Years From Now

Chapter 23

March 21, 2009

"Hermione!"

The brunette witch frowned at the call of her name. It came from Harry, who was in her apartment's living room and plainly annoyed with the fact that she was not there with him. They were meant to leave right now, yes, but she was not yet ready, something that was bothering her to no end. Being prepared was something Hermione prided herself on but it was unmistakable that she was not prepared in this moment and it perturbed her.

"Hermione!" Harry said again, raising his voice.

"I know!" she replied in a loud voice, furrowing her brow.

It was 7:45AM and Hermione was bustling around her room, collecting and throwing last minute necessities into the travel bag she was taking with her to Italy. She normally packed for a trip two nights before she took it but that had not been much of an option for her this past week; once Wednesday arrived, her workload had been immense and she barely managed to feed herself before falling into bed every night. The consequence of this was that she was now frantically gathering half of what she would need for the trip when she and Harry should have already left to catch the Portkey. Hermione had meant to wake up at 6:30AM to take care of packing but, being so worn out from the week, she unwittingly slept in and did not wake until Harry walked into her bedroom well after 7AM.

Hermione was highly frazzled as a result of being rushed and tired, and she was forgetting a few things, she knew, but nothing could be done for it. Don't let the potion be one of them!, she told herself as she eyed the bathroom. She had not grabbed her bottle of birth control potion after taking the fastest shower of her life so she would have to ensure it was taken on her way out of the room, as well as her jar of Sleekeazy's. The witch was meant to drink it as she did every Saturday morning but it would merely have to wait until she got to Italy, as desperately pressed for time as she was. Hermione huffed when she could not easily find a hair tie and wrenched open her bedside table's drawer, digging through it. She let out a heavy grumble because she knew Bastet had likely taken the ones she kept in plain sight to do goodness knew what with them during her playtime. That adorable but infernal cat drove her up the wall at times.

Hermione quickly straightened up and emitted a tiny gasp when another thought popped into her mind. The information from Gabrielle! She groaned as she chastised herself for almost forgetting something so vital. The French witch had sent all of the information for the shops they would be visiting via owl two days ago (e.g., names, location, contact people) and the trip would be off to a terrible start without it. She had just snatched the sheet of parchment from the bookshelf when two things happened at once: Harry called her name again in a biting tone and her cell phone rang. Hermione clenched her teeth and growled but she answered regardless, putting the phone to her ear as she continued to dart around her room.

"Hello?" she prompted.

"Good morning, lovely." Jean Granger jovially greeted.

"Mum, I don't have time to talk right now. We're leaving for Milan and we're going to be late."

"Oh, Milan, yes! For the bridesmaids and groomsmen!"

"Yes. The Portkey leaves at eight o'clock so I can't stay on the phone." Hermione shared.

"I'll be quick! It's just one question!" her mother declared.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry.

"Mum, I can't. I really have to go! I'm sorry," the young woman insisted.

"But-" Jean uttered.

"I'll answer the question when I get back, okay? Love you! Bye!"

The brunette ended the call and tossed her phone into the travel bag. She took a moment and then wildly looked around the room. Her wand had been in her hand before answering the phone- where was it now?

"Hermione, let's GO!" Harry yelled.

"I'm coming!," she barked, glaring at the doorway, "Accio wand!"

The piece of wood shot into her hand from halfway under one of her pillows and she scoffed, eyes on the ceiling, before she hurriedly shrunk her bag and put it in her jacket pocket. Hermione ran out of her room and into the living room where her fiance stood, looking tense and exceptionally irritated.

"Kreacher will come later to take Bastet to Grimmauld?" she questioned, taking the small urn of Floo powder and throwing it into the hearth. (The elf was going to care for her while both of her owners were gone).

"Yes," he curtly said, directing a deep frown her way, "If you would've let me help you pack your things we wouldn't be leaving the flat 10 minutes before the Porkety activates."

"And we will miss it if we keep talking needlessly."

With a disgruntled look of her own meant for him, she identified the Ministry's Atrium as her destination before moving forward and disappearing, and Harry rolled his eyes before following her into the fireplace.

The pair sped straight to the Department of Magical Transportation once in the Atrium, thankful that it was only two levels below. They had to confirm their identities, their destination, and the number of people traveling with them, which was standard procedure, but Harry wanted to shout at the worker that now was not the time to prove that he was actually Harry Potter. Incidentally, they were shown into their departing room with two minutes to spare and beheld their entire wedding party, present and staring at them.

