A Proposal

"Hermione."

"Harry."

"Marry me."

"I… what?"

It was Christmas Eve. They were sitting alone inside a church in Godric's Hollow after visiting the adjoining graveyard. The quiet atmosphere inside belied the turmoil in their lives of which the Potters' graves were a stark reminder. It almost felt unreal to enjoy a moment of peace, almost as if fate was cruelly teasing them about what could have been.

"I'm serious. Marry me. Here, in this church."

"Right now?

"Is that a yes?"

Hermione kept staring at him with wide-open eyes. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did Harry Potter just propose to her in the middle of a war?

She knew he was serious. They were desperate. Desperate to get out if this mess. Desperate for a normal life. Desperate for a family. They only had each other, and with the looming threat of Voldemort, that could change any moment. Hopeless was the word that described their situation aptly, with neither the Horcruxes nor the Sword in sight and an uncertain future. It would be a miracle if they survived the war. Even if they somehow managed to find all the Horcruxes and destroy them, they still had to face Lord Voldemort. Hell, they didn't know if they would see the next sunrise.

This miserable predicament they currently found themselves in was what drove Ron to abandon them. But not me. I'm with Harry. We're still fighting.

Hermione fought back a tear. I have no one in this world, apart from the man sitting next to me right now. She was a stranger to her own parents. What's more, it had been her own decision to Obliviate them, forced by the circumstances, for their own safety.

She suddenly wanted, longed for a family of her own. She now had a glimpse of what Harry felt.

He was her best friend. Maybe more than that, a tiny voice in the back of her head said. He was her rock, and she was his. They would never abandon each other. Hermione felt a strong purpose. She would always be by his side. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. No, not even death. If he goes, I go too. Together.

It was reckless, sure. They weren't even a couple. But for once in her life, Hermione Granger wanted to follow her heart, disregarding any consequences. He's Harry, my Harry, how bad could it be?

An unpleasant memory from nearly three months ago crept into her mind. Ron had accused her of choosing Harry over him, hadn't he? Yes Ron, I choose Harry. I choose him. There you have it.

Hermione had made her decision.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

The Polyjuice Potion had worn off and they were their own selves again. Her vision was filled with those green eyes looking into her brown, their faces close. She could see his pupils dilated, his body tense as he awaited her response with bated breath.

"Let's get married," she whispered.