AN: I'd like to thank all of you who've stuck around this long. Only one chapter to go in this story, friends. Then I'll start on the next one (more on that later! ). Comments and critiques are always welcome and I look forward to reading them.

Mahalo!

CHAPTER 26 – AND TWO SHALL BECOME ONE

Ginny Potter stood gracefully next to her closest friend, whose white robes glistened as if they had gathered every last ounce of the Cornwall sunset and reflected it richly, illuminating all in attendance. The crowd was larger than the one that had assembled just two weeks earlier in the garden at the Burrow, which seemed perfectly natural, although her eyes kept being drawn to the cluster of Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, and Pansy Parkinson. Ginny hardly needed to remind herself that Pansy had thankfully been present at her own wedding, but it was still shocking to see her as a guest.

"You'd better get used to seeing her around," Ginny reminded herself, "now that Pansy has agreed to take on such important responsibilities for Harry."

Of course, the press had once again been excluded. Ginny knew the day was coming when her husband would have to face the throngs of journalists who were now bombarding him with daily requests for interviews, but that time had not yet arrived.

She and Harry needed peace, something that had finally been theirs for the last twelve nights – nights they had shared in deep conversations and frustrated desires.

She looked again at the young witch who stood beside her, the woman who was about to become her sister-in-law, although she had been like Ginny's sister for years and the friend who had held her hand through the sad times when Harry Potter had acted as if he didn't even know she was alive.

Her heart swelled at the sight of Hermione Granger as she stared lovingly at Ginny's brother, oblivious to everything else in the world, concentrating all of her considerable intellect upon the man who would become her husband in less than a minute, and Ginny knew it was as it should be. For the first time in two weeks, Ginny allowed herself a morsel of forgiveness for not having sensed the danger that had loomed unnoticed at her own wedding, because she knew that every bride deserved to be completely lost in this moment without fear or trepidation.

The Vicar of St. Andrew's Church, Godric's Hollow, stood before them once again on a platform populated only by Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. He smiled warmly at the latter couple, whose hands were clasped tightly together and bound in the white stole he wore for the most important of liturgical occasions: weddings, funerals, baptisms, and the highest holy days of his faith. Amidst the awe-inspiring events transpiring before her, Ginny's emotions rose within her, waging war within her soul – the joy of watching Ron and Hermione join their lives together competing with the bitterness that she and Harry been denied the rich blessings of what was to follow.

"In as much as Ronald and Hermione have honored one another through the exchange of vows and giving of rings, by the powers vested in me, I pronounce that they are husband and wife."

The Vicar lowered his gaze to the young couple and tightened the stole even more firmly about their hands before pronouncing directly to them, "I declare you bonded for life."

Mesmerized, Ginny watched as her brother took his new bride in his arms and kissed her – softly, respectfully, reverently – before a hungry grin flickered on his face and Hermione blushed ever so slightly. The bride giggled softly before lifting up on her tiptoes to meet her husband's lips in another kiss. Her unbound arm slipped suddenly over Ron's shoulders and her moan, though soft in volume, could be heard throughout the silent crowd. Ginny continued watching, completely entranced by Hermione's uncharacteristic public display of affection, until she became aware that a wave of delighted laughter was spreading through the congregation.

The Vicar, smiling broadly and obviously fighting against his own desire to join in the laughter, cleared his throat and removed the stole from the couple's joined hands. Immediately, Hermione's now-liberated arm shot upward as her fingers clasped around Ron's neck.

"I present to you Hermione and Ronald Weasley, two souls merged as one."

The Vicar's words washed over Ginny, soothing her in a way she would never have dreamed possible. All thoughts of jealousy dissolved instantaneously, leaving not even the slightest hint of bitterness. She was filled with happiness, joy for Ron and Hermione and gratitude for herself and Harry, as she realized that nothing had truly been stolen on their wedding day, for regardless of anything else that had transpired after Lucius Malfoy cast his Killing Curse, her soul had been irrevocably, unconditionally merged with Harry Potter's, and the two of them had become one.

