Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.
Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.
Chapter 8
"I take it back," Emily said. She was draped across one of the more comfortable chairs in his office, peering more out the window behind him than at him as he spoke as if there was something fascinating in the dark sky behind him.
"What's that?" Harry asked. It was the first time she'd interrupted his story. She hadn't seemed that interested in his conversations with the horcrux, if talking to his own head can be called a conversation. Nor had she seemed very interested in his Japanese exploits. She'd perked up the most at the talk of Fumiko and Priya.
"I do think you are an idiot," she said. She slid off the side of the chair and to her feet before walking straight to the disillusioned cabinet where he'd kept the alcohol he didn't want normal visitors to notice. He should have known that such charms wouldn't have fooled Lord Voldemort.
More worryingly, though, was her rather sudden increased interest in alcohol. He searched through his memories of her memories, trying to remember if she ever drank that much in the past. But the most he could remember was her curled up with wine after Martin's death. Or an occasional drink when out.
"And why's that?" Harry asked as she rifled through the bottles.
"Don't you have anything Muggle?" she frowned.
"There should be a twenty-one year-," he started.
"Found it," she said. She plucked one of his ever-frozen circular ice balls from a bucket inside the cabinet and tossed it into one of the glasses. She then proceeded to fill it halfway up with the whisky. Harry frowned as she took a rather large first gulp. He wasn't sure if he should be annoyed that she hadn't offered to make him one or not.
"I'm surprised you prefer Muggle alcohol," Harry said.
"It gets the job done better," she said with a shrug.
"They get the job done exactly the same," Harry countered.
"Your opinion," Emily said.
"It's a fact," Harry countered. Emily narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. She walked deliberately back to the chair, glass in one hand, bottle in the other.
"The magical stuff tends to lack the feeling of actual alcohol. Too many charms and potions and other additives. Too interested in being a magical version of something. And too busy hiding what it really is," Emily said. She took another large sip of whisky.
It wasn't a relatively new opinion. Although it was one he'd heard mostly from Muggleborn alcoholics. And one that was based on absurd placebos more than any tangible fact. But it could be a problem, so he made a note of it and tried to steer the conversation away from her budding alcoholism.
"You were commenting on my intelligence," he said.
"Well you were being an idiot, so it seemed fitting," Emily said. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you."
"So, you figured it out?" Harry asked, his brows raised.
"Of course I did," Emily scoffed. "I am a rather intelligent woman you know."
"I know," Harry said. He eyed her carefully as she continued to drink.
"Still, I am curious as to how you cocked it all up," Emily said.
"What?" Harry blinked.
"You know, the beautiful Indian Healer who was obviously head over heels for you. I've been here long enough to know that if you two were still a thing, I'd have seen her by now," Emily said. "Hell, I'd have probably gotten my instructions and potion regimen from her and not her grandmother."
"That wasn't what I meant," Harry said.
"I know," Emily said. "But it was by far the most interesting part of your story."
"But the least important," Harry said.
"That's certainly debatable," Emily countered.
"I don't think so," Harry said.
"Really?" Emily said.
"Compared to everything else? I would doubt my love life winds up being much more than a footnote in history," Harry said.
"You don't read many biographies if you think that's the case," Emily said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"If you think you're worthy of the history books you'll find that there will be a chapter or two devoted to your accomplishments and then the rest of it will be speculating on the juicer bits. Like an exotic bedwarmer," Emily commented.
"Yeah, she'd kill anyone who called her that," Harry said.
"I'm sure they'll wait until you're both dead to talk about how little Priya Patel broke your heart and turned you into a young hermit," Emily said.
"I'm not a hermit," Harry countered.
"If you insist," Emily said.
"Well I'm not," Harry said.
"If you insist," Emily said again as she finished the alcohol she'd poured into her glass. She glared at it for a moment before refilling it.
"Are you going to save me any of my whisky?" Harry asked.
"Unlikely," Emily responded.
"I don't remember you being an utter lush," Harry said.
"It makes everything hurt less," Emily said.
"What?" Harry asked. Emily just took another large sip of her whisky.
"We weren't talking about me," she commented, her voice filled with an authority he'd never taken note of before.
"I feel like I might need to take that away from you," Harry said.
"I feel like you'd die trying," Emily countered.
"That makes me want to do it more," Harry said.
"They will only find bits of you," Emily said.
"At least you found something you enjoy," Harry sighed.
"Are you done talking about you yet or?" Emily asked.
"You want more story time?" Harry teased. Emily glared in response.
"It is slightly less boring than you making facetious comments about whether or not I've solved all of your grand mysteries yet," Emily said.
"Well, had you then you'd have figured out the answer to your previous question," Harry commented.
"Aren't you the cheeky one tonight," Emily responded.
"Wonder who I got that from," Harry sighed.
"Please. You're not that much like me. I was never dumped," Emily said.
"So sure it was her decision?" Harry asked.
"Positive," Emily said.
"If you're so sure then I guess there isn't much of a point to me continuing then," Harry said.
"Now you're just being a grouch. But fine, you could talk about your supposed reason for bringing me back. You know that super dark wizard that you brought me back to fight who hasn't done anything since you lost miserably against him," Emily said.
"I'm sure he's plotting something," Harry said.
"Or he decided to be done with it and is hanging around on the French coast picking up young ladies," Emily said.
"Really?" Harry asked, his brows raised.
"You're probably right," Emily said. "He's probably hanging around on the French coast picking up young men," Emily said.
"Really?" Harry asked again.
"What?" Emily asked, drinking more alcohol.
"I don't think you're taking the threat seriously," Harry said.
"I'm not," Emily responded. "But if talking about your supposed reason for bringing me back isn't amusing enough for you, I can always go to bed."
"My supposed reason?" Harry asked.
"I don't think you brought me back to fight Grindelwald," Emily said.
"Well you're not entirely wrong," Harry said.
"Gross," Emily said, making a face.
"You're an attractive young lady, Em. But I'm not into bitchy drunks who murdered my parents," Harry said.
"Don't. Call. Me. That," Emily said. The temperature in his office dropped about ten degrees when she spoke.
"You're a mean drunk," Harry said.
"I'm a mean everything," Emily spat. "You will not call me the name they used."
"With that attitude maybe it is time for you to go to bed," Harry said.
"You will not tell me what to do," Emily said.
