Disclaimer: Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, and all the rest of the characters here belong to JKR. No infringement intended.

Author's Note: Happy Epilogue Day, everyone! Now we get to find out what really happened. Note there are a couple crucial facts that are not explicitly stated or referenced in the original DH epilogue, which allowed this chapter to begin as it does. (Here any subsequent clarifications by JKR were ignored; the literal text is accepted as canonical.)

Apologies for the length, but there's a lot to cover. And rather than having a few more chapters of angsty awfulness tracing the past two years, it's summarized in a couple extended flashbacks here, so we can get past all of that.

Note: Rated M for some adult situations toward the end. Nothing too overtly explicit, but things might get heated... and a bit silly.

Also, Harry and Hermione deserve their own (brief) epilogue after putting up with all of this. Look for that as the final chapter after this one.

Chapter Ten: Wish Fulfillment

Nineteen months later... September 1, 2017

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. A woman in a long light-colored coat emerged from the lobby door and was surprised by the chill. She pulled her collar together. As crisp as an apple, she thought to herself.

"Come along, Rose!" she called. "Your father's running late, but he'll be here any minute. We can't miss the train." A boy came through the doorway and took her hand. She smiled softly down at him. A moment later the girl stepped out, nodding to the doorman who helped her struggle with a large trunk. The three stood outside only a minute before a car pulled up.

"Bloody hell, the traffic in this part of town is awful!" the slightly balding redhead exclaimed as he got out.

The brown-haired woman shook her head, laughing. "I told you we could have just taken a cab." Ron began to load the luggage into the car and opened the doors for the children. Hermione walked over and put her hand on his. "Are you sure you're all right?" She glanced at the car.

"I passed the test with flying colors, I'll have you know. Besides, I really wanted to do this, for all of us." Ron looked off into the distance, and her look of concern turned into a small smile. He saw her expression change from the corner of his eye. "Well, come on then!"

A minute later they were all in the car, as Ron navigated the downtown traffic. Hermione gradually relaxed; he was actually better at driving than she had imagined. "It's good to see you looking so well. How are things at the store?" she asked.

"Brilliant. Business is better than as ever. And the three foreign shops we opened are doing terrific. George is barely able to keep up inventory with all the orders." He smiled, though he was concentrating on the road, continuously shifting his eyes among all the mirrors.

"It was a great idea, Ron. I'm so glad you're finally finding some success."

"Well, it's good, but it's not like you..." His smile thinned, and she looked out the window. They fell into silence for a few minutes.

The children stirred in the back seat. "How much longer will it be, Mum?" asked Hugo. "I'm starting to feel a bit ill."

Hermione cracked open the car window. "Just a little while." She looked over at Ron. "So, they're going to be there, right?"

"As far as I know, they're bringing the whole crew."

She thought back to a conversation they had had so long ago in their kitchen at their old house. She squeezed his shoulder. "I'm happy you did this. It will be a bit awkward, but I'm glad we can all still do this together."

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stood together on the platform. They had found each other several minutes ago and had recently spotted Draco Malfoy. Harry looked over, and Draco nodded to him, before turning away.

James ran up to them, out of breath. "Teddy's back there. Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire." None of the adults said anything, though Hermione suppressed a grin as she sighed softly to herself. "Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing-"

"You interrupted them?" said Ginny. Her eyes went briefly to her brother, but then settled on Harry and Hermione, now standing close together, side-by-side. "You are so like Ron-"

"...And he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's snogging her!"

"Oh it would be lovely if they got married!" Lily whispered, her voice rhapsodic. "Teddy would really be a part of the family then!"

"He already comes round for dinner about four times a week," Harry said. "Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?"

They continued discussing Teddy for a moment, but it was soon time for the children to board the train. Rose and James said their goodbyes, but things did not go as smoothly with Albus. He finally whispered to Harry, "What if I'm in Slytherin?"

Harry and Ginny shared a look. I'm glad we're both here for him right now, he thought. Harry let out a deep breath as he crouched down to talk privately with his son, his mother's green eyes staring back at him. "Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin, and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew." Harry's view of Snape had become more clouded in the past year, though he still greatly admired his sacrifices. But now was not the time for Albus to doubt the source of his middle name.

"But just say-"

"Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."

"Really?"

Harry realized he had never told anyone of his conversation with the Sorting Hat. He whispered even more quietly, "It did for me." Albus raised his eyebrows, but then sighed as he looked down, now sad again at the thought of leaving. Harry reached out and lifted his chin, smiling lovingly at his son. "Here's lookin' at you, kid." Harry clapped him lightly on the shoulder. Albus rolled his eyes before boarding the train.

All the children were now on board, and the four adults, along with Hugo and Lily, stood together, waving farewell. Everyone seemed to be staring in their direction, but Harry and Hermione paid them little notice.

As the train rounded a corner, Harry was still thinking of his younger son. Ginny's voice came softly from next to him, "He'll be alright."

Harry looked over at her and sighed, finally lowering the hand he had raised to say goodbye. We made it through this and worse, and we'll always be there for him together. He raised his arm to run his fingers through his hair, but hesitated as he felt his scar, yet another reminder of injuries now past. Things do heal with time. "I know he will," he finally said.

"CUT! Did we get all of that?" yelled a small man several yards away down the platform. A seated cameraman nodded. "Good. This will make a great finale to our Potter Chronicles series, seeing the next generation off to school. Good job, everyone! That's a wrap!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all heaved a huge sigh. Lily and Hugo ran down the platform to see whether they could get a final glance at the train. They paid little attention to the camera crew, who were now packing up.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter!" The director came running up to Harry. "Everything was great! I think we'll just need to do a few edits for time, but we followed the script almost perfectly..."

Harry furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? What script? We just said goodbye to our kids going off to school." Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were equally confused.

"Oh, I thought you knew about it." The director motioned to a young female assistant, who handed over a few pages. "A decade ago, back when you first did one of these short family films for us, a witch sent in a prediction she had foreseen of your family heading off to Hogwarts. What was her name? A bunch of initials, I think. She said she had a great wish to see all of you together like this, and the vision just came to her. Anyhow, we used it to plan some shots today, but even I was surprised at the accuracy of this prophecy. The visuals and dialogue almost all lined up."

Ron was shaking his head in wonder. "Bloody hell. You mean, someone predicted our future nearly perfectly?"

"No, no. Certainly not the details of your lives. But prophecies are always a bit murky that way, you know? The details you do see can be misleading." He was skimming through the script again, muttering to himself. "Yes, everything was great, except for that ad lib, Mr. Potter." The director turned to his assistant. "We can edit that out, right?" The assistant nodded.

"What are you talking about an ad lib?" Harry's confusion was turning into annoyance.

"Uh, what was the phrase? 'Here's lookin' at you, kid'?"

"It's a great line!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes.

"Well, we planned the timings according to the script, so we'll just fix it all in post-production. Again, thanks to you all. Great work, people!" He turned abruptly and headed off, barking to his assistant, who was furiously taking notes.

The four were left behind, standing side-by-side and a bit stunned that they had been unknowingly following a script. Ginny finally spoke, "Well, I don't know what all this is about, but that's over with. Your idea was a pain in the arse, Ron, though given everything that has happened the past couple years, I think it was good to have us together like this. Hopefully it will keep Skeeter and the other tabloid jerks from speculating on our lives for a while."

Harry turned to her. "Ginny, I'm glad we still could do this, together."

Ginny shook her head and smiled softly, before she took his hand and squeezed it. "You know we're okay, right? Just because we're not living together anymore doesn't mean we don't care what happens. We'll be there for the kids, and for our families. That hasn't changed for me."

