Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling

How Do You Know?

Jean Granger sat at the kitchen table and considered the young man that sat in front of her. He seemed to be contemplating the table top rather seriously. He was quite a sight, truth be told. He had wild, unkempt black hair that categorically refused to behave. There was a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and he wore an eye patch over his right eye. If the scarring around the patch were any indicator, he had earned the right to wear the patch in a very gruesome manner.

This was the young man who had shown up with Hermione to collect them in Australia. After Hermione had restored their memories, they had been introduced softly to the one person that they had heard more about from their daughter than anyone else. Harry Potter had come to their home.

She glanced across into the other room. Hermione was asleep in a recliner, her face relaxed at last. There had been some rather drastic changes in their daughter as well. She was a couple of inches shorter than they remembered, and the horrific scar across her throat spoke of a lesson in selective violence. Then there were the ears…

Hermione had explained to them, well Hermione and Harry had explained to them that they had taken part in a war in the wizarding world. It had been Harry and his forces against a Dark Lord who for some reason wanted Harry dead. She shuddered to think that they could have lost their little girl, and the saddest part was that they wouldn't have even realized it.

It was then that she realized that Harry had asked her something. "What was that Harry?" she inquired, ashamed that she had been lost in her own thoughts.

"How do you know when you're in love?" Harry repeated.

Jean Granger sat back and considered the young man. From what Hermione had told them over the years, Harry had no experience with love. He had been raised by abusive relatives who hated his very existence. That he had Hermione in his life seemed to be the one thing that kept Harry grounded.

"Harry," she started, "when you're in love you can't seem to be at peace unless you are with the person that you love. You think about their happiness more than your own. You want nothing more than to see them happy, to see the smile, and when they do, it is the bright shining light of your world. You would do anything to make them happy, even if it meant giving them up, or sacrificing yourself for them"

Harry nodded. He seemed to be taking all of it in. "So how long have you felt that way about my daughter?" she asked softly. He started when the words sunk in.

"Erm… for a long time now. Years at least. I think quite possibly since first year." He looked at the woman that so reminded him of his Hermione.

Jean reached out and gently took one of Harry's hands in her own. It surprised her just how calloused it was. "Can you tell me what happened to the two of you? How did you get hurt so badly. I see how you walk, Harry. Only a serious injury makes a man walk with such a profound limp."

Harry sighed. He seemed to be going through some sort of internal debate. Finally he nodded. "We were almost done with our quest. We had just finished destroying a series of magical artifacts that were keeping Voldemort, the Dark Lord, tethered to this world. We were searching for him when we found someone else.

"There was this very dark wizard who was also a werewolf. His name was Fenrir Greyback. He was responsible for the biting of a very large number of children, making them into monsters like himself. Anyway, Hermione and I came across him patrolling around the grounds of the Manor where Voldemort had hidden himself. To tell the truth, he surprised us.

"Unlike most wizards, Greyback liked to be physically violent. He was inhumanly fast, so fast that I couldn't defend myself when he struck. He slashed my hamstring with a cursed blade. There is no cure for such a wound. While I was writhing on the ground, he jumped on top of me and did this to me." He motioned to his eye.

"How?" she asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

"With his teeth. He bit my eye right out of my head. I've never known such agony."

"You're not going to become like him?" she asked. "Are you?"

"No," Harry answered. He wasn't transformed at the time. The wound is tainted though. Another permanent reminder of what we've been through. Anyway, Hermione had recovered her wand from where Greyback had knocked it from her, and she blasted him off of me. We were just about to escape when He flung another dagger at us. Hermione took it in the throat. I disapparated us out of there, but I had no supplies, and I wasn't skilled at healing." He looked at Jean, a grave expression on his face.

"When we got to where we were going, I almost gave up hope. Hermione was critically injured, and I was in complete agony from my own wounds. It was then that they found us."

"Who?"

"Two house elves, Dobby and Winky. They had been looking for us for a long time. We had been warding our location, and we had gotten so good at it that it was even keeping the elves from finding us. I hadn't had time to put up wards this time, and I don't even think that I could have if I had thought of it. I was really hurt."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Hermione was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it." Jean let out a gasp. "Winky saw how much I was suffering over it, and she decided to do something about it. House elves have very powerful magic. They have a lot of restrictions on what they can do with it, but their magic is among the most powerful in the world.

"Winky healed her. She did it by giving her magic to Hermione." There were tears streaming down Harry's cheek now. "A house elf cannot live without her magic. Winky sacrificed herself to save 'Mione. I watched one friend die that another might live. I've hated myself since then, because Merlin help me, I was actually happy that Winky had died…"

"Oh Harry, I had no idea…"

"The dagger damaged Hermione's voice box," Harry said quietly. She can't talk above a whisper. "And, she's become more elfin in appearance. Surely you've noticed…"

Jean nodded. She had to admit that Hermione was very nicely proportioned, waif-like but with cute curves. She had shrunk a little, and seemed even more dainty. Her face was a little more angular now, and she had the cutest little pointed tips to her ears. Her hair, which had been so bushy before, now hung down in ringlets along her back.

She looked over at her daughter. The poor young woman had been through so much, but she had returned to them, alive. It was more than many parents could say. She looked at Harry. "Have you told her?" Harry shook his head no.

"You must tell her Harry, she needs to know how you feel."

"I can't. I'm damaged goods. Who would want to be with me now?" He looked so miserable.

"So is she," Jean whispered. "And I know that she'd want you. After all, you want her…" She motioned over to her daughter. "Go, wake her, tell her that you want to have lots of little Harrys and Hermiones running around. She'll not reject you, I know."

Harry nodded mutely. Like a man who had no control over himself, he rose stiffly from the table, to limp over to the recliner where Hermione lay. He knelt down next to her and once again he seemed to be fighting an internal battle. He finally leaned over and lightly kissed her on the lips.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She looked at her best friend, her eyes meeting his one good one. She raised her eyebrows at him. He smiled warmly at her.

"I have something to tell you Hermione, and it's hard for me, alright?" She nodded. "You've been the only constant in my life for the last seven years now. I've tried to push you away, and you wouldn't let me. I've tried to protect you, just as you've done the same for me. I wish that you'd never gotten hurt because of me, but you're still here despite everything.

"What I'm trying to say is two-fold. First off, thank you so much for sticking with me. You could have walked away anytime, and I would have let you because what you want is so much more important to me than my own wishes.

"Secondly, your Mum convinced me that I had something even more important to tell you." He gulped and gathered his courage. "I'm in love with you, Hermione. I have been for a very long time now. I just didn't understand what it was until I talked with your Mum. I need you in my life, and I'm not going to take no for an answer this time."

He leaned in and kissed her, softly, gently, and as only someone completely, utterly in love can. Very shortly after his lips met hers, she was returning his kiss, her passion causing his to rise and meet it. The both of them were completely oblivious to the fact that her mother was sitting there witnessing the entire thing.

A small cough startled them out of their self-imposed world. They looked at each other and then at her mother, sheepish expressions on their faces. With a giggle, Hermione gripped his hand in hers. He leaned in and whispered softly, so that only her newly enhanced hearing could pick up.

"Marry me."

Author's Note: Just a little plot bunny that wouldn't die. I had to put it down in writing. I hope you liked it. I don't think it was my best effort, but sometimes you've got to write it or it drives you nuts.