Hermione's eyes fluttered open without the aid of an alarm on Tuesday morning, light streaming in the small skylight above the bed on the angled roof. Blinking and rubbing sleep from her eyes, she surveyed the small slice of sky she could see. It looked to be an okay day outside and Hermione slid from under the quilt to stretch. A hike was in order today, a long one.
Hermione made breakfast and tea and curled up in her fleece blanket on the couch, listening to the sounds of nature outside coming to life. Birds chirruped to one another and squirrels scritched up trees and occasionally over the roof of the cabin.
She would write Ginny about the wedding news before she left and she would likely have a response waiting when she returned at the end of the day.
'Ginny,
News!
Don't tell anyone else but George and I have agreed to get married on January 1st.
Will you stand with me?
Eek,
Hermione'
Fairly vague and likely to incite seizures of excitement from unanswered questions in her friend, Hermione sent that tiny note along with another for George.
'George,
I have written Ginny to ask her to stand with me and of course you should ask Fred.
You will likely be bombarded by questions from Ginny, so be prepared. I'm sure you know how she can be when she wants answers.
Always,
Hermione'
She sent them off with Titania and packed food and water for her hike. She re-donned the clothes she wore to the cabin yesterday; old jeans, cotton shirt and pullover with hiking boots and rain gear. She locked the door behind herself and set off around one side of the lake.
The water was still and silent, noises travelling over the smooth surface from the other side; animals crunching through the underbrush, bird calls, the wind in the branches. Hermione drew a deep breath though her nose and savoured the smells of autumn in the wilderness. Leaves, wet bark, dirt, crisp water, outside.
She treaded the trail running along the lake, wet leaves clinging to her boots as she went. In some of the underbrush growing on the side of the lake, there was a family of ducks paddling about in the calm waters and Hermione smiled as the mother quacked at her passing.
The trail was sometimes overtaken and completely covered in fallen leaves, it being late September, but Hermione trekked on. She had traveled these trails so many times over the years, she could find her way in the darkness. Her parents had done their absolute best to get her out into the great outdoors and hiking was one of their favourite pastimes. Hermione liked it herself because she could ask about the different types of tress, how and why water eroded things, different birds and how they knew to migrate south in the winter, what made thunderstorms crack the sky with lightening and thunder, what made leaves turn colour and why did they fall.
Little Hermione, full of questions about everything.
Bless her parents, they answered everything they could to the best of their abilities. After Hermione's first couple of trips where she really started to engage in the world around them, her father had taken her to an ecology centre where she had had her questions answered by displays and presentations, and she had pestered the employees incessantly. It was all fantastic for Hermione; she got all her questions answered and in understanding the ecosystem around her, she had taken more of an interest.
Hermione turned and followed a branch of the trail away from the lake when she reached the far side and started up the incline there. Eventually it would lead to the top of a gradual hill and from there she would continue up, double back on the trail and hike up the next incline which would take her to the top of the ridge overlooking the lake with the cabin in the distance.
Hermione puffed as the slope increased and she had to push her way up the side of the incline. The trees became more windblown the higher she went, the branches swept clean of leaves and waving in in the breeze. Hermione continued up and some time later was rewarded with reaching the top of the ridge. Her eyes followed back down the trail she had taken and she looked own at her haven in the middle of nowhere. Pausing long enough to take a drink of water, Hermione adjusted her hat over her curls and carried on traversing the rocky hillside, breathing in the clear air.
The act of physically pushing herself and exerting effort to keep going was acting like a cleansing ritual. After all the turmoil since the beginning of the month, Hermione reveled in the mental silence the wilds provided.
As much as she knew she very lucky, she obviously had moments of utterly overwhelming life decisions. She just had to breath and remember that the world was a better place now, she had people who loved her very much, a man who obviously respected her and would do whatever he could to keep her happy, and she was doing well in the career aspect of her life.
She had never seen herself as a writer, much less a history book writer, but she had to admit that it wasn't a bad match for her. It was something she could probably spend her whole life doing and she doubted it would shock anyone who knew her if she took very much after the career of Bathilda Bagshot herself. Granted she would have George and children and lots of chaos to keep her young and balance out the life of history research she may have ahead of her and for that, she was thankful.
Marrying George might actually be exactly what she needed to keep her from hermiting away in the confines of a massive library of history manuscripts.
