Posted: 10 January, 2010

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.


Chapter 10 - Aftermath

Monday, June 22, 1998

Harry awoke to a white ceiling and the smell of antiseptic and immediately knew he was in hospital. He looked around the familiar room, recognising it as one of the private wards off the Hogwarts infirmary. Trying to move he found himself feeling weak. He pushed back his blankets, sluggishly sat up, then tentatively dropped one foot to the stone floor, preparing to stand up.

"Mr Potter," Poppy scolded, bustling through the door, "get back in that bed this instant."

"Madame Pomfrey," he said, caving to her demand. "How'd you know I was up?" Then, remembering from his Medimagic training, answered for himself. "Alert ward, to tell you when I woke up."

"Precisely," she said, withdrawing her wand and began casting diagnostics.

He frowned at the results. His training was not advanced enough to tell much past that he was exhausted.

"Well?" he asked when she finally stopped. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're recovering from magical saturation."

"Magical saturation?"

"Yes, you were quite literally saturated in magical power. The levels were off the charts. And the human body can only handle so much power. Fortunately you managed to take down You-Know-Who before your body shut down in self defence and began purging the excess magic. Your levels are almost back to normal now."

"So why do I feel so weak?"

"As I said, it is not natural for a human being to hold so much magic. It was a strain on your body. Admittedly you are one of the more powerful wizards and can hold more than most, but still; it was far too much even for you. You remained unconscious for over a day, but with rest and relaxation, you should be well within the next few days."

He began to nod, when suddenly a memory from the battle flooded his mind.

"Bill!" he exclaimed, throwing back the covers once more.

"Mr Potter, be still."

But he wouldn't listen. In seconds he was on his feet and heading to the door.

"I'm fine, just tired. You said so yourself. Where's Bill Weasley? Is he okay?"

She tried again to convince him to return to bed but he pinned her with such a determined glare that even she – queen of her domain as she usually was – relented to his demands. She did grasp his arm though, to halt him while she explained.

"His family requested he stay here at the Hogwarts infirmary, so he is actually out in the main ward. You would be there too but I had to move you; reporters were trying to break in to get an interview, as if you were up to it," She rolled her eyes, then sobered, returning to the topic of Bill. "As for Mr Weasley, he was hit with two critical spells: a Cutting Curse and a Blasting Curse. His arm as you know had been severed, but we were able to reattach it – and I hear we have you to thank for the Preservation Charm on the severed limb. Very nicely done. As for the second curse, there was considerable damage to his chest area, including vital organs." She shook her head. "It was a mess and again, it was only your quick reaction with the Stasis Spell that let him survive."

"But he is alive?" he asked and she nodded hesitantly. "What, what is it? You did fix the damage to his chest right? He's going to live, isn't he?"

"It took the Healers the better part of three hours, but yes, his chest was reconstructed and repaired. Of a miracle, lingering damage will even be minimal, though he has some bad scarring."

Harry shook his head. He didn't care if Bill looked like Frankenstein's monster so long as he survived.

"So then what's the problem?"

"The curse was such a shock to his system. He should have died. You know how a wizard's magic reacts in such situations."

Harry paled but nodded. "Healer Vance mentioned it once. It protects the mind and soul, by withdrawing consciousness so it doesn't have to suffer the death." He took a deep breath before releasing it, "Bill's not regaining consciousness then?"

It was more statement than question, but she nodded all the same.

"Not yet. He's currently in a coma."

"I need to go sit with him," he said hoarsely.

Then, before she could object, he was out the door. He ignored the awe filled looks of the strangers in the infirmary, searching out red hair.

"The curtained bed second down on the left," Pomfrey said from his elbow, before striding away to tend to other patients.

He approached the area in question, pausing before pressing through the part in the curtain. He held his breath as he entered. The Weasley family and Hermione were gathered around the bed, on which… he bit his lip against tears at the sight. Bill was laying there looking pale and still. He wore no shirt, exposing the thick bandages wrapped around his chest and arm. A wave of dizziness washed over him when he spotted a smear of blood on the prone wizard's neck that had been missed.

"Harry you're awake!" Hermione cried, flinging herself at him. "I would have been by your bedside but Madame Pomfrey said you were okay but for exhaustion. She also had to lock your doors. Reporters have been trying to get in."

"It's fine Hermione," he assured her, voice a bit choked as she withdrew to her boyfriend's embrace.

