A/N: Finally, the last chapter! I'm sorry it took so long. I spent a long time over the ending and their future, and realised, as Dostoevsky said at the end of a far greater story than this "That might be the subject of a new story, but our present tale is ended". Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and read over the past two years, and I am especially grateful to my betareaders ladyofthelight101 and rayslady on Livejournal. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

Chapter Thirteen - Teddy and Victoire

We've been holding hands since we were only children

I like the way you arm fits on mine

I love you when we're singing "Mischief Managed"

'cause we're always having a good time

- 'Teddy and Victoire', The Remus Lupins

March 8th, 2030

It was Friday evening. Ted, like his colleagues Carrie and Will, was packing up to go home, as at the end of every day. But tonight there was a certain flourish in his movements. He flicked his wand almost joyfully at the chair, his briefcase and the drawers of his desk. As he threw his coat on, he looked like he was on the verge of a huge grin.

Carrie and Will exchanged looks of surprise, then smiled as they remembered what today was. Ted had been talking about the ninth of March for a few weeks now, and today was the eighth.

"See you on Monday then, Ted," Carrie said, with a slanted tone, as she knew exactly what he'd reply.

"I won't be in," he said. "I've got the week off. I'm spending time with..." He hesitated.

Will nudged him cheerfully. "Go on, say it."

"My daughter," Ted said clearly, and his face glowed, and his hair seemed to stick up a little with triumph.

Ted and Victoire had been waiting for three years, or more if you counted the time before they filled in their first adoption form. It took them a year just to qualify to meet any children. They had had to move to a bigger house, and change their adoption agency to an English one, as Ted had gotten to know most of the children in care in Wales over the years with the Home, and found the prospect of choosing one of them too emotional. Victoire had had to change her job to involve less travel and more grounded work. And then they'd had to go through an interview, which really was like a trial - they'd even had to call in 'witnesses' to provide a judgement on their characters. Now, finally, they'd see if those sacrifices had been worth it.

Ted stopped at the grocery store before he went home. He knew that in a few weeks this would be the most mundane thing in the world, but he was uncontrollably excited to be getting supplies of Golden Honey Snitches cereal, kid-size cartons of pumpkin juice, chocolate biscuits shaped like dragons and oranges which peeled and divided themselves. He also got a bottle of champagne for a Galleon. It was somewhat beneath Victoire's usual standards, but he was sure she'd appreciate it tonight.

He Apparated to the path outside their home. He looked up and saw that the spare bedroom window light was on. Victoire was probably adding some finishing touches to their daughter's room.

Our daughter, Ted thought, for what was probably the hundredth time that day alone. We're going to have a daughter.

He opened the door, and Victoire came downstairs as soon as she heard him. He held up the champagne for her.

"Got us a little treat," he said. "After all, it's our last night alone! Tomorrow, we're Mum and Dad."

Victoire smiled slightly. She seemed a little distracted. "Oh, that's wonderful. The dinner's just cooking now, will you go and lay the table?"

When Ted went into the dining room with the knives and forks in his hand, he saw that everything was cleaner than it had ever been in the two years since they'd moved in. The table was covered with a white lace tablecloth that he had never seen before and there was a jug of water with ice and a bowl of salad already on the table. It smelled of blue cheese dressing. The condiments were neatly arranged in the middle of the table, and finally, there was a red candle in pride of place, waiting to be lit. Ted lit it with his wand, and admired the warm glow in the room. When Victoire came downstairs, he congratulated her.

"Place looks nice," he said. "Special occasion?"

"All our dinners are going to be like this from now on," she said. She patted the chair at the head of the table. "Sit down. This is your place."

Ted raised his turquoise eyebrows. "Oh come on, you can't be serious. I have a place now?"

She frowned. "You said yourself we needed to create a routine in the house, so that's what I'm doing. Sit down, Father."

That was indeed what he'd said. Working in a children's home had given him a little understanding of what older adoptive children needed. Their first day ought to be like any other day. It was no good to bombard her with gifts, luxury food and her choice of bedtime if that wasn't the long-term plan. She needed to know quickly what being part of the family meant.

"Routine means, like, everyone has lunch together at the weekend, or, bath night is Tuesday and Thursday...stuff like that. Not, bloody, Father at the head of the table and candles every night. This is 2030, after all," Ted said.

Victoire folded her arms. "You might think it's over the top, but I think its reassuring. It feels good when everything fits together nicely. Our home is attractive and welcoming."

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Oh yes, and I suppose you'll be doing your needlework tonight while I take snuff and read the evening newspaper."

"You're not funny," she snapped. "Stop thinking you're right about everything."

He stopped smirking. "Oh, really, Vic, I was just..."

The faint smell of burning entered the room.

"Oh bloody hell, Ted, look what you made me do!" Victoire said, though with that her back became less stiff, her face relaxed, and a bit of her hair came loose. She pushed the door forcefully with mock frustration and went back into the kitchen.

"Yeah, if there's one thing kids definitely don't like, it's burnt dinner!" Ted said.

He panicked for a second that she would take this seriously and get into a

mood for the rest of the evening, but when she came back in with the dish full

of meatballs, she looked just fine.

"I'll have to tell our girl it's not that Mum's a bad cook, it's that Dad's

got a habit of distracting her," she said, and he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

After dinner, they talked for a long time over the champagne. They'd been over

nearly everything in the past two years, but it was comforting to rehearse it one more time. The day after her arrival they'd take her shopping for things for her room. The following week if everything went well they'd start looking at local schools for her to go to. At the end of the month, towards Easter, she'd meet her adoptive godparents Rupert and Dominique, her grandparents Bill and Fleur and her great-grandmother Andromeda. Then they'd slowly, slowly introduce her to the rest of the Weasley clan.