Hermione rounded a corner and found a rocky outcropping to sit and rest for a minute. The only thing Hermione was not happy with was that her parents would not be able to attend her wedding. She was, after all, their only child. She wondered if she would have them back by the time they had their first child; her heart ached at the thought of any of her children not knowing their muggle grandparents who would cherish them beyond belief.
A winter wedding.
Hermione had not given much thought to when she would like to get married, under any other circumstances, but when she had ever imagined it in any capacity, it had always been warm. Weddings normally happened in summer, did they not?
One place Hermione truly loved in the middle of winter was Hogwarts. She wondered rather latently if George would agree to be married at the castle.
The image of the Transfiguration Courtyard covered in a blanket of fresh white snow hung before her eyes and she shook her head. It would be far too cold for them to be outside, wouldn't it?
She would have to ask him if he liked the idea of Hogwarts anyway, and then follow up with McGonagall. January 1st was still Christmas hols, so there would be almost no one at the castle. If there was any time of the year besides summer where Minerva would be most likely to acquiesce to her request, it would be winter holidays.
But maybe George didn't want a ceremony?
But then why would he say the only thing he wanted was for Fred to stand with him?
Maybe he assumed Hermione would want a proper wedding. She would ask him when she saw him next. They didn't have to make a big deal of it.
Another image of the giant tree in the courtyard, enchanted leaves crystalline with ice and shimmering in the late evening light, niggled its way into Hermione's mind and she held it there as long as it would last before it faded.
Yes, that was a beautiful vision, but she better not let herself run with it until she knew it was a definite possibility. She would also need to check with Ginny to make sure her best friends would be okay with her getting married at the same castle, as she thought it likely her and Harry would marry on the anniversary of the Final Battle on the Hogwarts grounds somewhere.
Rising, Hermione made for the slope again and kicked some dry leaves around a bit. The rain had not fallen here with the last clouds and the ground was much drier. Hermione continued to hike, removing her hat as the incline grew steeper, carry her to her final destination.
After another hour of climbing and winding her way up the hills, Hermione broke out on the headland and stood on the outcropping of rock there proudly, heaving a few breaths of cool air. There she stood at the top of one of the higher hills in the area, and she looked over even more land this high up. Her tiny cabin was indiscernible from the trees around it now and even farther in the distance was a small town, smoke rising from chimneys in the distance. Gentle rolling hills spread out on the countryside around her perch and marvelled at the shade range between pastures and followed the hedges separating them with her eyes.
Not a single care for as far as the eye could see.
Hermione ate her lunch and watched as the sun played hide and seek with the clouds, finding it very easy to keep her mind clear and focused after her hike. She had been right to do this; it had been exactly what she needed.
After plodding and sometimes stumbling down the mountain, Hermione made it home as the light was starting to dim and dropped her gear as she entered through the back door again. She quickly lit a fire and set it to crackling and grabbed her shower supplies and a towel from upstairs, setting her warm pajamas on the arm of the couch so that she could dress as soon as she came inside. She stripped and wrapped her towel around herself.
The very worst part of cabin living was the outhouse, quickly followed by outdoor showering in cold weather. With feet already cold in flip flops, Hermione opened the side door and made a quick dash around the shower enclosure with her shampoo and soap. Luckily Hermione had thought to leave the water heater on for when she got home so that a hot shower was possible immediately. She cast a heating charm on the space to take the chill off and hung her towel on the peg out of the splash radius. Hot water tricked out of the shower head above her and Hermione showered at lightening speed, sudsing up and rinsing as fast as she could while still being thorough.
An unexpected hoot made her jump and reach for her wand on the ledge beside her as she finished and shut off the water. Glancing up, she found Titania perched on the top edge of the enclosure, gazing down at her nakedness as unabashedly as only animals can do. Hermione quickly squeezed her hair of excess water and wrapped herself in her towel tightly again.
Inside was warmed through on the bottom level now that the fire had been crackling in the fireplace for a while. Hermione let the owl in and shut the door quickly to keep the heat in.
"What do we have here? One from each other them?" Hermione untied the letters and the familiar-looking package that the owl had fetched for her before feeding her a treat and letting her back outside to hunt. Hermione set water on the stove and dried and dressed quickly. When tea was made and steeping, she cracked George's letter first.
'Hermione,
I'll only write this to confirm your suspicions; Ginny did come 'round and demand answers, few of which I had. I referred her to you, so you will undoubtedly receive a lengthy request along with my note.
Please see attached if you need a little extra relaxation.
