Epilogue

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They lay together, on the damp grass in the garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. The sky was clear and starry, perfect.

"You see that Lyra," Draco said, pointing to a small constellation on the far side of the sky, "that is the Lyra constellation."

"Mine. My constewation." The two year-old babbled happily.

"Yeah, it's yours. And over there, that's the Draco constellation, My constellation." He said, pointing to a larger group of stars.

"Daddy got stars like me. And so has Papa."Lyra said, pointing up to he sky but in no particular direction.

"He hasn't, Lyra, but he doesn't need to. Papa doesn't need stars to shine. He has all the space to shine in here."

And Draco pointed to his heart. And the little girl with the same eyes as her Papa did the same.

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