"Were you always so easy?" Harry asked. Emily narrowed her eyes and took another sip of the alcohol.
"Probably," she said.
"So, you really don't think Grindelwald is a threat?" Harry asked.
"To me? Of course not. He thinks I'm dead. There's nothing preventing me from fleeing to Canada and living the rest of my days in ignorance," Emily said.
"You've obviously never had Canadian whiskey," Harry made a face.
"Imports Harry," Emily smiled.
"Touche," he sighed. He leaned back in the chair at his desk and turned his gaze to the window for a moment. Part of him didn't think she'd be capable of sitting it out. He assumed she'd think more like him on those lines. But now he was starting to realize just how wrong he could be.
The soft sound of ice in glass turned his attention back to his desk. A glass of whisky rested on his desk when he turned his attention back to it. Emily was staring at one of his bookshelves, obviously trying to act like she didn't notice.
"So," she said after he took a sip. "What happened next. I'm sure the Japanese ministry wasn't thrilled."
"You're right," he sighed as the memories of those days came forward.
"How many of them did you kill?" Emily asked.
"Strangely that's not how I solve all of my problems," Harry said.
"Explains a lot," Emily said.
"It worked out so well for you," Harry scoffed.
"Debatable," Emily countered.
"Well this is going nowhere," Harry said.
"Tell me what happened next," Emily responded.
"Well this might surprise you," Harry said, unable to hide the smirk as he spoke. "But I can be a bit of a cock."
"No? You?" Emily responded.
"I know, shocking," Harry said.
"Not sure what that has to do with anything, though," Emily responded.
"Well, it took me about a week to be up and around properly after everything. And by then they'd figured out something had to have happened. And I suppose it wasn't so hard to figure out who'd done it. Priya and Avery managed to keep them away from me for about a month," Harry explained.
"Commendable," Emily said. "What did you do?"
"Well a lot of people in the area, ones that I guess would have been magical if not for the area, that had never left or never tried, started to exhibit magical powers," Harry explained.
"Makes sense," Emily responded.
"They were looking for any sort of guidance. Some went to the magical institutions all over Japan. Most didn't receive much help or assistance. Everything was too early, too raw. Even if they could demonstrate magic it wasn't considered effective enough to warrant teaching. Many returned home, disheartened."
"And they found you," Emily said.
"No," Harry responded. "They found Fumiko and Priya."
"Oh?" Emily asked, raising her brows. Harry noticed she'd let her drink rest empty for a while. Perhaps now he was being entertaining enough to warrant paying attention to.
"Fumiko was one of those who started to show magical talent. She; however, was lucky enough to both have knowledge of magic and access to Avery. He'd started to cultivate her talent in the days that followed. And she'd talked to a few of her friends. Avery was rather overwhelmed at the thought of teaching fifteen plus women how to try to use basic levitation spells. But Priya wasn't."
"And?" Emily asked.
"The Japanese Ministry was rather…concerned…about unregistered educators. Apparently, they doubted we would be careful enough to keep magic a secret. So they came to our lessons at the Shinto shrine about a month later. It was one of the first ones I'd bothered attending," Harry said.
"And?" Emily asked again.
"And I got flippant with three Japanese Aurors who were there to try to ascertain if we were being careful enough and ended up getting my ass kicked," Harry admitted.
"What were you afraid to take off the kid gloves?" Emily laughed as if the notion of Harry losing to a few Aurors.
"Nope," Harry said.
"Then how?" Emily asked. "I refuse to believe you could lose to three measly Aurors."
"Well I did. And it wasn't even as close as you and Grindelwald," Harry countered.
"Or you and Grindelwald," Emily sneered.
"Pretty sure I was more effective against Gellert than I was against the Japanese," Harry said.
"There you go," Emily said. "Problem solved. Just grab three of them and go off him."
"If only," Harry said.
"How did you lose?" Emily asked.
"I wasn't myself," Harry shrugged.
"I'm betting there's more to it than that," Emily responded.
"Well, you said you'd figured it out," Harry sighed. Emily stared at him, her expression one of mild annoyance.
"Continue then," Emily said.
"Avery bailed me out. He settled down the Japanese who were quite happy with their dominance of Harry Potter and calmed down the entire situation rather quickly," Harry explained.
"Yes. I would imagine they did some serious bragging over their evening sake," Emily responded.
"One would think. Anyway, after they settled down, they rather kindly explained to me that under no uncertain terms would we be allowed to teach such English perversions, concepts and magic to Japanese citizenry. They did not take kindly to such English invasion and would never bother to accredit our efforts. And that we should take this as a lesson that we should cease all instructional activities immediately," Harry explained.
"And I'm sure you took their advice to heart and followed it to the letter," Emily said.
"Naturally," Harry admitted. "Except for the part where I completely ignored it."
"Of course," Emily responded.
"Anyway, they didn't have much to worry about at first. It took me a couple of months to recover and their show of force scared off most of our adult students. Some of the children didn't care, although I suspect they didn't have parental approval. Priya and Avery kept teaching while I recovered," Harry continued.
"And then?" Emily asked.
"About six months later they returned. I'd bought some land outside of Nagasaki and was starting to build our little school. Word got around to them as I knew it would and they reacted as I assumed they would," Harry said.
"They came back in force as a final warning?" Emily asked.
"Predicable, aren't they?" Harry nodded.
"And this time?" she asked.
"This time fifteen Aurors showed up with five Japanese governmental officials. They made some threatening remarks toward Priya and Fumiko while Avery and I were working on the roof. Then toward our students who'd attempted to defend the two women," Harry said.
"Why?" Emily asked.
"Well, the Japanese still weren't sure how to react to the return of magic. The Japanese government wasn't being helpful to the plight of new and confused witches and wizards. I was, and was doing it for free. The locals were trying to impress that point upon the government officials," Harry said.
"Understandable," Emily responded.
"Things got a bit heated. I decided to investigate the commotion. One of the local women got into it with one of the Aurors. He decided his best course of not dealing with that problem was just to stun her. Priya stepped in and was cursed instead," Harry explained.
"Oops," Emily said.
"It was an unfortunate move for him," Harry agreed.
"And what did you do then?"
"I had a nice pleasant conversation with one of the ministry officials there. After hashing out some details we agreed that our institution would be accredited by the Japanese government and receive a stipend for our efforts. There were some conditions, like agreeing that it should be Japanese school with mostly Japanese staff, and a few other compromises. But we sorted it out fairly quickly," Harry said.
