- I am in love with the feedback and support from you guys, thank you! I'm nervous about this one because I went through about 7 rewrites before coming to this point, so please let me know what you think (: plenty more coming and I try to get it out as soon as I can-

Rising from the ground, Harry embraced her, tightly. He didn't know how much time they had, and unfortunately, they had to spend it in the middle of a war zone. What he didn't tell her, was that while he was collapsed on the ground from the pain of the horcrux's being destroyed, he also had a vision and knew exactly what he needed to do.

"Neville!" Harry yelled, barely heard above the roar of action in the courtyard. Neville turned to him, the Death Eater from before now lying dead at his feet. "I need you to do something for me."

"What's up?" Neville asked, his face scrunched in concern.

"The snake that Voldemort always has with him. When the time comes, you need to kill it."

"How would I--"

"You'll just know. Trust me."

With that, Harry turned and faced Hermione, close behind him. She looked up at him, clearly worried.

"Stay here and fight, do anything you can to help the others." He told her.

"And where will you be?" she asked, her brows furrowing.He sighed, completely at a loss for words. What could he say to make this better for her? He couldn't think of anything and decided that he would have to tell her the truth.

"Hermione…I have to go, " he began, and noticed tears beginning to prick her eyes. "You know I do. It's the last piece of the puzzle, " he continued, cupping her face in one hand and lightly brushing her hair with the other.

She watched him intensely, ignoring all of the background noises and flashes of light, not wanting to lose this memory of him. "…and Hermione? I love you, so much. If you truly are pregnant with our child, and I…I can't be here… make sure they know how much I love them too. I will love anything that is part of you." With that, he wiped a tear from her cheek, and turned away from her.

He couldn't look back. He couldn't face the pain he knew was surely on her face from his words. He never wanted to hurt her, but this was something that he knew had to be done, and he was terrified.

At the entrance of the forest, he finally turned back, his one last look of the school and its grounds. Though it was entirely covered in darkness, and black smoke filled the air, illuminated by the spells cast by witches and wizards beneath it, he still recalled the first night he came here.

Led by wooden boats lit by lanterns, he recalled what he felt, taking in the size of the school and the magic that seemed to radiate from it. He remembered Dumbledore, Hagrid, and his two closest friends. Although he felt himself beginning to tear, he forced himself to smile, refusing to go out anything but content in his life.

Remembering the small golden ball in his pocket, he took it, admired it for a moment, and allowed the memories of Quidditch to fill his mind. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to the snitch one last time. To his amazement, the ball opened at it's center, revealing a small stone, the stone of resurrection. "I open at the close…" he said to himself. Ofcourse, he thought. This was the end, and likewise, it had revealed itself to him. Taking the stone in his palm, he looked up, and gasped. They were there, before him. All of them! His parents, his godfather, and Lupin.

He turned to his godfather first.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"What? Dying?" he replied, then smiled.

"Faster than going to sleep." He finished.

Turning to Lupin next, Harry said, keeping back tears, "I didn't want you to die. Any of you," Taking in the rest of his loved ones within the small circle surrounding him, he thought of the life that could have been. He could have married the love his life, he could have been there to watch their child grow up. He could have been a godfather. "Your son--"

"Will know what we died for, some day." Harry smiled and gave a curt nod. Turning to his parents, he asked, "Can anyone see you?"

"We are here," Sirius said, placing his ghostly hand above his heart. "only you can see us". Harry nodded again. Looking into his mother's eyes, he felt every emotion within them, and he wished he could have spent his life knowing her.

"Stay with me?" he asked. His mother nodded.

"Until the very end" his father added. With that, he stepped into the entrance of the forest. A few feet into the heavily wooded area before him, he consciously dropped the resurrection stone, in hopes that no one would ever discover it. He heard men talking in the distance not far from him, and he moved toward it, his heart racing.

"He has not come, my lord. The boy… he did not come" he heard someone say.

"I was so sure that he would…" it was Voldemort, he knew.

To Harry's surprise, his voice found him.

"I am here" Harry said, bringing the focus of each Death Eater, and Hagrid, to him.