"There you are!" Hannah exclaimed, expressing the relief they all felt.

"And here we were starting to think that you two said 'sod it' and decided to elope." George joked.

"Or that you'd gotten kidnapped," grinned Ron, "Don't know if we would've paid the ransom, though."

"Nope. Just late. Hermione, you can answer for that, right?" Harry responded, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She scowled at him but did not respond.

"Who has the other?" she questioned instead, holding up the ladle. The playful atmosphere instantly vanished at her tone.

"I-I do," reported Neville, showing the featherless quill.

"We've got to go. Who's coming with us?"

"Er... we will." Ginny offered, glancing at George. He nodded and stepped to the engaged couple alongside his sister after peering at the other four. Harry's and Hermione's succinct exchange had been stilted and informed the others that they were not in the best of moods, which made their friends wonder how this rocky start would affect the trip.

The Portkeys took them to the Italian villa they were renting for their two day stay. It was a beautiful home and had five bedrooms: one for each of the three couples, one for George, and one for Ginny. They explored and marveled at it before claiming their rooms, although Hermione and Harry got the biggest suite, and it was here that the redheaded maid of honor commented on the tension between the pair.

"Are you and Harrison in the middle of a row?" Ginny inquired as they stood in the opulent room. She watched as the Muggleborn removed a travel bag from her pocket and enlarged back to its regular size.

"No," Hermione negated, giving a weary sigh, "It was just a rough morning. For me."

"Why?"

"I overslept because I was exhausted from the week and I hadn't packed all I needed so I had to rush to get everything. Then Harry was crowing at me to hurry and that only made me more cross."

"Ah. Think a Cheering Charm would help?" the other woman pondered.

"It'll pass soon enough." Hermione attested with a shake of her head. They heard movement behind them and turned to see Harry walk into the room. He dumped his bag by the inside of the double doors then looked at the women.

"Hey. Come to the kitchen," he directed, eyes settling on his fiancee. When she gazed at him blankly and he realized how he sounded, he added, "Please."

The Auror exited the room as quick as he came and Ginny encouraged Hermione to go after him by waving at the brunette. She exhaled once more but did follow him, telling herself that Harry was not to blame for her work week, fatigue, or inability to pack in advance. She heard the voices of their friends through various parts of the home as she passed through and she glanced at all of the groomsmen in the spacious living room that had sweeping windows of the land beyond the villa. Harry was doing something on the counter with his back turned to her when Hermione got to the kitchen, and he spoke before she could say anything.

"Here," he uttered, moving to face her. He handed her a cup of tea.

"What's this?" she asked. She saw a couple, simple food items on the counter along with a thermos from which the tea had come.

"Breakfast. I made it after you insisted it would take longer if I helped you pack. I knew you needed to eat something so I brought it with me."

Harry's voice was a bit stiff but there was no anger in his expression as he peered at her. Hermione stared at the food and felt the warmth of the cup in her hands, and then her face scrunched up and her lip trembled. Even when they pushed one another's buttons, or had pushed one another too far, he was always thinking of her. It made her feel wholly secure in the knowledge that his love for her was unconditional.

Hermione set down the cup, rose on her toes, and put her arms around his neck. The wizard immediately held her around the middle.

"I'm sorry I was being horrid," she mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tight, "It was a hard week. I love you."

"I know," answered Harry. She released him and he bent down to kiss her mouth, a gesture she promptly returned.

"I know what I'm getting with you, Hermione. I want all of it," he mentioned, a slight smile on his lips. He handed her the cup again and she took it with her own smile, turning and resting her back against his chest. Harry's arms encircled her middle once more as he set his chin on the top of her hair and closed his eyes.

The group had two hours to settle at the villa until their first 11AM appointment. The wedding party was relieved to see that its future groom and bride were in one another's good graces shortly after arriving, and everyone gathered together and babbled about this and that until they had to go. For instance, Harry and Hermione shared how their visit with Viktor Krum had gone the previous weekend, even though the meeting had been splashed all over the papers come Monday. The pair met the Bulgarian wizard for lunch in magical Reading at Kennet Court and it had been an enjoyable meal. Accordingly, the wizarding population present that day had been stunned to see such three famous people out amongst them; it had not taken long at all before their presence was made known and they had a large number of spectators. However, used to staring and knowing to put up a number of different spells conducive to privacy, the trio took it in stride and caught up with each other as though they did not have flocks of people orbiting as close as the privacy magic would allow.

