Maybe we should stay here, Harry. Grow old…"
Harry felt his heart leap into his throat. His heart raced, his stomach dropped, and every internal organ he had suddenly decided to become acrobats. The possibility of growing old was something he rarely thought about. The possibility of growing old with Hermione, though… He entertained the thought for a moment.
His thoughts brought him to a wonderfully sunny day exactly where the pair sat now. Except there was a house. And children. Three beautiful children playing and laughing just off the front porch of this mysterious house where he sat with Hermione. His Hermione. They were seated on a porch swing with glasses of lemonade in their hands. Hermione set hers off to the side and leaned into Harry, sighing with contentment when he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her hair. He was happy, almost deliriously so. Hermione looked up at him and opened her mouth to speak.
"Harry? Harry? Harry!"
Harry jumped, startled by the volume of the voice. He looked up sharply and was disappointed to see that he was back in the forest, with no house, and no children. Only a tent. A tent and Hermione. His Hermione.
"Have you heard anything I've said in the past five minutes?" Hermione demanded, crossing her arms in frustration.
"Erm, actually, I stopped listening after you suggested growing old here. Together." Harry suddenly found his shoes quite interesting.
If he would have looked up he may have noticed Hermione blush profusely, and smile slightly to herself.
