Bird seed and fairy dust filled the air when newlywed couple emerged from the gallery, bags in hand for their honeymoon trip. Hermione laughed when a bag of bird seed became lodged behind Harry's glasses.

"Surprise!" Grace exclaimed when they saw the stretch limo at the end of the walk. "You get to go away in style!"

Hermione threw her bouquet and they got into the car. She let out a breath and relaxed against the seat.

"Still think we should have just eloped?" he asked and placed her feet in his lap.

"It would have been so much easier, today was just as much for our friends and family as it was for us. Mum got her mother-of-the-bride day, and dad got to walk me down the aisle. I almost cried myself when she handed him a handkerchief. "

At the same time the newlyweds were at Heathrow boarding their plane, Grace and Molly were trying their best to send people home with a piece of cake and unopened bottles of wine.

"I think we over-did it, but it was only the best for my girl today," Grace said.

"It's better to have it and not need it-" Molly said.

"Than need it and not have it," Grace finished.

Ginny and Katie were solving the problem of getting the small mountain of wedding gifts back to Grimmauld Place. Ian wanted to leave so that Evie could be put to bed.

"I'll take you," Ron offered.

"I'm going to be here a while, I don't meet with the gallery manager until seven," Grace said, kissing her husband and sleeping daughter, draped and drooling on Ian's shoulder.

Katie gave Ron a most approving look when he took the nappy bag and take-away plate so that Ian's hands would be free.

"I'm sure they're going to have a lovely time in Paris," Molly said. "We've been to Egypt, but nowhere else. It's kind of hard to believe, now that I think about it. All of our kids are gone, we should be traveling."

"We used to holiday there every summer, so many memories..." Grace said wistfully, thinking of a lifetime of books, pictures, mementos, and keepsakes that were lost in the house fire.

In front of De Gaulle Airport, Hermione popped a jellybean into her mouth and yawned, causing the candy to roll from her mouth.

"Tired love?" Harry asked and hailed a taxi.

A taxi pulled to the curb and Hermione told the driver their destination and carried on a conversation as they drove through the city. Harry was flabbergasted at her fluency. He knew a few words here and there, due to his work with the Administration Française Magical, but she spoke it like a native.

"It's beautiful at night, isn't it?" she asked him, pointing to the large arc ahead on the Champs Elysees.

"I've been to Paris twice, but I never got around to seeing the sights, it was always work related," he said.

"My poor deprived Harry," she said, patting his chest and snuggling into his side.

"Merde!" the driver called out and honked his horn.

"What's that mean?" Harry asked.

Hermione chuckled. "He made an observation of someone's dodgy driving skills."

The taxi came to a stop in front of the legendary George V hotel. He paid the driver, included a generous tip and took their bags from the boot.

"I think it's amazing that we're staying here," Hermione said, walking wide-eyed through the front doors.

"It's what your dad recommended when I said that money wasn't an issue," Harry said.

"I'll ooh and ahh over the splendor in the morning, just give me a bed," she said.

The next morning, Harry hurried to the door when knocking was heard. He glanced back to the bed and saw that she was still asleep. She was such a heavy sleeper! If so much as a leaf fell outside, he was awake. He paid the server and wheeled the food laden cart inside. She came into awareness upon feeling a gentle massage on her back. She blinked to clear the sleepy haze and sudden light. Harry was sitting there in a hotel robe, massaging her back with a gentle smile on his face.

"Good morning, my beautiful sleepyhead," he said.

She laid her arms across her eyes. "I fell asleep on my honeymoon night. Some wife I am."

He chortled. "You were asleep before your head hit the pillow, mumbling something about cake. Honeymoon night or not, we're still just as married. I fell asleep with my wife in my arms. Sounds like a good night to me."

And once again, her heart melted. She felt her eyes well with tears and patted her eyes with the sheet. "Weepy again."

"No worries love, dry your eyes and behold this," he said and wheeled the cart bed-side.