Harry nodded. "I know. I'm just sor-"

"No, Harry. Stop. It just happened, and it wasn't meant to be." Ginny sighed again as she looked in the direction of the train, now far in the distance. "Listen, I'll take the kids for a few minutes and head back to the car. You have your 'Hogwarts trio' moment without the cameras rolling, okay?"

Now only three remained on the platform, silently watching the final remnants of smoke dissolve. "So much for divination being a load of bullshit, eh?" said Harry. Hermione gave him a playful shove on his shoulder.

They stared for another few moments, before she reached out and took a hand from each of them in her own. "Well, we made it. Things may not have always gone the way we expected, but it means a lot to me that the three of us are standing here together."

She released Harry's hand and turned to Ron, giving him a warm hug, which Ron somewhat awkwardly returned. She pulled back and said quickly, "I need to get going. I should check in at the Ministry this morning. Hugo's going with you and your parents for the next few days, right?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be weird for him."

Hermione shook her head, eyes a bit watery. "I know. But it'll be good for him at the Burrow with family. And I'm sure Ginny will bring Lily by?" She looked to Harry, who gave a gentle nod of encouragement.

With a sigh, she now turned and took both of Harry's hands in hers. "And you..." She composed herself and put on a smile. "You're still coming over for dinner tonight?" He couldn't help smiling in reply. "Good. We need to catch up on some things, and I might have a surprise for you." She grinned mischievously, then quickly leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "I really have to go! See you later."

And with a crack, she disapparated, leaving Harry grinning like an idiot, hands still held up where hers had just been. He closed his eyes just for a moment to relive the warm feeling on his cheek.

"Why don't you two just get a room already?" Ron's voice abruptly broke into Harry's thoughts.

"What? Ron, I mean-" He was completely flustered.

"Don't tell me I'm delusional this time, mate. Everyone else sees the two of you like always, with your platonic little hugs and kisses and hand-holding. But I can tell something's been changing with you the past few months."

"We never..." Harry stammered. "That is, we haven't done-"

"Do you think I can't see that too! Harry, I've known both of you for over twenty-five years. And for most of that time, I saw two best friends who had a weird tendency toward continuous public displays of affection. But this is different now. I may have had my suspicions years ago, but that was part of my own insecurity that I needed to work on. A few years of counseling have done wonders for that, by the way..."

"Yeah, I can tell. Twins, Ron?" Harry let out a chuckle.

Ron was aghast. "The Daily Prophet blew that whole thing last week out of proportion! I didn't even know! One minute I was telling old war stories to a lovely young woman in a pub. Then I went to the bar for another beer, and when I came back, they had swapped on me. Two beers later, and I thought I was seeing double. But then the two of them were leading me out of the pub together, which is where that photo came from." Ron was hanging his head. "I didn't even do anything with them, just had a few drinks. I'm just glad Hermione managed to hide the morning paper before the kids could see it."

Harry was still laughing. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You deserve some fun, anyhow. It's time you got on with your life."

Ron now looked up at Harry with a serious expression. "You're the one to talk! Look, whether you two bloody morons know it or not, you have been making lovey-dovey eyes at each other for months now. I may not be the big hero or the super-smart one in this friendship, but I can just feel the tension oozing off of the two of you."

Harry's face became serious, too. "I'm not sure what to do, Ron. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Not you, not Ginny, not the kids, not her..." He didn't quite know what to say. "She and I... we never-"

"Harry," Ron interrupted. "I don't know what went on with the two of you in the past, but I know you would never hurt Ginny or me. Hell, my marriage wouldn't have lasted half as long without you helping us through our squabbles. And that's why I need to return the favor, mate. I can't deny there's a part of me that feels really weird about this, but she and I have been done for years now. There's no sense wasting even more time."

Harry was still fidgeting, one of his hands anxiously squeezing the back of his neck. Ron felt like he wasn't getting through. "Hey, you remember that night at the Leaky Cauldron before we got married?" Harry nodded. "Do you love her?" Harry stared down for a long time, before nodding slowly. Ron continued, "Of course you do. You always have, and now you just love her even more. Tell her."

"But Ginny-"

"Harry, it's over. You signed the papers months ago."

"She kept my name."

"Of course she did, mate. Everyone knows her as Ginny Potter. It's been her professional name for over a decade. And who wouldn't want the kind of attention it gets?" Harry sighed, but realized he was right. Ron continued, leaning in a bit, "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I'm pretty sure Ginny's already been hanging out with some former professional Quidditch captain. She doesn't want to hurt you either. But believe me, Harry, she's trying to move on."

Harry was somewhat taken aback by the news, but the shock passed quickly. "I do want her to be happy. But this isn't just some random woman for me here. It's Hermione."

"Yeah, well... Ginny always assumed the two of you shagged like bunnies when you were in that tent alone during the War anyway."

"WHAT!?"

Ron was now laughing loudly. "I'm kidding you. Well, sort of. We all thought something had to happen with you guys back then. All the tension of the War, two lonely teenagers together in the middle of nowhere... And with how close you were, I mean, come on. Point is, I don't believe Ginny's wild imagination anymore, but she wouldn't exactly be surprised if the two of you ended up together."

Harry was now lost in thought. He knew all of the rumors, but he never thought that even his friends – even his former wife – had believed them. But more importantly, he didn't know if he believed them, at least partly. He began to feel guilty that Ron didn't know about all of that, but how could he tell him? Harry didn't even know the whole truth himself.

Just then, Ginny appeared on the platform again, with the children in tow. "Are you two done reminiscing? The kids are getting restless."

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder as they started to walk toward their cars. He was now speaking quietly, "You need to look to yourself for once and not worry about anyone else. It's time, mate. Let her know. Because if you don't, I'm pretty sure the situation is going to explode sooner or later, which won't be good for anyone."

You have no idea, Harry thought.

Hermione arrived in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic and headed toward her office. Numerous wizards said passing greetings to her, to which she absently replied.

A sense of loss crept through her as she thought of Rose on the train. Although she didn't want to be too overprotective, she would have to make some excuse to head to Hogwarts one day next week to check on her. She thought back to the train platform, and the strange script for their morning came to her mind as well. She still had no idea what to make of that. The future can't be determined that precisely, can it? Surely we can make our own choices...

She then thought to James and the news about Teddy Lupin and Victoire, kissing goodbye on the platform. Hermione was thrilled for them, and it brought back her memory of two weeks ago...

Hermione was in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, cleaning dishes without magic. Sometimes she found it soothing to clean them the Muggle way, as she had as a child. Teddy wandered into the kitchen, bringing the last of the plates from the table. Harry was off getting all the kids ready for bed.

Teddy looked anxious as he took some clean glasses from her and began to dry them. "Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

Teddy hesitated, gathering courage. "How do you know if a girl wants to be more than friends?"

Hermione smiled to herself, as she moved some rinsed plates from one sink to the other. "Well, I'm probably not the expert on that question. I didn't exactly have the most typical teenage years. But if you're talking about Victoire, I'd say you have nothing to worry about."

Teddy blushed deeply. "But," he paused, "what I mean is – we've been friends for so long, and we're always together. I just don't know if she wants more than that, you know? And she's headed off to school soon..."

"I thought you two got together years ago. What about all that fuss at the Wizard World Cup?"

Teddy's face grew even deeper red than before. "Well, Skeeter was right that we were caught kissing. But it was only once, and it was our first time." He looked down. "I mean, it sounds hard to believe, but we were both inexperienced, and she thought we could try a sort of... kissing lesson, so we could learn together. After all the coverage in the press, we both freaked out, and we never talked about it again."