No one in the wedding party outside of Ginny and Harry had been to Milan, and they had only been before strictly due to their respective fields of work, which had left little time to appreciate the city. The group of eight would have time to survey the city after their second appointment of the day finished, although it would have to reconvene as one since the men and women would be separated for the second fitting. Only one appointment was scheduled for Sunday as Gabrielle had intended that they use the extra time to choose a boutique(s) and then revisit to make final arrangements. The second and third appointments were also when Harry was meant to pick his robe set, a feat that was assumed to be easier than finding Hermione's dress.

When they arrived at the first shop, they were greeted by a man with four other people dressed in light, stylish robes at his side. He introduced himself as the shop's foremost manager and seemed a hallmark of professionalism, although his fervor could be detected in his eyes. He assured them the shop was closed to outsiders during their appointment, a staple for every vendor they visited (excluding the women's time in America), and urged them to vocalize if they needed anything at all during their stay.

"Ms. Delacour already sent over your color scheme and style preferences so we will work from that for the dresses and robes," he announced, at which Hermione nodded, "Claudia and Gia will assist the ladies while Rocco and Emilio assist the men." He gestured at the four standing beside him and they waved merrily and gave casual greetings in Italian.

They were split apart for the next two hours, with the witches going to the left and the wizards going to the right. Pictures were taken for every robe set or dress they tried so they could be referenced later when making their final decision, although Harry was not planning on showing his robe set pictures to Hermione since he wanted his attire to be a surprise like hers would be. The group's second appointment began at 2:30PM and, because the two genders were going to separate shops, it was decided they would meet at the villa once done to get a consensus for their dinner and after hours plans. While Hermione sat waiting for her bridesmaids to change between different dresses during the second fitting, she thought of her trip to New York. A fond smile graced her features as she recalled the dress she had found and loved- loved enough to beckon unshed tears from her eyes. It had been during her fitting with Nora, actually, and she was immediately informed by the attendant and her friends that she looked breathtaking. Nevertheless, the Muggleborn did not buy it then and there and went to her first appointment the following day. However, the dress was an imperious thought that would not leave her mind after adorning it, enough so that she was distracted during Sunday's first fitting and cancelled her second one. Instead, she returned to an ecstatic Nora to order the dress and was informed she was making the right choice, a statement she had to agree with as she ran her hand over the sample dress with an entranced smile.

During the men's second fitting, Harry, for his part, noticed that he felt restless as he and his groomsmen donned and critiqued different robes. He had surely felt agitated during the morning and attributed it to Hermione's attitude, but that was settled and he still felt subtly on edge. Writing it off as a result of hoping to find the right attire for his half of the wedding party, he attuned to the process and how his friends made an arguably dull task better with their jocular conversation. It was decided that their outer robes would be more fitted instead of loose in order to show off what they were wearing underneath: slacks, a white dress shirt beneath a lapeled suit jacket, and a lilac tie. Consequently, Harry's robes were to be a bit more elaborate with a few extra details. It was also decided that, while all of the wizards had breast pockets, only the groom would have something in his: a sprig of lilac. Additionally, his tie was going to be sage in color as was Ron's, to designate his title as best man, although everyone's robes and the clothes underneath were meant to be wheat.

Hermione and Harry collaborated on the final choices the succeeding day after attending the third appointment of the weekend and eating lunch at the villa with their retinue. The others milled about the property as the couple, having already gotten input from their friends, made their picks, and they realized that the witches wanted dresses from the first shop while the wizards, including Harry, wanted sets from the third shop. They were happy to have identified everyone's ensembles so quickly and ventured to the respective boutiques to place their orders, aware of the fact that the last, important step of their wedding planning was now complete.


The restlessness Harry noticed in Italy did not abate once the new week commenced. Taylor Thorpe spent a good portion of the week trailing him in anticipation of her promotion as Captain and she noticed that, although Harry remained affable, he was more tense than usual and a little short on patience- with everyone. On Tuesday, he overheard a pair of 20 year old Aurors talking about Hermione's physical appeal after overseeing a sparring match and it did nothing good for his state of mind. He could not interject, however, because he was technically in the wrong for lingering to eavesdrop and because their remarks were not precisely vulgar. They were debating the merits of her appearance in a suggestive manner yet it was enough to make his blood boil.

