Disclaimer: Using the characters from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter book series, with a dash of the movies as my plot bunny dictated. She can't have them back as I detested the Epilogue, but you can love it. Although you most likely don't seeing as you are reading this ;)

I do have more chapters written and I will post if people want to read how it continues. Otherwise I'll just leave it as a one-shot.

Any and all reviews are appreciated – Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Peace

Harry sat at the bottom of the stone stairs inside Hogwarts. The battle was over and they had won. If you could call it winning, he thought as he dazedly looked about him. Blood, rubble and the cries of the injured were all about him. The cries for the dead also rose and fell.

He had been in the Great Hall, sitting there as the living had started to bring in the dead. The Weasleys had entered en masse carrying a body. He had known at that point that he couldn't stay there. All he wanted, all he needed was peace and quiet. He knew that if Molly Weasley had seen him or if Ginny or Ron had for that matter, he would have been expected to join them in their grief. Hermione, as expected, was already there with them.

Mrs. Weasley would have hugged him, a bone crushing desperate hug. He just couldn't take that right now. No, he had been used and crushed enough during his life. Molded into the perfect sacrifice by those he had trusted. Right now he craved gentleness and peace. So he had left the living to the dead, wondered out of the Great Hall and onto the relative peace of the stairs.

He was staring at his hands as random thoughts floated through his mind when soft hands clasped his slowly drawing him to his feet. He closed his eyes not wanting to see who was guiding him up the stairs. He felt empty and so very alone. He had felt this way for years, in actual fact he always felt alone. Even when he was going out with Ginny or laughing with Ron or arguing with Hermione he felt alone. They had helped keep the loneliness at bay temporarily, but it was always there, waiting.

Whoever was leading him took his unresisting body to wherever they wished. He didn't really care if they took him to the astronomy tower and pushed him off. He had no real reason to keep living, his duty was done. Mission accomplished. Spending all these years desperately fighting against Voldemort had left him with nothing planned for the future, just the possibility of becoming an Auror. Did he really want to continue fighting Dark Wizards? Was he never to achieve any peace or happiness?

Vaguely he wondered if Dumbledore had anticipated that Harry would live past the battle. Thinking on it, he thought not. No, Harry was to be the sacrifice for another to defeat Voldemort. Perhaps Dumbledore himself as his death had not been part of the original plan.

With an ache in his heart Harry realized that Dumbledore had just used his tools and tossed them away when he was finished. Look at himself or Snape; both were used until they died as Dumbledore had planned. It had only been a quirk of fate that Harry had 'won' the Elder Wand from Draco's unknowing ownership. Dumbledore had planned for Snape to be the owner. How stupid was that?

Yes, Dumbledore had to have known that Voldemort would kill Snape to become the rightful master of the Elder Wand. How had Dumbledore expected anyone to defeat the unbeatable wand if Voldemort had been the rightful master? Harry could only shake his head at the futility of Dumbledore's plans. Even if Dumbledore had allowed Draco to disarm him, and Harry wasn't sure if that was the case or if he really had been weakened to that point. It still left the certainty of Snape easily disarming Draco if he had been about to cast the killing curse. Regardless Dumbledore had planned the deaths of Snape and Harry.

He turned his thoughts away from the pointlessness of berating a dead man. He had the chance during the strange vision when he had 'died', but he had been so confused. He still couldn't understand why his parents, Remus and Sirius' ghosts had walked him towards his death. Why would his Mother have supported his death if she had given her life for his so very long ago? What parent would do that? Was it another illusion and manipulation of Dumbledore? Most likely it really hadn't been the resurrection stone after all, as Harry had seen it cracked and broken upon Dumbledore's hand in the Gaunt Lordship ring. It had been cursed by Voldemort and was slowly killing Dumbledore after he foolishly put it on.

A heavy weight was falling upon his soul; he knew what the Ministry would do with him now, expect of him. Oh, he was still expected to do things, by everyone. He was to be the hero, lifted up for them to praise and throw parties for, used to endorse the next Ministry agenda, again to be Ginny's boyfriend and then husband. It was all laid out before him as plain as could be. It all filled him with an empty puppet feeling.

With his eyes still closed he was turned then gently pushed until he sat on a soft surface. His feet were lifted and shoes removed. Still he kept his eyes closed as his glasses were taken from his face, a cleaning spell was used then his clothes transfigured into sleepwear. Feeling more of the gentle pushing and pulling he gave in to lay upon a comfy bed and he desperately grabbed for the hands to hold them tight as he whispered, "Don't leave me."

One hand stayed with him and then a body lay down close to his own. He exhaled starting to relax as he felt the warmth and comfort being close to another person brought to him. He heard the whispered words, "I won't leave" and fully released his tension as peace at last allowed him to relax. Eventually curiosity had him lifting his eyelids just a fraction.

Internally he chuckled at finding himself in bed with Luna. This must be her dorm and bed. His weariness forced his eyes to reclose. Slowly and carefully he pulled her closer until she was in his arms and partially draped over his own body.

He was drifting between wakefulness and sleep. Enjoying the comfort of holding a soft warm body against his own, warming even his weary soul. Thinking about the girl he was holding he realized that here was a person who could and did understand him. Both had felt the loss of a parent, been tortured, bullied and thought ill of. Luna was always there steadfast and calmly supporting and comforting him. She saw to the heart of things and showed him the wonders of being different, like them and the thestrals. Sure she was quirky but she made him laugh and more importantly relax. He never had to be anyone else around her.

With Ginny he had always wondered who she saw, the real Harry or the boy-who-lived or the hero who had rescued her in second year. They had gone out for a short time but he had set her aside to complete his mission and keep her safe. They had their chance and now a year later he had the distance to examine their relationship.

