A/N: The second of many stories is here. Enjoy! (All disclaimers still apply.)

desiderium - (n.) an ardent desire or longing, particularly for something once had and now missed; a feeling of grief or regret for the absence or loss of something or someone [Latin]

It had been exactly 1,373 days, 7 hours, and 14 minutes since the event. Nearly four years of his life had been devoted to figuring out just why it had happened, and what he could do to fix it. He was quite sure that he would be the only one capable of doing anything; after all, "Master of Death" was not just a mere nickname. No, when wizards had given a name to the position, they gave it power. That seemed to be how many things worked in that blasted society: define it, give it status, and watch as that status grew beyond their wildest reckoning. That was how the Dark Lord became so feared that none would utter his own made up name; that was how the office of Minister of Magic got to be such a lofty honor; that was how "The Boy Who Lived" became so bloody famous despite not knowing how he survived when his family did not. All of it because most magicals did not understand the power they wielded.

When magicals said things, the universe responded to them. Words have power, more power than most even realized, and it was his words that had caused the event to happen. Therefore, by his reckoning, it could only be his words that made things right again. It would be the only way he could get her back. He needed her back.

Four Years Prior, The Burrow

"Look, if this is going to work out, you have to really try, you know? You can't just keeping hoping that whatever weird luck you have will keep saving you when things get rough."

"I know. It's not like it should be so difficult, yeah? I defeated the most feared Dark wizard in half a century, I managed to survive 7 years at Hogwarts packed with insane adventures and still managed to find time to graduate from the place, and yet I can't work up the bloody courage to say four simple words to the woman I love. Some fearless hero I am."

"Aw, c'mon Harry. Don't be so hard on yourself. It took Ron ages to finally pull himself together, and now he and Lavender are happier than they've ever been. That reminds me, Ron wants you to swing by sometime soon. Something about helping him set up a trust for his kids, I think."

"Yeah, poor wanker never could figure out how to deal properly with the goblins. You'd think Bill might've taught him something, having worked there and all, but alas. Thanks for listening. Really, you've been a huge help."

"Anytime, Harry. Now, you'll be at the match Saturday won't you? Harpies vs. Puddlemere, big match, lots of people you know."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. You'll have saved me seats in the prime box, won't you, Ginny?"

"Of course, you prat. You're not just the hero of our world, you're the brother I always wanted, and if getting you a cushy seat for the 10 minutes it'll take me to catch the Snitch makes you happy, I'll do it."

"Wait, you have a lot of brothers, Ginny."

"Yes, but you're the brother I wanted, Harry."

Present Day

The drive into London had never been particularly pleasant, but was far easier on him than trying most of the magical methods of transportation, so he did what was necessary. Even if it did mean occasionally dodging Arthur Weasley's well-meaning but misguided efforts to take his car apart and learn exactly how it worked. He remembered exactly what had happened to the last car Arthur had been allowed to tinker with, and would not be allowing the man to touch his prized Viper for all the Galleons in Gringotts. The American import was a bit flashy, but it wasn't like he couldn't afford it. His inheritances assured that.

On days like today, driving in to the Ministry building from his current apartment in Watford, he felt the loneliness more than usual. Before the event, she would have ridden in with him. She would have been telling him all about the inner workings of Magical Law Enforcement, and he would have contributed with what he could about his department. Not that he could say very much, but she didn't mind. She knew that they were called Unspeakables for a reason, so she cherished every detail he was able to provide.

He parked and made his way down to his desk. Papers were scattered upon it, half-scribbled notes here and there, testing out various combinations but so far finding none that worked. A few times during the day, another Unspeakable would come in, he'd offer them a look at his work, and they'd suggest some other avenue or theory. All were welcomed, though none proved fruitful that day. Most days went similarly. A picture of her hovered over his desk, a small beacon of hope that he desperately needed.

Back to Watford he drove, making sure to be careful of the foot traffic headed over to Vicarage Road. The last thing he needed right then was to draw undue attention to himself, lest any hooligan think him an easy mark and have to be forcibly proven wrong. He made it inside his apartment without incident, and sat heavily on the couch in front of the telly, already tuned to Watford's pre-match broadcast and a hot meal prepared for him on an end table. The apartment's house elf, Rook, was also seated and ready for the match. (The last owner of the apartment had been a muggleborn and an avid supporter of the club, and it was easier to go along with Rook than try and convert him to another side.)

