She sat on the couch, watching as her son and daughter played together on the living room floor. Her daughter's hair was falling in soft ringlets around her perfectly shaped face; the old hairstyle for pre-school picture day had undone after hours of lasting from the muggle hairspray.

Just looking at them reminded her so much of him. He had left four years ago and that was the last anyone had heard from him. He hadn't left for love reasons, he had left for freedom. He went to fight in that war. That bloody war that had torn apart so many families, including his.

The boy's eyes drooped and the girl poked him with her finger, laughing a little as small spit bubbles fell out of the corner of his mouth. She stopped as her attention span grew small, and began twirling her beautiful hair on her small finger as she turned toward her mom.

"Is it bed time?"

"Yes darling. Time for bed." She answered.

After she tucked the two charming children into bed, she walked into her own room and sat down on the bed, looking out the large arch window-way. The full moon lit the room dimly and she simply stared at in, entranced, like a moth attracted to a flame. Her wispy bangs fell into her eyes and she didn't bother to reach up and wipe them away. The lone star out that night had now caught her attention. A single saline tear fell down her beautiful face and she tasted it on her lips. Was this what her life was down too?

Staring at stars and simply wishing for her every dream, her every passionate dream, to come true?

Well, this childish game didn't work for her, that's for sure. She had been praying with every thread of her being for four long, seemingly endless years with no result.

Would she ever see him again? So many days had gone by: 1,461 to be exact. She hadn't gotten any news. She'd have preferred to hear he was dead than go unknowing. Sometimes she wondered if she should go after him, but she had two three-year-old fraternal twins to look after, and she couldn't just leave them. But pretty soon they'd start asking questions. They'll eventually want to know who their 'daddy' is. Why don't they have one? What would she say to them? 'Sorry kids you have no father because he left me to fight four years ago and never came home?' You can't tell children that. They needed a father figure - someone to look up too. These kids had no one, except her. She did her best to act as both parents, but it was hard. It really was. She didn't know how single mothers did it for their whole lives.

She lay down on her side of the bed and picked up his pillow. She hugged it close to her chest and breathed in the scent of him, that even after all these years, still remained on the pillow. It was barely there, but it was comforting. It was as she was lying there she felt her eyes burning and they flew open just as the floodgates seemed to open. Her tears fell for hours it seemed and she just lay there, not sure of how to calm herself.

She pulled a thin gold chain out from under his shirt. She wore both of their wedding rings and her engagement ring on this chain, close to her heart. He hadn't taken his ring to war in the risk of loosing it. She didn't mind. It was just one more piece of him she had to hold onto. He was upset at leaving it, but they both knew that such small trinkets were nothing compared to the power of their love. They didn't need these rings to symbolize their relationship.

Surely this war would end soon, right? I mean, could you even call this a war? Yes, there were a few remaining death eaters, but how many could there really be? And where would they get their power now, since Voldemort was long gone. Maybe, just maybe, he would finally be home soon and she wouldn't have to wonder and worry anymore.

She awoke and turned over as the sunlight blared through the window into her eyes. She noticed his side of the bed, and how the sheets were not even tousled from her nights sleep, and sighed. Another night alone. She slipped her feet onto the cold hard wood floor and shivered, walking into her children's room. She awoke both and pushed them into adjacent bathrooms as she readied herself. The two walked into the kitchen and struggled to feed them both breakfast. Once that was done, she strapped them into the car and they headed off; she dropped them off at the daycare and headed to her job.

She walked into the lobby of the Daily Prophet offices and flashed a fake, yet realistic looking smile as the peppy receptionist said 'hi'. Pulling open the door to her own office, where the sports column was written, she sat down to begin writing about the latest Quidditch game between Ireland and London.

After putting the kids to bed that evening, she curled up on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and a blanket covering her from the waist down. She pressed the on button on her remote and smiled as she saw that The Sound Of Music was playing; it was one of her favorites. It was a beautiful love story entwined with the tragedy of war and great music as well. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as she began to grow weary. She scooted down on the couch until her head rested on the armrest. She soon drifted off to sleep and the blanket slipped off her, yet, when she awoke the next morning it was tucked around her neck, covering her entire body.

She awoke the next morning and smiled. She felt…whole, for some reason. She tried to sit up and realized that the blanket was tucked under both her arms and preventing her from sitting. Releasing herself, she stretched and yawned as her mind began whirling. Even early in the morning, she couldn't have a moment's peace. How was it that when she fell asleep, she was only covered with the blanket from the waist down, yet, when she awoke she was fully covered. She shrugged it off, sticking to a simple answer: she had pulled it up herself. She chose to ignore the fact that she was in the same position when she awoke as when she slept.

She showered, readied herself for another day, and stepped out into the kitchen. Just as she was about to beginning preparing breakfast for her and the kids, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, can you come over here. Like…now?"

"Well, I have to drop the kids off first. I can be there in 15 minutes, give or take a few. Is that ok?"

"Yes, that's fine."

After this all she heard was a click, signaling the other person had hung up. Cleaning up the mess she had made by starting to prepare pancakes, she conjured up a biscuit for each of the children and then dropped them off at the nursery. She then apparated off to see what the big hurry was.

"So, what was the rush to get over here?" she asked as she pulled her jacket off, smiling at the warmth coming from the fireplace. The other woman walked over to her, a piece of parchment in hand.

"Read this." She said as she stuffed the parchment into our leading lady's hands.

'Dear Hermione, I have good news, and I have bad news. The bad news is I forgot our anniversary, and therefore, have nothing for you. I am terribly sorry, can you forgive me? I hope. The good news is…are you ready? We're coming home. See you at Kings Cross, the usual platform, tomorrow at 3 PM. - Ron'

She squealed in delight and glanced at the clock. It was 1:45. They would have to hurry if they would make it to Kings Cross in time.

The two woman ran out of the car, slamming the doors, and ran up the stairs into the general, busy lobby of Kings Cross Train Station. She glanced at a clock: 2:56 PM. They had to run if they were going to be there waiting for them. The question was, were they going to be able to get onto the platform without anyone seeing them? They would have to risk it. They ran at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, feeling the familiar sensation of walking through a brick wall. They made it through just as the train pulled into the station.

They waited, and they waited, and they waited, and still no sign of the two men they were looking for. Finally, after about 15 minutes of waiting, she smiled. Two men had just stepped off the train, duffel bags swung over their shoulders. They spotted the two women and ran to them, arms open.

She smiled as she felt the two familiar, loving arms wrap around her. She melted into her husband's embrace and smiled, pulling the chain out from underneath her shirt and taking their rings off.

"Have you had these around your neck all four years?" he chuckled as she blushed slightly.

"Yes, of course."

"So, where are my two darling children?" he looked behind her and saw nothing.

"I dropped them off at daycare. I didn't know you were coming home today! Hermione surprised me. She just asked me to come over, no reason or anything. But…I'm so glad she did." She started crying as she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. He pet her back lovingly and stroked her hair.

"Shh, its ok. I'm back now, and I won't ever leave you Ginny."

"I know, Harry. I know. I love you, and I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too…" he faded off. Everyone else had long left; the train had pulled out of the station as well. Neither of them noticed. They were too caught up in the burning passion of a relationship that had been quite one-sided (not literally, of course, but it did seem like it while they were alone).

And you know what? Even though Ron and Hermione had long since left them, they couldn't care in the slightest bit.

-------------------

Note: I'm not completely sure if this flows well. I had song lyrics in this one, too. I hope it's okay without them...