She looked over at him, now more serious. "Anyone can see from the way the two of you are together that you care about each other deeply. You've known each other for years. I can't tell you how she thinks, but I would wager that at least part of her feels the way you clearly do. Girls don't offer 'kissing lessons' to everyone, Teddy." A small smile crossed her lips and she shook her head. "Talk to her. With a friendship like yours, it will survive a lot of things." She looked back into the sink, before continuing. "Time passes before you know it. Don't miss your chance." Tears now threatened to cloud her vision, as she took a deep breath.

They continued washing and drying the dishes together for a couple minutes in silence. Finally, Teddy spoke up. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

A jolt went through her. "Who?"

"Harry." Her hands stopped moving. She swallowed hard. He continued, "I saw the two of you together, in the kitchen before dinner."

Hermione knew immediately what he meant. Earlier, she had been cutting vegetables, and Harry came up behind her. For the past few months, their families had been having dinner together frequently, and she was tired of Harry taking on most of the cooking duties. He had been giving her tips on some kitchen techniques, and tonight he had decided to show her how to slice the vegetables more quickly and efficiently. He stood behind her and put his arms around her, guiding her hands in his own. At some point his chin came to rest on her shoulder, and they had probably stood there for several minutes, eyes closed, relaxed in each other's touch.

"Teddy, Harry and I were just getting dinner ready, chopping some vegetables." She continued work on the dishes.

"That's always the way with the two of you, isn't it? You're always finding excuses, but for as long as I can remember, you were the closest people I ever knew. As a little boy, I remember the two of you, completely happy when you were together. I hoped – I hope that Victoire and I can have a friendship like that." He looked at over at her, uncertain about whether to continue. "Maybe I'm out of line here, but I know there's more than you tell everyone else. I can see it, and I worry about the two of you."

Hermione stopped again, looking into Teddy's eyes, which were filled with legitimate concern. She glanced back to the sink. "Even if what you said were true, that time is past. Our work won't allow..." She paused, not sure how to explain this. "... And we have families and children to worry about. They wouldn't understand."

He shook his head. "He is your family already. We're all family, don't you see? This summer Albus told me that Rose has been cheering you two on for years."

"My daughter...?" Hermione remembered the little girl, years ago, the one who brought their hands together as they stood in the snow. Lately, she had been bugging Hermione to spend more evenings and nights at Grimmauld Place.

"I mean, she loves her Dad of course, along with her time with him. But she knows you and Ron have been over for years. I think both she and Hugo like it better when you're happy."

Hermione shook her head. "It's too strange. You can't know how they'd really feel about this... Harry's their uncle..."

Teddy looked down at his hands, halting his drying. "You don't see him when you're not here. He loves his children more than anything in the world, but he gets this look at night when he doesn't think anyone's seeing him. It's like he failed. I've heard the stories about when he grew up, the awful family he had, and I know he wanted his children to have a perfect family. But since he and Ginny split up for good, he smiles for the kids, but seems more lonely than ever when he's by himself." Teddy's eyes grew sad. "It's one of the reasons I've been coming over for dinner so much: I lost my parents too, and I can't bear to think of him feeling alone, after all he's done for me..."

Hermione turned and put an arm around his shoulder, her eyes distant. "I didn't know..." She missed Harry profoundly too, but she hadn't realized how the finality of divorce must have impacted him.

"No, you've been busy the past couple months; he understands. He would never bother you because he wants you to succeed and not be worried about him. But I see his face change when he knows you're coming. He comes alive again when you're here. When all the children are playing together, when we're all laughing around the big table at dinner – even the kids see the difference. Tonight I was with Lily and Hugo before dinner as they were playing, and Lily said when we were all together, it felt like being at the Burrow with her other aunts and uncles and cousins." Teddy grew serious again. "It was probably toughest for her to visit Harry after he moved out. You know the Weasley household, always bustling with energy, and the kids always spent so much time there, even more so in the past couple years. Harry can't provide that sort of thing to his children by himself in this big house. Lily told me that when you're here, it's like one big happy family again."

Hermione's eyes now filled with tears; she fought to keep herself composed. "It's all so complicated. Teddy, you don't know..."

It was Teddy's turn to put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm probably the last person who should be giving advice to you. But for someone who could become a Minister for Magic so quickly, I can't imagine there's any obstacle you couldn't get past."

"Good morning, Minister." The Private Secretary's voice broke into her reminiscence. "I trust all went well sending off the children this morning?" Hermione looked about her, a bit dazed, before realizing she had already arrived in her outer office.

"Yes, everything was fine." Hermione was handed a stack of recent correspondence, which she began to thumb through.

"Very well, Minister. I had cleared most of your schedule for today, as I was not sure whether we would see you. Is there anything I should place on your agenda?"

Hermione stopped as she saw the address on one letter. She closed her eyes for a moment, as the corners of her mouth turned up in a familiar expression. "Yes, could you tell one of the assistants to send in some proper robes for me for meetings today? Also, I'll need some more of my private stationery right away, please. And tell the Deputy Head of Magical Law Enforcement to come by as soon as possible."

The Private Secretary proceeded to take some notes. "Yes, Minister. Shall I inform him of the subject for your meeting?"

"Tell him it's about planning for a special public event." She turned as a small smile emerged on her face. There was indeed a lot of work to get done today. She walked toward her office, a unusual girlish spring in her step along the way.

Harry buttoned up a shirt for the third time that evening. He had never in his life been concerned about clothes, but he had discarded two shirts already, deciding the first was wrinkled and the second had an odd color. He looked in the mirror and held up his dark jacket next to his side, judging the match of the colors. He frankly had no idea what he was doing; Ginny had always given him advice for clothes on any important occasion.

And his anxiety level certainly seemed to indicate that tonight was an important occasion, though some more rational part of him tried to deny it. He had known Hermione for decades, and he had had meals with her numerous times, so why did he feel like a teenager again, going out on a first date? It's true that they hadn't had dinner alone in several months, but it was really the kiss on his cheek she had given him at the platform that lingered in his thoughts. Although Ron had been right that they had been close the past few months, even hinting at kissing of any sort had been tacitly banned by them since that day in the Forest of Dean last year.

He thought back to the unprecedented roller coaster their relationship had been through since that day...

At first, she had tried to ignore him, but that was nearly impossible since Hermione had been one of his immediate superiors at work. Harry ultimately cornered her a couple weeks later after a meeting and told her he was trying hard with Ginny, and she need not be concerned.

Harry had felt some anguish over that day with Hermione. He realized that, despite their difficulties, Ginny and he deserved another chance, for their kids if nothing else. He couldn't possibly ignore their decades together; he still loved her dearly. At first, Ginny was skeptical, but they tried valiantly for several months, going out on weekly dates and even several weekends alone with each other.

Eventually, on their third weekend away alone, they ended up with absolutely nothing to talk about for over two hours at dinner their first evening. They still cared about each other, but they had simply grown apart: she was ever more occupied as a sports correspondent and obsessed with celebrities and public personas, while Harry wanted nothing more than to never be bothered by the press again, preferring staying in for a quiet evening rather than the parties Ginny attended for work functions. After that wordless dinner, they left their hotel without staying a night and silently returned home. The young love and attraction of two decades ago was no longer enough to hold them together, especially now as the kids were growing older. Two weeks later, admitting defeat, they agreed that he should move out permanently to Grimmauld Place.

About a month afterward, a random meeting about new dark wizards in Europe led Harry to confront Hermione alone again. Although he had often thought about their day in the Forest of Dean, he knew she wouldn't be willing to consider his proposal while he was still together with Ginny. But now he told her of his desire to attempt to hone their newfound magical resonance together, in case it might ever be necessary to fight other dark magic. He didn't dare to mention his silent hope: that they might learn to control the magic someday so they could become more intimate, if she were willing.

