A/N: Let me state for the record and entirety of this story that I do not own either the Harry Potter or the Twilight franchises.
Chapter One:
The warm wind, heady with the scent of Scottish summer tousled their hair as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger stood in the rapidly dwindling rays of sunlight, watching the sunset cast a peaceful golden glow over the Great Lake. It had been three months since the defeat of Voldemort in the last battle and slowly Hogwarts was being repaired to its former glory. Looking about now, in the quiet evening light, it was hard to fathom that a battle had ever even taken place. However, behind every tree, every dancing shadow, Harry knew the specter of death lurked, lingering even now after the dead were mourned and buried.
"What now?" Hermione asked softly, interrupting his thoughts as she twirled a soft chestnut curl around her finger. "Where do we go from here?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably. It was strange, he mused, that they had never given any serious thought to what would happen after the war. He supposed they had just never imagined that it would actually end.
"Well," he said, his eyes following one of the giant squid's tentacles as it glossed lazily over the water's surface. "I was thinking about traveling a bit. Doing a little soul-searching, you know."
Ron snorted. "I'd think you would have had done enough soul-searching already to last a lifetime, mate."
Hermione swatted his arm lightly as Harry gave a weak chuckle, his hand reflexively brushing against the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead that had once housed a piece of Voldemort's soul. "Yeah, not that kind," he said.
"Where would we go?" Hermione asked.
"You will not be going anywhere!" Ron snapped.
Harry startled at the harsh tone, looking at his friend in surprise. "No need to shout at her, mate," he admonished, narrowing his eyes.
Ron had the grace to look sheepish, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his large hand. "Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean that the way it came out. It's just...well, Hermione can't travel. Not now."
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione snapped, her amber eyes flashing indignantly. "I can and will do whatever I please! I will not be treated like spun glass! I'm not as fragile as that, you know, nor as subservient!" Ron's face grew very mottled and his eyes darkened.
Harry suddenly felt very lost as he gaped at his argumentative friends in utter bewilderment. Clearly he had missed something "What are you two nattering on about?"
Hermione's cheeks took on a decidedly pink tinge as she studiously avoided meeting Harry's eyes. "We were going to tell you soon, Harry, honest. It's just...well, we just found out and..,well, it was quite a shock, wasn't it?"
"What was?"
Ron sighed. "Harry, mate, Hermione, she's..."
"I'm expecting," Hermione said quietly, her blush deepening.
Harry's brow furrowed. "Expecting what?" he said blankly.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry. Honestly. I'm pregnant."
Harry's eyes widened, a blush of his own heating his cheeks. "What! But...how...when..."
Ron coughed. "You really don't want us to explain how, do you?" Hermione swatted the back of her boyfriend's head, scowling.
Harry just gaped at the pair, at a loss for words.
"Disregarding the how," Hermione said primly, "the when is easy enough. It happened right before the battle, in the Chamber."
Harry choked. "You shagged in Salazer Slytherin's secret chamber in the middle of a battle?!"
"Well, we weren't sure that we'd, you know, get a chance after," Ron said somberly. "We didn't expect..." he trailed off. He didn't need to finish his sentence. None of them had expected to emerge from the final confrontation with Voldemort alive.
There was a short silence, broken only by the low hoot of owls as they emerged for their evening hunts.
"You'll be the godfather, won't you?" Hermione asked suddenly, uncertainly, her voice sounding so very young.
"I-yes, of course," Harry said tenderly, pushing back his shock to envelope the petite girl in a hug. "Congratulations, Mione. And you too, mate," he added, clapping Ron on the back.
"Thanks," the lanky redhead replied. "We haven't told mum yet, she'll be furious and overjoyed." His voice was woeful and Harry grinned, easily imagining the traditional Mrs. Weasley's volatile reaction. He suspected that there would be a wedding in the very near future as well as a birth.
"Where will you go, Harry? If you do decide to travel, I mean," Hermione asked, looking at him in concern. Harry shrugged.
"I dunno. I think I'd like to just wander for a bit, you know? Clear my head." He smiled ruefully. "I've never been on a proper vacation before. I think I'll just see where the road takes me. Italy, France, maybe America. Who knows?"
"You'll write, yeah?"
Harry smiled gently. "Of course." Ron nodded, slinging an arm around Hermione, who leaned into Harry. Together they stood, silhouetted against the darkening lake and forest beyond as they watched the stars light up the inky night. Unspoken though it was, they knew that after this moment, after this absolutely perfect snapshot in time, everything would change.