Passion surged within her as Ginny's eyes sought those of her husband. Harry was delightedly watching the bride and groom, who had finally broken their embrace and turned to face the congregation of friends and family. She swallowed hard; there was simply something about that man that had driven Ginny mad since their very first meeting – the constantly disheveled black hair, the round-rimmed glasses that should have made him look like a silly boffin but never did, the lopsided grin, and those amazing eyes!

"Potter!" she half-whispered in Harry's direction.

Suddenly his brilliant green eyes shifted slightly, and Harry was staring directly back at her, his grin transformed into a wide smile, and the thought that had been trying to form in Ginny's mind jelled perfectly. She felt a wicked grin spread across her own lips and watched as a highly satisfactory reaction settled on her husband's face. Whatever they had missed over the past two weeks, Ginny was determined to make up for it as soon as they could reasonably sneak away from Ron and Hermione's reception.

Harry was enthralled by the blazing ruby and diamond pendant that danced above him on Ginny's perfectly freckled breasts. The two-week wait mandated by Healer Smethwyck had seemed like an eternity, and Kingsley's efforts to consume his days with a crash course in Auror Preparedness had done precious little to distract the frustrated newlywed.

The previous evening, Kingsley had dismissed Harry in his customary fashion: "See you tomorrow, Harry!"

"Not for two weeks, and you know it!" Harry had answered before giving the Minister of Magic a brief, warm smile and Disapparating.

He had been haunted by brief pangs of guilt that he had been unable to concentrate on Ron and Hermione's nuptials. Hermione had looked beautiful, her wild hair tamed only enough to fall in tendrils down her neck, and he had been unable to miss seeing why Ron Weasley had been crazy about his chosen sister for so many years. But Harry simply couldn't keep his eyes of the petite red-haired witch in the pale yellow bridesmaid robes. Ginny Potter, Matron of Honor extraordinaire, was undoubtedly the most alluring witch Harry had ever seen, and he had spent the entire wedding and subsequent reception literally aching to be back in his wife's arms.

They had been making love for hours, christening their master suite at Potter Manor, and hoping from time to time that they had remembered to cast an adequate Imperturbable Charm. Ron and Hermione, however, were in the quarters the Potters had provided in the opposite wing of the manor and were, no doubt, engaged in similar activities. Kreacher had remained behind to tend to the next morning's necessities, but his children had already moved on to Lac Annecy. Kingsley Shacklebolt was personally overseeing the elite Auror unit that was patrolling the perimeter, as no one had been inclined to make the same mistakes that had plagued Harry and Ginny's wedding. All these factors combined to provide Harry with a greater sense of freedom than he could remember since he and his young friends had become consumed with the security of the Philosopher's Stone.

Harry's gaze had wandered from the shimmering pendant only to meet Ginny's brilliant brown eyes – eyes that blazed more passionately than he could ever remember seeing. Suddenly he felt her steady rhythm begin to come undone, followed soon thereafter by the phenomenal tightening of her vaginal walls around him that brought him thundering to yet another astonishing orgasm. The sex was great, Harry knew without question, but the thing that truly overwhelmed him was the knowledge that he and Ginny were finally one with each other, with no legal, physical, spiritual, or emotional impediments.

As his heartbeat returned to normal, Harry looked up at his wife, breathed deeply, and whispered, "A wink of sleep before we leave for France?"

"If you can't keep up, Potter..."

"What do you mean, 'if I can't keep up?' I've been keeping up all night," Harry insisted, suddenly concerned that Ginny was disappointed, something he'd tried to avoid every time they had been together.

Ginny must have noticed the cloud of worry pass over his eyes, as the hard edge disappeared quickly from her face.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly. "You know I'm kidding, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," he responded, hoping desperately that what she had said was true.

"Oh, Merlin!" she gasped. "You are worried."