"And how did you make that happen?" Emily raised her brows.
"I wouldn't tell the official how to undo what I'd done to the other nineteen members of his party until we hashed out an agreement," Harry said.
"Devious," Emily laughed.
"It worked," Harry shrugged. "A few of the Aurors tried to get back at me after. It ended even worse for them. But they're still alive."
"And I doubt they brag about beating Harry Potter any longer," Emily said.
"I would think not," Harry admitted.
"And I would think that's enough for tonight," Emily said with a yawn. She rose from the chair.
"And we're barely even halfway through," Harry said.
"Well wouldn't want to do the whole thing in one night," she said. And then, without any more ceremony, she turned for the door, taking the bottle of whisky with her. Harry watched her go without another word.
After she left he turned and stared out over the castle grounds. His first office, at his old school, didn't have quite the same view. It hadn't been a bad view. But his school certainly hadn't been a castle.
No, it had simply been a two-story building built up around a large outdoor courtyard. The office there was tucked into one of the corners and the view was mostly of the adjacent office. But he'd managed to angle himself enough to get a view of the cherry trees in the courtyard.
Still, it had been a nice view in its own right. But not quite as majestic as the castle grounds sprawling out around him. He sighed as he stared out at the grounds. He wanted to talk. And he knew who he wanted to talk to. He knew who he needed to talk to. And he knew that he wasn't going to be able to talk to her. So instead he leaned back and kept staring out the window.
They'd finished the school midway through summer. With help of the Japanese ministry they'd finished the building rather quickly. Harry spent the majority of the daytime hours for the rest of that summer teaching whatever he could think of to whomever showed up at his little school.
And then the evening hours were mostly occupied by ministry officials and varying degrees of bureaucratic bullshit. He knew they were only trying to help. But it still irritated him. They'd argued about nearly everything, from curriculum to staff to just what the student base should be.
Harry hadn't really wanted to turn it into Hogwarts. He'd just thought of it as more of a refuge for anyone with budding talents to come for a day or a week or a year. They'd compromised again with a simple solution. Why not both?
So that was the decision. They'd start with one group of eleven-year-old children and continue to tutor any adults who showed up interested in gaining a magical education.
The students were more difficult to gain. But there was a larger pool to draw from given the recent return of magic. The problem was that most of them were from families who had been aware of magic at some point. Some of whom had been able to perform very minor spells, but not quite enough to warrant educating.
And the Japanese ministry didn't trust Harry enough to entrust him with many of the ones that did. Nor did most of the older families want to send their children to some new school with no history. He figured he would be lucky to wind up with twenty students in the inaugural class.
The evening meetings grew exhausting and repetitive. He hated dealing with the governments. It often felt incredibly futile and made him just want to leave it all behind and move onto the next great adventure.
But he didn't want to leave the country before Avery and Fumiko's wedding. When he thought about it, that annoyed him. Not for any reason he could identify. And he knew he was being stupid by thinking it.
The problem, he thought, was that he'd grown accustomed to making Avery deal with most of the bureaucrats while he made snide comments. But instead he had to wade through that himself while Avery spent more time helping plan his wedding.
It probably bled into his mood more than he cared to admit. Because one evening Priya, after a minor argument the specifics of which Harry couldn't remember, invited herself along to the meetings. And having her there made it better.
It didn't change the negotiations at all. But it calmed Harry, and it made the evenings easier. And they could joke about it after and pursue other activities for the rest of the night.
She didn't come to every meeting though. She wasn't quite as interested in it as he was. And really, he wasn't really sure why he was that interested in it. He'd never really wanted to settle down. And, if he was being honest, he didn't plan on doing it forever. But, he thought it sounded like something he'd be good at. And something he could do for a few years before moving on to whatever took his fancy. It gave him something to focus on for the time being, though, and he was doing just that. But, he knew, there was more than simply that keeping him in Japan.
Shortly after Avery and Fumiko were engaged, he'd sold the house in Osaka. Fumiko wanted to live closer to her native Nagasaki and Avery was more than willing to oblige. He'd told Harry to do whatever he wanted with the house. But Harry didn't like the notion of being too far from Avery.
He'd talked with Priya about it. Although he didn't tell her all of his concerns. He didn't think she'd really understand them. And that seemed like it would just end up being an awkward conversation.
In the end, they'd wound up looking for homes around Nagasaki as well. It only took a couple of weeks for him and Priya to find something they thought suitable. Avery took longer, but he had more expensive tastes.
He felt oddly adult while he and Priya moved their possessions into the home mostly by Apparating back and forth between the two destinations. The entire process, including unpacking and rearranging only took a few hours and the first night felt oddly strange with the new surroundings. But they grew used to it quickly.
He'd taken a few days off of the ministry meetings after to properly enchant the home to provide the level of secrecy he was interested in. But after it had been back to work as the summer drew to a close.
One night, after a particularly long meeting while the debate on staff members was winding down, he'd Apparated to the front path, as close as one could to the home without risking permanent injury.
It was a cool night with a nice breeze. He remembered pausing for a moment as he appeared, enjoying the gentle breeze on his face as he did. He only lingered for a moment before stepping inside.
"I'm back," he said as he entered stepped into the kitchen and flipping a light on. A quick glance to the living room found Priya laying on the couch, covered by a fuzzy emerald blanket. She only had one dim light on in the room but it was enough to see that her hair was down and unbraided, her face looking remarkably young without any makeup. The windows in the living room were open and she had the blanket pulled up to her chin, clutching it close to her body.
"Welcome back," she said quietly, smiling as she saw him. She'd been feeling a bit under the weather that day. A headache and a stomach bug prevented her from coming with him to the meeting.
"Feeling better?" he asked, noticing she had a cup of tea on the end table. He turned around to see a pot on the counter. He flicked his wand to bring it to an acceptable temperature and poured himself a cup.
"Much," she said. "I told you I just needed a bath and a nap."
"You did," he said, sniffing at the tea. "Did you do anything to this?"
"No," she giggled. "Lust Potion tea was something I think I'm only going to try once."
"Good," Harry chuckled. "And you said that was fourth? Do I even want to know what Witch Weekly thought were three other fun ways to kill an evening?"
"Probably," Priya giggled again.