"Paaarfait," she said and reached for a plate of fruit.

"So, what's first?" he asked.

She swallowed and spoke. "Hmm...the Arc and the Eiffel Tower are in walking distance, and we're in the heart of The Golden Triangle for some excellent shopping opportunities. The Left Bank isn't far either. A Metro pass would be a good idea for the rest of the city."

After a sumptuous supper in Le Cinq, the hotel restaurant, they decided to unwind in the hotel swimming pool after a long day of touring. Comfort charms could only go so far, so the pool was a welcome relief. Harry took in the grandeur of the pool area to include a romancing couple in the hot tub. His lips twitched at the sight of a man who almost tripped while on a treadmill in the adjoining fitness area.

"I'd like to have something like this at home," he said.

"And just where would you put it? The back garden barely has enough room for a chair as it is," she said.

"So you don't object to the idea?" he asked.

"Of course not, this is fantastic," she said and floated into his waiting arms.

He kissed her neck and massaged her lower back, causing her to groan in approval and let her head fall back on his shoulder. He let his hands rest on her growing bulge.

"I could find a nice bit of land out in the country, have a house built, even with a pool just like this. For you, I would. All you have to do is say so," he said.

She thought he was being a bit whimsical, so she shrugged and played along, describing her dream home. "Sure, why not? We can have Italian marble floors, impressive sculptures and paintings adorning the foyer and corridors, a swanky tea parlor for the women, and an austere but classy study for the men," she said with a chuckle.

"Hmm...sounds nice," he said. Little did she know that the wheels were already turning in his head.

After the pool...

"Comfortable?" he asked, "here, take another," he said and tucked a smaller pillow under the small of her back.

"This bed is the perfect height," she said and wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Oh yeah, perfect for this," he said and thrust smoothly into her waiting body.

Out of consideration for her, they couldn't go full bore in their lovemaking, but he wasn't one to complain. After all, pregnant Hermione was a much randier Hermione...

In the blissful afterglow, he marveled at what he called a perfect moment: her pretty face in peaceful sleep beside him after a passionate session of orgasmic bliss. He had a few perfect moments over the years: seeing Hogwarts for the first time, the first time he caught a snitch, the first time he had sex. However, all that paled in comparison to the perfect moments with her.

The first time they really kissed.

The first time they made love.

The look in her eyes when he asked her to marry him.

When her baby sister first gave him a wet, giggling kiss on the cheek.

When he first saw the ultrasound of their daughter growing inside of her. Inside of her, how amazing was that!

When she emerged from the gallery doors on their wedding day, looking like an angel, all for him.

Even more amazing to him, she caused perfect moments daily without even realizing it, simply by being herself. She loved him unconditionally, warts and all, effortlessly it seemed. This is how love is supposed to be. Loving her feels natural to me. He felt a brief pang of guilt for not realizing it years ago...or maybe I did, but I didn't see her...us like this...God, how much time I've wasted!

But no more.

A week later, Ian and Grace arrived home from work to find that their dining room now looked like a souvenir shop in Paris. Even Evie babbled and pointed at the table, zeroing in on a snow globe to examine.

"Good heavens," Grace whispered.

Books, snow globes, figurines, postcards, and a dozen other odds and ends covered every inch of the dining room table. A picture of Harry and Hermione in front of the Eiffel Tower was attached to a note:

To replace what was lost. If we left anything out, let us know.

Love, H & H

April 12

When Harry strolled through the Auror division doors, most of the Aurors stopped whatever they were doing to welcome him back, congratulate him, or give him a friendly nod in greeting. Hannah, his assistant, was waiting by his door with a stack of parchment.

"How's the grandkids?" Harry asked.

"They're fine, the twins are frantic about being prepared for their NEWTs," she replied. "It's good to have you back."

He sat behind his desk with a sigh. "You know, it's good to be back."

"You sound surprised."

"Considering how hard it was to leave the house this morning, yeah."

"Is Hermione well?"