"Oh Harry," cried Mrs Weasley tearfully, stepping forward next to pull him into a hug. "We owe you so much. The Healers told us if not for you and the spells you cast, Bill wouldn't still be with us."

"It was nothing," he said. "How is he?"

"No change I'm afraid," said Mr Weasley, sounding graver than Harry'd ever heard. "But we remain hopeful."

Molly returned to her seat at the bedside, and the rest of the Weasleys came forward to embrace him, whispering thanks. As the last pulled back there was a cleared throat from behind him. Harry spun around to see Dumbledore, still wearing yesterday's torn and dirtied robes, and with his nose a little more crooked than he remembered, but otherwise whole.

"I apologise for intruding, but if I could have a few words with Harry," he asked, and Harry looked toward Bill, torn, and the headmaster reassured him. "We shan't be long, my boy."

A few seconds later, the two had returned to Harry's own hospital room. Harry sat on the edge of his bed and Dumbledore conjured a chintz armchair. The old wizard sat silently, rubbing his nose.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I must merely get used to the new shape is all." He gestured at his face.

"It doesn't look any worse than before," Harry responded before realising what he's said. "I mean, it was crooked before and it's crooked now, just differently," he hurried to explain, flustered. "Not that it's bad. Or was bad."

Dumbledore chucked, rubbing his nose one last time before threading his hands together in his lap.

"Never fear dear boy, no offence is taken." He sighed then and looked serious. "Let me be the first to say Harry, thank you. Thank you for ridding the world of the evil that was Voldemort. We all owe you a great debt."

"Oh," he said scratching his ear awkward, feeling proud at the praise despite himself. "It was nothing."

"It certainly was not, but I shall not embarrass by dwelling on the topic further. I will say however, that I wish I could have been more help in your great duel."

"No sir," Harry shook his head immediately. "I saw you, through the crowds. You were defending a group of children at the time. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

"Thank you." Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Everyone is of course overjoyed at your victory. And I must say, the parties and celebrations are just as grand as seventeen years ago."

The words were said cheerfully, but at hearing them, something terrible occurred to Harry.

"Sir, what if-" He hesitated, as if afraid speaking his thought aloud might make it real. "What if he's not really dead? Like last time. What if he comes back again?"

"No, my boy," Dumbledore assured him seriously, "he is gone, for good."

"But how can you be sure?"

"His body, for one."

"Body?"

"Yes, when you first banished him, he left no body behind. Merely robes and a wand."

"You said 'for one'."

"Ah, indeed – how perceptive of you to notice." He paused then, considering.

"Professor?"

"I had not been idle Harry, the many years following Voldemort's first fall. I had in fact spent a great deal of time researching Voldemort's past and discovering the methods by which he survived what should have been certain death. He had bragged you see, on several occasions, that he had instituted safeguards – safeguards that would ward him from death. And then, when no body of his was found at your home, I suspected."

"But I thought he was a spirit. Are you saying he just walked away?"

"No, but the body was gone, and the robe and wand lying on the ground as though he had disappeared without them. He had found a method you see, by which he could sacrifice his body, his physical form, in exchange for a spirit existence to stave off death."

"But how? How did he do that?" he asked curiously.

Dumbledore shook his head, looking more sober and serious than Harry had ever seen. There was nary a trace of twinkle in his eye as he replied.

"I will not speak on such diabolical things. Suffice it to say, that it was through rituals and magics both dark and terrible," he said gravely and Harry shivered. "But as truly unpleasant as my research was I did discover the very rituals and spells he used. They were not designed to hold once they had achieved their purpose."

"But," he hated to be contrary, but Harry needed to be very sure, "couldn't he have cast those spells again when he got a new body?"

"Most fortunately, no. Those magics were designed to work only on a human form. And with the resurrection ritual Voldemort used…"

"He was no longer human?"

"Precisely."

There was silence again then. Harry waited for the headmaster to ask him about the method he used to defeat Voldemort, but no such question was forthcoming. Perhaps he'd already questioned the D.A.? Before he could ask though, Dumbledore suddenly stood.

"Well, I will let you return to your beau's side."

"Thank you si-" He halted mid word, looking at the headmaster wide eyed. "Professor Dumbledore?" he asked squeakily.

"Oh my boy," the older wizard chuckled, "I have known for quite some time of your romance. There is almost nothing that goes on in my school that I am unaware of."

Harry suddenly blushed at the implications of that.

"Nothing?" he asked, strangled, and Dumbledore laughed more heartily.

"Goodness gracious, I of course do not infringe upon intimate privacies."