She had reluctantly joined him on a Saturday afternoon last October somewhere in the wilderness, and they began practicing with harmless charms and transfigurations. They had only mild success at first, but as he convinced her to focus on their happier times together, their magic began to coalesce. Soon, on every other weekend when they weren't with the children, they were meeting to practice with each other. They moved on to jinxes, hexes, defensive spells, and finally more powerful magic. Hermione could easily focus on Harry's energy to create a lightning bolt that would fell several large trees at once, then regrow them with an enhanced Herbivicus charm almost as quickly. And one day they even returned to the Forest of Dean, where Harry channeled Hermione's energy to successfully levitate the entirety of the lake far into the air for a few moments.

These efforts left the two of them sapped of energy, but the greater concern was the side effect that Hermione had identified that first day, which recurred with regularity. After casting and focusing on each other so intently, they felt an undeniable urge to embrace each other until their energies calmed again. They were afraid of this at first, worried of lighting another forest fire or something worse, but came to realize friendly affection didn't have such unpredictable results. And their embraces even seemed to reinforce their bond, allowing their proficiency with this new magic to grow more quickly.

Hugs that first lasted seconds grew to minutes then nearly a half hour. They took to returning to Grimmauld Place after their sessions, often having a quiet meal together and then sitting together for hours. Harry convinced her to try watching some Muggle movies, which helped to pass the time as they recovered. One night after a viewing of a new film for them, the epic Doctor Zhivago, which left them both nearly in tears, he hesitantly asked her to stay over in one of the guest rooms, and the next week he arranged a bed for her in the room next to his. As their sessions went on, their desire to be close to each other grew ever stronger, and even knowing she was in the next room gave him great comfort.

Other times they would talk for hours about anything and everything, and still other times she would just read silently sitting next to him, taking an occasional book from the large bookcase Harry had provided for her. They were now finding almost any excuse to spend a free evening together, occasionally even when their children were around. Harry knew that they had assumed a bizarre lifestyle, never speaking of their feelings for each other, but often cuddling together for several hours during their evenings together. Yet neither wanted to give it up: with two failed marriages, it was their silent comfort.

On the other hand, neither dared to move the boundaries from a friendly touch to a caress: that path seemed forbidden for so many reasons. Aside from their fear of another uncontrolled magical outburst, Hermione was his superior at work, making a public relationship awkward at best. And, for the moment, Harry was still married. At first, Ginny and Harry dragged their feet in getting the awkward process started, but then lawyers seemed to find new procedures each month to follow in dividing Harry's property and wealth. He and Ginny were both trying hard to be amicable, but divorce was uncommon among wizards to begin with, and the law dealing with old family inheritances was exceedingly complex.

One night in mid-April, after a particularly trying week at work, Hermione was unusually silent throughout their evening together, only cryptically responding to his inquiries. That night, she had shown up in his room, several minutes after they had finally separated from their habitual embrace to retire to their separate beds. She approached him in the darkness, and they stared wordlessly at each other, a look of distress on her face. She didn't need to ask; he didn't need to know. He pulled back the blankets on the other side of the bed, and she crawled in next to him. A second later, she was snuggled up to his side, sighing deeply as she placed her head on his chest, safe in his embrace. After a lingering contented silence together, they drifted off to sleep.

When Harry awoke the next morning, after the most restful sleep he could ever remember, she was already gone, though her scent lingered next to him. He found a note from her in the kitchen, next to a cappuccino and a croissant, saying simply:

I'm sorry if I troubled you. We won't be able to do this again for a while. I needed you to be there, as you always are and always have been for me. All my love, -H.

The very next day Harry had been called to Kingsley's office, where he was told that he would be receiving an unexpected promotion to become Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry was shocked, and protested that he was far too young, and if anyone deserved it, Hermione as Deputy Head obviously should be moved ahead of him. But Kingsley finally explained the mystery: a snap election had been called in Britain, and though the Ministry of Magic was not required to follow the schedule of Parliament, they often chose to do so. He had decided he had been Minister for too long; the Head of the Department was also stepping down. Kingsley planned to endorse Hermione as a candidate for Minister for Magic at a political event in a week's time, and he was confident that she could win. Kingsley trusted Harry completely with the Department and wanted him at the helm when he resigned as Minister. But with their close ties, there would be questions if Hermione promoted Harry; Kingsley needed to do it before he left.

Harry now understood it all, though it didn't prevent him from breaking into a full run to her office as soon as Kingsley finished shaking his hand. Harry flew past her assistant and without even knocking, he burst in. She was standing by her law books, holding one in her hands as she looked up in surprise. Without thinking, he ran over and immediately lifted her in his arms, swinging her about, momentarily taking her breath away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked as he pulled back, his arms still about her.

Hermione stared into his eyes, and a smile broke across her lips. "All the politicians and their dealing... They swore me to secrecy; I never want to keep things from you." She pulled her arms away, breaking contact with him. "But Harry, you need to stop doing this. I'll be a political candidate now, and even though everyone knows you and Ginny are separated, I can't... we can't..."

Her voice trailed off, but he immediately understood. Once again, the wizard press stood between them. She couldn't be seen fraternizing with a married man, especially Harry Potter. It certainly couldn't come to light that she was secretly staying at his house, now several nights each week. Candidates were treated with no mercy by the newspapers. "How long?" He tried to suppress the yearning tone in his voice.

"The election is on the eighth of June, but even after that, if I'm elected, I don't know..." Her eyes were sad and clearly stated what neither of them could ever say aloud.

Several moments passed before Harry finally dropped his eyes. "I'll be okay. You need to focus on this." He looked back up at her, forcing a smile. "No one deserves this more than you. You'll be terrific."

"I need to get through the election first. Kingsley is much more confident about this than I. I'd be the youngest Minister in centuries."

"You will win. I'm sure of it."

Harry looked back at himself in the mirror, returning from his memories. As he reminisced, he had been trying to make some sense out of his perpetually unruly hair. Of course she won, he thought. No other candidate had her drive and intellect; she had made all the rest of them look like uninformed amateurs when they attempted to debate her publicly. And after Shacklebolt's reform of Pureblood laws, that faction and the dark wizards had become so unpopular that their candidate didn't stand a chance. Even Draco Malfoy finally found a voice to speak out publicly in favor of Hermione. Harry was aware that some sort of upset had occurred in the Muggle Parliament in June, but Hermione came through the wizard election with a landslide win.

Although Harry's divorce had finally been completed during the election period, he knew Hermione couldn't just stay with him randomly again: it would be a public scandal that would distract from her new position. So with James home from school for the summer, he took to inviting her and the kids to dinner a few times each week when their schedules would permit. Teddy Lupin often joined them, and a large family around the table made Grimmauld Place feel like a real home to Harry. Even though they never openly discussed it, Harry and Hermione clung to the pretense that a family dinner together would shield them from press investigations. And on a few occasions, Harry convinced her to stay over with the kids – he slept more soundly knowing she was close by, though she had never again come to him at night.

And that had been why Ron had noticed their affection lately. Without their private evenings together, they were more clingy than ever when they had any moment in each other's presence. At the Ministry, they had to hold to some modicum of public behavior around each other, but every spare moment in private, Harry had to admit that they were basically hanging off of each other. After so many months experiencing the resonant sensations together, they craved that closeness, that untroubled feeling, almost like a drug.

It had been two weeks since their last big family dinner, which also made him anxious to see Hermione. With her new position, she had just moved to a new flat that was close to work. But aside from some work meetings, they hadn't seen much of each other during her move. He missed her profoundly.