"Well, maybe this weekend," Harry said, sipping his tea.
"You wish you were that lucky," she said.
"Are you cold?" he asked, gesturing to the blanket and doing his best to change the subject. "Want me to close the windows?"
"I could just like the blanket, you know," she countered.
"I'm sure. But it's still rather heavy for summer," Harry said.
"Or I could be naked under it," Priya said. Harry raised his brows and looked at her. He could make out the outline of her thin form beneath the blanket and was willing to accept that as a possibility.
"I can see your sock," Harry countered. Priya looked down toward her feet then back at him. A moment later her other foot poked out from underneath the blanket. She hooked a toe into her sock and pulled it down off her leg, kicking it into the center of the room before both feet disappeared back under the blanket.
"Or not," she said.
"Well there's only one way to find out," Harry said. He took a large sip of tea before flipping the light in the kitchen off and stepping toward her in the living room.
"That's true," she nodded. When he approached the couch she held her arms up, underneath the blanket. It was a simple enough gesture, one he could understand readily enough. He obliged her by crawling onto her. She wrapped her arms around him, the blanket both encompassing him and preventing him from having her.
He remembered kissing her for a very long time. He didn't know why that night seemed so important in his memories. But he remembered their hands wandering everywhere. He remembered simply staring into her eyes and wondering if, to her, he looked how she did to him. There was nothing but happiness in her expression, in her eyes, in her touch, in her kisses. It almost seemed to make her glow as they kissed.
Eventually, somehow, he wound up under the blanket as well. She hadn't been naked, but she'd been pretty close and it hadn't taken him long to rectify that situation. They kissed almost the whole time, at least until she slipped her lips from his and dug her nails into his back. She'd slid her lips to his ear, whispering to him, begging him, and then giving him one simple command he was happy to obey.
After he lay on her, his forehead pressed to hers as both their breathing returned to normal. She spoke first.
"I love you, Harry," she said.
"I love you, Priya," he responded, shocked by the warmth that seemed to radiate around them as the truth of his words rang through him. He kissed her once more. "Should we head to bed?"
"No," she said. "Let's stay like this for a bit."
"Okay," he said, finding it hard to think of anything that sounded better than that.
"How was the meeting?" she asked. He couldn't help but chuckle softly. Of all the small talk they could have, or sweet nothings she could whisper, she'd gone right back to business.
"Fine," he said. "They've agreed to start with five classes and go from there. They're adamant on Japanese professors. They're going to start vetting candidates to bring to other meetings."
"Just five?" she asked.
"I think they'll add more around third or fourth year. But they want to ensure we can do the basic knowledge subjects first," Harry said.
"And you're going to teach?" she asked.
"Transfiguration probably," Harry said.
"Really?" she asked. "Not Defense?"
"Not one of the five," Harry said. "We eventually agreed on Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and History."
"Interesting choices," Priya said.
"I wanted to switch out History for Defense. They would only do it for a type of Divination and Astronomy slash Astrology hybrid. They put more stock in that here, I think," Harry said.
"They do," Priya responded.
"And they're only going to let me have one other non-Japanese professor," Harry said.
"I see," Priya frowned.
"So, do you want to teach potions?" he asked.
"What about Alex?" she countered.
"I don't think he wants to teach anyone besides Fumiko. And I think they should maybe have some time to be newlyweds," Harry said.
"Yeah," Priya agreed.
"So?" he asked again. Priya paused, but then nodded.
"I think I'd like that," she said.
"Me too," Harry said.
"I don't really remember much from first year potions, though," Priya frowned.
"It shouldn't matter. They're giving us copies of the curriculum from the other schools and a guideline of what the students should learn year by year," Harry said.
"And likely a bit of oversight," Priya said.
"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I can't tell if they want me to fail or not. They're being helpful to an extent. It's just a weird vibe."
"They don't know you well if they think you're going to fail," Priya said. Harry smiled and kissed her.
"No, they don't," he said.
"And it's just going to be one year of students to start right? So, I'll have plenty of time to work on our research?" Priya asked.
"Well, one year and I think a once a week adult class. But yes, I think we should have plenty of time to write up the research," Harry said.
"Good," Priya said. "Then it's just working on the doctorate too."
"Are you sure you want to teach and not just focus on that?" Harry asked.
"I'm sure," Priya said quietly. She leaned up to kiss him before resting back on the pillow.
"As long as you're sure," Harry said.
"I am," Priya said. "But I do have a question for you."
"What's that?" Harry asked.
"What are you feeding me after my wonderful performance?" she asked.
"You've been home all day and I get to make dinner?" Harry teased.
"I went shopping. And we both know you don't want to eat my cooking," Priya asked.
"Your last curry and tandoori chicken were fine," Harry said.
"Oh? Fine? Well isn't that just a ringing endorsement," Priya teased.
"Well what would you like?" Harry asked.
"You're the chef," Priya said.
"Pepper steak?" Harry teased.
"No," Priya said.
"Cheeseburger?" Harry asked.
"No," Priya said.
"Steaks and potatoes?" Harry asked.
"Do you want me to ever sleep with you again?" Priya asked.
"Yes," Harry answered.
"So, what are you making me for dinner?" Priya asked again.
"I feel like that's going to be based entirely on what you bought today," Harry said. He kissed her once more before rising and finding some of his clothing. Once he was decent enough he walked back to the kitchen.
"What did you come up with?" Priya asked as she joined him into the kitchen, adjusting her clothing as she sat on one of the stools.
"You bought a whole lot of vegetables. I'm just going to stir fry a few of them and make some rice. Boring, but about all the effort I want to put into food right now," Harry said.
"After all the effort I put in?" Priya faux-pouted.
"Seemed fitting," Harry agreed as he started on dinner. It didn't take him very long to make dinner, nor did it take them long to eat it. After, they simply relaxed with a bottle of wine and the cool evening air. Their conversation didn't go anywhere until Harry crawled into bed and slid an arm around her waist.
"I received a letter from my parents today," she whispered in the darkness as she pressed her body back to his. Harry bit his lip before responding.
"Oh?" he said.
"They're going to be in India in two weeks," she said. "And they'd like to meet you."
"You told them about me?" he asked.
"Well, I told my grandmother about you," Priya said. "My parents…well…they know we were doing research together."
"But not that we're sleeping together?" Harry said.
"I mean they're smart people, I assume they figured it out. But I haven't told them directly yet," Priya said.