"Oh," Harry said, relief obvious in his voice.

"Now go; rejoin the Weasley family," he said.

"Thank you sir," Harry nodded, stood and headed for the door.

As he reached for the handle however, the headmaster spoke once more.

"And Harry," he said, voice serious, "I wish your William a speedy recovery."

He bit his lip. "Thank you," he said waveringly, and exited the room.

Harry did indeed return to Bill's bedside, fetching for himself a chair to sit on, squeezing it in among the others at the end of the bed. As the hours wore on, one by one the Weasleys parted to go seek out some sleep. When finally Hermione led a nodding Ron away, throwing Harry a curious glance that he was yet to leave himself, only Mr and Mrs Weasley remained.

"Come on dear," Mr Weasley said. "There's nothing we can do at the moment. Let's follow the other children's example and get some rest. We can come back in the morning."

"But Arthur," she immediately objected, "we can't just leave him alone."

"I'll stay Mrs Weasley," Harry found himself offering, since there was no way he was leaving Bill's side.

"It's Molly dear, and you need to rest yourself."

"I was asleep for over a day Molly. I don't see myself dozing off again anytime soon," he said, and at her uncertainty added, "If I really need to, the private room I was in is free, but apart from that I won't leave his side till one of the family comes back."

And not even then, he added silently.

"Thank you Harry," Arthur said. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn't it Molly?"

"I'm not sure," she hesitated but then a yawn overtook her, and she conceded defeat. "Oh very well. But be sure to rest if you need it Harry dear."

"I promise," he said.

And then they were gone, disappearing through the curtains, leaving him and Bill alone. He moved from his chair to the one Mrs Weasley had occupied, at the head of the bed, and took Bill's hand gently in one of his own, tracing across the back of the long elegant fingers. After some minutes he reached out to brush his hand across his lover's face – his brow, his lidded eyes, his cheeks, nose, lips and chin. He leaned close, mouth hovering over Bill's ear.

"You have to get better, you hear me? I need you," he said, voice breaking over the words. "I need you."

And then he lowered his head to the mattress by Bill's hip and before he knew it, despite his earlier claims that he'd gotten quite enough rest already, he was falling asleep.

..ooOOoo..

Tuesday, June 23, 1998

When Harry woke next early morning sunlight was just beginning to filter through the hospital wing windows, and there were voices murmuring beside him. They quietened as he sat up and stretched, rubbing at the blanket creases in his cheek from where his head had rested on Bill's bed. Looking over he saw that Neville and Lavender had pulled up seats beside him. He blinked in surprise at the fresh, painful looking scar that now graced the other wizard's face, from temple to jaw.

"Hello Harry," the young man said softly.

"Neville, are you okay?" he asked guiltily. "I can't believe I didn't think to ask how everyone was."

"Don't worry about it," he said, fingering the scar. "It's healing. It'll leave a permanent scar the Healers say, but there's no real damage."

"But-"

"It's fine Harry, really," Lavender interrupted him. "Battle wounds can be very sexy." She gave her boyfriend a sultry look.

"Lavender!" he spluttered.

The witch just smiled at her boyfriend from beneath lowered lashes, flustering him further before finally having mercy and turning away.

"Besides Harry," she said, giving a knowing sort of smile, "I think you had something more important to be worrying about. Or rather someone."

She glanced meaningfully at Bill as she spoke. He sat stunned for a moment, shocked by her words.

"How did you-" He paused to look at Neville who seemed surprised but not bothered. "How'd you know?"

She laughed then, a light sound that was really quite pretty. A fact her boyfriend was well aware of, Harry observed, hiding a smile at seeing the entranced expression on the fair haired wizard's face.

"Oh Harry, I spent most of my early years at Hogwarts as the resident gossip queen," she explained. "You don't get that title without being observant. Especially about relationships."

"How long have you two been together?" Neville asked softly.

The other wizard seemed both happy and sad for him. No doubt pleased Harry had found someone, but worried that that someone was currently less than well.

"Almost a year," he admitted, glancing at Bill and realising he had been holding his lover's hand all through the conversation. "We figured it out on my birthday. Well, that is to say that I kissed him, he left and we both freaked out privately, then he came back and kissed me, and we finally admitted there was something there." He smiled in remembrance before changing the subject. "You two were brilliant out there by the way. I saw you fighting together and you were amazing. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Neville you're a brilliant defensive dueller while Lavender you're powerfully offensively. You complement each other perfectly in a fight."