Harry breathed deeply, as he checked himself one last time. Ron was right: they couldn't hide from this any longer. He simply couldn't bear to spend weeks apart from her, no matter what the politicians and press said. He didn't know what Hermione was planning tonight but he couldn't put up with this strange lifestyle anymore. They needed to address this.

He donned his jacket, straightened his collar, and finally set out.

Harry knocked three times on the carved wooden door. "It's open. Come in!" a muffled voice called from inside.

He opened the door and entered a small foyer. Amazing aromas of cooking meats and exotic spices wafted toward him. "Hello?" he called.

Hermione appeared at the end of a short hall. She was wearing the same deep blue dress he had seen her in once before, her neck adorned with his necklace. She was positively stunning, somehow with her mature features appearing even more lovely than she had been at that restaurant years ago. The soft light played gently in her brown hair, shifting its highlights as she walked toward him, smiling broadly. A grin formed on his face too, and he took a step forward and took her in his arms, breathing deeply and reveling in their contact. They stood there for a long while, eyes closed, idly stroking each other's backs, before Hermione finally pulled back. "This is nice. But I need to get back to dinner."

Harry turned and picked up the bottle he had left on a small table by the door. "You didn't say what to bring." He handed it to her, and she studied the label, looking back up at him in bewilderment.

"You know I like wine, Harry, but I don't know much about expensive bottles. This is a Domaine de la Romanée-Conti that's over 25 years old, though. Isn't this worth thousands of pounds?"

Harry shrugged. "It's actually 26 years old, to be exact. I got the 1991 vintage, because I wanted to celebrate how long we've known each other. The wine dealer said the 1990 was supposedly better, but I can't imagine this one's that bad."

She stared at him in confusion, her eyes blinking several times. "That bad? Harry, this is too much."

He was glancing down at the bottle. "I rarely spend any of my money, but in the past year, I realized that my parents and Sirius would want me to enjoy myself sometimes. And tonight, I wanted to bring something truly special. This is our first dinner alone since you became Minister." He paused, looking up to gaze into her eyes. "More importantly, it's our first dinner alone in a long while..."

She could tell what he wasn't able to say, and she put her free arm around him again, now clutching the bottle carefully in her other hand. "I've missed you too." She pulled away. "But I need to get back to the kitchen. Do you really want to drink this?"

"It's been waiting to be opened up for as long as we've been friends, so I think it's about time." He smirked, and she could see something playful in his eyes.

"Then I'll get something so you can do the honors, and I'll finish up dinner." She walked down the hall and turned into the kitchen, tending to a few pots, as Harry continued past her into the living room, taking in her new flat. It was an enormous space for the location, with an open plan that joined the kitchen, dining room, and living room into a single area. Bookcases lined almost all of the walls, making it feel like a hybrid between a library and a living space. A large gap in the shelves, however, showed a glass door that opened out to a small balcony. Harry walked over to the door, looking out at the monuments in the area, then seeing the Thames curve off into the distance.

"It's a lovely place." Hermione interrupted his thoughts. "There's no way I could afford to live anywhere near Whitehall, even on a Minister's salary, but the Ministry has owned a few buildings in the area for centuries. And they are giving me an amazing rate. I suppose it's one perk." She took a moment to look at his back, the dark jacket accentuating his shoulders and cutting in around his trim waist. Just a few threads of silver ran through his dark hair, making him look even more distinguished. Her eyes ventured lower, as she smiled a bit to herself at the cut of his trousers.

"You could say that," Harry replied, still staring out the window. "It sure beats the hell out of the view from Grimmauld Place." He inhaled deeply. "That smells amazing... What is it?"

"Lamb tagine. I know how you miss that restaurant since it closed, so I thought I'd try my hand at Moroccan cuisine." She set down the wine bottle and pushed a corkscrew across the dining table to the side facing the living room. Two glasses followed. "Here. If you really think you're ready for something that's been bottled up for 26 years, have at it." It was now her turn to smirk at him, as he turned to face her. Harry noticed her shining eyes and couldn't help grinning himself. Can she really mean what that sounds like?

Harry walked to the table and opened the bottle, pouring two glasses of the dark red wine. He looked up at her as she tended to the food. "I've never had a bottle like this either, but I suppose we should let it sit for a while, no? Let it breathe?"

She smiled back at him, a mischievous look now in her eyes. "I'm in no hurry."

Although the thought of going to her right now was ever more enticing, Harry took what he now assumed was a hint and walked back into the living room, noting the large cream-colored sofa and an overstuffed crimson leather chair in front of the fireplace. Beside the chair - which seemed oddly familiar to him - was a small table, piled high with books. Harry scanned the titles: On Food and Cooking, The Food Lab, Cooking for Geeks... "Some light reading here, I see. Somehow I always picture you with a copy of Hogwarts: A History." He chuckled.

"Am I ever going to live that down?" She sighed. "Actually, you inspired me this summer, so I've decided I should expand my culinary skills."

"With these?"

"It turns out that there's a science to how cooking works, like potions. It all makes more sense to me now. And I've been learning about all these interesting and unusual techniques. For example, did you know a lot of Moroccan cuisine uses preserved lemons? They're such a unique flavor, and they improve over time. You just need to wait to experience them, and they're..."

"C'est magnifique!" Hermione scrunched her eyebrows at him in confusion. He explained, "It's just that you remind me of Louis, the French waiter at Casablanca. He could give an entire speech on how you need to wait to savor a lemon properly."

"Well, I've had this particular lemon set aside for some time, and tonight seemed the right occasion." She came around from the kitchen, carrying two plates to the table. Harry joined her, helping her into the seat beside him.

He raised his wine glass, swirling it as he drew in a breath through his nose, then smiled at her. "So what shall we toast to? Old friends?"

"Maybe new beginnings?" Her eyes were alight as they looked intently at each other, daring each other to move beyond the dangerous seductive dance of double entendre that had begun earlier.

He clinked his glass against hers. "How about both?"

They relaxed over dinner, talking leisurely about the struggles of their new positions and how the children would do at Hogwarts now. The banter continued occasionally as well, though neither dared to break their dance of wit and move to what they most wanted.

Hermione had cleared the plates and said she needed to check on something. After she hadn't returned to the table in several minutes, Harry wandered into the kitchen, finding her just finishing whipping some cream with a whisk. He stared at her back, taking in her whole figure, his eyes running from her neck down to her hips and legs. At first he couldn't allow himself to believe it, but Harry was nearly certain she had been flirting with him openly that night, far beyond their typical jokes. Whatever fears he had, they had to be dismissed. The line was in front of him, and if he had to admit defeat because he was too weak to continue their witty banter, so be it.

He crossed the unspoken boundary and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. There was no pretense for this action: no friendly embrace, no excuse of helping her with kitchen chores, no reason other than that he just needed to feel her body close to his. She sighed and closed her eyes, as she put down the bowl and the whisk, placing her hands on his.

He breathed in her scent, marveling at the curve of her creamy neck as he pulled his hand up and swept back the hair on her right side. He had waited so long. Weeks, months, years...

"Harry, we should..."

He couldn't resist anymore. His lips descended to her neck, first brushing her shoulder softly, then moving inward, leaving a trail of tiny kisses in his wake. A shiver of delight surged through her. As he passed the thin chain of the necklace he had given her so long ago, she began to breathe heavily, eyes still closed, biting her lip at the sensation. He neared the bottom of her jaw, and his mouth finally opened as his lips pulled ever so gently on her skin. Her neck now began to flush, turning a shade of pink that caused primal urges to begin to stir in him. Then his lips were on her again, and he heard her let out an involuntary moan as she was beginning to sweat, he knew not whether from the heat already in the kitchen or his ministrations on her neck. But the tiny hint of salt in his first taste of her was exquisite. Harry pulled her closer to him, breathing deeply. He thought he could smell the warmth radiating off her, almost smoky...

