A/N: Hello people and thank you so much for your support! Here's an unexpected part 3... and there's two more to come!

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Life with Freja had begun to feel normal, or near enough. Hedwig was, in a way, gone, but the more he thought about it, Hedwig wasn't the true her. The real her was a woman he'd finally come to know, the one that'd been locked away in the form of some creature and was now eternally grateful to him. That wasn't to mention she was also entirely convinced that the two were meant to be mates, going so far as to use that term interchangeably whenever she wished to garner his attention.

The term 'nest' she'd used back at the bed was another hint of that too.

Still, like all things that's happened throughout his life, Harry learned to roll with it. Freja was free, and with little and less of her memories in-tact as to who she previously was aside from the simple facts she'd already mentioned. Thus, she was his to care for, and he would, in perpetuity if need be.

"Mate!" Freja called when she finished washing, the Veela-like woman emerging from the loo with a towel around her person, but not one around her hair; she had to be one of the only witches that didn't do so. "Do we leave soon?"

"We do," Harry agreed with a nod. "Half an hour. Hermione's quite interested in helping us, helping you, I mean — she wants to see if she can help you recollect everything."

Freja made a noise of contemplation as she drew closer to him, the little droplets of water running down her person distracting him something fierce. "She was always kind to us."

"She was," Harry agreed, swallowing. He reached for her clothes, near as they were to him by the foot of the bed, but his hands missed… and missed a second time thereafter. It was only on the third attempt that he managed to grab them up and hold them out to her.

She didn't quite seem to get what his intentions were, however, for the moment he began to hold them aloft, she dropped her towel and moved closer, arms in the air and above her head.

Harry couldn't contain the snicker as he pulled the shirt over her, those whitish locks of hair spilling forth until he was greeted by those familiar eyes of hers. He was about to make mention of something, but he quite forgot what by the time she reached out and placed a kiss on his lips as soon as her head was fully through.

Just like that, he swore he found himself enthralled by the beautiful creature that stood before him. There was nothing he could do to pull himself away from her once her lips had captured his, and so, nearly forty-five minutes later when the two arrived at Hermione's and Ron's, he could only offer a sheepish excuse.

Freja, meanwhile, was all but glowing; her beauty truly knew no bounds.

Harry and Freja had spent not an hour at Hermione's before the typically knowledgeable woman gave up. At least in regards to how those potions had worked together to return her to her natural form. As far as Hermione could tell, there was no reason everything that worked, should have done so at all — still, from what she could tell with the many spells she used over Freja, that she was healthy. A bit underweight, perhaps, but healthy. That was what mattered most to Harry, and so with a small vial of blood taken from her, the pair had left almost as quickly as they'd come.

That led them back to their home, and more specifically, back to the nest. It was her desire they do so and rest together, even if the day had only just begun. He imagined the tests had stressed her out. That and the fact that she'd have to grow accustomed to life in her human form. He couldn't imagine how difficult it'd been for her.

Whatever she needed, he'd get it for her.

"Harry."

He turned his head to her as she said his name, her eyes peering up at him from under the covers; the nest she'd made was layer after layer of blanket, and she was at the centre of it all. It was adorable, especially with her hair spilling all about.

"What is it?" he said after a few seconds of staring at her. It was something he could never grow tired of.

She edged closer to him, moving like a serpent under the layer of blankets she'd created. When she was finally by his side, her arms encircled his waist under the covers as she settled in his lap. There was a little happy trill made thereafter, and Harry would be lying if he wasn't tempted to go back to bed for the day.

But they couldn't do that again, no, he had plans for her. They'd go and get food somewhere. It'd been years at the very least since she'd dined-in someplace, and so Harry'd all but decided already on what he'd do.

Freja slithered further up, her lips pecking at the corner of his own… and so Harry thought then, what was another five or ten minutes?

Nearly an hour later, Harry and Freja found themselves before the Floo, the latter dressed in clothes she'd picked herself from a magazine — Harry hadn't minded the premium to have it arrive at his home by way of a house-elf courier system. Now, seeing her in a blueish dress, even without charms or cosmetics that other witches used, he could confidently say she was the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

"Mate," Freja wined as she poked at his ribs with both hands incessantly, a pout on her face that couldn't so much as detract a hint of her beauty. "Stay in the nest. Please?"

Harry couldn't help the grin that came to his face, her pout as adorable as she'd been in their 'nest'. "We'll come back to it later, I promise," he assured her as he hefted her in his arms. Light as she was, it proved no trouble to him. "I've got someplace I'd like to take you first. Then, we'll do whatever you'd like. How's that sound?"