Yours,
George'
As she removed the paper from the package, she exposed the familiar box of a Daydream Charm. Grinning, Hermione set it aside and sipped her tea.
'Hermione!
What?! January 1st?! That's basically no time at all from now! How will we ever plan a wedding in three months? Dear Merlin!
Okay, we have to start as soon as you get back. And I will also need all the details of how this came about. George wouldn't really say. You two didn't... you know, right? You're not pregnant already are you?!
Calm down Ginny.
Of COURSE I'll stand with you!
Eeeeeeek,
Ginny!
P.S. - Crookshanks is having the best time back at the Burrow!'
Hermione laughed at her friend's admonition aimed at herself and set the letter aside. She would write responses now and send them first thing in the morning.
'George,
Thank you again. The first thing I'll be helping with is making more Daydream Charms, I see. Are you still using them up or do you leave it to your brain's prerogative at night?
She did write me and she asks if we named a date so close because I'm already pregnant, and then berated herself for getting so worked up.
I'll save that for tomorrow or the day after; I did a day hike today all the way up this large incline, up to the top of the closest range to overlook the lake and town in the distance. I am so tired and I'll probably be sore tomorrow but it was worth it.
I wanted to ask: Do you actually want a ceremony or do you just want to go to the Ministry and sign the papers? If you do not want to make a big deal about it, we can find a solution that compromises. Otherwise I have some ideas; I haven't thought very much about it aside from today on my hike.
Always,
Hermione'
There was nothing for it; she'd just have to wait for his answer.
'Ginny,
I'm not pregnant, calm down. There's not even a possibility of that. What would your mother say?!
We agreed on so soon because after that I'll be busy with the book and leaving it longer is only going to make me pull my hair out with stress.
On another secret note, have you and Harry discussed again the when and where of your wedding yet? Because I had an idea for ours: I was thinking the Transfiguration Courtyard. With the snow and the ice on the tree... Yes? What do you think? I haven't mentioned it to George so shh! Also, it's not set in stone obviously and if you'd rather we didn't, that's also fine.
Your almost-sister-in-law,
Hermione'
That would do it.
Tea, a quick sandwich and a fire stoke later, Hermione curled again on the couch, the cabin lit only by the flickering fire. Darkness had fallen outside and the silence of the night would have been disconcerting after living in a city most of her life if she hadn't enjoyed it so much.
As expected, Hermione not only slept deeper than she had since the beginning days restoring Hogwarts but she also woke up sore from her hike. She hobbled downstairs and immediately lit a fire to warm the cabin through. She was not going out far today; she could see from the cloud cover that it would be raining. The dark clouds were ominous on the horizon and it would be an indoor afternoon. If she hurried through her breakfast she could make use of the morning by cleaning up the property a bit and re-spelling the roof against leaks.
Leaving Titania to sleep for a few hours before sending her out with the letters she penned the night before, Hermione jacketed and booted up, closing the front door behind herself tightly.
The lake was gray and the strong breeze disturbed the surface of the water that had lain smooth yesterday in the milder weather. It was cold, and Hermione pulled her scarf up around her ears to keep the chill away as she swept her wand from side to side and cleared the rotting and wet leaves from the grass around the house. She pushed them off to the sides, into the trees and climbed up the side of the shower stall until she could see the roof. She cleared that of leaves as well and dried out the roofing materials. A wide-cast Impervius would help keep it watertight through the fall in case she couldn't make it back for awhile. She cleaned up the back entrance and vanished the rubbish in the bin by the door. The front porch had started to sag on one side and Hermione dried it out and fixed in in no time flat. The wooden chairs that sat on the porch needed a good scrub and she set some brushes to work on them and then continue around the cabin, cleaning any patches that had started to grow moss from the moisture. Once the outside of the windows were all polished and gleaming in the dull light, Hermione trekked back inside for another cup of tea and to send her letters off.
She had had a productive morning acting as the property owner she was. She had changed into clean lounge clothes and settled with another cup of tea when the brushes that had been working outside let themselves in the front door and settled under the sink.
Hermione cast her eyes around the space.