Then two sets of eyes opened in alarm, as they turned to view the source of their concern. The fireplace was alight and the leather chair before it had now erupted into flame.

Hermione disengaged from him and ran into the living room. She extinguished the fire with her wand, sighing heavily. "I loved that chair."

"I'm sorry." Harry's worst fears had come true. Since that day in the Forest of Dean, they had never dared cross this line, but he had somehow hoped that their months of working together, taming their resonant reactions to each other, would allow them to control this. He was wrong.

"I didn't... I wasn't ready." Her face was downcast as she leaned on the back of the sofa.

"Hermione, I didn't know... I thought you wanted... I'd never..." He swallowed. "We can wait." He felt a shudder pass through him, as he contemplated how many more weeks, months, even years, of this torture he would gladly take to be with her.

But her eyes came up to meet his in an instant. "You don't understand." She smiled broadly. "I was merely thinking of the stupid chair. Harry, not to be too silly about this, but you had me at 'Hello.'" Her eyes dropped briefly as she shook her head at what she just said. "And I just didn't imagine you'd finally dare to do that, at least not this early in the evening." She stood up and squeezed his shoulder. "Just wait there for a minute," she said as she disappeared into a room down the hall.

Harry's brain couldn't even process what had just happened. I had her at "Hello?" And what did she mean, "this early in the evening"? She was planning for this? Were they on a schedule? He knew Hermione was fastidious in some odd ways, but this was beyond him.

She returned a minute later, carrying a large and obviously heavy wooden object, somewhat rectangular with a rounded top, shaped like a very old-fashioned Muggle radio. She put it down on the floor near the door to the balcony. Harry watched, perplexed, as she pulled out her wand and quietly chanted a long Latin incantation over it. "Musica mundana invocata, vis harmonicae magicae ex Harrio Hermioneque derivetur ut ignes amoris veri in caelis reluceant!" The top of the object glowed bright red for an instant as a soft low-pitched hum sounded. Then it was silent again, now only a faint glow emitting from within a carved circle on the front.

"What is that?" he queried.

She turned toward him now, the mischievous grin again spreading across her face. "I meant to set it up after you arrived, but you distracted me with your ten thousand pound bottle of wine. Anyhow, it's a safety valve, of sorts."

"What do you mean?" Harry was completely confused.

"Do you trust me?" She was now sauntering toward him, swaying her hips in a manner he had never imagined her doing before. The smile had grown wider, as she didn't break eye contact for an instant. She looked like a cat about to toy with her prey.

"Uh, I guess so. What's going on?"

She was now only inches away from him, glancing down at his chest while fiddling with the lapels on his jacket. Her eyes rose again to meet his: they were dark, but still had the playful light glimmering in them. "I need to test a theory. Calibrate some equipment. Will you help?"

He swallowed. "If I can." His heart was pounding, his breath shallow at her closeness. He was uncertain what strange spell had come over her.

"Close your eyes, Harry." His world went dark as his eyelids slid shut. He could feel heat radiating from her entire body, now pressed up against him, as the familiar scent of her overwhelmed his senses. He felt her arms around his neck, her fingers moving ever so slowly and gently through his hair and on the back of his head, until...

Softness and warmth. His entire world was focused down to a small circle an inch wide. For a moment, his mind was so overwhelmed that he didn't know what had happened. He felt the velvet softness that had become his universe pull away ever so slightly, and then he knew it was her lips on his. They pressed again, so lightly, as they moved together and apart, urging his lips to do the same. The moistness and taste of her registered on his lips, as jolt after jolt of electricity went through him.

His heart was racing, but her lips kept moving so slowly and languidly, and it seemed like an eternity before he felt the tantalizing tip of her tongue slip through and brush his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, as he felt her hands in his hair again, pulling him closer. His arms were now around her, his hands on her back and running through her hair, needing to be one with the sensations of her. The tip of her tongue met his and began to circle in a slow, meticulous dance. But desire eventually drove him beyond that dance, and a soft moan came from her throat as their tongues engaged more deeply, mouths wide. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over through them as their full tongues embraced completely over and over.

They repeated the dance, again and again, more deeply then less so, a seemingly endless cycle of bliss. It was like every motion, every sensation in them was perfectly matched, perfectly attuned. Finally, he could feel her lips begin to close, their caresses slowing even further as she kissed him close-mouthed once more. Her lips had one last gesture to add to the dance as they pulled down, sucking gently on his bottom lip, before pressing into both of his again. He countered, and then they held a final touch for several seconds, until his lips were alone once more.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, to see her wondrous brown orbs staring back, a blackness like polished obsidian at their centers. They were both breathing deeply, hot moist air circling between them. He had no idea how long they had been locked in that embrace: it could have been a minute, it could have been several hours. He had never experienced anything so slow and sensual and erotic in his life.

Hermione's reddened swollen lips now turned into a small smile, before she kissed him quickly one more time. "Go relax on the sofa. I need to get your surprise..." she said, turning away.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, but she paused to lean against the wall and steady herself. Sweet Merlin. Her entire body was quivering, and her knees threatened to give out. Ever since this morning, she had been hoping, waiting for the moment that they would finally take the step she had yearned for, but she never imagined anything could ever feel like that.

A few minutes later, she had brewed some espresso and emerged from the kitchen with a small tray, carrying two tiny cups and two plates. Harry was seated near the center of the sofa, staring at the empty fireplace, his mouth slightly open in wonder. He had removed his jacket and tossed it absentmindedly toward one of dining table chairs, but it had missed and had fallen to the floor as he simply kept on walking in his dazed condition. She picked it up and folded it, before continuing to the sofa. Sitting beside him, she placed the tray on the small table in front of them. Hermione handed him a cup, but he looked over at her in confusion.

"Did that actually happen?" She leaned over and gave him a soft gentle kiss in reply. He blinked, and a small grin came to his face. "I thought I might have had a stroke. Where did you ever learn to do that?"

A grin came to her face now too. "I was going to ask you the same question. I've never felt anything like that before." She took a sip from her cup, then looked at the tray with a more serious expression. "I tracked down your friend Steve and he gave me the recipe, Harry, though he wouldn't tell me what the secret ingredient was. I took your guess and added just a tiny pinch of cayenne. But I made a large tart so we could each have a piece to begin." She handed him a plate with a geometrically perfect thin slice, topped with the most exquisitely shaped quenelle of whipped cream.

He looked down at it, then at her. "You're truly amazing, you know that?"

She smiled. "Well, I wanted to do something special too." She looked off into the fireplace. "But there's more to this surprise. With the clues from that old wizard we met and some of my other research on Snape's practices, I am fairly certain I've found the cure for our amnesia."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "You have?"

"It took me the past two weeks to brew the potion, but I incorporated it in here. You always wanted to know what happened after that dance... with us."

He again looked down at his plate, then back to her face. "Do we have to... you know..." He pointed to her nose.

She laughed. "No, Harry. I don't think that has anything to do with it. Even the pumpkin pie probably isn't necessary, but that old wizard certainly thought it helped." Her smile quickly faded. Harry now felt attuned to her every shift in mood and cupped her cheek in concern. Her eyes came back up and met him. "What if it isn't what you thought? I know you've obsessed over it for years, but what if... what if it isn't as good a memory as..." Her voice trailed off.

"Hermione, I would treasure any memory that you're part of." In any other circumstance, such a statement would have sounded simply too romantic to be possible. Yet the sincerity in those iridescent green eyes overwhelmed her. After a beat, he continued, "But if you really don't want to know, we don't have to do this."