"Harry, no…" Hagrid drew out. He was tied between two large posts. Harry didn't want Hagrid to watch him die, but there was just no other option. His eyes locked on his friend's, he had tried to tell Hagrid everything in just a look. He wanted him to know how much his friendship had meant to him. He wanted to tell him how much he had enjoyed his company. As if in understanding, Hagrid gave a small nod, a single tear falling down his rough, bearded cheek.

*Post Death*

Upon his conscious return, he first heard light murmurs.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort boomed.

"Is he dead?" he asked Narcissa. Then, footsteps moving toward him. Feeling a hand lightly placed on his shoulder, the woman leaned over him slightly. She had felt the slight movement from his breathing.

"Is he alive? My boy, is he alive? Is he in the castle?" came her concerned voice, in the lowest of whispers. He nodded, just enough for only her to notice.

Standing, she faced away from him and toward her master. "The boy is dead." She said in a flat, toneless voice. Cheers erupted around him, and he was soon lifted into Hagrids arms, a demand from Voldemort so that Hagrid could fully understand the power in which he held.

"Harry Potter…is DEAD!" Voldemort announced as he approached the schools court yard.

"NO!!!!" it was Hermione, pushing through the crowd of students and professors that separated her from him. Oh, how he wished there was some way to tell her that he was alright, but any movement from him could inform everyone that he was indeed still alive. Hagrid slowly bent to release Harry from his grasp, and laid him carefully on the rubble at his feet.

Hermione bent over him, her body shaking in agony, unable to feel the breath within him still. Her scent alone had made him wish he could simply stand and hold her within his arms in that moment. He wished he could alleviate all concern and hurt from her.

Suddenly, she had moved away from him, and Harry could only imagine that Voldemort had moved closer. Surely, nothing else would make her move away from him in that instant. The loss of her presence by his side had made him feel cold and hollow. He would somehow have to muster the strength to defeat Voldemort.

"I have killed the infamous Harry Potter… the boy who lived…" he sneered, continuing. " while he ran away from those who fought for him, he ran away from all of you… and yet still, you stand before me, truly believing hat you could ever defeat me" his laughter then was accompanied by the cold jeers and laughter of his followers.

Neville woke in the main hall, his head on fire. Slowly sitting up, his eyesight was fogged momentarily. When the fog cleared, he saw the continuing fight around him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed something laying beside him—it was the sorting hat, and in it, held the Gryffindor sword.

Taking it in his hand, he immediately ran to the court yard where the main action had taken place before he was knocked out. He came out to find the courtyard divided in two, one side holding Voldemort and his surviving followers, and the other with the rest of the students and faculty.

Searching for the snake, he found it slithering beside Voldemort, all enchantments removed. He threw a light stone at it, hoping to catch it's attention without anyone else noticing. Unsuccessful in his first attempt, he saw Harry, lying there in the center of the area. His heart plummeted and he knew this was the moment Harry was talking about.

Picking up another stone, Neville found more strength within him, determined to follow through with Harry's last request of him. This time, he was successful, and the snake began moving toward him. Voldemort's back was turned during his taunting of the other students and hadn't noticed his beloved snake leaving.

Running towards the main stair case, the snake was right on his heels. He slipped and fell onto the landing, the sword still gripped tightly in his hand. The snake hovered over him, mouth open, ready to strike. With one swift movement, Neville slashed the sword directly across the neck, separating its head from its body. What Neville had expected was for the body to fall slack, for the head to land loudly beside him on to the stone flooring. Instead, the snake had disappeared entirely, leaving behind a black smoke that some how managed to resemble death.

He was exhausted. Laying back on the stairs, he heard running footsteps. He hurled himself upright once more, prepared to fight still. Instead, he found Luna racing toward him. His heart skipped a beat.

"Luna!"

"Neville! Are you alright?" came her high pitched, but mellow voice.

"Oh! I'm- I'm fine." He replied, blushing. Luna still didn't know how he felt about her, but he would need to tell her. He was almost certain that they wouldn't make it out of this alive. "Luna?" he asked, turning to face her as she sat down beside him. "I need to tell you something. I--" and then her lips were on his, her hand lightly taking one of his.