If she was going to spend her time mostly at Hogwarts, there wouldn't be much need for her apartment and the cabin. She would likely pack everything up and bring it here for the time being. Under the stairs was a wall of bookcases that would surely be enough for her collection, and she really didn't need much more than the dresser upstairs anyway. The kitchen was tiny but it was only a miniscule step down in size that what she had at the apartment already. The upside was the large kitchen table which she did not have at the apartment. Also, it was remote enough that she could put up some anti-snooping-muggle wards and some disguising charms and call it done. She'd be able to apparate and disapparate with no trouble. It even had a fireplace she could hook up to the floo network if she needed to. But then she would need a name for it.
Could she live here?
She had a feeling it would act more as an emergency getaway than an actual home. She didn't see spending much time away from Hogwarts and possibly George's. Nevertheless, Hermione felt okay calling this her primary residence outside of Hogwarts. At least until she and George had officially moved in together after the wedding, or later.
Leaving the fire burning, Hermione took her book out to the front porch and wrapped herself in her blanket before sitting in one of the large wooden chairs. The spent the afternoon whiling away the time reading and watching the lake and reflecting on the choices she had made thus far and if they were ones she could live with for years to come, hoping she had been wise.
When the rain pitter patter had started, it drizzled down and dripped occasionally from the corner of the porch overhang. As time wore on, Hermione had to cast a spell to keep the rain from splashing all over the porch deck and her blanket.
The skies darkened considerably and before long there was a distant crack of thunder. The rain came down even harder, and if she had not already ensured her warmth and dryness, Hermione would likely be soaked. She set her book aside and just watched mother nature rage around her haven of welcomed calm. The thunder grew louder and closer and skies lit up with the crackles of electricity nearby. The storm raged on and night darkened. The lightening continued and the thunder rumbled in her chest and Hermione extracted herself from her quilt and set it inside the front door.
On the top step, she stood, silent and still. Boots, pajamas, hair in a top knot.
When her boot met with the soggy ground at the bottom of the three porch steps, the initial shock of cold and slamming wet hit her. If she had any doubts about her hike being the only cleanse her mind had needed on this trip, she had this as a back up. She closed her eyes and the raindrop beat into her skin, into her very pores, and washed away all her worries.
Everything would work out in the end, she knew it. Time to start accepting things as they were and stop worrying about what she couldn't change.
Later, when Hermione found herself dry and in bed in the loft, her toes the last part of her body fighting to get warm again, she wondered what it would be like to have George keep her snug on nights like this.
Lightening flashed again through the skylight.
The morning of October 1st broke and with it, the storm. Many more leaves had been blown from the trees next to the house, but thanks to Hermione's maintenance yesterday, none of them gathered on the roof. She slept in and shuffled downstairs to start a small fire and turn on the water heater for a shower.
She could get used to trudging around outside in her pajamas and boots; there was no one around to see her state of disarray. Her hair was a disaster after the rain of the night before. She had dried it but it had been tangled and it had that rainwater feeling about it.
She had slowly gathered some more wood from the side of the house for later, as the pile inside was running low. She made oatmeal and tea and relished again in the quiet.
It was hard to believe that in one month's time she would be at Hogwarts, adding onto a history book that everyone in Britain knew of. She would be part of Hogwarts, A History, the very first book she had read when she had found out about her magical abilities and arguably the first magical book she had memorized.
That feeling was... Immeasurable.
Resolving to cherish every moment of peace for the rest of the day and for her last day tomorrow, Friday, she made a note to bring the radio next time and also find a nice wind chime to hang for after the winter passed.
After a hot shower and clean clothes, Hermione stared around the cabin. What would she do today? Just read? She had taken care of all the tasks she needed to do yesterday and she didn't much feel like another hike. Maybe she could re-read Hogwarts, A History and take some preliminary notes on any missing information and perhaps jot down some points to start researching for current history.
Work?
She was going to start work on her getaway trip.
What would George say?
Hermione laughed and disregarded the idea for now. Unless she got absolutely desperate for something to occupy her time, there was no work going on here. She picked up her novel and whiled away the hours flicking through pages at a lazy pace and watching the fire. At some point in the later afternoon, Titania returned with messages after being away for the day before.
"Did they keep you warm and fed?" she asked idly, rubbing the owl's head gently and untying her letters. Titania immediately flew up to the rafter in the loft, making it abundantly clear that she was not going out again today to deliver the responses if there happened to be any, Hermione couldn't blame her.
'Hermione,
Still using like an addict. Might have to add a note to the box about addictive tendencies.
When I get to see this place, you'll take me on a hike?
About the wedding details: I'm not fussed and have no preference. I know my family, particularly mum, would like to actually see a ceremony but it's not really up to them is it? Whatever you want.