"Glowing, and that's not an exaggeration."

"Well, take a look at a week's worth of things and shout if you need anything."

"Thanks Hannah."

He leaned back in his chair and looked at the wizards and witches in the division milling about and he realized that he was actually...content. He had a career he loved, Hermione to go home to, and a baby on the way. It was like his life had been a puzzle with a single missing piece, and the missing piece was finally found. He looked around his desk and the bookshelf for the phone listing published by Dragon Communications. Since it was estimated that over half the magical population now had a telephone and/or a mobile, it was decided that a listing was needed.

"Hannah, do you have the phone listings?"

"Um..." shuffling of papers was heard, "yes, right here."

She brought the book to his office.

"Do you have today's paper?" he asked.

"Which one?" she asked.

"All of them, I need to have a look at the adverts."

He flipped through the listings until he found property agents. He shut the door with a casual wave.

"I'm working on a project...a secret project, a surprise for my wife. I'm looking for a nice plot of land. Want to help?"

Hermione was at home looking over the literature the college had sent. The summer teaching schedule, sample class syllabi and curriculum, textbook suggestions, and a dozen other details called for her attention. The London Wizarding College summer schedule was light; the Wizengamot lecture for first years was on Tuesday mornings, while the Creatures and Beings Law lecture was on Wednesday afternoons. Faculty meetings were on Monday afternoons, and it was up to her to schedule her office hours, which were a required two hours a week.

The baby was due sometime the second week of August, and thanks to magical medicine, she would be on her feet in no time. A week before the wedding, she and Harry came to an agreement about a care giver for the baby, Molly, who was looking forward to adding another baby to her day care. She was already taking care of three of her grandchildren during the day, and had stepped forward to offer Hermione her services. She confidently assured Hermione that one more child would be a joy and no problem at all. When she told her parents, they agreed with the choice. Grace had offered to retire from dentistry and be a care-giver for the baby.

"If we had known you were magical when you were a baby...well, we were perplexed and a little frightened when all those strange things started happening. Molly will be able to handle a magical baby better than we can," Grace said.

"Remember the rattle?" Ian asked and both chuckled at the memory.

"Or the milk bottle?" Grace returned.

"The goldfish!" both of them chorused and fell back on the couch laughing.

"Okay, I know the story about the milk, but not the rattle," Hermione said.

"I want to hear it," Harry said.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Grace beat her to it. "The day after our little pumpkin's third birthday, she decided that she didn't want plain milk, she wanted chocolate milk. She pouted and kept saying choco, choco while pointing at the milk. When Ian said that there wasn't any chocolate milk, Hermione pitched a fit and the bottle of milk exploded all over Ian."

"Magical toddlers have bouts of uncontrolled magic, I certainly didn't know what was going on," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Things didn't happen that much, you were a good-tempered child," Ian said.

"What about the rattle?" Harry asked.

Ian spoke. "On Grace's birthday, when Hermione was a year old, I wanted to treat her to a fancy supper at a nice restaurant. During the meal, a nearby couple also had a baby with them, waving a rattle with little tinkling bells inside of it. Hermione heard that rattle and decided that she had to have it. She raised her arm and the next thing we know, that rattle flew across the room toward Hermione, right over her head. Our little scamp giggled as that rattle landed right in one of the fountains."

"And the goldfish?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"Do you want to tell it?" Grace asked.

"No, you're having such a good time already, please continue," Hermione said.

"When Hermione was nine, we went to pet store to look at the puppies. Hermione saw all the goldfish and asked why they were all in tanks in a shop, and not free in the ocean."

"No..." Harry said with a chuckle.

"Oh yes. A few minutes later, the store was in an uproar when all the goldfish suddenly vanished," Ian said.

"That was a hard time for you, wasn't it?" Grace asked.

"Yes, it was. All these strange things were happening, and I didn't know why."

"At least you weren't tossed in a cupboard under the stairs for it," Harry said.