"Am I to be your research assistant or your boyfriend?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Priya responded.
"It's a day for ringing endorsements, isn't it," Harry said, perhaps more tersely than he would have liked.
"You know it's not that," Priya frowned. "My parents are weird. And I'm the oddball that ran away to Japan rather than fawn over the nice Indian boy they were trying to set me up with."
"Anyone I know?" Harry asked.
"Considering he's five years older than me I would think probably not," Priya frowned. "But do you really want to talk about other men?"
"Are they still trying?" Harry asked.
"Not overtly," Priya said. "But it will probably come up at least once when we meet them."
"Even with me there?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes," Priya said. "They tried to emasculate my first boyfriend when I was thirteen because he was too white."
"Sounds fun," Harry said.
"And you're not allowed to curse them," Priya said.
"I would have never even considered that," Harry said.
"For some reason I don't believe that," Priya said.
"Oh, come on, I'm not that hex happy," Harry said.
"Uh-huh. So, you'll come with me?" Priya asked.
"Of course. But I would much rather be introduced as your boyfriend than anything else," Harry said. He paused as he said it. He didn't like that sentence but he wasn't quite sure why.
"Okay," Priya said. "Have you ever been to India?"
"I was in Bihar once a couple of years ago," Harry said.
"Bihar?" Priya asked. "Was it around the time of the massacres?"
"No comment," Harry said.
"What did you do?" Priya asked, wiggling around in bed to face him.
"Got in the way, mostly," Harry yawned.
"You are a master of euphemism," Priya said.
"I'll take that compliment," Harry said.
"Are you not going to tell me?" Priya asked.
"It's not one of my more interesting stories," Harry said. "And I'm tired. I'll tell you in the morning."
"Okay," Priya said, pressing her face into his neck. Harry closed his eyes, his mind still trying to determine just what bothered him about the earlier sentence. Something about the word choice sat wrong with him. But he was too tired to dwell on it.
He remembered the trip to India fondly. They'd spent a week there, mostly in Mumbai. He felt like an idiotic tourist but it was nice to have another idiotic tourist that at least spoke the language. He'd ribbed Priya for not knowing much about her home country, only to take her taunts, in an amazingly bad Indian accent, about how she'd been born and bred in England.
They enjoyed their time sightseeing regardless. Harry always liked observing new cultures. If he was honest, it made him want to travel once more. But this time with a slightly younger, distinctly less male companion.
They'd only spent a couple of the days of their vacation with her parents. And, to his surprise, it was mostly uneventful. Her parents were cautious but cordial. And Priya didn't do anything to remotely hide any aspect of their relationship. In fact, she'd kissed him right before them when they were introduced. Later he would learn that her grandmother actually thought Harry was better for her than anyone else they'd tried to throw in front of her.
They never told him, but deep down he thought that they saw him as their best chance to get Priya back to England. He didn't have the heart to mention that the two of them had never discussed that possibility.
But, the best part of it, and it was probably mildly racist of him to think but he didn't care, was seeing Priya in a sari. He had no real reason why. But something about seeing her in clothing he considered exotic greatly amused him.
It was funny, if he thought about it. He'd seen her in all sorts of outfits running the gamut from lingerie to basic work clothing. But when she'd joined him in the hotel lobby after spending far too long getting ready wearing a turquoise and gold sari with matching jewelry, he'd just stared at her.
She expected some type of snide comment, he assumed, but he'd been unable to make one. Or do much more than stare at her while they joined her parents at a family party. He felt like an inept buffoon for the majority of the party as his attention focused solely on Priya. He'd even been a little reluctant to unwrap her after the party.
After she'd joked that she hated wearing them. But maybe if he was good she'd wear one again. And then that she'd probably have to wear one for her wedding, whenever that came. Those words had lingered in the darkness of the bedroom.
And then it all clicked to Harry. But that had been the last night of their vacation and they returned back to Nagasaki the next morning only to wind up ankle deep in helping with the last minute preparations for Avery and Fumiko's wedding.
Despite the months of planning, the event itself snuck up on Harry. Probably, he assumed, because it wasn't his own. And he'd grown busy with the staff of his school and the ministry guidelines for the curriculum.
They hadn't resisted Priya nearly as much as he'd expected. Deep down he assumed they were just happy that he hadn't suggested Avery as his reputation preceded him even if no one commented on it.
Harry found himself present for the other staff decisions. They'd hired mostly youth with the exception of an older charms teacher with fifty years of experience. When Harry asked, she explained that she and her husband were originally from Nagasaki and hoped to help out. And Harry was glad for the help.
He even contracted one of the ministry officials, a man in his forties who'd been the most productive in their sessions, to oversee the institution part time to ensure they were staying on track. The man had been rather surprised by the offer, indicating it would be part of his job to do so anyway, but Harry told him he'd prefer to be proactive than reactive and they worked their way around any possible conflicts.
So with two weeks left before the start of the school year he found himself with a completed building perfectly up to the standards the Japanese expected, a staff where he and Priya were by far the least qualified people on it, and a list of twenty-two students.
The wedding wound up being the first real day off he'd taken between vacationing with Priya and the start of the school year. He found himself surprisingly busier than he expected, never having dealt with a wedding before.
He spent the majority of the ceremony next to a surprisingly nervous Alexander Avery. He and Priya were the only two in attendance that were technically guests of the groom. The ceremony itself was a rather quiet affair of mostly relatives, but the reception after was much larger.
In fact, it was surprisingly larger. Quite a few Japanese ministry officials showed up, along with just about everyone they'd come into contact with in Nagasaki. A few Londoners even showed and chatted with Avery. Some of them gave Harry long stares but he ignored them. Still, Harry was shocked at the amount of people that came.
He spent the majority of the morning shaking hands and being personable. He probably would have ended up killing someone if not for the exotic beauty in a stunning turquoise dress at his side for the entire duration.
Unfortunately, as the ceremony started, Priya left to take a seat while he joined Avery at the altar. Harry found himself tuning out most of the ceremony and reflecting on the last few years of his life. If someone had told him years ago that he'd be the Best Man at a wedding for a Death Eater he would have probably attacked that person.
He rejoined Priya for the reception, an outdoor party lit by fairies fluttering between the trees in a cleared-out bit of forest near the new school. He danced with Priya for what felt like hours, took a turn with Fumiko while Avery refreshed drinks, and ate way too much of the ever-replenishing food.