Of course they both knew that it might be useless to make plans like these. They really didn't know what was in store for them, but keeping a vision of the future, they thought, would help with any difficulties that came in the present. Like how nervous they were both becoming. They held their champagne glasses with both hands like they were mugs of hot tea, which might have been better suited to the mood of the night.

"Do you think she'll like us?" Victoire asked, breaking the ice a little.

Ted looked down at the table. "Hopefully. I mean...most adoptions, statistically, go well, so...as long as we try our best, you know..."

It was unusual, all this. If they'd made or adopted a baby, they'd have had all the support they could possibly need from their families and friends, and more. But this child had already lived six years without them, and there weren't so many who knew what to say about that. At times they were frightened that that precious family bond would never form, even though they'd been assured by social workers and other parents that it would if they just kept working on it.

"And also," he said, "she was matched with us. We chose her."

"Yes," she said, her face lighting up in the memory. "I might ask for a copy of that photograph. It's wonderful."

Ted also felt a little better at remembering the first time he saw that photo. They'd been on the list for six months by that time and hadn't really had a match which suited them yet. They had begun to wonder if they ever would. Then one afternoon the witch from the Magical Adoption Bureau had come to visit, and given them the profile of a little girl with out-of-control hair and brightly coloured clothes. She was sat at a table - she'd been interrupted in the middle of doing some art. There were spots of paint on her little hands. Something about her face appealed to them both more than any of the photos they'd seen before, and when they read all the information attached to the photo, this feeling got stronger and stronger. They kept the profile and re-read it several times that same evening and the next morning. And that was it. It was love.

The evening was getting late. They put away everything, and did quick spells over anything that looked out of place or unsatisfactory, even though they'd probably wake up tomorrow and put them back the way they were. They knew they had to get to bed early, but neither of them really expected to sleep.

"I finished her room today," Victoire told Ted, quietly. "Do you want to see it?"

He followed her upstairs to the room that would be their daughter's. They'd painted it in a soft yellow colour with rainbow wallpaper on the bottom half of the wall, in tribute to her 'personal style'. It was quite bare because they thought she'd be happier choosing her own toys, but neither of them could help themselves from adding a few personal touches.

"I found this today," Victoire said, gesturing to a battered stuffed hippogriff at the end of the bed. "He seems rather familiar."

"Gran sent him over," Ted said, looking at it fondly. "His name's Flappy, my mum bought him for me. Though these days he's more like Floppy. I always hoped I'd have a kid to give him to."

In the corner of the room was a magnificent doll's house. The beams of the house were made out of real wood and the roof was lined with shells, just like Shell Cottage. It had a bright wooden gate at the front and little plastic flowers along the fence. A family of dolls were stood outside as if they were waiting to move in.

"That," Victoire said, with a certain pride, "is Sunflower House. It was my best toy for a long time. Dad did all the paintwork - he said he wanted to do something for his first grandchild's arrival."

"They...they don't mind, do they?" Ted asked, slightly anxiously. The last thing he wanted was for the family to get annoyed with them, or to turn up unexpectedly out of desperation to see the new Lupin.

"Oh no, not really. They've waited two years, so a few weeks is nothing. And my poor Maman is still trying to deal with the fact she's becoming a grandma and turning fifty in the next few weeks."

The family had sent along a few little gifts to make the bedroom more homely. By the mirror was a brand new hairbrush and comb from Fleur which would make their daughter's hair shine - if she wanted it to, of course. On the bookshelves were several books of Winnie The Pooh which Dominique had donated, saying that even if they were for Muggles they were 'classic' or something. Downstairs they had some gifts from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that they would give her once she'd settled in a bit more. Finally, on her bedside table, Victoire had placed a small bouquet of flowers from the garden.

"They're the first crop of daffodils this year," she said, "Granddad said he was sorry he didn't have any that smelled better, bless him. I think they make the place look...fresh, you know?"

Ted agreed. He wasn't much of a flowers man himself, but they did make the place look a bit more welcoming, even at night.

"They're perfect," he said. He put an arm around her waist, and she leant her head on his shoulder. They stood in the clean, empty room for just a little while longer, then silently agreed to go to bed.

As he joined her in bed that night, he said once again "Merlin, this time tomorrow, we'll be...a family of three."

Victoire beamed. "Parents of one."

"Our daughter. Our...Victoire, that, that is our daughter's bed."

"And those are Daddy's pyjamas you've got on."

He leant his head to hers and breathed deeply. "Mummy's perfume."

Daddy, Mummy. Family. Those words, those two people had meant everything to them both. She was the girl from the family that the papers said was taking over wizarding Britain, and he was the last Lupin. They had a destructive disease in their veins that had almost destroyed them in an entirely different way to the expected. But now, the struggle was almost over, and though it would take a little while longer for the pieces of the puzzle to fit together just right, they were so content, so purely full of love, and nothing in the world could change that now.

Adoption Announcement

We are delighted to announce that our daughter,

SOPHIE MADELINE

born 21st of August, 2024,

joined our family and our home 9th of March, 2030.

Visitors welcome after the 9th of April.

221 Candlewick Street, Cardiff

with love, Ted and Victoire.