"Mrs. Longbottom, what are you doing? Come back to bed! Don't let me all cold on our first night as a married couple!" Neville shouted down the hallway to his wife, Hannah, who could be heard rummaging through boxes in their living room.

Yes, they had just gotten married that morning. It was a lovely ceremony, but very quiet, about 50 guests attended. The reception went well also, with everybody laughing and dancing. So many couples were getting married these days, with Voldemort gone, everyone felt safe to love freely and with all their hearts. Each wedding was a reminder of the power of love that could defeat all evil. And it was a lovely fall day. The sun was shining and it was cool but not frighteningly cold. Neville knew it was the best day of his life. He had married the woman of his dreams, his sweet and tender Hannah. She was patient and kind, giving him all of her heart. And was she ever gorgeous. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have ended up with a woman like her.

She let out a cry of joy and she bounded back to the bedroom. She was still in her wedding dress, and refused to take it off even though it was nearly 1 in the morning. She was radiant. Her dress was quite simple, a one shouldered gown that put Greek goddesses to shame. Her chestnut hair was lightly curled and her face was practically void of all makeup, the way that Neville loved to see her. She was a natural beauty, with her wide brown eyes and shy smile, he couldn't imagine any girl more beautiful.

She ran in and jumped onto the bed, carrying a stack of what appeared to be letters. "I found them," she breathed lightly.

"Found what?" Neville asked, confused.

"Well, when I was about 8 years old, it was my parent's anniversary. And of course I was curious, so I asked what an anniversary was. They got into all the details about how it was like a birthday, but it was about the day you got married, and how being married is the greatest thing because you get to spend your life with the person you love most. Of course, I compared it to marrying Prince Charming, because what little girl doesn't want to become a princess? Anyways, this year, they re-wrote some new vows for each other, and it gave me an idea. So I raced down the hall, got out my favorite parchment and crayons, and vowed that every year I would write a letter to my future husband. And I did. Every year, on my parent's anniversary, I wrote you a letter. Of course, I didn't know it would be you, but anyways, here," she handed them all to her.

They were dated on the front, by the year, and were tied together with a small blue ribbon. He pulled it off, and pulled the first envelope off of the top of the stack. He opened it, and read aloud.

"Hello, Prince Charming. It is me, Hannah. I am eight and I want you to marry me. Mommy and Daddy say that the day you get married is the best day ever, but I think they're liars because I went to Disney world this year, and that was the best day ever. The only way you can be better is if you have a castle. A really really big castle. And a tiara with lots of jewels. Can I have a pony too! If I'm a princess I need a pony. And a magic hairbrush. That's all Prince Charming, we better meet soon so I can become a Princess! Love, Hannah."

"I'm very sorry to inform you that I don't have a pony for you Hannah," he joked.

"Oh hush," she nudged him, giggling, "C'mon keep reading them," she urged.

He picked up the next envelope and opened it.

"I don't know why I keep writing these stupid things any more. Mom and Dad divorced this year. I'm only fourteen and I know they try their hardest to keep me from noticing, but I can see the way they look at each other like they can't stand each other. I can hear them fighting when they think I'm asleep. They think I'm naive and I wont understand. There's no such thing as love, that much I know. They said being married was the best thing that ever happened to them, but look at what a mess it's been. Half the time mom isn't even sober anymore. If this is what love is, I want no part of it. Even though I'm at Hogwarts now, I still can hear the shouts in my dreams. It's a never ending nightmare. They're forever engrained into my brain. There will probably never be a recipient of these letters, and there's no point in writing them. Somebody probably found these under my bed and thought it would be funny, and if that's you reading them, I hope you're having fun. Laugh at my childish dream, I don't care. Because love doesn't last, and I refuse to ever put someone else through the pain I suffer now."

"Hannah," Neville grabbed her hand, "if I had known back then that you felt this way, I-" but she cut him off.

"I never told anyone about my parents. They knew they got divorced, but I never told anyone about this. At least, not until I told you. But, look at us. We're here, we're married now. And all that doubt inside me is gone Neville. I didn't think love was real because all I saw in that house was a prison of lies and deceit. But we've been through so much worse. I'm not in that prison anymore, and I'm never going back."

He loved her. He really, truly did. In that moment, there was no doubt. He saw their future, getting a bigger house, spending their nights together, their first child, then a second and maybe a third. Moving to a bigger home with maybe a dog or cat, watching the kids go to school and grow up. Growing old together, spending their retirement sitting on the front porch, admiring the beauty around them. Seeing their grandchildren. It all flashed in his mind, in that single moment.