"Of course I am," Harry answered, his eyes searching for anything to look at other than Ginny's eyes but failing completely. He loved those eyes and had ever since he noticed them peeking out at him all those years ago at the Burrow "I want everything to be perfect for you."

"It is perfect, silly. It's always perfect because I'm with you," Ginny said soothingly, the look in her eyes now imploring him to see how earnestly she was trying to communicate with him.

Despite her soothing words, Harry felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck and spreading to his cheeks.

"You know," Ginny said softly, "breakfast actually sounds better than a kip, but perhaps a shower first?"

Harry watched his wife pop gracefully out of bed, her perfect body still wet from lovemaking.

"God, you are beautiful!" Harry thought silently, not wanting to sound as completely pathetic as he felt. "No, you're bloody perfect!"

His mind raced to the last time they had showered together at Grimmauld Place. A surge of adrenaline rose within him, or perhaps, he thought, it might be testosterone, but regardless of the cause, he felt desire building once again deep within him.

"Wait for me!" he called behind her.

Ginny turned, her fiendish grin having returned as her eyes riveted back on her husband. "Catch me!" she challenged, but Harry was certain what he heard in her voice was actually the sound of an invitation.

Ginny reached the shower, stepped inside, and turned the water on by hand. Only then did she realize that her wand still rested upon her bedside table. Running a hand through her long, thick hair, Ginny gave thanks for Kingsley's security measures that had left her relaxed enough to let down her guard.

Harry arrived seconds later, rekindled fire in his eyes and his wand in hand. Ginny looked at her husband and smiled, though the look in her eye was not without sadness. She thought back just a few weeks in time to the evening when Harry had shared his incredible story with her through Dumbledore's Pensieve. Reflecting on that night, along with everything else she knew of Harry's trials by fire, Ginny's heart ached for him. On top of all he had endured to this point, he would have to live the rest of his life with the added burden of being Master of the Elder Wand. She shook her head, reciting in her mind the titles that had already burdened him – the Boy Who Lived … the Chosen One … Undesirable Number One … savior of the wizarding world … Master of Death … Master of the Elder Wand. Had she not been so close to all of it, she wondered if she could ever have believed it all, and yet here he was, not yet eighteen years of age – her passionate, loving husband who had only moments earlier been distraught that he might somehow have disappointed her. Overcome with emotion, Ginny thought she might never have wanted Harry more than she did at that very moment.

"Merlin, I love you!" Ginny whispered, throwing her arms around his neck as Harry stepped into the shower to join her.

"I love …" he began before her lips crashed into his and her tongue pressed forward, seeking entrance to his mouth.

Ginny shivered despite the stream of hot water washing over them. As their tongues merged and Harry's hands rose to mingle in her hair, she felt his response pressing firmly against her upper thigh. Only a moment later, she felt the same hands sliding sensually down her back until, at last, he was cupping her bum.

She pulled against his neck, trying to meld together with him as closely as she possibly could, willing herself to literally become one flesh with Harry. As she pulled up against his neck, Harry lifted her while stepping forward, pinning Ginny against the shower wall while she wrapped her legs around his waist. It took only a few moments of awkward shuffling before the head of his penis worked its way inside her.

As her weight pushed down upon him, Ginny felt as if she could feel every inch of his cock pressing relentlessly against her inner walls – every inch other than the last bit that her clit was grinding against.

"Fuck, Harry!" she grunted into his ear, eliciting a shiver from him in return. "This feels brilliant!"

"Hmm, hmm!" he mumbled as his lips once again found hers.

It was brilliant, but for some reason, Harry wasn't moving, and she wondered why. Maybe he was afraid he might hurt her. Perhaps he needed to hold steady to avoid dropping her. Then, again, he might just need some encouragement. Regardless of the situation, Ginny wanted more – needed more. She tried to lift herself upward but found that she had no leverage.

"What is it?" Harry asked, apparently sensing her increasing hunger.