And then he found himself in the middle of everyone as they all expected some type of speech. He raised his glass to the bride and groom as no words came to him. It couldn't have been more than a few moments but it felt like an eternity.
What could he say about Alexander Avery? What could he actually say? He'd even spent time planning it. But when the time came there were no words. There was too much he just couldn't talk about.
How could he? He couldn't talk about the way Avery looked at young Celia Borgin and how he'd recognized that look on another man's face and how it sent a pang through his chest. Or the rage he felt when he watched the man cradling the bodies of his first wife and son.
And he certainly couldn't talk about how that event led directly what the English Aurors still mourned as the Blackest Night in their history. The twenty-eight names from that massacre were still emblazoned on the back wall of the Auror office, to be remembered for their sacrifice, according to the plaque.
The fact that they were simply all too stupid to give up the names of the four Aurors that ambushed and killed an incredibly weak witch and her squib son in their own home never seemed to come up. No, instead they were considered brave and noble. But, in the end, those four joined their colleagues as well.
But Harry couldn't talk about the loyalty Avery had shown through the war. It would be improper to mention his service during the war. People would get the wrong idea.
He could talk about loyalty though. He just couldn't start until much later. And so he did. The words took a while to come to him, but they eventually did.
Harry spoke about the man that traveled with him for those years. The man who'd been by his side for years, always willing to help out with anything. The man who'd taught him every bit of magic he'd known, who'd taught him how to properly drink, who was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father or a brother, who encouraged him to chase after anything that he wanted.
And somewhere along the way, that man had found what he wanted. And ever since he did he'd become obviously happier. And it was great to see two people in love. He wished them the best in the years to come.
He paused as he finished the speech, sipping the wine left in his glass as his mind jumbled for a moment. He'd only used part of what he'd prepared, the rest of it just seemed to come to him in the moment.
Then he realized where it came from. A shiver ran through his spine as his vision was treated to a rapid series of images. A red flag with a blue cross flashed before him and then an icy chill and a frozen land. He tried to focus on those images but they faded away, melting back into the forest party around him.
His gaze shifted around quickly. Scanning the party for anything out of place. Already knowing just what his next move would be. He recognized that flag. He needed to get there immediately. There was nothing worth staying for in Japan.
"You okay?" a quiet voice asked from his side as a warm hand slid into his own. And Harry turned down and saw something he hadn't quite ever seen before. Something worth far more than chasing stray ghosts in Norway.
"What?" the words came out before he realized it.
"You doing alright? You looked a little dazed," Priya Patel asked. She gazed up at him, the light from the fairies reflecting in her wide, dark eyes. He almost asked her then, too. A question that, deep down, he knew he'd ask at some point.
But that day wasn't supposed to be about him. It was supposed to be about Alexander and Fumiko Avery. So, when he spoke, he didn't ask a question.
"I'm fine," he said. "Just reflecting on the last few years."
"And how following around an old drunk somehow led to here?" Priya asked.
"Well, had to find you somehow," Harry teased.
"You know we went to the same school, right?" Priya teased.
"Well yeah, but you wouldn't give me the time of day. I had to pine away for you in silence," Harry said.
"I bet you didn't even know who I was," Priya teased.
"You wore a support Cedric Diggory badge the entirety of your sixth year," Harry said.
"Well, Cho was dating him. It seemed supportive," Priya frowned.
"And I think you only came to three DA meetings the following year," Harry said.
"I remember finding it uncomfortable that the teacher would stand behind you, adjust your from with hands on your hips, practically whisper into your ear, and then make you curse your best friends," Priya said.
"Was I that creepy?" Harry asked, alarm evident in his voice.
"You were there?" Priya asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Did you get groped too?"
"No groping," Harry said. "But yes, I was there."
"I don't recall," Priya said.
"Really? I've always been rather famous, you know," Harry said.
"Ugh don't tell me you were one of those athletes that thought they were actually important and doing the world a service by playing a sport," Priya frowned.
"You have me pegged. I was so amazing at quidditch that I was banned for life just to keep it fair for everyone else," Harry said.
"I'm impressed," Priya said, sounding anything but.
"I thought so too," Harry said. She smiled at him and rested her head against his arm for a moment.
"Want to get out of here and spend the next three days in bed?" Priya asked.
"Yes," Harry said. "But we can't leave yet. We have to at least wait until the Bride and Groom retire."
"Ugh," Priya intoned. "What if we do Witch Weekly's third best way to kill a weekend?"
"Didn't that involve Polyjuice?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Priya said.
"Gross," Harry said.
"Not according to Witch Weekly," Priya said.
"Let's dance," Harry said, shaking his head and smiling at her, thoughts of fleeing to Norway completely gone from his head as Priya slid into his arms once more. He wasn't sure what they did could really be called dancing. They stood, holding each other as music washed over them. Priya pressed her forehead into his shoulder and Harry would have bet she fell asleep on her feet.
"In all seriousness, though, was I really that creepy during the defense group meetings?" Harry asked.
"No," Priya said. "I would have gone to more, but that was far and away the NEWT I cared the least about. Although my parents still harp on me for only being Acceptable,"
"Ah," he said, letting the conversation die there. He stood with her, swaying gently with the music and enjoying the rest of their time at the party, until Alex and Fumiko took a portkey to their honeymoon destination. Harry slid his arms around Priya as the newlyweds disappeared from the party.
"Now we can go?" she yawned, peering up at him.
"After a few farewells," he said and led her over toward some of the ministry officials who'd sided with him about his school, knowing that he should at least treat them amiably. She was asleep on her feet when they arrived back home. He magicked her into pajamas and carried her to bed, joining her a few minutes later. His thoughts filled with her as he drifted off to sleep.
That was the last purely blissful weekend for a while. Once the first year at the school started everything seemed harsher. It took him a while to place it. He liked the students, he liked the other staff members, he liked teaching. He liked talking about teaching. He found his time consumed with it, trying to be the best at it as he possibly could be.
And he loved being in the classroom. He loved demonstrating things that, just months ago, the students thought were impossible. He loved their awed reverence of him. And he loved that he felt like he'd created something that would do good in the world.