She nodded, looking down. After a moment, she lifted her plate from the tray and grabbed her fork. Then she raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking, Are you ready?

Together, they took a bite. "This is really good," he said. She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm serious. This is even better than Steve's." She smiled softly as they finished their small slices. They set down their plates together, then looked into each other's eyes. "What do we do now?" said Harry. She took his hand in hers.

A few moments passed, and their eyes slammed shut involuntarily as the memories flooded back from that night long ago: their dance, their kisses, their laughter together, their discussion of their magic, their embrace as they fell asleep. Hermione kept feeling the sensations of their young, passionate, unabashed kissing washing over her again and again. She finally opened her eyes to see Harry staring, eyes now even darker than before. She started to say, "That was..."

And then his lips were on hers again, now in the present, reenacting the frenzy of their young love. She had to admit, he did taste of pumpkin pie. But this was completely different from their sensual earlier kiss: a feeling of hunger and desire now drove them forward as their tongues swirled. Their hands explored each other's bodies fervently as Hermione leaned back on the sofa, pulling Harry with her. Their kiss seemed to be enhanced even further by the residual magic of the memory's return, somehow blending memory and reality together, as their hearts beat strongly against each other.

After a minute, Harry pulled away, gasping for air, but was surprised by a soft glow emanating beside them. He glanced up to see flashing colored lights in the sky through her balcony window. Unbidden, his mind began a thought, 'But soft! What light through yonder window...'

"Don't even say it." Hermione had seen his gaze drift upward.

"I didn't say-"

"I know that look."

He had to smile, a feeling of pure adoration coming over him. "You did that even without Legilimency, didn't you?" He shook his head. "But what's going on out there anyway? Is there a holiday celebration tonight or something? Those looked like fireworks."

Her eyes drifted down slightly as a tiny grin emerged on her face.

"And I know that look," he said. He now sat up a bit, lifting himself off of her. She sighed at the absence of his contact. "Just what did you do, Hermione?"

"Remember the 'safety valve'?"

Harry looked to the wooden device on the floor that she had brought out earlier, its light now flickering brightly. He then glanced out to the sky, then back inside. "No..."

"It came to me earlier. I was afraid of the spontaneous magical release we had experienced in the Forest of Dean, and I had no idea what the potion might do. Originally, I thought we might have to apparate to a rocky outcrop somewhere for our dessert, but then I thought of a more... convenient solution."

Harry's hand was rubbing his forehead, as he shook his head back and forth. "You're not seriously telling me that you somehow converted that resonant energy or whatever you call it into a... bloody fireworks show!?"

She couldn't help giggling a bit. "I know, it sounds ridiculous. But that apparatus there has been attuned to us and works a bit like a floo for magical forces. It sends any spontaneous magical energy down to another apparatus on the Thames, which is a sort of... containment unit." Harry suddenly looked up, wearing a grin of excitement. "No, not like in Ghostbusters. Well, actually..." She sighed deeply. "Anyhow, when energy builds up too much, it, er... discharges."

"But fireworks? Isn't someone going to... you know, notice that?"

"Well, explosive spells are the fastest and most efficient way to disperse magical energy. The last time this happened, we almost lit an entire forest on fire, so I couldn't think of what else to do with it. And I charmed the explosions so they won't make any noise and won't be as disruptive. The Ministry's public story is that there might be a small lightshow in honor of the start of the school year, and I contacted Muggle law enforcement to tell them too. In case any Muggle news organizations ask, they'll be told that they're doing a test of some new type of fireworks."

Harry was now shaking his head again, looking away into the distance. "And I thought things were strange when we set the chair on fire..."

She sighed, glancing over at the charred remains. "I really loved that chair."

"Wait," he said with a look of recognition, "isn't that the chair from the Gryffindor common room? The one you never let me sit in?" She grinned devilishly at him. "You stole a chair?"

"It was more like... appropriation of underutilized resources. During a Ministerial visit, I simply suggested to Minerva that the room could use some updating." He wasn't convinced. "It was comfy. I did give them a new one."

"When I think back to that girl who always wanted to obey the rules - now you're 'appropriating' armchairs and launching unlicensed fireworks displays. What is the Head of Law Enforcement going to do with you?"

"What would you like to do with me, Harry?" One side of her mouth turned up in a coy half-smile that caused all rational thought to flee from his brain.

"Let me consider the options..." Bringing his forehead to hers, he completely lost himself in her eyes. He had spent hours gazing at her face during their evenings together over the past year, trying to memorize every tiny detail as she would read or do work. She'd inevitably catch him, and they'd lock eyes knowingly for a few moments before the feelings became overwhelming. And yet tonight it was still a different world to see her like this, to have permission to look at those eyes forever without needing to glance away. How could he have never seen the flecks of gold in those lovely brown irises before? Did they always sparkle so?

He still was not quite able to believe this wasn't a dream, that his best friend of a quarter century was actually here. But finally his gaze fell to her lips, and he needed to close the gap again. He was already addicted to her. They kissed slowly and reclined again as his body covered hers. But in a moment, he pulled up abruptly. "So if we, umm... do this right, we'll see explosions outside?" Now he was wearing a devilish grin.

"Well, it depends on what this is that we do. Remember, it requires resonance. We both have to want-"

But her voice was cut off as his mouth descended hungrily to her lips. She relaxed into one of his arms holding her as his other hand began to flow up and down her side. Then suddenly his lips were on her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, kissing, then sucking ever so softly as small throaty moans began to escape from her mouth. In a strained moment of consciousness, she registered the thought, What is he doing? But his hand was now further down, caressing her, moving teasingly from the back of her leg to the front of her thigh, then smoothing the soft fabric of her dress as his fingers raked over her stomach. Meanwhile, his mouth had been elsewhere, and he had somehow already found that strangely sensitive spot just where her neck joined to her upper shoulder, which he was now massaging deeply, his lips and tongue alternating their pressure in a way that made her toes curl.

She began to pant as she now felt fingers shifting direction and ever so slowly moving upward, all the while as he continued the ministrations on her neck. Her heart was pounding; she could barely take the tension, needing him to continue. The hand clasped then caressed her side, then dared to lightly sweep across her chest. Fingers began to swirl gently around the soft mound on her right side, inching closer and closer to the center until his whole hand cupped it strongly. "Oh, Harry..." she moaned as her back arched involuntarily.

A glowing red stream ascended into the sky outside and burst into a thousand lights, showering down.

His hands pulled back abruptly. "Bingo!" Harry sat up slightly, chuckling.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared wide-eyed at him. "You... you... did that just to see if it worked?"

"I was just... what did you say, calibrating the equipment?" She slapped his arm.

His grin turned serious, as he gave her another slow and gentle kiss. "No, actually I did that because you, right now, are the most beautiful and most erotic thing I've ever seen in my life, and I can't wait to hear those sounds again."

She stared at him for a moment, and she would have blushed had her entire upper body not already been deeply flushed from his advances. Suddenly, she raised her head to kiss him back forcefully. Gently pushing him off, she sprawled out on her side next to him. Her fingers began to make light circles on his chest then pressed harder into his muscles, massaging them. She kissed his neck, before her mouth slowly made its way upward, tracing her tongue lazily around the bottom of his ear, before sucking gently on his earlobe. She breathed softly into his ear, whispering, "You were born to catch the snitch, Harry." Harry's eyes fluttered briefly open in surprise, but went shut again when he felt her hand now moving downward, grazing his upper thigh, then inching back up. "Is your wand charged and ready?" Her hand now traveled between his thighs, cupping him lightly. "Ooh... something's starting to levitate."

