Durmstrang Girl (A Hogwarts Love Story)

Epilogue

*18 1/2 or Something Years Later*

"Come on, girls, we're going to be late." I yelled upstairs as Dean and I stood in the livingroom.

"We have half an hour until the train leaves, love, calm down." Dean laughed.

"I know, but you know they won't be down for another few minutes and it'll a take a bit for goodbyes."

   As if on que, our fifteen and eleven year old girls were quickly stomping down the stairs, taking our hands.

"Ready?"

"Yup." "Of course."

   We apparated to Kings Cross station with a pop. Eliza, who was going into her fifth year as a Ravenclaw, ran through the wall to the platform lugging her trunk along with her. Annabelle, on the other hand, was more anxious since this was her first time.

"Dad 'll get your trunk and we'll run through it together, ok?" I asked my youngest daughter as she grabbed my hand.

"Ok." She nodded.

   We sprinted towards the wall, trying to look as normal as possible. Of course, we were about to run through a brick wall, so that's not very easy. Annabelle closed her eyes as we neared it, and opened them when we stopped on the other side. Dean was close on our heels.

   We walked closer to the train, near where Elizabeth was talking with her friends.

"Have fun, and don't be afraid to get into a little trouble. Just don't hurt anyone and try not to get hurt." Dean said, hugging her.

"Yeah, we expect to get a letter from the school by the end of term." I joked, smiling as she hugged me. 

   Annabelle calmed down a little, before spotting someone she knew.

"Oh, there's Albus!" She exclaimed excitedly when she saw the Potter boy. 

"Go ahead, we'll get your trunk on the train for you." Dean said.

"Love you guys, I'll see you Christmas break!" She exclaimed before racing off to talk with her friend.

   Dean and I got her trunk on the train like we had said before stepping back to watch as the train started to roll out of the station. Annabelle hung out of a window, waving her arm off at us. We laughed, waving back.

"I bet you she's a Gryffindor." Dean said.

"Nah, I think Hufflepuff." I replied.

   When an owl came the next day with our daughter's messy handwriting saying that she was a Hufflepuff, we couldn't be prouder, even if it meant that we each owed Kirstov five galleons.

And all lived happily ever after.

The End

   Thank you guys so much for reading my story! If you liked it, please go check out some of my others. Love you all!

~Vix