"I might look more if she didn't wear robes. It's hard to agree that she's got fantastic tits with those in the way," one said.

"We all wear robes, you nob. And have you seen what's under the robes? Muggle clothes that show just how fit she is!" the other replied. The first Auror shrugged then mentioned:

"Maybe I can't see it because she's with Captain Potter. She's off limits so I don't even bother," He took a pause before continuing his train of thought, "Though… I have always stared the few times her hair's been down. Something about her like that is just completely shaggable."

"Yeah, so imagine that with no robes and a tight shirt. Fancy a call into her office then?"

They gave appreciative chuckles and Harry swiftly stormed off before his impulsivity could jump in and cause him to pop the young men in their faces, or something else equally unwise. He stewed over the conversation for hours, however, and internally berated those hormone driven idiots barely out of adolescence. Yes, Hermione did have wonderful breasts and her loose hair was enticing (perfect for grabbing during sex, in fact), but he did not want to hear those observations from random men! It reminded him of Garrick, of a handful of other wizards in the department whose eyes would follow her when she was in the vicinity. People were hardly ever as or more aggressive than the Hit Wizard but it could not be denied that the brunette garnered male attention, heightened by her fame and youth. Harry's reaction to anyone other than Garrick was typically tame because, like one of the young Aurors had observed, they knew she was taken, and by him at that.

But today, that was not enough for the dark haired wizard. Today, the conversation angered him and made his restlessness surge into full out agitation. Today, if he heard one more overt comment from a man about Hermione, he would threaten, hex, or punch him, the awaiting role of Chief be damned. Highly dissatisfied, he returned to his apartment when his shift ended and sent a text to Hermione asking if she would spend the night with him. She did not reply and it only fueled his agitation but he was appeased when she and Bastet Flooed into his living room after 7PM. Harry had already made dinner and the witch expressed her gratitude by kissing the side of his mouth, which stoked something inside the wizard that had been simmering since his eavesdropping.

Accordingly, in the 15 minutes before they sat down to eat, Hermione quickly noticed that Harry was not only quiet but was… hovering. Hovering and being handsy. And there seemed to be an edge to him. When she asked if something was the matter while wearing a cautious smile, he denied it and suggested they consume their meal. Bastet ran in between their feet and hunted one of her balls while they ate and Hermione prattled on about her day. Harry listened but he did have difficulty maintaining attention, namely because her appearance made him recall the conversation between the younger Aurors. The Muggleborn's hair was free in its natural state and she wore jeans and a snug tank top- 'Muggle clothes that showed just how fit she was.' It made his mouth twitch.

"Are you done?" he questioned some 20 minutes later. He wiped his mouth then threw his napkin down on his empty plate.

"Oh! Erm, yes. I suppose I am," Hermione said, peering at her own plate which was nearly empty. Harry made a gruff noise in response before using his wand to nonverbally send their dishes to the sink. He then pushed his chair back, stood up and reached over the table to take Hermione's wrist, and pulled her to him. He sat back down and she followed into his lap, straddling him. She only got to gaze at him in puzzlement for a moment before Harry grabbed her chin and branded red, hot kisses on her mouth.

"Harry, what's gotten into you?," she wondered with a laugh, pulling back when she felt his free hand slide down her back, "We've hardly finished our food!"

"I want you. I have since the afternoon," the Auror revealed, peering into her eyes. She blushed at the admission before a smirk molded her lips.

"Ah. So you really asked me to come over for a shag, then."

"Or two. Or three."

Hermione laughed again and tried to get up but Harry kept her firmly rooted on his lap. His right arm circled her waist while his left hand held the right side of her throat; his mouth, meanwhile, was sucking, licking and nibbling the left side.

You've been plotting for hours," she noted. She had started wiggling and he did not know if it was to escape his grasp or in reply to his ministrations. Ultimately, it did not matter because it was achieving the same effect on his crotch.

"Not really. This idea was spur of the moment." Harry murmured.

"Did your idea factor in a refusal from me?"

"Mmm. I thought the chances of that happening were very low, Madam Granger." He pushed her down on his stiffening member as he jerked up and Hermione gasped, hands flying to his shoulders. She stared into his eyes and saw electric magnetism, and it was inevitable after that.

Their clothes were off in an impressive amount of time. Harry persistently rubbed against her lips until she was so wet that he could not stand to wait a second longer, and then he was sliding inside.