Priya, on the other hand, didn't take to it at all. It had taken months for him to really realize it. At first she'd just seemed a little more distant, a little tired, he thought. He didn't put much stock in it because, if he was honest, he was a little worn out too. He'd just attributed it to actually having responsibilities and a job.
Sure, he probably put less overall time into it than he had their research. But he'd done that on his terms and it he'd never really considered it a job or a responsibility. And teaching ended up being more draining than he'd thought. Priya, he figured, must be going through the same thing.
But then she'd grow a little sullen and seemed a little annoyed when he'd go on about the students or the lesson, or a funny story from the day. She tried to hide it. But he knew her too well by that point.
In early December he'd stopped outside the door of her classroom and peered in to observe the lesson. He'd meant to interrupt, to clarify their dinner plans, and see how her morning was.
But what he saw through the small window stopped him in his tracks. Her expression gave it away. Perhaps not to the young students in the room. In fact, he'd never heard a complaint about her, but he saw it immediately. She hated what she was doing.
Suddenly a rush of things made perfect sense. She'd always been indolent in grading, prefer to work on her research instead. To the point where Harry often graded potions essays for her.
And she'd often left her lesson plans to the last minute as well. But Harry didn't have any issue with that as they were always done in time and were good lessons. But even that was starting to make sense now.
He slipped away before she saw him and walked back to his office utterly unsure of how he was going to handle the situation. Thinking about it simply made it worse for him though. Because he was the one who'd talked her into it. He was the one who'd convinced her that she should join him at the school rather than returning to the medical field. He was the one who made her miserable.
At first he hoped he was overreacting. He knew he had a tendency to read too much into things. But when the winter holiday came around, and Priya's demeanor took a complete turn back to the happy woman he was accustomed to. And he knew it was because for two weeks the specter of grading and planning was gone for the time being.
The worst part, though, was that knowing she was miserable made him feel utterly miserable. He couldn't think of any way to approach her about it. So, he took the coward's way out and didn't. He let the first semester wind down into the winter holiday, stewing on how he'd made the woman he absolutely loved utterly miserable.
And he'd almost forgotten about it while they'd decorated the house for Christmas. Priya had insisted, even if neither of them really believed in it. 'Tis the season, she argued. And Harry didn't have any way to counter that.
They'd gone rather all out, lights, wreaths, fake snow, a giant decorated tree. Priya had even built a little Victorian village on the shelves in the living room and decorated it as well. When they'd finished with their home, they'd decorated the school as well. That was more upsetting to Harry though, as she looked so happy while doing it, the happiest he could remember seeing her at his school.
He'd been distracted from that by being asked to help with planning the holiday party for students, staff, and family. It ended up being a rather fun evening. But, after, Harry was unable to sleep so he'd slipped from bed and walked into the kitchen.
He lit the tree and used that as the only light in the room as he looked through the liquor cabinet. While he and Priya had a rather impressive wine collection, the rest of their alcohol was lacking. He found a bottle of muggle Japanese whisky. He couldn't help but make a face at it, but it was still the best he could come up with so he took it out and summoned a glass. He poured about two inches into the glass before setting it down on the counter and sliding onto a stool there.
His attention shifted to the Christmas tree. There were a handful of presents underneath it. Because Priya insisted there should be. He knew a few of them were for him, and a few of them were for Priya, and there were a couple for Alex and Fumiko as well, as they'd offered to host them on Christmas morning and, again, Priya insisted.
But he liked the tree. It felt warm and nice and made everything feel so much more like home. He admired it for a few moments before taking a sip of the whisky.
It wasn't bad. The Japanese made a pretty good whisky. Better than the swill the Canadian and Americans tried to peddle. But it still wasn't like the stuff from back home. Although he'd argued with Avery as to if they could call Scotland back home. The argument had only resulted in Avery buying an assortment of alcohol to prove his point and Harry getting incredibly drunk.
He smiled at the memory and took another sip of his drink and continued to reflect on past drinking experiences. After two-drinks worth of time his absence was noticed. He heard the bedroom door open and a few moments later Priya entered the kitchen.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"No," Harry said, finishing his second glass of whisky.
"Why not?" Priya asked.
"No idea," Harry said.
"Something's bothering you," Priya said. She took another glass from a cabinet and picked up the bottle form the counter, pouring a little into each. She made a face when she drank. A face that Harry still found impossibly adorable.
"I didn't want to fight," he admitted, stupidly.
"Well, now we're going to have to," Priya said. She lifted her drink to her lips and stared at him over the rim of the glass.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked.
"Tell you what?" she asked.
"That you're miserable," Harry said.
"Excuse me?" Priya asked.
"I've seen how you look. You don't need to hide it. I know you well enough to tell," Harry said. He watched Priya's face fall as he spoke. The glass in her hand trembled until she placed it down on the bar, tears welled in her eyes.
"This is a really shitty way to break up with someone," Priya whispered, her voice breaking as she spoke, along with Harry's heart.
"What?" Harry asked, aghast.
"It's…It's…we…don't need to…" Priya started, gasping against the tears. Harry slid from his stool and had his arms around her in seconds. Which had the unfortunate effect of making her start to cry in earnest.
"Priya I don't want to break up with you," Harry said. "Not in the least."
"Then why?" Priya asked. "You've been so distant lately and it's been like you weren't all there and like you're keeping something from me."
"I've been feeling bad because you're unhappy!" Harry argued.
"I'm not unhappy!" Priya countered. "Well I am now but until a few minutes ago I wasn't!"
"I watched you teach. You looked miserable. And you never seem interested in anything related to the school. And it was me that convinced you to do that. So now you're doing something for me that I know you don't enjoy. And I really don't like that thought," Harry said.
"I don't…hate…teaching," Priya said, diplomatically.
"Priya," Harry said.
"Well I don't," Priya frowned. "It's just…"
"That you severely dislike it?" Harry finished.
"No. I just. I never really thought that's what I'd be. I mean I'm like a semester away from full certification as a healer. I should have already finished that but our research was too important. And now instead I'm teaching remedial potions to children," Priya sighed.
"That's nothing to be ashamed of," Harry said.
"I know that. But it's just I always wanted to be a healer. Ever since I was a little girl. And then when I found about what happened to Japan I dreamed of fixing it. And I mean I couldn't really do that, but," Priya took a deep breath and Harry seized the opportunity to speak.
"Yes, you could," he said.
"No. We both know that's nonsense. You did it," Priya said. "Only you could have done it. And you did it."