Surprised, he pulled away and looked at her. She was entirely confident and had shown no remorse for her actions. He was glad for that. "I know. I've known for a while…" she said, finishing her train of thought. His eyes went wide for a moment, surprised that she had known. He was certain that no one else had picked up on it, as he hadn't ever mentioned it before.

With Voldemort's back still turned and the death eaters distracted by fighting off those that still retaliated, Harry slowly rose to his feet. Hearing the gasps of surprise and light laughter, Voldemort turned sharply. Before him, was something had never planned for, never expected. Surely, it wasn't possible. But still, there he was—Harry Potter was standing before him, clearly alive as he withdrew his wand, and pointed it directly at him.

Letting out an angry, gritted yell, he lunged forward, his wand outstretched in return. Between the two, they battled. Harry had decided that no one else could help—he had to be the one to kill him. Though it took years to fully understand his life-long battle with this evil, he had always known it would come back to this.

He had just watched what was very minimally considered a man, turn into ash. He stood silently, staring at the pile of what was left of him. After all these years, and the recent amount of work he had to put in to defeating him, it had finally paid off, though he could never get back the lives that were lost in his honor.

Hermione flung herself toward him, breaking his focus. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, holding her head into his shoulder tightly. He could feel every spasm in her body, telling him that she was sobbing into him, and hard.

Pulling her face from his, he bent to her, forcing her eyes onto his. She looked overwhelmed, probably in shock. There were too many things going on to be able to understand all at once. She was the most intelligent woman he had ever known, but emotions had a way of getting the best of you.

"It's alright, Hermione. Everything is alright." He said, and placed a kiss between her eyes. Her skin was rough and tasted like dirt, but he had hardly noticed. Their faces never losing contact, he slid his lips down until they met hers. Their light brush of a kiss was salty and wet from her shed tears, but neither of them had minded. They were alive, and they were together.

Retreating back to the others, Harry was welcomed with cheers. He smiled broadly, and took in the survivors there with him. Catching the eye of the Molly and Arthur, he internally shrunk. They had been the closest thing he had ever had to a family—well, and the group from the order of the Phoenix. He had become close with their youngest son, to turn around and go after the one person Ron really cared about. It made him feel sick, even though the looks coming from them were that of love and pride.

Molly turned to Arthur then, and in a whisper she told her husband, "Go talk with him. He's our son too and he should know that." Arthur nodded and released his arm that was previously wrapped around his wife. Placing himself in front of Harry moments later, he placed a hand on his shoulder. Despite the recent events, Arthur found Harry to be stable still, and unshaken.

"Harry, we are so proud of you son." Arthur told him. Harry's eyes teared slightly and his mouth slackened some. Watching his eyes brighten some, Arthur continued. "We know about you and Hermione. We all do. Yes, Ginny and Ron too, " he added as he saw the question in Harry's dark eyes. "and it's alright son. You've had enough misery in your life, you could do with some happiness I'd say." He finished, and pulled Harry in to a hug.

Harry didn't know how to respond, but he was entirely relieved. Of course he would lose relationships if he had to in order to keep Hermione, but he was so glad that he didn't have to. Harry pulled back from Arthur. "Thank you sir…that means a lot. For both of us." He said, his hand reaching behind him to find hers, then bringing her to his side. Arthur beamed and pulled them both into a tight hug. Releasing them, he turned and headed back to where Molly stood, giving them one last smile as he did.

Harry's breath caught for a moment, caught off guard by their full acceptance of him, and of him being with Hermione. Surely Ron wasn't happy about it, but they would get to that. Looking over to Hermione now, nothing else really mattered. Harry took in her dark eyes, the rough shape her hair was in, and the tattered clothing that covered her—and he had never been more mesmerized by her beauty.

Taking his hand in hers, Hermione led him away from the crowd. Harry followed close behind her, taking in the scenery as they passed. The entire area was covered in rubble from rebounded curses, and each remaining survivor was getting treated for their wounds by the well enough professors. As he took in each professor in view, he remembered his time with Professor Snape. It was true that he didn't have any particularly "good" memories of him, but knowing that he had sacrificed his entire life for his mother, and in turn for him, made Harry picture their moments together in a different light. His hand crossing over his face, he found another tear had slipped from his eyes in memory of him.