"There we go, love," he breathed into her ear in a quivering voice. He held her still with his arms crossed against her back while Hermione gave a helpless moan. She reflexively clenched around him and Harry shut his eyes in bliss, bucking up.

It rapidly became intense. Initially, Harry was in control but, with Hermione on top, her pushes against him got more aggressive until the demanding movement of her hips took over. He was more than happy to follow her lead and let her body direct how his reacted, all while keeping his solid hold on her back. When they were not trading ravenous kisses, Harry's head rested against Hermione's neck and his adamant groans pervaded the air.

They had not done it like this- in this position on a chair- in Merlin knew how long. It was perfect. It was perfection. She was, and Harry, exulted, realized that no other man would ever get to experience this with her. Never from this point on. He would be the last, the one and only. Triumph and pride, aided by lust, blazed within him. Primal thoughts were soon to follow as their bodies moved faster and harder.

No one else would know how glorious it was having Hermione, being with her intimately. And no one had better even dare to try. That thought made him growl and bite down on her neck. No one would take this woman from him. No one. He would obliterate anyone who tried. Hermione was his. His, damn it. And everyone- Garrick, those idiot Aurors, the numerous other men who watched her- everyone needed to remember that! This is mine. It's all mine, Harry wildly thought as he panted heavily and stared at her, hands now glued on her backside. Her hair, her flushed, jiggling breasts, her hips that undulated frantically against him, the aching sounds that spilled from her mouth. All his. She's mine. Mine! Hermione is mine. Mine mine mine!

And that would be proven to the world when they married in seven weeks. It would be proven again when they started their family, proven to nameless wizards when her belly started to swell with HIS child and-

"F-Fuck," he choked out, eyes widening in recognition, "I'm gon- fuck!"

In the next second, Harry was overtaken by the spasms of an overwhelming orgasm. He crushed Hermione to him with fingers that clutched roughly at her ass, and he pumped up into her divine heat with unforgiving thrusts as he grunted like an animal.

With a now very limited window of time in which to snatch her own ecstasy, Hermione rocked against her fiance with abandon and desperate cries. She knew it would take but a hair to get the push she needed; she was already perilously close to finishing and now there was the added sensation of Harry absolutely filling her…. Four more slams against him and the brunette let out an almighty shriek. She threw her head back and thrashed about, continuing to bounce on his lap although now it was an involuntary reaction borne of her climax. The wizard grit his teeth to keep back a moan and maintained his hold on Hermione, his orgasm being drawn out unexpectedly with the arrival of hers.

They both completely sagged into useless masses once their mutual pleasure had tempered off. They were gasping for oxygen and coated in sweat that was already cooling, as well, but they were consequences well worth it.

"Oh, Harry…" she uttered in a sensual sigh as her hands skimmed weakly up his chest. He let out a tired chuckle and smiled, supposing he should probably thank those Auror trainees for being the ammunition to such a fiery coupling.

Harry climbed into bed later that night with a besotted fiancee, sated body, and cocky grin. Besides calming his atypical bout of possessiveness, he thought the sex they had would help his restlessness. He thought the physicality of it would be an excellent outlet to dispel much of his energy and clear the way for a more settled state. But that edginess was back Wednesday morning and lasted throughout the day, despite the fact that nothing happened to warrant it. Fortunately, Harry had a meeting with Ashlyn on Thursday afternoon that provided him a prime opportunity to analyze what was going on in his mind.

"I've felt restless since the weekend and it hasn't gone away," he reported after their obligatory check in.

"Oh? Why is that?" the mental Healer inquired.

"I don't know. But I realized yesterday that it's actually anxiety I've been feeling."

"Good! It's good that you were able to make the distinction. What have you done for alleviation?"

Harry thought about the fierce sex he and Hermione had two days ago and his cheeks reddened. As comfortable as he was sharing private aspects of his life with Ashlyn, certain things were best left unsaid.

"Not much…," he answered, "The wand rolling technique, but I do that without even realizing it. Muscle relaxation and breathing yesterday, once I understood it was anxiety."

"Do you have thoughts as to what has been causing your anxiety? Five days is a long time to be stuck with it." Ashlyn mentioned.

"No. Again, I don't really know."

"And that's fine. So, then, let's sort out why you may be feeling anxious."

"All right," agreed Harry.

"You said you've felt it since the weekend, and you told me you were in Italy during the weekend shopping for the wedding party. Did anything happen there that was difficult or emotional?" she pondered.

