Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Obviously.
. . . . . . . . . .
"Am I your dirty little secret?" she whispers, tracing her fingers across his chest.
He doesn't know how to respond to that, and she knows. He never can hide anything from her.
"Of course I am," she sighs, head leaning against his shoulder. "What else would I be?"
"My wife," he says, the words coming out of his mouth almost against his will. He turns his head and presses a kiss against her hair. "We could be married."
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," she smiles. "Where would we live?"
"Grimmauld Place," he says. "You would terrorize Kreacher into submission, and clean the place up. No more house elf heads on the walls. No more Dark magic lurking in the corners."
"I could make it a home."
They close their eyes, imagining.
"Would you wear white to our wedding?" he asks eventually.
"Of course," she giggles. "I'd be the bride."
"The prettiest woman there."
"Not if we invite Ginny Weasley," she sneers, covering up pain with malice. "Or Hermione Granger. Or Lavender Brown. Or Astoria Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass. Millicent Bulstrode, for that matter."
"You'd still outshine every woman there."
"Could I wear a veil?"
"Of course," he tells her. "And I'll get you a diamond ring to put on your finger, just before we say our vows."
"Honeymoon in Venice," she says, dreamily tracing a picture in the air with her fingertips. "Fine wine, gondolas…"
"You've never been," he chuckles.
"No matter," she dismisses his qualms. "It can be our adventure."
"Will our first child be a boy or a girl?"
"A girl," she says decidedly. "I won't have a boy lording it over my beautiful little Lily."
"Lily?" he says in a questioning tone.
"Of course," she replies softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. "The perfect name for a perfect girl."
"Will we have another?"
"We'll have three," she tells him. "Lily, of course. Then a son. James. And then another son. Severus."
"No," he groans. "Any name, love. Anything but Severus."
She laughs out loud, then quiets. They both freeze, his hand creeping toward the invisibility cloak lying beside him. After a few minutes with no sign of anyone hearing them, they relax into each other once more.
"It's never going to happen," she says sadly.
"Elope with me?" he says, half-joking.
"I'll make you a deal," she says. "Survive the war. Then we can talk about the future."
"Okay," he whispers. "Okay."
He sits up, grabbing his shoes and his shirt. He throws them on quickly, then reaches for his cloak.
"Am I your dirty little secret?" he hears her ask again in a forlorn little voice. He looks back at her, huddled up in the covers on her bed.
He leans over the sheets, and kisses her, long and sweet. "For now, you're my secret," he says. "But never dirty."
"And later?"
"Later, after…when it's safe…I'll put that diamond ring on your finger and show the world that you're mine."
"And you are mine, Harry Potter."
"I love you, Pansy Parkinson."
Harry threw the cloak over his head, disappearing into the shadows. He almost missed her whisper as he exited the Slytherin girls' dorms.
"Be safe…"
One day they would both be safe. And one day they would be free.
. . . . . . . . . .
a/n: Review:)