Ginny was quite giddy when I saw her next, I take it she managed to get some good news out of you.
Yours,
George'
'Hermione,
The soon-ness makes sense once I think about it. But why New Years Day?
I love secret notes, it's like you know my weaknesses. Yes, we have spoken about it more. Date is still set for May 2nd, and I rather think he wants it to be on the grounds, maybe somewhere near Dumbledore's tomb, 'so that he can see that we're doing all right'. I nearly cried at that, the look on his face when he said it Hermione; he looked just like the little 11 year old I met at King's Cross.
You can get shackled with my brother wherever you want; Same castle, same spot if you like. However the middle courtyard in winter does sound beautiful. I can already see all the ice decorations! Eeeek! I won't spill a word. I need you to be back soon so that we can talk about all this! Take another dream charm and tell me if you see anything else worth mentioning on the subject of weddings.
Your Lady-in-waiting,
Ginny'
She glanced at the Daydream Charm on the table, innocently sitting as she had left it, brown paper wrappings still caught underneath it and string in a tangle beside it.
Throwing caution to the wind and curious what she would see this time, she took it to the couch and snuggled herself down for a bit of a guilty pleasure. She could see why George admitted to using these; they were downright obsessive.
The familiar feeling of sinking spread through her limbs and Hermione closed her eyes, letting it pull her down without a fight.
Just like the first time, short scenes flashed over her eyelids too quickly to ponder the circumstances or context that they were pulled from; George outside the cabin chopping wood while shirtless and sweaty, Hermione running through the woods outside shrieking as George chased after her cackling with a mad grin on his face, Hermione rounding the corner of the shower stall and catching a glimpse of a naked muscled back with soap suds rinsing down to the ground, Hermione's cold feet nestled between a pair of warm hairy legs buried under the covers in the loft.
And then slowly, a new scene and awareness spread through her. She had just come back in front the front door of the cabin and hung her hat and coat on the peg over the stairs to the right and called out into the silence.
"George? I'm back!"
She kicked off her boots and washed her hands in the kitchen sink.
"Oh, good," she heard his voice from behind her, the tone one she recognized instantly, tingles starting to furl in her belly. She turned and caught his eye as he stalked towards her, eyes intent on hers as they widened in shock.
"No, George, I'm all sweaty from-"
He silenced her with a bruising kiss, demanding, and anchoring her head with both of his rough hands.
"Just the way I like you," he broke them apart and caught her sweater hem and before she knew it he was throwing it over his shoulder. He tugged her closer and reclaimed her lips, her will to protest all but extinguished.
For all the demanding movements of his hands and lips, he pressed lightly into her tummy and groaned when she shifted. She let out a breathy squeak when his hands clasped her hips and he lifted her easily, setting her down on the small space of kitchen counter by the door. Perching just on the edge, she spread her legs and he nestled into the space expectantly and the squeak turned into a weak moan.
Sitting on the counter, they were more of an equal height, allowing Hermione a reprieve from neck-craning. As his tongue delved into clearly familiar territory, one of his hands pressed against her lower back and shifted her forward on the edge and tighter to his body.
Somehow without her knowing or making the effort, her hands were tangled in his hair and clutching him close to her. At the gentle tug of her fingers and the warmth radiating from between them, a low groan rumbled through George's chest and his hips moved forward involuntarily.
"I knew you'd see things my way," he growled as her head fell back and she heaved a breath.
She vision began to swim and haze and she cried out a the loss of the dream. The once again empty cabin came back into view as she panted, excitement still running rampant through her veins. It was stifling under the covers and she threw them back, fanning herself.
Never had she ever had a dream like that that was so realistic.
These things would kill her before an experimental Weasley product ever would.
That kiss.
It had been so different from the other one. The first one had been slow and gentle and careful and tentative. This one had been... Dangerous. Heavy. Rough. The feelings in the aftermath were both a blessing and a curse; her body was strumming along on a plateau of arousal but on the other hand, that scene was unlikely to unfold for quite some time, if ever.
Are you a Gryffindor or not? Hermione asked herself. Could she really be thinking about doing this?
Before she could think of any reason to stop her, she threw off the remaining covers and pulled on her coat and pulled her boots on, messily tucking her pajama bottoms into the top of them. She grabbed her wand and she was running, wild pieces of hair falling from her bun and throwing a locking charm at the door over her shoulder.