The pair grinned, and Neville flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

"Actually," the blonde wizard said, "you're not the first to say that."

"Really?"

"Oh, tell him Neville," Lavender prodded, almost bouncing in her seat with a grin on her face.

"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

"Apparently," Neville said, "some of the Aurors saw us fighting as well and were…"

"Impressed Nev," Lavender provided. "They were very impressed."

"Yeah, that." And the young man blushed just remembering the Aurors' reactions. "And one of those was Kingsley Shacklebolt. You know – the Head of the DMLE," he said and Harry nodded. "And, well, we've both been offered guaranteed positions with the Auror Corp training program when it starts in two months. And he wants us to be partners."

"Really? That's fantastic!" Harry smiled at their proud looks but asked, "Does he know you're together though?"

"I think so."

"And it's still okay for you to work together?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"It's a Muggle thing Nev," Lavender provided, understanding since she was a half Muggle herself. "In their armed forces and a lot of dangerous jobs you're not supposed to work with anyone you're in a relationship with."

"Well that's strange," was all the Auror-to-be said.

"Hey Lavender," Harry said suddenly, remembering something, "didn't I hear you mention something awhile back about starting your own fashion label though?"

The blonde's lips tightened until Neville reached for her hand and squeezed gently. She sighed and relaxed, shaking her head sadly.

"That was mine and Parvati's dream. We were going to do it together. I don't think I would want to do it now, alone, with all the memories of the betrayal."

"Oh," Harry said awkwardly. "Well, congratulations then, on the Auror thing. You both deserve it."

"Thanks Harry," Neville said, then stood and clasped a hand on the green-eyed wizard's shoulder. "We're going to head off for breakfast. I really hope Bill gets better soon."

"Owl us if you need anything," Lavender said, standing also. "Anything at all."

"Thanks, both of you," he said, meaning it, before returning his attention to Bill.

Ten minutes later he was interrupted once more, this time by the arrival of a moony eyed blonde.

"Hello Harry," Luna greeted him.

"Luna," he said, then remembering Neville's scar asked, "Are you alright? Any injuries from the battle?"

"Quite alright. Although Daddy took a nasty curse to the knee," she said, voice a little quivery. "He's still in St Mungo's."

He looked at her with concern. He knew how much Luna's father meant to her, especially since she'd lost her mother already.

"Will he be alright?"

"They had to take his leg," she said in a little girl voice.

Awash with sympathy, he released Bill's hand to pull her into a hug. She clung to him for a long moment before pulling back, a teary but grateful smile on her lips.

"We mustn't embrace to long, lest your lovely, freckled, gentleman suitor awakes and gets the wrong idea," she said and he gave a surprised burst of laughter.

"Honestly, we kept it secret so long and just today three people have told me they know."

She just smiled dreamily.

"I have to return to daddy now. Thank you for being my friend. I hope your boyfriend returns to you soon."

"Thanks," he said. "You take care Luna." And soon she too was gone.

..ooOOoo..

The Weasleys tricked in one by one over the next few hours until all were gathered once more around Bill's bed. Madame Pomfrey bustled in at one stage to check on her two patients. Bill had no change but she pronounced Harry healing, though not as quickly as she'd liked. She questioned him and when he admitted he'd not eaten breakfast he was berated by both she and Mrs Weasley. It was not an experience he would ever care to repeat and when the infirmary assigned house-elf popped in with a meal for him, he ate meekly.

The day passed slowly, and soon it was night once more. He had not left the bedside even once, going so far as to call on Dobby for further meals and casting on himself the rather embarrassing spells designed for use in relieving patients incapable of making their way to the lavatory. The Weasleys all seemed a little bewildered by his dedication. Eventually he admitted to all who didn't know that Bill had been one of his trainers, and added that when he had his breakdown early back in sixth year, it had been Bill who found him and made sure he was alright, and that the redhead had been a close friend and confidant ever since.

..ooOOoo..

Wednesday, June 24, 1998

When he woke the next morning, having slept in the chair by the bed once more, his mood plummeted to see that Bill still had yet to awaken. He had been in a coma for almost three days. When the Weasleys and Hermione returned to the eldest son's bedside they were disturbed to find Harry was now refusing to communicate with anyone. He simply held Bill's hand and sat staring at him.

Mrs Weasley attempted to get him to leave for some 'proper rest, in a bed', to no avail. When the rest of the family retreated for lunch in the Great Hall downstairs, Ron and Hermione remained, worried for their friend. They managed to prod him into eating only a little, and Hermione, in a surprising fit of motherliness, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped clean a speck of blood from a superficial scrape on his face which no one had had the courage to tell him lingered from the battle on Sunday.