"Now, Harry," she whispered into the shell of his ear before plunging her tongue inside in just the way she knew drove him wild.

Earlier in the night, she had made him come just by fucking his ear relentlessly with her tongue. It had made her feel amazingly powerful, having so much control over the man who loved her that much. "Now, Harry! Fuck me now!"

The guttural moan that escaped from somewhere deep in his throat told Ginny all she needed to know. Harry pulled slightly away from her, then slid forward. He stopped momentarily before repeating the motion. His thrust was solid, yet tentative, as if he was holding back.

"You're not going to hurt me, Harry. Harder! Please!"

She swore she could feel something snap within him, and then Harry pulled away before slamming back into her forcefully. Ginny grunted, then moaned, "Yes!"

"You're sure?" he asked in return.

"Yes! Please!" Her words were polite, but Ginny knew he could only hear it as a command.

Harry's response was immediate as he picked up the pace, pressing her against the shower wall over and over again, gaining momentum until she came undone, moaning his name repeatedly. She shuddered forcefully against his body as her legs sought desperately to hold him as firmly against her as possible. Her orgasm was as intense as any she had ever experienced, and still he continued sliding in and out of her.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes," she whispered, tears filling her eyes at his level of concern for her. Even as his body cried out for climax, his mind was consumed with thoughts of her well-being. "Yes!" she repeated. "Come for me, baby."

Ginny had never before thought of calling her husband 'baby' and the word felt strange rolling off her tongue. She wondered fleetingly if he might not like it.

"Yes!" he cried before his lips returned to the sensitive spot just behind her left earlobe and his tongue pressed desperately against her neck in perfect synchronization with each thrust of his hips. Suddenly, Harry shuddered as he stumbled forward, but before they could fall, he leaned forward, allowing the wall to hold the bulk of her weight. With one more thrust, he shuddered again, then again. Time slid slowly by, and she could still feel him throbbing relentlessly inside her.

"Fuck, I love you!" Harry literally exhaled the words against her neck as his lips closed fiercely upon her.

She knew he would leave a mark but she didn't care. In fact, something inside her longed for him to do so – to mark her as his own. Instinctively, Ginny's fingers arched against her husband's back – her nails breaking his skin.

"Oh, fuck! Yes!" he cried, shuddering once more as his hips began to buck and his whole body started to shake.

"You're mine," she said hoarsely, yet her tone of voice made clear that her statement was imperative.

"Yours only," he whispered in return. "Yours forever. Yours with all that I am."

At the opposite end of the manor, Ron Weasley awakened slowly. His wife's breathing was slow, rhythmic, reassuring. As his eyes moved repeatedly up and down her body, desire surged within him. He wanted her ... again.

"Merlin, it's more than that," Ron thought silently. "I need her."

He realized that he had needed her for years even though he had been terrified to confess how much he fancied her, nearly driving her away in the process. In fact, if he looked closely enough, he could still see tiny scars where Hermione's flock of canaries had assaulted him.

Now that she was his wife, Ron could see another risk looming on the horizon, and he promised himself that he would never allow this burning need to become overbearing. After all, Hermione's independent spirit and self-motivation were among the things he loved most about this brilliant witch who had chosen him as her life partner. He repeated the commitment he had made to himself on countless occasions – to love her with every ounce of his being without ever limiting her possibilities.

Unable to fully restrain the desire that was building steadily within him, Ron reached out and pushed a mass of deep brown curls away from Hermione's cheek. He kept his touch intentionally light, trying not to disturb her, yet hoping that she might stir nonetheless. He longed to gaze into her impossibly expressive dark brown eyes. As if she had heard his silent request, Hermione stirred gently, then struggled to open her eyes to the morning light.

"Morning," he said softly, urging his voice to communicate exactly how much he cherished every moment with her.

"Morning," she replied, a slight smile creasing her lips.

Ron leaned forward to kiss her, but his efforts were thwarted when Hermione raised her hand between them.