Taking his eyes from what was now behind him, his focus was once again on her. The sky had cleared and the new light had shone, illuminating her hair that flowed easily half way down her back. Even after a war, she was breath taking. He stared at her in awe, genuinely obsessed with her in that moment.

Climbing up a destroyed rubble covered path, they found themselves on the bridge that led to the schools entrance. Hermione stood on the edge and looked out over the water. His eyes still on her, she turned to him, expressionless.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you…still stay? Now that the war is over?"

Harry heard her draw out the end of her question, clearly still worried that he would leave her at any moment. He hated the fact that she felt that way, but after everything that had happened to them, she was right to have trust issues. Maybe not so much to have trust issues in him, per se, but that couldn't very well be controlled. That would only take time. Walking over to where she stood, his eyes locked on hers seriously. "I'm not going anywhere, ever."

She sighed and her lips lifted into a smile. Her eyes shone more then, before she looked away, back at the water.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked in return. "I mean…where do we live, what do we do about the school? Nothing could ever be the same again…" she continued, lost in thought. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"We will figure that all out soon enough."

She smiled, knowing that he was right. They would sort this all out once their heads cleared. Enlightened, she turned to him, her eyes bright. His brows rose, seeing her new demeanor.

"What?" he said, laughing. He couldn't help it. The amount of happiness spread across her face made him feel amazing.

"The Elder wand…" she began, speaking softly. He almost hadn't heard her at all. He had planned to destroy the wand with the idea that no single person should ever possess so much power. "We could build a home. We could have everything we need…" she finished, drawing out the last part as she watched his mood shift.

His eyes shifted downward, no longer meeting hers. His body had slouched some, and she was certain that she knew exactly what he was about to say.

"Hermione…I had planned to destroy it. I think you understand why."

"Couldn't we just use it for a few things, then you could--"

"You know…I think you're right." He interrupted, smiling. "It would be nice to be able to at least start our lives off the right way."

She beamed at him, and it was a smile that made his heart damn near beat right out of his chest. Her arms looped around the back of his neck, and leaning in, she kissed him softly, entirely convinced that they would lead a long, happy life together.

A full three days later, the two had finally found the perfect location for their new home. They had fallen in love with the location of the it tent, the very night that Ron had left. Conjuring spells to place ownership over the land, which included the lake in the clearing and the stream by which their home would sit, they set off to build their home.

The foundation was built first and Hermione had insisted on having a view of the stream—the result led to an entire back wall of the house being purely glass so that she could see out in that direction from any location within the home. She had smiled wide when it was finished, completely convinced that she had won. In all actuality, however, Harry hadn't minded the idea one bit. He knew it would be a spectacular way to start and end their days together—he simply enjoyed getting a rise from her, so he had "argued" the idea until he "gave in". Surely he could make a good husband to her if he had mastered that one detail.

With that idea in mind, he could have flung himself over a cliff for forgetting. Two days prior, they had stopped in Diagon Alley where he had found a jewelry shop as Hermione and Ginny went to visit old friends from before the war, before that entire alley had become deserted. Setting his eyes on one ring in particular, he had set off back to find who he had hoped would soon become his wife.

Stepping into the foundation of the home to inspect the interior, Hermione smiled. It was all coming together, their house. Their home. The idea made her down right giddy. She pictured where they would have long nights together on the sofa, where they would spend meals. She even went as far as to imagine what colors they would have in a nursery, because if she wasn't pregnant now, maybe they would be in the future, and hopefully not by accident. Hearing footsteps on the hard wood floor behind her, she turned.

"Harry…" she whispered as her eyes locked on his, below her, on one knee.

"Hermione?" he asked, roughly. He cleared his throat.

"Yes?" she asked in return, a mere whisper on her lips. Her voice had come out a tad higher than what was normal for her, and her eyes widened slightly.

"Would you marry me?"

Her hand flew to her mouth, and despite it, giggles erupted from her lips.

