but valid contract issued by the Ministry, offering a reward to anyone finding a way to deal with the Dementors. The reward was ridiculously large and unpayable: ten million Galleons. However, when Hermione brought a Ministry official to Lyra, they agreed to terms. Lyra had no wish to bankrupt the Ministry, but she didn’t want to reduce her children’s rightful inheritance either, so they agreed on the total sum of a hundred thousand gold Galleons, transferred to the Malfoy-Potter Gringotts vault in ten annual instalments of ten thousand galleons each, since Lyra was adamant that her husband was an equal contributor to the spell and she absolutely couldn’t to it without him. Also, it was done in line of their work, albeit fully in excess of any and all reasonable expectations, so she gave them a comfortable compromise, and the official left them looking extremely relieved.

Lucius was very generous with his only daughter’s dowry; especially since her husband adopted their family name. This reward was nowhere near that amount, and even further from what they would eventually get, being the sole heirs to the Malfoy estate, but still, she remembered Harry telling her how she should always be proud of being a girl, and this pride flared in her chest. She contributed to the family wealth now, with the money she earned herself, and not merely inherited. Sure, they were so absurdly wealthy they never had to even think about money anyway, and they hardly ever spent any of it since they were all very content and frugal people, but she had an aristocratic upbringing and cared about family wealth. Contributing to it so visibly made her heart swell with pride and warmth.

“Kreacher, do you mind if I ask you something?”, Viktor prompted.

“Not at all, Master Viktor”, the Elf nodded in assent.

“Your old Mistress would be very opposed to anyone who didn’t subscribe to her particular ideas of pure blood, family and so on. Harry was the heir of the Black estate, and Lyra was your ‘Young Mistress’ from when she was a child, so I understand how you may feel about them. But Hermione and I are not family, if we speak strictly of blood. How do you feel about that?”, he looked at the Elf inquisitively.

“Master Harry and Mistress Hermione treated old Kreacher with great kindness when Kreacher was rude and impolite with them. He called Mistress Hermione a mudblood, and Master Harry a blood traitor and other rude names. Still, master Harry entrusted Kreacher with a priceless heirloom of the Black family, from Master Regulus, where Headmaster Dumbledore and Master Harry risked their lives to retrieve the locket, surviving the poison and the Inferi, and Kreacher was there in that terrible place and knows what it was like. They made old Kreacher feel things he never felt before. Kreacher understands now that the old Mistress believed in things Master Regulus died fighting, and Master Harry and Mistress Hermione bravely fought the Dark Lord, hunting his Horcruxes and living in the wilderness like beasts during the war, while they ordered Kreacher to go to Hogwarts and be safe. Master Harry defeated the Dark Lord in a duel, avenging Master Regulus. In Kreacher’s heart, he believes they brought true honour to the House of Black, and Kreacher is proud to call them Masters. This goes for you too, Master Viktor, because you are a husband to Mistress Hermione and a friend to Master Harry, and Kreacher is honoured to be in your service”, the old Elf bowed to the man. Viktor was touched. “Kreacher, I respect you and appreciate you very much. It is an honour for me to have you as a member of my family”.

“How do you do it? Your public speeches have them completely engaged and focused. You get them to laugh. I put them to sleep. I try to be thorough and precise, and all I manage to do is have them check their watches”. Lyra was finished doing Hermione’s hair, and was now doing her nails. Of course they could have done it with magic, but where was the fun in that? She smiled.

“Your mistake is in assuming you’re fighting their lack of information and wrong ideas. Your approach is to create a meticulous, very well researched argument, and then you start with everything everybody would normally miss. So, of course, you lose them in the first sentence.” Lyra applied the acrylic gel very carefully to Hermione’s finger. Normally, it would require UV light to cure, but they did that part with magic.

“Also, your mind is your greatest weapon, so you’re behaving like a person who has a hammer and keeps acting as if everything were a nail. Talking to people is not the same thing as writing a scientific paper. You’re fighting their ignorance, yes, but mostly you’re fighting their boredom, lack of attention, and belief that they have better things to do later. You need to engage them in such a way that they forget about everything else, and you do it by wrestling away their attention from everything else and commanding it instantly. Are you familiar with the medieval mnemotechnic methods? Coena Cypriani, in particular?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the sudden topic shift. “I heard of it, but I can’t say I gave it much thought. Why?”

“Well, they used colourful imagery, that instantly catches attention and wakes up the mind, in order to make something possibly boring or unremarkable extremely easy to remember. It would be something related to sex, indignity or absurdity, and once you remember the funny version of a story, you never forget it, and it’s easy to reconstruct and remember the actual version. That’s the method I use in my speeches. I get their attention with something colourful, and once I have them listening, I just tell them what I need them to know”, Lyra smiled as she applied the dye to the last fingernail of Hermione’s right hand. She closed her eyes, and in a brief flash of magic the dye was cured. Hermione offered her left hand. “Remember how I addressed the Wizengamot after the war?”

“Everybody in the world remembers it”, Hermione smiled. “It was published verbatim in the Daily Prophet, and it became the cornerstone of our politics ever since”.

