Soft hands. He always had the softest hands; she had never felt any others that were so smooth. It was what she would imagine holding hands with a cloud felt like. Softer than baby skin, softer than her fluffy slippers, softer than her favorite lounge chair in the Gryffindor common room, and softer than her childhood fleece blanket. Looking back, she wished she had grabbed that blanket before going on the run all those years ago. The comfort would have come in handy these last couple years; Godric knows he will need it now. Glancing down briefly, her heart fluttered with the amazement of how perfectly their hands fit together. The sight still affected her, even after all this time.

The bright yellow sun shown over the field around them, slowly making its way to meet the horizon. Tall golden grass graced her free palm as she walked beside him, each of them making their own paths through the overgrowth as blue skies stretched out before them. The occasional rustle of the wind or chirp of a far off bird was all that would break the silence she so craved.

It's like a fairytale, she thought to herself. And it really was. For weeks it had been raining with no stop in sight, but she wished and she prayed to whoever may hear her and when she awoke that morning she found her wishes had been granted, if just for the day. Normally, he would have told her it was just a coincidence, but not today. He wanted her to have this perfect day, however it may have come about.

She turned to look up into her wizard's face; to her eyes, he was as perfect as the day she had first seen him on the train to school. However, to everyone else it was quite hard to see that same young boy in the man beside her. Stress from the war had aged him beyond his years: once sparkling emeralds had faded into a dull green, slight lines creased across scared skin, and silver was already dusting at his temples. Still, he was perfect in every way to her. She had no doubt that he would, someday, find someone else who could make him whole again. He would be fine, even if he didn't believe her yet. She could find comfort in knowing that the world would continue on without her in it.

Hermione supposed that she should feel bitter about her current circumstances, that she should hate the wizarding world that she was thrust into at age 11 and fought so hard to save. If she had just grown up like a normal muggle child, she wouldn't be wondering through a wet field at age thirty and she certainly wouldn't be dying. But then, if she had been a muggle, she would never have met her wizard. She wouldn't have been able to spend her last hours with him, holding hands and enjoying each other one last time. He was why she wasn't bitter, why she didn't blame anyone other than that lone Voldemort supporter who tracked her down several years back and hit her with a curse that no one knew how to reverse. But even she had gotten her justice, as he was very quickly caught and convicted. Her anger had dried up long ago, allowing her to enjoy her last couple years. And her focus was always on Harry through it all, and even now.

She stopped walking, slightly tugging at his arm to have him stop as well, but he refused to turn to look at her. After waiting a moment, the witch slowly walked around to his front and took his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks to wipe away the salty tears slowly sliding down his face. A small smile spread across her face.

"You'll be okay." She whispered, her soft voice already showing signs of weakness.

"No," he replied, still looking straight ahead to the coming sunset looming over her head, "I won't."

"You'll see. One day it won't hurt as much."

A choking cough bubbled from his throat, his eyes finally meeting her own. "I never want that day to come," he barely managed to sob, "I can't live without you. I…I'm afraid."

Her light giggles echoed off the rolling hills around them. "You, the great war hero Harry Potter, are afraid? You're not even the one dying, silly!"

"Hermio-"

"No. I know it doesn't feel like it now but I promise you, with all my heart, one day you will wake up and you will be able to move on with your life. That day will come, sooner than you think."

"You are my world. I never want to forget you, Hermione."

"And you won't. You will never forget me or what we've been through, and I don't want you to. Moving on with your life someday does not mean that I meant nothing." She continued to smile though her lecture, knowing how he was likely trying to engrain it into his memory. Hermione took his face in her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. "All it means is that you are fulfilling my last wish, that you're doing what I want you to do. I want you to be happy, Harry. Will you promise me that you will let yourself be happy?"

He shook his head weakly, his eyes never leaving her face. "I don't kno-"

"Promise me." She demanded softly, her hands tightening slightly as her smile faltered.

The couple stared at each other for a moment before Harry finally took in a deep breath and answered, "Fine. I promise I'll try to be happy. But only for you."

The witch beamed back up at him as everything finally fell into place. He would be okay, if only for her sake. Her wizard never went back on his word when it came to his witch. "Good, then it's settled." She turned back towards the sun, "And just in time for the sunset. This should be a good place, right?"

Harry wiped his face once more as he checked his watch. "Yeah, this should do nicely. Shall I do the honors?"

"Please do!" She responded excitedly. Hermione dug through her pocket and pulled out a shrunken sofa. Placing it on the ground next to her, she stepped back to his side has he pulled out his wand and brought their loveseat back to normal size. Linking arms, the couple walked around to the front and settled down into the soft cushions. Hermione leaned in, resting her head on Harry's shoulder as his arm hugged her waist. The sky was already starting to turn to beautiful purple and pink and gold. Sunsets were always her favorite; it was like being a part of a painting with the water colours running together.

Feeling him shift under her, Hermione looked up to find her wizard looking back at her. He brought up a hand to grip her chin. "I love you."

This was it. This was goodbye. They could both feel it. Her eyes watered slightly at the thought, but she was not afraid. She was ready. As he leaned down, Hermione struggled to lift herself up enough to meet him. He held her middle up for extra support as they softly kissed each other for the last time. His free hand came up to stroke her face again as her own hands found themselves clutching at his chest. She reveled in his touch, in this perfect moment. She wanted it to last forever, but nothing ever does. After some time she pulled away slowly, feeling her near constant fatigue begin to take over. It was time. She smiled up at him, "I love you."

He smiled in return, holding onto the moment a little longer before the couple both turned back towards the sun. Her hands found his free one before arranging themselves in her lap. As she lay her head back on his shoulder, peace settled over her. Her body began to relax into Harry's body as her eyes drifted shut.