After that the pair sat, speaking to each other quietly, but in the silence of the ward he heard them all the same.

"Why is he so determined to stay here?" Ron asked, concern and frustration colouring his voice.

"Oh Ron, don't you see?" Hermione whispered tearfully. "He's been studying under his trainers for nearly two years. That's a long time to get attached. He lost Moody – the man died right at his back I hear. And now Bill's in such dire condition. Of course he needs to be there. He's afraid he'll lose another mentor."

Had things not been so dim, he would have snorted. Hermione, so clever, and yet she'd completely misinterpreted the situation.

..ooOOoo..

Thursday, June 25, 1998

Harry noted absently that Ron, Hermione and the twins didn't appear till later on the next day. Hermione alone stayed with him once more when the others left for lunch.

"Harry," Hermione said softly.

He didn't respond, but she remained sat at his side all the same.

"You may have noticed Ron and I were gone most of the morning. We had a D.A. meeting," she explained, "and all we members have been talking and we came to a decision.

"It was Neville's idea actually, but we all supported it. The 'Love's Power' spell, it's dangerous. In the wrong hands… in the wrong hands it could do so much damage. We've all made magically binding oaths, to never reveal the specifics of the spell to anyone outside the D.A. We considered and decided one person should be free of the oath though, in case some circumstance crops up where the fate of the world rests on new people learning to perform it or some such. We intended it to be you."

She paused, but Harry made no comment, and so she continued on.

"Of course, we then realised there were people at the battle who heard and saw us cast the spell, so I spoke to Dumbledore. He said we'd made a very wise and mature decision. He agreed with my plan. I had him cast a Fidelius Charm on the details of the spell; the wand movements and incantation.

"You're probably wondering why you can still remember us incanting the spell during the battle if it's Secreted. It's because we made you the Secret Keeper Harry. I needed your blood for the spell; that's why I wiped your face with the handkerchief last time I was here. I know I should have told you. I hope you're not too angry with me," she paused but again he remained silent. "Oh Harry, come back to us."

The Weasleys returned soon after, and Harry felt a little guilty to see that their worries were not only for Bill but him also. He remained silent despite this however, maintaining his vigil.

When first the hand twitched in his, he thought he'd imagined it. Then it twitched again and he moved for the first time in days, jumping to his feet. The screeching of his chair flying back sounded loudly in the quiet of the hospital wing and immediately everyone's attention was on him.

"Harry?" someone asked hesitantly.

"He moved," he spoke, breaking his silence.

There was a moment of shock and then they all crowded around. The twins were sent to fetch Madam Pomfrey but the rest hovered by the bed, calling out to Bill, questioning could hear them, asking him to come back to them.

"Out of the way," Poppy ordered bustling through the privacy curtain, wand drawn and soon began casting diagnostic spells.

Harry's breath caught as he interpreted some of what he read, particularly the mind activity stats. He was definitely awakening. Madam Pomfrey soon spoke confirming his thoughts and there was much excitement. She told them to speak to him, to encourage him to return.

"Bill, wake up dear," Mrs Weasley said. "Wake up Silly-Billy."

Under other circumstances Harry would have snickered at the newly discovered nickname. Instead he mentally catalogued it away for future teasing purposes when the situation was not so grim.

"Son, come on now," Mr Weasley joined in. "Come back to us."

The others all spoke up and the bedridden man stirred but didn't awaken. Harry licked his lips before speaking.

"Bill," he said, leaning close. "Wake up. Please Bill, wake up. For me?"

And then, with a low moan, Bill's eyes fluttered open, and he stared blearily at the crowd above him.

"Well hello," he murmured, voice husky with disuse, "What's with the audience?"

"Oh Bill!" Mrs Weasley cried, reaching out to pet her son's red hair. "My baby, you're alright."

"I understand you're all glad to have him back, but I need you all to back away so I can check how he is," Poppy said.

Reluctantly they withdrew, all but for Harry. He refused to relinquish Bill's hand and instead moved to the side so as not to be in the way. Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look before glancing at their joined hands, when a sudden expression of realisation overtook her features, to be replaced by understanding. Then, much to his surprise, she favoured him with a sympathetic look and went about her work.

They all stayed silent as Poppy did her thing; casting spells, asking a million questions, and then explaining to Bill his injuries and coma.