"Please!" she sighed emphatically. "I need to brush my teeth."

"Are you a witch or what?" Ron asked, unable to restrain the playful laughter that accompanied their now long-running joke. Before she could think or say anything, Ron cast a gentle Refreshing Charm.

"That's clever, Ron," she replied, a devilish glint flickering in her eyes.

"Always the look of surprise," he answered before closing the distance between them and kissing his wife – his wife – as passionately as he possibly could.

Hermione threw her right thigh over his legs, pinning him quickly back against the mattress. Despite a full night of lovemaking, Ron's morning erection pressed unhesitatingly against her, begging for entry. Hungry to accommodate him, Hermione reached one hand between them, grasped his cock firmly, and positioned him squarely at her entry.

Consumed by his need to be inside her, Ron's hips moved upward. Apparently Hermione was feeling similarly inspired, for she thrust down at exactly the same time, taking him completely inside her in a single motion. What happened next was something for which Ron was entirely unprepared. Merlin knows it had been marvelous every time – making love with Hermione, that was, but this was different somehow. Later he would reflect upon this moment and realize that everything that followed was the result of his meditation upon that fact that Hermione had, indeed, fulfilled his every dream by becoming his wife. But in that moment, he felt nothing but overwhelmed.

As Hermione descended upon him, enveloping him within her throbbing center, Ron lost all hope of control. He had no idea how it happened, but Hermione's vaginal walls were simultaneously hotter, wetter, smoother, and stronger than they had ever felt before. His cock literally tingled with a pleasurable fire that left him momentarily thinking he was in the midst of a low-grade orgasm, the kind he had experienced at the end of a long night of teenage wanking back at the Burrow. But the feeling was only that – momentary – for as Hermione pulled up and then slid smoothly back against him, his world exploded. The force of his orgasm tore through him in a way he had never before experienced, and Ron lost all concept of where he ended and Hermione began.

"Oh … God … Hermione … love … you!" he stammered, as his body strained to pump every ounce of himself into this woman he loved more than anything he could possibly imagine.

He froze as the physical sensations became overpowering, afraid that he couldn't take anything more.

Hermione, however, was just beginning to reach her own climax, so Ron braced himself, trying desperately to retain some tiny semblance of control. He felt her thrust against him again and again.

"Ron!" she gasped. "Love you, Ron … love you!"

It was all he could take.

"Fuck!" he screamed. "Oh, fuck!"

But then he could scream no more, as Hermione's lips were upon his and her tongue was dancing passionately with his, and their hearts beat as one, their breaths came as one, and their bodies clenched, quivered, and spasmed as one.

"I love you," Ron murmured, fighting against the need to sleep as if he had been drugged.

"Love you, too," Hermione answered, her breathing slowing into a steady, soft rhythm.

It would be two hours before either stirred again.

Hermione and Ron were slumped peacefully together at the breakfast table in Potter Manor, fingers interlaced, eyes locked dreamily upon each other's, conversation unnecessary.

Kreacher moved cheerfully about the kitchen preparing a full breakfast of black pudding, bangers, eggs, and toast for the young couples to enjoy before heading across the Channel and on to the Alps. He seemed as if years had been stripped from him, moving more quickly than Ron could ever remember, and smiling almost as if he was the reincarnation of Dobby. The thought of the fallen house elf caused a slight sigh to escape Ron's lips. No matter how wonderful things were on so many levels, the steep price of victory would rise up painfully at the most surprising of times.

"Something wrong?" Hermione asked.

"No," he replied. "I was just thinking about Dobby."

"I know," whispered Hermione. "Sometimes it's just too much …"

But Hermione's thoughts were interrupted as Harry and Ginny stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, and Harry tried to give his wife one last kiss before joining their newlywed friends for breakfast. Ginny giggled and pretended to resist his advances but submitted almost at the very first moment they were seated at the table.