"Yes, of course!" and as he stood, she flung herself into his arms. He lifted her from the ground momentarily, drawing her in for a deep, long kiss. It was then that she noticed that he was holding a small box. She pulled away from him to see what it was—and she gasped.

The ring within the black velvet encasing was stunning but petite. The center had a rather sizable emerald, and down two sides had laid 3 small diamonds. The band itself was silver in color. She thought it was absolutely perfect for her, it just felt right.

His face bright, eyes bright, he beamed down at her. He didn't know if he would ever get over how stunning she always was when she was happy. Her eyes were bright, her lips in a constant smile, and one single adorable hair that fell into her face. He was thoroughly enjoying every single inch of her.

"I engraved it." He said, turning it over. Within the underside of the silver band, Hermione read it silently. She read it two more times, her eyes tracing left to right, her smile widening with each turn. Finally, she read it allowed, looking up at him.

"Then, now, and forever." She said, her voice a coo.

"It sounds so much better when you say it."

Her eyes crinkled now from how broadly she was smiling, and her cheeks were flushed a bright pink. Brushing the single strand from her face, her eyes searched his. She saw so much love within them, that it made her seriously question how she had never noticed his liking her in their previous years.

"Let's finish our home." She said, pulling him outside. They were both eager to see the finished result, and eager to live out their lives within it. Drawing their wands, they completed the outer door, windows, and siding--deciding on a dark wood with a light stone base, black framed door and windows, and a matching roof with a skylight.

He turned to her, watching the light radiate from her and how good she felt in that moment. Her hair was pulled into loose bun and she was wearing a new navy blue cotton dress that hung two inches above her mid-thigh. She was radiant.

Sensing his gaze on her, she tore herself from the beauty of their home and turned to look at him.

Smiling at her, he asked, "Is it too your liking then?" in a surprisingly impressive impression of her. That made her quirk a sarcastic smile in his direction, as she let out a small "hmph" noise. "Alright, alright. On to the next project." He said laughing. He saw a single brow lift, and he followed with, "the inside". She smiled, open mouthed.

"Ooh!! The fun stuff!" she exclaimed, and he rolled his eyes. The outside wasn't enough for her as it was? He questioned internally. This should he fun, he thought. Watching her dance across the entry way, he smiled to himself, and followed her inside.

"How could you have already started!?" He asked, as he took in the interior of their home. She had only been inside mere seconds before he was, and somehow she had managed to set up the entire living room and was rushing in to the kitchen.

"Okay, no. No way. I get dibs on the kitchen. " he said in a mock fury, crossing his arms over his chest. She laughed lightly and continued. Damn, he thought. He would have to redo that later.

"You know, I never had you pinned for cabin style." He yelled to her, as now a half wall separated them. She had set out a large dark brown microfiber sectional with 2 matching arm chairs on each side and a drift wood styled coffee table with a fully clear glass top. She chose white knit blankets to accessorize and they matched the walls of the room perfectly.

Adding a large white rug below the furniture, a large fireplace encased in a wooden plank accent wall, and some tall green floor plants in the corners of the room, Hermione finally returned.

"If it took you two seconds to put this room together, I can't imagine what you've done to the kitchen in ten." He said, turning to her. He smirked at her and she returned the gesture, closing the distance between them.

"Oh, I don't think you'll be too upset with me. Go take a look." She said, her arm outstretched leading his way to the kitchen. Stepping into the room, Harry took in the rather large area. The walls were a bright, clean white that matched the living room, and was in low contrast to the flooring. Unlike the deep hard wood in the living area, the kitchen had a very light and weathered wood. The counters matched the flooring perfectly, and the counter tops were—was that white stone? He asked himself, his jaw dropping. It literally matched the stone on the base of their home and it worked beautifully with the wood she chose for that room.

Moving to the other side of the island to see more of the room, he found that she had also chosen a very light brass colored faucet and sink and he realized then that they coincided with the hardware in the cabinetry. He was extremely impressed that she had done all of this. Though he didn't have much knowledge on this sort of thing -or any for that matter- but the room was visually appealing to him in every way.

Day dreaming about their future meals in that room together, he found himself turning to see the kitchen table. His eyes widened and he was momentarily speechless. No one had ever shown so much thought in a single item for him before.