Hannah would never ever give up on him, and he wouldn't give up on her. That's what love is, sticking it out when times are hard because its about the good and the bad.

"I love you so much, Hannah Longbottom, I really do," and he kissed her.

She kissed him back, unless she pulled away and said, "read the next one." So, he opened the next envelope.

"Voldemort has control of Hogwarts. It seems there is no hope nowadays, Prince Charming. I wish you could rescue me from this place. It's always dark and scary. I'm relatively safe because I'm almost pureblood, and I keep my head down. But I'm tired of it. I'm trying to be strong for the other girls in the dormitory. I keep out of trouble with the teachers, yes, but I've been trying to help everyone out. Whether it's healing a first year with bad bruises and cuts from detention, or helping some Gryffindors out with making salve out of the herbology ingredients, I'm trying. They're leading a resistance, you know, some of the Gryffindors. I fear for them, they're all quite brave and strong, but can be reckless. It's all for the greater good, yes, but sometimes they come to see me with wounds I cannot heal. And I want to break down and cry, but I can't. Other girls in the dormitory have it worse than me. Poor Chelsey's parent's have been taken to the ministry for questioning, and Clara's parents were killed last week. And the young ones, the first years, they need someone to be strong for them. Their parents try sending mail, but they've been so strict on what gets through the post that they rarely get any communication. I feel like a mother hen, and I'm putting on a brave face, but I'm no Gryffindor. It's hard, and I feel like I'm slowly deteriorating. I remember when I was little, long before the days of Hogwarts, when I would cry. I would lock myself in my room and bawl into my pillow. But my Dad, my loving and kind Dad, he would knock on the door. And I would scream the most terrible things, "I hate you," and "Go away!". But he always came back. Sometimes it would be a few minutes later, sometimes less. He would knock again. And no matter what I shouted, he came back. Sometimes, he would stick his fingers under my door and wiggle them, or he'd sing a little song. And when he convinced me to let him in, he'd sit next to me on my bed and make jokes and tickle me until I felt better again, and we'd go into the kitchen and make lunch or dinner together. Prince Charming, I need you to come and sit outside my door and wait for me. Wait for me to let you in, and be patient. I need you to tickle me and tell me jokes until I smile. But please, please don't leave. I'm so scared that I'll never find someone who stays. Please, please stay. When I slam the door, sit outside until I finally calm down. When I yell and scream, don't run away. Everybody else has left. Mom's in France, Dad's gone. Dad left me, not by choice, but he's gone. He can't come back. Who do I have left. You aren't even real, and it doesn't seem that I'll live through this war. I'll die, probably at random in a street, and nobody will even notice. I need you now Prince Charming. I need some hope. I've been writing letters for 9 years, and you've never shown up. I am losing hope. Please hurry. Please."

"I will never, ever leave you," he whispered. "I will wait for you until the sun stops shining and for as long as I live. I will sit outside your door for weeks if that's what it takes. There is no way you will ever get rid of me," he said, holding her hand. She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Do you remember," he asked, "that year when I came to you. I was making that salve for burns, and I knew how to make it, but only the Hufflepuffs had the ingredients for it. And remember, you were the only one who would let me into the common room," she nodded, tears now streaming down her cheeks, "you were so brave that day. Nobody else would have let me in, they knew they would get in trouble. But you didn't care. You let me in, and you even showed me other plants that could help with different types of cuts and scrapes. Don't you remember?"

"Well, love, that was the day. I remember it oh so clearly, because I knew I had seen you around before, and I hoped that since we were acquaintances, you would be the person to let me in. I'd asked a few other people, but they'd all said no. But you were different, you invited me in and you even helped out a lot. I could see it in you, you were kind. And that was the day I really saw you Hannah. That was the day I knew that someday we'd get married. I just couldn't do it yet, with the war and all, but I thought of you, every day. And I am not leaving, not now, not ever."

She loved him fiercely. Every part of him was goodness. He was brave and warm and everything she ever wanted. She could imagine no other person to spend the rest of her life with.

He thought she was an angel, sent down from heaven. With her dress on, she might as well have sprouted wings and gone away. She had such a loving and beautiful soul. There was not one day that he could live without her.

She'd been scarred before, there was no doubt, but the fact that she still gave her whole self to him, without fear, was what let him know that they were in it together. He wouldn't mind spending his whole life with her fearlessly standing beside him.