Chapter Text
Chapter Twenty-Two
l'épilogue | the epilogue
The residents of Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, agreed that they had most unusual neighbors.
In 1981, the Dursleys took in their orphaned nephew, a boy called Harry Potter. He grew up to be a thin, bright boy with emerald-green eyes and messy jet-black hair. He lived at Number Four.
Only a month later, the elderly owners of Number Two sold their home. They won a contest they hardly remembered entering and received a fully paid, charming seaside cottage. They moved out and an odd little family moved in.
The family began as an uncle and niece duo. The young man, who couldn’t have been older than 21 at the time of the purchase of the home, had long, neat hair, rode a motorbike, and had recently taken in his newly orphaned niece, a girl called Electra. The residents of the street agreed it was a strange name, but she had a perfectly normal, if too-Roman middle name (Regina). The girl liked to be called Electra and her uncle, bearing another eccentric name, Sirius, were unfailingly polite, neat, and caused no trouble at all.
It was commonly known that the residents of Number Four (with the notable exception of young Harry) despised their neighbors.
Their anger seemed to grow over the years as uniquely dressed, but clean, courteous people came through the doors of Number Two.
Some, like the Tonkses, became regular, welcome fixtures. Mr. Ted Tonks was an instant favorite among the older women in the neighborhood, as he was gregarious and always seemed to know how to fix their plumbing problems. Mrs. Tonks, another uncommonly named woman (Andromeda), was stiffer in her manners, but kind. Their daughter, Dora, whose hair color no one could predict, as her parents let her run wild with chemical dyes, went to a boarding school in Scotland for gifted children, where both Harry and Electra already had a place.
Others were frequent visitors but weren’t as outwardly friendly. A weary man called Remus (the residents were beginning to think these were stage names) was among them, as were a little family called Longbottom (Alice, Frank, and small Neville were exceptionally average names, thank you very much).
There was one man who came over more often than everyone else. The residents knew him as Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he was always finely attired in the latest designer suits. He claimed he worked for the government (there were rumors he worked for the MI6), and in ’85, he became a permanent neighbor. The residents had their suspicions about the ‘roommates,’ but as there was no proof of anything but friendly behavior (and the nosiest neighbors looked very hard), it was determined that Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt were very good friends indeed who both enjoyed doting on Electra, and mysteriously, Harry.
While Harry was a resident of Number Four, he was rarely found inside its walls save for the night. He had a curious bond with the owner of Number Two, and perhaps it was because of his friendship with the fellow orphan that Mr. Black and Mr. Shacklebolt took the boy under their wing, as if he were their own.
The years passed in these happy, but colorful circumstances. Mr. Black was trained as a mechanic and gladly lent advice or tools to his neighbors. Neither Electra nor Harry caused any trouble at school, and were known among teachers and classmates as particularly excellent students. Mrs. Dursley would vehemently disagree, calling her nephew a foul boy indeed, but neither scars nor eyeglasses made a boy wicked.
In ’90, Electra went off to the boarding school and returned with a wardrobe full of emerald green and silver. Harry joined her the following year, but his wardrobe became scarlet and gold.
While the children were at school, Mr. Black and Mr. Shacklebolt traveled. The residents of Privet Drive were never told where they went, or how long they would be away for (they assured everyone their dog, Snuffles, was always well cared for in their absence), but when they returned, they were never rested.
It was the 21st century by the time a new leaf was turned in Privet Drive. The Dursleys moved out, as did Mr. Black and Mr. Shacklebolt. Of what became of the motley, peculiar residents, the rest of the neighborhood was unaware, but as with most community gossip, all sorts of tell-tales were given, and nothing was believed.
Electra sat in her study and traced a path along the illuminated globe. It was her favorite room in Grimmauld Place. It was quiet, safe, and though she didn’t remember him, reminded her of her father.
“Knock, knock?”
“Uncle Sirius, if you say knock-knock it defeats the purpose of knocking.”
“When you were a teenager,” he replied, smiling fondly at her, “it was the only way to get your attention.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because it annoyed me.”
“Still works, my dear.”
Sirius sat down across from the desk. It felt odd, having her uncle on the other side, as if she were the one in charge, but that’s what her father wanted. Uncle Sirius gave her the choice to take over the home and investments or forge her own path. There was no more war, Voldemort, or violence to worry about anymore. At 23, she had yet to decide.
“Do you think he would be disappointed in me,” Electra said, not needing to say who ‘he’ was, “if I just wanted to be married and have loads of babies?”
“If that’s what you want, Electra, you can do whatever you like.”
“I want to marry Fred.”
“Good, given that you’re already engaged to him.”
“He said we could give our kids my last name.”
Sirius quirked a brow. “He’d rather be a Black?”
“He says there’ll be enough Weasleys.”
“What do you say?”
“I think my father would be proud of me.”
Sirius looked at her for several moments. Electra knew some part of her father wouldn’t like Fred—the Weasleys were notorious blood traitors after all—but he was funny, sweet, and loved her. He even loved that she wanted her surname to last, in honor of her father.
“Will we add all the Weasleys to the tapestry?”
Electra grinned. She had been restoring the tapestry for years, reinstating everyone who was disowned or shunned for being born Squibs. While proud of her roots, she didn’t like the charred marks on the wall.
“Harry says that he doesn’t want to know how closely related he and Ginny are.”
Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “You’d have to go back, way back for that to matter. It’s not like you and Draco or you and Teddy.”
“Teddy’s five, and eugh.” Electra shivered at the thought of going anywhere near her twat of a cousin, Draco. He’d improved with age, but only barely. Teddy was a sweet thing, just like his mum and dad.
“And Fred? Will he move into this haunted house?”
“He likes it here. Says it’s spooky, in the good way.”
“Then I wish you all the happiness in the world, Electra.” Sirius offered his hand and helped her out of her seat. “Now, are you ready to celebrate your engagement with the family?”
Electra smiled and hugged her uncle.
“I’m ready.”