"Hermione?" It was lower than intended, his throat beginning to close as tears stung his eyes. Still though, she heard him, being only a few feet from him during his exploration of her work.

"It's the same one… I thought you'd like something from his home." She replied softly, secretly hoping that she hadn't overstepped an unspoken boundary. It was his godfathers kitchen table before he passed, and she knew how important he was to Harry. She wanted to provide him with a daily reminder of him and Harry's time in his home.

"It's… it's perfect… I can't tell you what it means to have this here." He replied, running his hands along the rough wood of the old table, determined. Finally, he found the corner where he had once carved his initials in to it, a request of his godfathers at the time, as the other members of his family had all done the same.

The tears that had pricked his eyes now fell freely down the side of his face. It was silent cry, and his body did not shake. It was a happy sort of sad—he was overjoyed with her love for him and her thought to allow him this, and he reveled in his memories of Sirius as he looked at the table. Those memories made him sad that he had lost someone he felt so connected with.

Hermione came to his side then, resting a hand on the low of his back. Her touch was soft and warm, soothing him. As though in a mute conversation between the two, they stood at the table in silence, the presence of the other keeping them both at ease. The room was not filled with sadness, but rather extreme happiness and contentment, and they both knew it would soon infect the entire home, allowing them to live daily in an entire aura of complete and utter joy.

After several minutes had passed, Harry finally lifted his head. His eyes now dry of tears and shining brightly from their previous essence, he looked around the room once more. Deciding he would later put in a larger refrigerator and stove, he began a slow walk toward the bedrooms. Hermione followed him through a hall in the front of the house and found him at the door on the end, the door to what would be their master bedroom.

"Can we do this room now?" he asked, all previous worries lifted. He was playful again, and nudged her as such, causing her to laugh, loudly. Giving in, she gestured for him to proceed and as she did so, he eagerly turned the brass knob.

Harry took in the space, accounting for every inch and visualizing what he wanted and where, of course still with the sight of what Hermione would want. Taking in his excitement, Hermione let out a low chuckle. Hearing her, Harry turned, his brows together.

"What?" he asked seriously.

"Would you like a moment to play? I was going to see about space for a small library anyway." She asked. She wanted to give him a space that he felt comfortable in, a space that they would certainly spend most of their time together considering that sleep alone took usually no less than 10 hours from a full day. Watching him slip a small smile at her, she turned and headed for the other side of the house, in search of the best place for her books.

Raising his wand, he began to dress the room. The walls remained bright, a theme he enjoyed about the home. Choosing a wood flooring complimentary of the kitchen, he chose a long black rug that the bed would sit upon. Next, he sat a long dark wood chest with a cushioned top along the full window, giving Hermione a space to read in their bedroom.

When it was time to address the bed, he chose a four poster king with a black painted wood base. To cover, he placed sheets of white silk, an oversized comforter that was dark blue in color and four long sleep pillows for them each. Standing at what was now the foot of the bed, Harry's thoughts and visions of them together in this home rose once more.

He pictured waking to her each morning, and serving her breakfast in bed when she got sick. He imagined the long nights wrapped in each others arms and the feel of her breath on him as she fell asleep… he couldn't think about that. As many things as he could picture with her in this bed, he wanted to stay calm right now, to give them some time to relax again after so much had happened to them both—and the though of her breath on him did not make that easy.

Adjusting his already slightly grown erection so that Hermione wouldn't notice, he left the room. He walked back down the hall, keeping an ear out for Hermione. When he couldn't hear where she was, he called out to her.

"Hermione?"

"In here!" she called back.

He turned to his left, following the sound of her voice and soon found her in a newly added small study--so new that it had not been part of the foundation that they had originally laid. He took in the area, about as wide as the so-called bedroom he once had beneath the stairs at his aunt and uncles, and reached to the ceiling. There was just enough room to walk around the two arm chairs Hermione had placed in the center of the room, along with a small coffee table between them.

"I'm impressed… this looks amazing." He said honestly. It really was quite impressive, what she had done with the room. She had clearly brought in many more books than what she owned, as each spot on the shelves had a resident, and there had to have been over a few hundred presently. Her cheeks warmed and she smiled up at him from her seated position in the chair, her hands already turning a page of a book.