He didn't like that he had only noticed her as a desirable female when she had been publicly snogging Dean. He hadn't liked feeling that jealousy and irrational desire to have her as his. He wondered if she had only been a toy another possessed and is that why he had wanted her? He had never felt like that in his life before. If it was true, then that was not a good basis for enduring love and eventual marriage. He craved peace, gentleness and quiet, he had so little of it in his short life.

He reflected back on being in the tent alone with Hermione. She also was one who steadily supported him, even if she had bossed him around too much in their earlier years. Ron had disappointed them both but she had always risked her life for Harry, used her brains to help him and always been dependable. He cared for her deeply and if she had but turned towards him when they had been alone, he thought perhaps he could have fallen in love with her.

He didn't understand her relationship with Ron or why she thought she loved him. They fought constantly, said and did hurtful things to each other. Why would they call that love? That would be like him saying that the Dursleys had loved him. They had yelled at him, hit him and punished him for imagined wrongs. That wasn't love, it was abuse and cruelty. Ron was always criticizing Hermione, mocking her and trying to tear her down when she felt happy. He would have to sit down with Hermione at some point and ask her about it.

An arm slowly moved to rest across his chest and fingers tangled into the ends of his hair distracting him from his thoughts. He felt her leg move into a more comfortable position before tangling with his own. Her head was resting partially on his chest and shoulder. He felt his body respond to her touch and wondered how she would react. She stilled then stiffened for a moment before relaxing and seemed to almost melt onto him. She had shifted and now both her legs entwined with his; she was now almost fully lying on top of his body. Her breasts pressed against his chest and they were both starting to breathe faster.

He groaned when she again moved causing blissful friction. Swiftly his eyes opened as he flipped her over then his eyes closed as he kissed her passionately. She answered his desire and matched it with her own. Her legs opened further for him as he pressed himself against her soft welcoming body. He braced his weight on his arms and now lifted himself up to gaze into her face. Her calm grey eyes had become stormy with passion but he still saw her calm acceptance.

His body wanted hers, but he didn't want to ruin the start of what could be a lasting love. He turned them over once again so that he was again on his back and she was plastered against him. Smiling he lifted her upper body and chuckled as her long blonde hair flowed around them creating a curtain. He lifted her further up until she was straddling him and then he scooted backwards so that he could rest against the headboard.

She surprised him by blushing and he realized, when she squirmed, that he had positioned her exactly over his desire. He grabbed her hips to stop her movements and huskily said, "This isn't the time. I think we need to talk."

Instantly she stopped then glanced away as sadness filled her eyes, "Ginny?"

Blinking at her in surprise he frowned then said, "No. That's been over for almost a year now. I don't think it was even love, just expectation and convenience maybe. Perhaps a last desperate attempt for normalcy, I don't know. One minute I didn't see her as anything other than Ron's little sister then I see her snogging Dean and I'm feeling irrational jealousy. I didn't like feeling like that and I still don't understand it."

He saw her eyes light with understanding and he had to ask, "What? Please explain it to me because it really bothers me that I felt that way so suddenly."

A tender look was on her face as she rested her hands on his chest. "A jealousy potion keyed to her."

His lips thinned as anger spread across his face. Seeing her calm compassion his anger faded away leaving him examining her face. She was beautiful in her own unique way. His eyes followed her hair and the curves of her body. As his hands firmed to hold her hips he felt his desire for her return. "You're beautiful and so very special. I'm sorry I wasn't a very good date at Slughorn's Christmas Party."

Her eyes had widened in surprise before a full smile grew upon her face. She leaned down against him and whispered, "Must have been the nargles and the potion, a very difficult combination to defeat."

His eyes almost crossed as her breasts pillowed against his chest and he could see her cleavage. He groaned as she scooted down and his hips jerked up against her. Moving his hands to her back he pulled her further down onto his chest and captured her lips in a searing kiss. The kiss eventually gentled and they ended it by gasping for breath.

She teasingly said, "I thought you wanted to talk."

Keeping his eyes closed to prevent seeing what his mind was picturing and his body was feeling he growled, "Yes, talk." Opening his eyes he stared into hers and asked, "Luna will you be my girlfriend or rather my fiancée?"

The peace and calmness he had been seeking shone from her eyes along with happiness as she whispered, "Yes, Harry I will be your fiancée." Then her eyes clouded and she asked, "Why me Harry, of all the girls, why me?" Her breath hitched when his eyes shined brightly with the beginnings of love.

His fingers held and caressed her face as he gazed into her eyes, "Peace, happiness, acceptance, understanding, wisdom and love Luna. You are everything I need and want."

A few tears trickled down her face as he kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears. "Hush now Moon Goddess, don't cry. We'll take things slow. I never had much love in my life and I want you to teach me. Can you do that? You'll need to be patient."

A giggle escaped from her lips as she nodded and he casually said, "So we are alone here and you've put up charms to prevent anyone from entering I hope." A slow sly smile crossed her face as she again nodded.

He sighed, closed his eyes and said, "Good, lay down now please I want to sleep." She shot him a scoffing look and wiggled against him. He clasped her hips stopping her movements as his eyes opened. "Okay, yes I want to make love to you but I really need and want to sleep with you in my arms. I need your peace and comfort right now more than a temporary physical release."

She relaxed and cuddled into him. After a moment she whispered, "I love you Harry."

His eyes drifted closed as he murmured, "I love you too Luna. Thank you for being my 'everything'."

Smiles were upon their faces as they drifted off to sleep. Neither was thinking of what tomorrow would bring or the uproar their relationship would cause. They would face it with a deep peace settled in their hearts knowing the other would support them through it all.