“Honoured ladies and gentlemen, allow me to bring your attention to a very interesting fact that I noticed. We just won a war against a group that liked killing and torturing people very much, and all of it justified by the supposed fight for wizard supremacy. They had all kinds of derogatory names for people who didn’t share their beliefs. One of them was ‘blood traitor’. I find this term quite funny, since I did some looking into things, inspired by my glorious husband. You see, he brought it to my attention that anything less than three children per couple leads to biological extinction with mathematical certainty. One would expect this to be the cornerstone issue of wizarding politics and ministry policy, but on the contrary, it is never mentioned. The pureblood families instead talk a lot about pure blood and how much it matters, but when it comes to actually making pureblood babies, they always seem to have something better to do – things such as killing or torturing pureblood wizards and witches. Just look at Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. They spent their youth conceiving plans for wizard supremacy, but they never bothered to conceive some actual wizard babies, and so both their families were extinct. The Crouch family had only one son, who was so busy with pureblood supremacy politics that he never bothered to marry, so their family went extinct. The Lestranges, too, cared so much about pure blood that they both never bothered to have children. After all, who would have time for something as trivial, when more important things were at hand, such as torturing the Longbottom couple to insanity and ending up in Azkaban. Even when wizards and witches actually bothered to have children, they would usually stop at one. My own parents used to be the paragons of pureblood supremacy, but they spent their fertile years in political scheming and only bothered to conceive one daughter, whom they, I am sorry to say, exposed to all kinds of dangers by turning our ancestral home into the headquarters of Lord Voldemort and his murderous followers. I could have been killed at any moment and I spent three years in mortal terror; and that’s how they treated an actual pureblood heiress, the only hope for their ancient family to continue. So, I recommend that we redefine the term ‘blood traitor’ for people like the Dumbledores, Crouches, Lestranges and my own parents. They betrayed their blood by allowing their families to come to the brink of extinction, or merrily cross into it, all the while making big statements about the importance of pure blood that served to demean the ‘lesser’ wizarding families, such as the Weasleys, whom I’ve heard addressed in all sorts of derogatory names, ‘blood traitors’ being the foremost, and yet, if we had to name a family that is at no threat of extinction, it would be the Weasleys, because they are a pureblood family that treated their pure blood with enough respect to actually bother having seven children. If anything, they should be given a medal for their great service to the wizarding community, because they acted in honour of their blood, where others spent mere words. And while we’re at that, I will now bid you farewell, because I have a baby to make.”

“You were absolutely hilarious; you had them switch from laughing to deathly seriousness and back to laughter. But your next speech, that was even better”, Hermione laughed so hard that her hand shook and Lyra had to pause painting her nail.

“Most respected judges, I have been called here to tell you about the anti-Dementor spell that I devised. I will do so, but only after I explain the necessary conditions that made its creation possible. You see, there are certain expectations in society, such as that my husband and I, both members of the magical law enforcement, are working when we are at the Ministry, or out in the field, hunting werewolves, dementors and death eaters. But that would be such an unfortunate mistake, because two Aurors, who are also husband and wife, never actually stop working. For instance, at one point we were in bed, resting blissfully after a very enthusiastic effort at making a baby, when I thought that our present state was very much the opposite of what a Dementor is, and thought to make use of this by making a spell that relied on the specific state of both our souls. I would never have thought of it in that boring office, that would make one into a Dementor sooner than giving them an idea on how to defeat one. And why are wizards and witches even spending their best years in that building, pretending to be muggle clerks at the tax office? We are magical beings. We can communicate at a distance. We can connect to coworkers easily from home. We can apparate instantly if there’s a need. I don’t even know who thought of a brilliant idea of wasting magical lives in order to emulate the dreadful muggle bureaucracy that is inherently devoid of everything magical. We can do so much better. We can accommodate for married couples and treat them as a unit, rather than pretending they are separate individuals. Married couples are so much more effective as a team than anything else, and this fact is completely ignored. Also, women are treated as if they were men – and so, no accommodation has been made for the fact that they might want to have babies. It’s actually discouraged and seen as unprofessional, or unbecoming. Believe it or not, I actually hunted down a werewolf while I was six months pregnant, and I think I handled myself quite well. Unfortunately, he resisted arrest, as they somehow always happen to, but that is beside the point, which is that we can’t have an effective repopulation policy unless we stop separating the married couples, having them waste their best reproductive years in dull offices doing paperwork, and treating women with proper respect only if they emulate men, who are never pregnant or breastfeeding an infant. Of course it would be foolish to relegate women to a housewife role only, since we can’t afford to be deprived of their brains and abilities. But we must create an option for a woman to integrate motherhood with career in ways that would make things easier for her, and not create a double burden. Do not underestimate the importance of marital intimacy in a deeply professional setting; I hear that my spell is esteemed quite highly. I just wanted you to know how it came to be, and that, by the way, is a pun. Thank you for your attention”.

“That was fun, especially considering I was so far along with my pregnancy, I was almost in labor when giving that speech”, Lyra grinned, curing the dye on the left hand.

“I would know, since I helped with the delivery, as you well know”, Hermione smiled at her best friend. “And mine was not much behind.”

“So, about the speeches. You seem to think that more evidence and logic will be more convincing. Sure, put it all in the footnotes of a printed copy you give out to the audience. If they want evidence for some thesis, they can find it there. Just don’t lead with that. Give them the bottom line, give them very visual examples that illustrate it, and then just indicate that there’s more if they’re interested. Give them an example from real life. For instance, if you want them to take House Elf rights seriously, tell them about Doby or Kreacher. Make them feel like the actual persons they are. Don’t get too abstract. I know, you do it because you’re good at it but it’s counterproductive at times”, Lyra smiled and returned the hand with the freshly finished nail job.

Hermione hugged her. “Thank you, my goddess”, she giggled.

“Wait, how am I your goddess if I’m doing your hair and nails?”, Lyra hugged her back. “I thought I was your lady’s maid”.

“No, you’re just a wonderful goddess who has a very intimate and personal relationship with your worshipper”.

Lyra whined out of embarrassment, to Hermione’s delight. “Beige pink?”

“The usual”, Lyra smiled as Hermione took her hand.