Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I want to thank all who stuck with this story through the end. You guys are fabulous. Thanks for reading.
Harry came and plopped down next to me on the sofa in front of our fireplace. I shushed him, motioning down to Arianna, who lay asleep in my arms. She was five months.
Harry came back, if you didn't already realize. If the Weasleys didn't welcome him back with open arms, it was at least with warm smiles and understanding. Ron, of course, had been mad and stubborn and for at least a week after Harry came back he didn't talk to him. Hermione had cried and then she had thrown her arms around him. She and Ron fought for a long time but Harry eventually ended up in their wedding as Ron's best man.
Harry and I lived in my flat until we were able to finish building our dream home by the lake. It was exactly like I had dreamed it would be, every room, every piece of furniture. . . .
And then a few months after Ron and Hermione's wedding, Harry asked me to marry him. I'm a bit stubborn when I want to be and I made him wait for a couple of months after his proposal. It was worth the wait though, he told me.
And now, we had a beautiful baby girl. She was a handful, alright. I could never get past her smile though. She already had Harry's smile and it always got her out of trouble, especially with Mrs. Weasley, her surrogate grandmother.
Harry lifted Arianna from my arms, cuddling her against his chest. She sighed softly, reaching out with one of her small hands. Harry lifted his finger and she gripped onto it. I don't think I've ever seen a man fall so in love with his child. Harry was always willing to be with his baby girl when I was tired. In the mornings, at two o' clock he always got up to check on her when she cried.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips against Harry's cheek as I laid my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his free arm around me, kissing the top of my head.
For the last year, the spotlight had been on me. Watching and waiting for the moment I would crack. Bright and hot, it watched everyday, every night. . . . But now, the spotlight was on both of us. Though there were still times when I felt as if the world was all on my shoulders, Harry was always beside me, holding me up, even when the spotlight was burning him too. But together, I think we'll be able to handle the stares and the accusations.
And the spotlight doesn't seem so hot anymore.