Once the postmatch recap had been completed (Watford had won 2-nil), Rook turned off the telly and went to bed. A similar thought crossed his mind, but as he lay staring at the ceiling, he wondered how he could possibly attempt sleep with the raucous celebrations still going on outside.

Approximately 1400 Days Prior, Crawley

"I don't see why you haven't just done it already, Harry. It would really ease your mind. And hers."

"I want to, I really do. I'm just trying to come up with the right time and place to do it. We're both so busy, and I just want to make it special."

"Noble as ever. You know that however you ask her, she'll probably love it regardless, don't you?"

"I'm sure she will, but I just don't want to disappoint her and undersell the whole thing somehow. Just kneeling down in the middle of the street is great and all, but she deserves more than that."

"Harry, take it from someone who's been proposed to: the location doesn't matter anywhere near as much as the person proposing. My husband proposed to me at the site of our first date, and that was lovely. When Justin proposed to Hermione, he did so at exactly the stroke of midnight on New Year's in the shadow of Big Ben, and she snogged the life out of him for it. It doesn't have to be the most perfect proposal in history, as long as it means something special to the two of you."

"Thanks Mrs. Granger. I've kinda been overthinking it a bit, I guess."

"It's only natural, Harry. I wish you both the best of luck."

Present Day

Finally, it seemed as if things were beginning to click. He had just been looking at the problem from the wrong angle the entire time. He didn't need to physically send himself back in time; in fact, a quick message would probably be enough, and that made things much easier. It would still take a few more days to make sure that the message would be perfect, and he wouldn't get to say a whole lot, but for the first time in 1,375 days, a smile crossed his face. Soon, he thought, this will all be over.

"First test message: Proof of Concept" suddenly blinked into his brain. His smile got ever so slightly wider.

1,382 Days Ago (Approximately one week prior to the event), Sweden

"You know, Harry, I'm quite flattered you came to me for advice on this matter."

"You're a very good friend of mine. Why wouldn't I come to you for advice?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are plenty of reasons, but I'm glad you chose not to think of them either. Moving right along, you said in your letter that you'd figured out the date, but not the location. Are you considering Sweden?"

"Not really. But you're here, so I figured I might as well make the trip just in case. Besides Sweden, do you have any ideas?"

"Let me think. I know that many people have proposed at famous landmarks. Many others have proposed at locations of prior meetings, or other locations of some great importance. However, something tells me that you want to propose somewhere a bit different than that, Harry."

"Did the Nargles tell you that, Luna?"

"Oh no, Harry, it couldn't have been the Nargles. They aren't at all interested in the mating displays of humans, you see. But beyond that, you've always tried to be more low-key whenever possible, and I think that trying to propose somewhere out in public would be all wrong for you. What you need is somewhere secluded, somewhere that only a few people might even consider. Does that help?"

"Actually, yes, I think it does. Thanks, Luna. Say hi to Serenity for me."

"I will. Good luck, Harry Potter."

Present Day

"Your calculations seems to be correct, and your proof of concept test undeniably worked. I was able to replicate your findings quite easily, so as long as you believe you have the correct time calculated, I hereby approve your request to move this project forward, and I wish you luck in completing it." The head Unspeakable signed the necessary paperwork and took it with him. Now, finally, it was time. 1,377 days of heartache had come to this. He pointed his wand to his temple, thought the incantation, and prepared the message that would likely change his life.

1,377 Days Ago (The Event)

One last time, Harry made sure the ring box was in his pocket. He had meticulously planned a timeline for how the evening was to go, and so far everything had gone according to plan. All that was left after this quick shopping stop was dinner, and then a moonlit proposal on one of the mountains near Hogwarts. She came out of the dressing room wearing a beautiful yellow dress, which she modeled much to his delight. At that moment, Harry Potter was as happy as he had ever been. And then came the question that would trigger what for the next 1,377 days he would think of as "the event."

"You know, Hannah told me that she had a dress like this once. Do you think she'd look prettier in it than me, Harry?"

As he was about to answer, he suddenly heard his own voice in his mind. "You love her. She has feelings, too. Spare them now!" Not really understanding what had just happened, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"No one could look prettier than you do right now, Susan."

Susan turned, squealed in delight, and very passionately kissed her boyfriend for providing just the answer she was looking for. She knew it was a bit shallow to fish for a compliment right then, but it wasn't like he was going to do something stupid like say "She'd probably look fat in it too." That, after all, would cause a whole big event, since she would probably never forgive him for such an insult.

Good thing her Harry wasn't that dumb.

Present Day

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter were ready to celebrate the biggest event in their lives: becoming parents for the first time. All was well.