"This one," she gestured at Harry, "hasn't left your side for a moment. It's been a trial just getting him to look after himself."

Bill, who had paled at news of his coma, instead turned worried at word of Harry's vigil. Harry blushed as a look of concern was turned towards him, and wondered if he was the only one who saw the love hidden behind those eyes.

Eventually, after yet more questions, Madam Pomfrey pronounced he was recovering quite well, and stepped back. At once the Weasleys clamoured around once more, but to their surprise, Bill held up a halting hand and they went quiet.

"Before you all welcome me back," he said, "there's something I need to do." Then he patted his chest with his free hand, frowning at the bandages. "Where'd my robes go?"

"They were… shredded by the- the curse dear," Mrs Weasley explained haltingly. "They were beyond repair. I imagine they were thrown away."

Bill's eyes widened with alarm at that, until Poppy stepped forward.

"Before you start to fret, which is not," the Mediwitch said as she gave him a stern glare, "good for your recovery, you should know that we checked the pockets first."

"Oh good," he sighed in relief. "Where is it then?"

Madam Pomfrey stepped over to the drawers by the bed and withdrew something from within, though no one could quite see what it was. As she stealthily handed it to her patient, she threw a questioning glance between Bill and Harry. The redhead's eyes widened but he nodded, and a rare smile touched the woman's face.

"What is it Bill?" Molly asked, but he ignored her, focussing instead on the wizard by his side.

"I was planning on giving you this after the graduation ceremony," he said to Harry and the others watched on with curious expressions.

"My graduation present," he remembered suddenly from when Bill had pulled him aside before he went to line up, and blushed as he recalled the kiss.

"Sort of," Bill said, then shook his head to clear a lock of hair from his face. "When I imagined it I didn't think I'd give it to you lying injured in a hospital bed with the whole family watching but… well if this has taught my nothing it's that life's fragile and I'm certainly not going to waste time. That is to say…"

"Bill?" he asked.

He was confused by the ramblings from the normally concise redhead. Was Bill nervous?

"Here."

And then a small dark box was pressed toward him, and he reached out with his free hand to accept it. Not willing to release Bill's hand, he opened the box one handed and then paused. He stared at the contents within, eyes a little wide, and lips parted with surprise.

"Bill?" he whispered.

"I know we've only been together for a year or so, but I don't need anymore time to think about it. You're the one for me Harry. Please, agree to marry me?"

There were gasps of surprise from behind him, and a choking sound from Ron. He knew that the Weasleys and Hermione were suddenly putting all the pieces together, and were shocked with the picture that was becoming revealed to them. He also realised belatedly that Poppy must have already figured it out, having seen the box as well as Harry and Bill's concern for one another.

"What is going on?" Mrs Weasley asked, voice faint with surprise.

But Harry acknowledged none of them, too distracted by the gorgeous, nervous man waiting in front of him. He glanced once more at the opened box with two identical bands resting inside on a bed of velvet. They were traditional wizarding marriage rings, made of gold and engraved with the bonding runes along the circumference. The runes would be imbued with magic during the ceremony, but for now they were inert. Staring at the bands, a smile slipped over Harry's face. With shaky hands he reached in and withdrew one from the box and shifted his grip on Bill's hand.

"Yes," he said, voice choked and full of emotion, as he reverently slipped the ring on Bill's fourth finger. "Yes I would love to marry you."

Bill's face just lit up with love and pleasure. He smiled and reached into the box and plucked out the second ring, then drew Harry's left hand toward him. The redhead caressed the palm and along the fingers, before gently sliding the band onto his ring finger. Then he raised the hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You won't regret it. I love you."

"Of course I won't," Harry whispered in return. "And I love you."

And then Bill was drawing him forward and into a deep, tender kiss and the world faded away. It could have been anything from seconds to hours later when he finally he drew back, the sound of awkwardly shuffling feet interrupting them. They just stared into one another's eyes for a long moment before glancing over at their audience – one smugly pleased Mediwitch and eight flabbergasted others. The pair waited nervously for their reactions. Would they be accepting?

"Bill is the mysterious witch, or I should say wizard, who gave you a proper snogging before the ceremony?" Ron broke the silence with his usual tact.

Hermione automatically elbowed her boyfriend in reprimand, Ron yelped and glared at her, and the others broke their silence with questions and congratulations. The happy couple relaxed and a wide grin broke out on Harry's face. It was all going to be okay. Better than okay, he amended, glancing at his ring. Voldemort was gone and the beautiful man by his side was all his.


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