"Yes, I like it. You may have to drag me out some nights." She teased.

"Some nights!?" he replied, laughing. "it'll be damn near all I would think. I never could pull you from a book." As he said this, he immediately pondered the idea. Had he ever pulled her from a book? He had been joking but now he really couldn't think of a time that he had.

"Alright, fair. Now," she said, closing her book and placing it on the table in front of her. " Can I see what you've done to our room?"

"Mm, don't make it sound like you don't trust me." He said, forming a too-large pout. Hermione couldn't help herself and burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, fine!" she finally got out. "Let's go."

Leading the way, Hermione was curious to see their bedroom. Harry stood just past the door frame and watched her observe, attempting to gain any idea as to how she felt about it. He rather liked it, and found that it went well with the rest of the house. It was simple, clean, and comfortable.

At first, she was entirely unreadable. She had shown no emotion at all, until her eyes met the window. This response was exactly what he had assumed from her—genuinely taking it all in but leaving her opinions for after, then losing her composure at the window bench he had set up for her. Her head slowly moving from the bench to him, the corners of her mouth began to perk up, eliminating her poker face.

"I thought you might enjoy a scenic reading spot, with the comfort of our bedroom." Harry said to her, an explanation that he knew wasn't necessary. She knew him, and she knew his heart. The small perk of her lips stretched into a sweet smile, the kind that she gave when she told you she was proud about something. In that moment, he knew that her sense of pride, was within him.

She moved toward him and pressed her body into his. Harry had been able to conceal his slightly erect sex, but now it was damn near impossible. Taking his chin, she bent him downward to his her. It was a quick kiss, and she had kept their mouths close when she parted from him.

"Thank you. Its perfect." She said, a soft coo. The tone in her voice sparked something within him, his love for her overwhelming him.

"I'm glad you like it."

"It's getting dark, could we go out and look at the stars?" She asked, noticing the sun creeping over the horizon, restricting them of their natural light. The deep orange light that rose over the mountain side had cast over the stream and it created a narrow stream of light through the window. The entire imagery of it all was almost moving in a way.

"That sounds brilliant." He said, eager to have these ordinary moments with her. The amount of which he enjoyed their life in the past few days made him realize just how much they really had to deal with. For him, it began when he was born—life was at it's best when he had a run in with a troll…and that was something to be said. Hermione had the last six years and Harry hated himself for it, considering he was the sole cause of everything bad that happened at Hogwarts.

Shaking that aspect from his mind, he brought his focus back to Hermione, who had taken his hand and began leading him outside by the stream. Her fingers were intertwined with his and he played with the ring within them. With a final half skip, she arrived at the spot she had silently deemed 'perfect' for star gazing. He only just then noticed that she had brought her charmed bag with her, as she drew out two large blankets. Hermione set one blanket down, and motioned for him to sit beside her. He did so, moving as closely into her as he could find comfortable, then pulled the second blanket to cover them both.

"This is amazing…" Hermione cooed, in awe of their surroundings. Day or night, the area was breathtaking and filled with an energy that simply made you want to be there. Her fascination came from everything around her—the smell that the water carried from the mountains that drafted pine and lake water, the cool air around her, the view of the never ending stars above them. Then there was him, beside her, casually touching her in so many areas, the smell of his woodsy soap… it made her head spin.

"Can you see the bear? In the stars? Just there. " Harry asked, pointing so that she could follow his line of sight, and nudging her playfully. She giggled at his child-like game, enjoying the fact that he found joy in the small things. She removed her gaze from his lips, a fact she was unaware of having done in the first place, and turned her head to follow where he was pointing to.

"Oh, yes! Yes, I see it. I've never noticed that before, but now it seems so obviously there." She remarked, with an appreciation to the irony. He looked down on to her face then, taking in her bright, wide eyes, curious and exploring. She caught his gaze from the corner of her eye and she looked to him, instantly knowing what was about to happen.

--thank you guys for taking time on these, I personally don't like super short stories. the next bit coming will be almost entirely sexual, just a heads up--