"No. It was a really good time. I was a bit nervous that I may not find a robe set but nothing beyond that."

"I see... Well, I do have a theory."

"I'm all ears," the Auror claimed with a half smile. Ashlyn smiled in return and then relayed:

"Italy was a reminder of your rapidly approaching wedding, which will be a massive change in your life. Change brings anxiety. And since it's persisted for days, it makes me wonder if there is anything about this week that stands out."

Harry's gaze dropped to the floor. There was a bout of silence before he spoke again.

"It's my dad's birthday tomorrow," he muttered. The Healer looked at him in understanding and with compassion but she did not verbalize anything.

"He would've been 49," Harry continued, "I… I'm going to visit his grave. I did it for my mum's birthday two months ago but I went alone, so, so I think I'll bring Hermione along this time."

The next round of silence was prolonged. Ashlyn peered at him while he sighed and sat with his thoughts.

"It's a good way to honor your father. To remember him," she eventually commented. Harry simply nodded.

"You've got a load of reminders of your past and future, Harry. Let's not forget you'll be sworn in as Head Auror in a few weeks. And, maybe, when you think of your future with Hermione- as your wife- your brain can't help but think of your father and his Muggleborn wife… and, ultimately, what happened to them. Thoughts that they should have been able to have a full life, that they should be present at your wedding." Ashlyn explained.

Staring at her, Harry was surprised when he felt moisture suddenly appear in his tear ducts. Her words hit hard and unexpectedly.

"It's no wonder you've felt anxious," the woman pressed on, "You have all these changes, all these reminders, and they're all connected. You're going to have many different feelings in these next couple months, some of which will repeat. Do you remember us talking about different life stages stirring up triggers?"

"Yes," the wizard replied, swallowing.

"You're in one hell of a life stage right now."

Harry nodded once more as a hand dove into his hair. He supposed that he really did not stop to consider the numerous changes that his life had undergone since the summer. They were substantial and appeared to be happening one right after another…. He was not truly processing them.

"So how about we dig deeper?" Ashlyn posed. The wizard looked up at her with a weary grin and nodded for a third time.

Harry unloaded during the session and, at the end of it, was encouraged by his Healer to talk more candidly with Hermione about the weight of his, and their, life transformations. He took the advice and did just that the succeeding day. The couple went to Godric's Hollow for half an hour in the evening to visit the Potters; afterward, they went to check on their vacant house in Reading and unintentionally stayed until 1AM, having a profound, honest conversation about the trajectory of their lives while they sat on fluffy blankets in the living room. They acknowledged that many wonderful things had occurred (and would occur) for them but they were also scary at times. They were all new and fast. In less than a year, they had gotten promotions, engaged, planned a wedding, searched for a house, bought a house, and in only a matter of weeks they would be married. Sometimes it felt like they did not have the opportunity to handle one development before something else was coming at them. Hermione stated that it rather made her feel older than she was and Harry remarked that it felt as though they had not gotten much time to themselves, for themselves. Just them.

"No, we haven't," she said, smiling adoringly at him while he kissed her palm, "But that's why I'm looking forward to our honeymoon so much. It'll be eight days of nothing but us- nothing but you- far, far away from everything we know."

"Ah. Eight days," he said, mirroring her smile, "And bonus for you because I won't have on a stitch of clothing that whole time."

"That seems to be your preferred state when I'm around." Hermione attested with a hearty laugh.

The pair's next meeting with Gabrielle happened nine days later on April 5th. They started by showing her pictures of the wizards' robes and bridesmaids' dresses they had chosen, which she fawned over.

"Everyone iz going to look incroyable!" she insisted.

Conversely, there were no big items left on their agenda to tackle so they took the time to review everything they had planned, scheduled, and secured, including confirmation of a renowned photographer from the Netherlands they had wanted. (They did not want a photographer from Britain, even a private one, because their awful experience with paparazzi had ruined all good associations for any of their countrymen with cameras). Hearing all the details of the wedding was fortifying and filled Harry with anticipation but some of this anticipation was for May 16th- the day when all of this would be over. When he and Hermione would be wed and he could have her solely to himself, far, far away from everything they knew.


A/N: I wanted to post a link to the inspiration I found for Harry's wedding attire but it seems I can't on FF. Does anyone know a way around this? I'd love to be able to share it, especially for Hermione's dress inspiration later on.

Take care of yourselves and your mental well being during these uncertain, difficult times, kids. It's a real struggle some days.