Hermione gasped audibly when Harry turned in his chair while intertwining his fingers in Ginny's long red hair; as he did so, both Ginny's bruised neck and the back of his blood-stained white linen shirt became visible.

"Oi!" shouted Ron in mock dismay. "Have neither of you ever heard of a Healing Charm?"

Ginny's hand moved tentatively up to the spot slightly below and behind her left earlobe before an impish grin lit up her face.

"No, I don't think so," she answered playfully. "Why?"

Silence hung briefly in the air before both couples fell into good-natured laughter and knowing looks were exchanged without words being spoken. Moments later, Kreacher arrived at the table, levitating their breakfast plates before him.

"Master Harry, Mistress Ginny? Is you or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley requiring anything more of Kreacher?"

"Coffee, perhaps?" Harry mumbled.

"Kreacher has already put coffee and tea on the counter behind you," Kreacher said proudly.

"Then everything is wonderful," said Harry. "And, Kreacher …"

"Yes, Master?"

"Thank you for everything. And you shouldn't call me 'Master.' You and your children are free elves."

"Yes, Master Harry," said Kreacher with a deep bow. "Kreacher will return to clean after breakfast, and then we leave for your honeymoons!"

As the elf took his leave, Ron looked quizzically back at Harry. "So, what did Parkinson say when you offered her the job?"

"It took a while to sink in, I think," answered Ginny, who had made the actual proposal. "But after I told her why we thought she would be perfect for the position and Harry explained why the orphanage is so important, especially after the war, she didn't need much persuading."

"Right," added Harry. "As different as their situations are, Pansy is feeling a bit lost herself. After all, she no longer has a home of her own, and her mum has disowned her. I think it will be a job she can truly get into."

"But are you sure you can trust her to run the operations?" Ron asked.

"Aside from you, Hermione, and your parents, Pansy will be the only person who knows that Ginny and I are funding the new Dumbledore Centre for Orphaned Children. And yes, after all she has done in the last couple of weeks, I'm convinced we can trust her."

"Merlin's beard!" muttered Ron, shaking his head in genuine disbelief. "Who would have thought that Pansy Parkinson and Narcissa Malfoy would risk their lives to fight against Voldemort's remnants?"

"It's like Hermione explained while we were searching for Horcruxes," Harry began. "Remorse may be painful to endure, but it can heal even the worst sort of evil."

Hermione looked down at her meal and tried surreptitiously to wipe a single tear from her eye.

Reaching across the table, Harry took her hand in his and said, "You're truly brilliant, Hermione."

Obviously uncomfortable with such direct praise from Harry, Hermione looked away and cleared her throat. "But what about Draco?" she asked at last.

Harry looked first at Ginny before a sparkle flashed in his eyes. "I still think he's a ferret," he said as a note of levity filled his voice, "but I've asked Kingsley if he can see his way clear to allow Draco to escape prosecution."

"Do you think that's really wise?" Hermione asked, skepticism lacing her words.

"Honestly, I think he's too weak to be much of a threat on his own. Malfoy has never been much of a leader – he's just a bully who traded on his father's position and power."

"But Kingsley says he will keep Draco on a short leash," added Ginny.

Ron leaned back in his chair, silently hoping his friend knew what he was doing and trusting in Harry's judgment. After all, Harry had seen Malfoy falter atop the Astronomy Tower and Moaning Myrtle had watched while he wept in fear and despair. And who knew what he had truly planned to do when he followed Pansy onto the roof at the Burrow?

Clearing his throat, Ron gathered his thoughts to speak but was interrupted by Kreacher's return.

"Minister Shacklebolt is coming with your Portkeys, sirs and misses," the elf croaked excitedly. "It is time you is being off for your honeymoons!"

Ginny looked knowingly in Ron's direction. "Just remember that you two are in the East Wing," she said dramatically. "And we'll see you occasionally for meals – maybe! And if I hear one more comment about Healing Charms, I may just have to hex you!"