Harry was going out of his mind. What had come over her? "Uh... Hermione...?" he panted, barely able to control his voice.

But then her hand was stroking up and down through his trousers, and he thought he was going to lose consciousness. Her hot breath was in his ear again. "I'm sorry, I'm am being a bit naughty. Maybe I need just a little... swish and flick." His hips gave an involuntary thrust upward.

Another red rocket burst forth in the heavens.

Her hand went back up to rest on his chest as she giggled in his ear. "This is kind of fun..."

Harry's eyes now flew open. "You... you... witch!"

She was now laughing outright. "That was easier than I thought."

"I... I didn't know you had that in you." He was again shaking his head. "You know, if this gig running the whole wizarding world in Britain doesn't work out, you could find a job designing magical sex toys. I mean, just think how many blokes would love to have an indicator like that."

She looked down at his chest, her fingers resuming their circling caresses. "Well, I think a lot of blokes might be disappointed when the indicator didn't go off..." He frowned, but her eyes rose quickly to his. "Not that you'd have any problem with that." She kissed him softly again, then rested her head on his shoulder, while wrapping one of her legs on top of his. Silence fell between them, as they relaxed for a moment into the familiar yet novel sensation of cuddling so close.

Harry sighed as he gazed down at her. "There's one thing I don't know about. How are the kids going to take all this? It's going to be strange for them."

"Most of them are off at school now anyway, so we have some time." She thought again back to her conversation with Teddy. "And we'll go slow, but from the way they enjoyed our family dinners together, I think we can just start there." She paused for a moment, a slight look of concern coming over her. "But I don't know how Ginny and Ron are going to react."

Harry began chuckling. "Well, Ginny's apparently dating a former pro Quidditch player already. And Ron basically told me after you left this morning that if I didn't start snogging you soon, he'd push our faces together himself."

She gasped. "He didn't."

"Not in so many words, but that was the gist." Harry's laugh died off. "I have to admit that part of me feels really strange about this, being the 'second man' and all..."

She thought back to her now-restored memory. "You know that's not quite true anymore, you remember?"

Harry now sat up, pulling her gently along with him. He continued to marvel at her for a minute, then walked over to the balcony window, staring out into the sky. "I just don't understand. I know he was trying to pretend to follow Voldemort, but why did Snape do this to us? Why put us through this?"

Hermione looked over at him. "I've had a lot more time to think about that. And maybe he was afraid we'd blow ourselves up or burn the forest down around us before we learned to control this. Which... we almost did, even with decades more experience with magic." She rose and walked over to his side. "But I've also thought about what it would have done to the two of us, if we felt that strongly back then. I was almost ready to quit the War entirely just to stay with you... the two of us could have run off together and never looked back. You might have never gone to Voldemort, and the Horcrux in you would have remained. The outcome of the entire War could have been in jeopardy."

"We wouldn't have abandoned everyone like that." He paused. "I mean, I don't think I could have done that. It all seems so convoluted."

"Really? More convoluted than Dumbledore's scheme to lead Snape into risking his life to protect you for years... only to reveal that you had to die so that Snape would convince you to kill yourself after years of pretending to be the enemy... except that Dumbledore ultimately had a secret hope that you'd figure out his path for you to llve?" She sighed, still amazed at how that twisted logic ever managed to come together.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

She turned serious again. "Regardless, Snape must have considered what we'd do to protect each other, how it could have compromised our judgment." She also looked off into the dark sky, now putting an arm around his waist. "And what if we had stayed? Knowing how I feel tonight with you, I could have never let you go to the forest alone with Voldemort. I barely was able to let you go as it was. No matter what you said, I'd have followed you, to the ends of the Earth."

Harry swallowed hard. "You'd have been killed."

"And then you would have had to go on living without me." She stopped, forcing herself not to think about what that would have done to him. "Or think of dozens of other times we risked our lives in the War, all the times we were in danger of losing each other. Snape must have seen the emotions inside you when he viewed your thoughts, Harry. Over the years, I'm sure he saw into both of us, just as Dumbledore did. Even before we knew consciously, they could recognize what was building there. I know Snape always treated us badly, but he also knew what death could do to us... to people who love that strongly. He lived with it for so many years..."

"I know he loved her so much..." Harry whispered.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, as she realized for the first time that Snape might have done this for her, to spare her from an intense lifelong pain of loss he felt so acutely, a pain following the death of Harry that Snape knew had to happen. Hermione never had imagined Snape cared at all for her; she had always seemed a disappointment to him somehow, despite her success in school. But had that merely been an overreaction to Harry's affection for her, a reminder of that bright young Muggle-born girl he had lost to Harry's father? Snape couldn't save Harry from death, and his sacrifices in the name of Lily must have seemed for naught. But in this twisted way, could he have tried to protect her for Harry, to save her in a way he could never do for Lily?

She looked up at Harry's face. "We may never know all the reasons why he did it, but we did accomplish Dumbledore's plan to defeat Voldemort. And Snape knew that plan somehow required your death. I'd also like to believe that, deep down, his love for your mother led him to try to protect us from some of that pain." Her eyes glanced down. "I suppose he thought we'd never find out what we'd never had."

"We wasted so much time..."

She turned back to him and put her hand on his cheek, turning his face to hers. She bit her lip. "Harry, I'm right here, now."

A glint appeared in his eyes again, before he kissed her suddenly, dipping her backward in his arms as she laughed into his mouth. He tried to pull her up, but he had dipped her too low, and they stumbled together to gain their balance. "Nice move, Potter," she laughed. "Let's not try that in public..."

"Actually, Ms. Granger, I was thinking of trying that one out with you at the Ministry on Monday morning. Perhaps in the main lobby?" The smirk had returned.

Her eyes were bright now. "But what will they think, Harry? The Minister for Magic and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, barely out of two Weasley marriages, snogging each other senseless?"

A stern look came over him, as he articulated clearly, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

His lips again drew close to hers, but she couldn't help a small smile creeping up the corners of her mouth as she thought to herself, Thank god we've finally moved on from the Bogie quotations! They kissed again, this time slowly and lovingly. Her mind flew back to her younger self from the memory long ago: Anything can happen. I mean, if something should keep us apart... I want you to know that...

Anything and everything had happened, but he was finally here, now. She couldn't let another moment go by without saying it. Pulling away, her mouth breathlessly formed the soft words, "I love you, Harry. Always."

He stared deeply into her glowing brown eyes. "Hermione, you know that I will always love you, just the same."

Her eyebrow arched slightly; the mischievous grin was back. Just one more. "Then kiss me, Harry! Kiss me as if it were the last time."

He beamed, nearly laughing before his green eyes grew very dark. She realized he was taking her words seriously: he now looked ravenous, like an animal ready to pounce on her. Without warning, her feet took flight as she was swept into his arms. A girlish giggle turned into a squeal of joy, cut short when his mouth locked on hers for what seemed like an eternity of bliss. This was going to be one hell of a night.

Footnote: September 1, 2017 is the date that JKR finally admitted this is actually what happened. No, probably not. :)

Note that the various explanations Harry and Hermione come up with for Snape's actions are meant to be deliberately open-ended. He was a complex character, as JKR has repeatedly acknowledged, ruled by lots of dark emotions. Maybe his actions were purely pragmatic, driven by his need to stay hidden from Voldemort or to guide Harry to fulfill Dumbledore's plan, or maybe there was some deeper emotional motive as well. Although JKR has leaned toward the "Snape only loved Lily and absolutely hated everyone else (including Harry)" idea in the past, his portrayal in Cursed Child suggests JKR also wants people to believe he cared about other people too.

Please continue to the epilogue... which contains a final helping of pumpkin pie.