Harry was standing at the kitchen sink many years later, slowly doing the dishes, but not really paying much mind to them. Sparrow, now nearly 18 years old, lay on the floor by his feet, with Goose, who was much bigger than her, despite being 4 years younger, besides her.
Harry watched Louis run around the lawn, most of their horde of children, 6 to be exact, all chasing him around. He falls (or pretends to) and they all swarm him, Sebastian picking up one of his little sisters and airplane-ing her onto her dad. She shrieked with delight, giggling wildly and harry smiled at them.
Then Louis "Escaped" and it started all over again. Harry smiled and looked down, a fond smile spreading across his face as he looked at number seven, sitting securely in a sling on his chest. The promise ring that was returned to them when they found the woman who had saved harry's life that Christmas, sitting on his finger, which was placed on his sleeping daughter. Her name was Jamie, and she was going to be their last. Harry was nearly thirty-seven and having children was getting riskier and riskier, so he and Louis had made the decision to stop. Harry had gone in to have the surgery the doctors had suggested take place when he was 32 and almost lost the twins due to an unforeseen complication. But harry being harry, he hadn't been able to go through with it. So, when they performed the cesarian to give them Jamie, harry asked them to do it all in one, and they had agreed. She was born and harry had a moment or two with her, then he was put under, and their days of having children were officially over.
But neither of them had minded. They were happy with all their pets, Sparrow, Goose, Zorra, and three new additions, two tabbies named Lola and Ginger (Named by the kids of course) and Gibson, a pug.
Monty had died peacefully in his sleep shortly after the Harrys 31st birthday. Harry had been deeply upset and had cried for days. Louis had been there to comfort him, and when the time was right, to bring home Gibson, who was on death row at the pound. When the kids were old enough, and Edward had passed (for his own well being, they didn't want him to drop dead of a heart attack early because of a predatory invasion) they rescued the twin tabbies (now 4 years old) from the same shelter they had gotten Gibson.
When Louis finally came inside and sent all the kids to get washed up, he wrapped his arms around harry's waist and rested his head on harry's shoulder to kiss his cheek, swaying on the spot to a tune he was humming, the love song harry had finally had the courage to sing to him on their first wedding anniversary.
Harry had his family, he had Louis, and all was well.
Harry was Home.