"That's rubbish," Harry said. "We both know I would have given up after a month if not for you. And it was your ideas, your research, your planning. You're the engineer. I'm the labor."
"It's nice of you to say that," Priya said.
"It's the truth. And don't you dare ever think otherwise," Harry said. Priya sniffled quietly for a moment before continuing.
"And I feel like I sort of gave up on my dream to settle down and teach," she admitted.
"Why did you agree then?" he asked.
"Well, at first, I thought I'd have time for both. But it just got so busy. And I couldn't balance it. And then it started to really hit me that I might never actually finish what I'd wanted for so long."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"You seemed to be having so much fun and enjoying it so much I thought maybe that would happen to me eventually. And I didn't want to lose you over something stupid," Priya said.
"That's never going to happen, Priya. You are never going to lose me," Harry responded.
"I just always feel like…I don't deserve to be a part of your story," Priya said. Harry shifted away from her purely to take her chin in his hand and kiss her.
"You're the best part of my story," he said. "But I think it's time we finish yours."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I think you should finish that certification and finish the research and become a famous researcher and healer," Harry said.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. And it was her turn to kiss him.
"What do we do now?" she asked as their lips parted.
"Make-up sex?" Harry asked.
"Were we fighting?" Priya frowned.
"If I say yes will we have make-up sex?" Harry asked. Priya giggled.
"I'm kind of exhausted," Priya said. "Can we just cuddle and worry about that in the morning?"
"Of course," he said as they walked back to the bedroom. They both fell asleep almost immediately, feeling far more content than they could remember in the last month.
Priya did not return to work after the Christmas holiday. Instead, she resumed her Healer education at a Japanese institution. It ended up taking the rest of the spring semester and part of the summer for her to meet the criteria.
Harry found it a little odd at first. He'd leave before her every morning. And often arrive home to her making dinner while studying. She'd ask him about his day and he'd blab on until he though she couldn't possibly be interested in the drama of his school. And then he'd ask about hers and she'd blab on until she was convinced he didn't care about the drama of her school.
He felt oddly jealous of the people who stole her time from him during the day. But he knew how absurd of a thought that was. He helped her study when she could. And by the middle of summer she'd finished her last requirements. After passing the Japanese certification test she returned for a weekend to take the British test. When she rejoined him in Nagasaki she dressed, almost giddily, in the green robes of a healer.
All that was left was for her to spend a year as an apprentice in a hospital before she could call herself Doctor or Healer Patel. Her grandmother pulled some strings and put her into the Magical hospital in Osaka. She'd started flooing to work around the same time that he left to walk to the school.
Their routine continued except now he resumed cooking duties as she was often home later than him and exhausted. She spent every waking moment either reviewing patient records or working on her research.
And then it happened. After countless hours of working she finally finished her papers. Harry reviewed them but found he couldn't offer much in the way of constructive advice. So instead they sent them off to Healer Patel and Healer Singh for review. They'd both traveled to Nagasaki shortly after reading them to offer Priya their suggestions in person.
Harry took Healer Singh on a tour of the city while Priya and Farha caught up. The man was well into his eighties by then but still spry and sharp. Harry turned his gaze away as the man who he'd first encountered in Emily's diary teared up while he cast a simple spell in Nagasaki. He'd hugged Harry shortly after, thanking him. And it took all of Harry's will to not ask if he remembered the British girl that tried to help him heal locals all those years ago.
The healers spent a week with them before they all agreed it was time. And then, less than three days later, On Magic and Muggle Radiation pt. 1 by Priya Patel and Harry Potter appeared in The Compendium of Magical Medical Research. Excerpts of it wound up in just about every major newspaper in the magical world. A month later the whole thing was published.
Priya became an immediate hit. Most people wanted to talk to Harry about the work. But he deflected them to Priya and insisted it was almost entirely her work. They seemed skeptical about that, but accepted it as Priya answered all of their questions. Some of the fervor died down when they realized that Harry wouldn't be accepting interviews or anything of the nature.
The ones who approached her through the correct channels; however, found out that Harry was quite personable and a gracious host while they interviewed Priya, as if he took more pride in her success than anything associated with himself.
She found herself being invited to talks and conferences left and right. Most of which she happily attended if they didn't conflict too hard with her hospital schedule. Although no one said it, Harry thought the hospital was rather proud to have her on staff and gave her rather a lot of leeway.
It did mean that she spent a lot of time away from Harry. He went to a few of the talks with her. But his duties often kept him in Nagasaki. The time spent away from her, however, did firm his resolve about one thing he'd questioned.
When spring rolled around she joined him, Alex and Fumiko for a nice weekend stroll through the blooming cherry blossoms. It was a beautiful walk on a cool day. Fumiko had invited the two of them along, seemingly on a whim, and Priya had bought the ruse hook-line-and sinker.
He spent most of the walk hand-in-hand with her. But toward the end he let her trickle ahead of him, faking dropping down to tie a shoe as she stepped forward. When she turned around to see what was taking him too long, he was on one knee holding a small velvet box up toward her. Her eyes went wide and immediately started fanning herself with her hands as she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet.
"Priya Patel," he said as calmly as he could, taking a deep breath after her name. "I love you more than anything else on this planet. Every moment I spend separated from you I can think of little else but being back in your arms. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, helping you with any whim you can think of. Priya Patel, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"
"Yes yes yes yes yes!" Priya yelled as she rushed to him, pulling him to his feet to hug and kiss him. There was a small cheer from Fumiko and Alex and a great deal of kissing and hugging and a little crying from Harry and Priya before things settled down.
"Here," Harry said, holding up the ring box after a few moments of celebration. She plucked the box from his hand and admired the ring. He'd gone overboard with a three stone pave and round setting with diamonds along the band. The stones glimmered in the sunlight as Priya stared at them in awe.
"Do the honors," she said, shoving the box back to him.
"Gladly," he said. And he took the ring from the box and slid it onto her hand. She sized it with her wand quickly before holding her hand out and admiring it.
"It's gorgeous," she said quietly. They both admired it for a moment before their hands entwined, their fingers working around each other's as he leaned down to kiss her. He couldn't help but marvel at the feel of the cold metal against his hand, awed at what that represented, and what that would mean for the rest of his life.
"I agree," he whispered, looking into her eyes with a large smile on his face as life, he thought, finally felt like life should.