Just past the wards and pop, she was in Diagon Alley.
She must have looked a sight to any of the shoppers still milling about on the magical high street, coat flapping behind her, hair a mess, pink pajamas in disarray, muddy hiking boots thudding against the cobblestones.
She had to find him. She hoped fervently he was still at the shop. She neared the door and a redhead was closing and locking it behind himself.
"George!" she called out and she saw Fred look up at her, shocked.
"No, he's gone ahead with Lee-" he pointed in the direction of the Leaky cauldron and Hermione blew past him, "Hermione are you alright?!" She answered with a vague flap of the hand over her shoulder so that he knew no one was dying and carried on dodging through the crowd.
She could see another ginger mop bobbing ahead and she barely had a breath to feel relieved.
"George!" she called again and pushed past more people, "George!" She vaguely registered him stop and cock his head, probably thinking he'd imagined someone calling his name. "George!"
At last his head turned above the crowd and Hermione beamed, still running. His face was confused, and a flicker of worry flashed over his face until he realized she was grinning and flushed and coming straight for him. Just a bit more, a bit more-
And she launched herself into his arms; he stumbled back a step before regaining his footing.
"Hermione?" his voice was muffled by her hair and her jacket as his arms held her tight and her booted toes dangled a few inches from the ground. "Are you okay?"
"I'm brilliant, fantastic but I couldn't wait - It was just too unbearable - How have you managed it? - I'm sure, George, I'm sure I want it. Kiss me, please kiss me -"
All the rushing words stopped when his lips met hers.
It was gentle and warm and he lowered her feet to the ground, leaning down as she stood on tiptoes. He kept one arm hooked around her small waist, cementing her front to his and keeping her from stumbling. The other palm was on her check with the fingers tangled in her messy hair, her ear in the hollow between his thumb and index finger and it was more glorious than it had been in her first dream when he had held her the very same way.
The entire world fell away and Hermione did not have the wherewithal to register the people still walking around them, Lee's devilish grin or Fred's knowing one. All there was was George's lips on hers with just the taunting promise of a brush of his tongue for a future kiss before all too soon he pulled away gently. All she could hear was their ragged breathing and the rushing sound in her ears and feel the burn of her cheeks and the elated bubble that had formed in her stomach.
"Needed that, did you?" he muttered, flush evident on his cheeks and he quirked one side of his lips up in a pleased smirk.
"Finally! I thought you two were going to pass out from oxygen deprivation! If you two are about done, Lee and I will see you inside after we have a good heave in the loo," Fred's voice leaked into the periphery.
"Yeah, disgusting," Lee teased and the two of them grinned at the couple still entwined in the middle of the cobblestone alley before turning and carrying on to the pub a few storefronts down.
"So..." George started, rubbing the back of his neck once he set her down completely and she took a small step back.
Hermione just smiled up at him and started laughing, one that came from the very bottom of her being and bubbled up and up and up until it broke out of her and George looked on with pleasure as she clutched her side. The irony of her actions considering how she had reacted when George had laughed at her admission after their last date was not lost on her.
"Yeah. I'm going to go back to the cabin, but thank you. I really did need that," she laughed.
She wrapped her arms around his middle and stood on tip toes to peck his cheek chastely and after she had let go and started back down to the other end of Diagon Alley, she had looked back at him. He was just standing there watching her retreating back and beaming; when he saw her look he raised a hand and she waved back and disappeared around the corner of the apparition point.
As she settled into bed later that night, she fell asleep with the taste of him still on her lips and sensation of his hand still on her cheek and the wonderful feeling of something being extremely right in her life.
A/N: Yes? :D
There are two songs I listened to for certain scenes of this chapter, both of which I find are too fitting not to mention for those of you who like that sort thing.
This Too Shall Pass - OK Go - For when Hermione stands in the storm and has a moment of clarity about everything turning out alright, especially the poignant last line.
Kiss Me - Jason Walker's cover of the song originally sung by Sixpence None The Richer - The end of the chapter with the build up being the dream, the peak of the song being the actual kiss and the slow ending being Hermione climbing into bed after.
If you guys like, I can leave any songs I draw inspiration from for relevant scenes in the Author's Note, just let me know if it's something you would be interested in. (There really isn't a tonne of them.)
Please leave me a review and let me know what you thought! Where do we go from here? (Bonus points if you sang that as the last line from the musical Buffy episode!)
Until next chapter.
Cheers!