Freja pouted at him, her bottom lip sticking out at him and wobbling… but she eventually nodded with her arms still wrapped around his waist. It didn't seem like she'd be letting go anytime soon either, and so Harry reckoned he'd have to change his plan just a smidge. Thus, he did as she'd been doing and wrapped his arms around her, and then he offered up a warning.

"Don't let go."

After a scant few seconds given so that she'd hear and understand what he said, he apparated them — the Floo wasn't quite as safe for her, and she'd certainly not be talked into loosening her hold of him. No, Freja was quite content to be joined to him at the hip; all her meals were still taken whilst perched atop his lap, after all.

With a grin on his face and her hold around his person tightening, her hands balling up his shirt as they were, he apparated them. He made it quick, or as quick as he could, and so in the span of a second when next they were aware, the couple found themselves right where Harry had desired. In a private room on the second floor of the most expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley.

He'd be sparing no expenses for her. This was something that should be memorable.

"We haven't been here before."

Those were the first words which she spoke. Her head having turned to take in the details of the new space they found themselves in. Curiosity was prevalent on her face, as was the affection she felt for him when she turned back not more than a few seconds after looking at the flickering of flames from the fireplace. Silent as she was, she was clearly waiting for him to do something.

And so he did. He led her over to the sole table in the room. It overlooked Diagon Alley with a huge, magnificent and curved window that showed the entirety of the street from high above the ground. As for the window, it was enchanted so as to prevent others from looking up at them, allowing the happy couple their privacy and the beauty of the cleaned-up, rejuvenated alleyway.

With the fireplace flickering as well as the candles, and the last vestiges of sunlight peering in at them, it felt like the first time he'd finally rested. Truly, when was the last time he'd gone out without so much as a worry on his mind, and with a beautiful witch to boot?

"Here," he said, his voice scratchy as he moved to take out a chair for her, suddenly remembering his manners and the moment which he was in.

Freja pouted up at him just as she'd done before they'd taken their leave from home. This time, he'd not change her mind. Instead, he allowed her to manoeuvre his larger self into the chair, whereupon doing so, she did as she always had thus far; she plopped into his lap and sat atop him with a smile that'd make Veela jealous. When she lowered her head into the crook of his neck and further wrapped her arms around him, little, content noises emanating from her, Harry couldn't help but smile just as wide as she'd done. It was strange, really. He couldn't remember the time he'd smiled as much as he'd been recently.

Their moment, unfortunately, found itself cut short as a person knocked on their door. Harry kept Freja in his lap, he'd not so much as think about moving her, but he did reposition her. She was sitting upright, still in his lap but without her hair covering much of his face or her lips pecking without pause wheresoever she'd like on his face. Suffice to say it was a touch more proper, though he reckoned the Prophet would still make a scandal out of the whole affair.

They were nothing if not good at their job of ruining other peoples times and livelihoods.

"Mister Potter, Miss…" the person that'd been knocking asked as they grew nearer the table, a quill and notepad following after the man. "Might I offer wine and bread as you peruse the menu?"

"That'd be grand," Harry said with a nod as his arm tightened around Freja's waist. "And this is—"

"Missus Potter. Harry's mate," Freja cut him off, introducing herself by offering up a hand after those words.

Harry wasn't embarrassed by her words any, but he did find it incredibly hard not to burst out laughing. Freja's words were certainly quite direct, and the handshake even whilst she sat in his lap with her hair a touch wilder than when they'd arrived… how couldn't he find it simultaneously adorable and amusing?

As for the waiter, the man took her offered hand and shook it, nodding as he looked between the young couple. "It's a pleasure to meet you both, Mister and Missus Potter. I do hope you find your time here enjoyable, and should you need anything in my absence, please ring the bell in the centre."

"Wicked, thank you," Harry said, the man dipping his head respectfully to the pair before he turned and walked back whence he'd come; the wine and bread floated in a second before he closed the door.

With the man gone again and their privacy restored, Harry pulled Freja back against him. "Missus Potter, is it?" he asked.

Freja turned as best she could, her lips right at the bottom of his left ear. "Mate," she practically trilled.

Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead as the bread, hot to the touch, sliced itself behind her. "I suppose we'll have to make that official sometime soon, won't we?"

Freja seemed more than pleased at the prospect of doing just that, those incessant kisses peppering his face proof enough of that.

As he'd suspected, the date had gone swimmingly. Freja had stayed perched atop his lap throughout the entire meal, something he imagined was a bit strange for the staff of the restaurant — not that they'd said or showed as much — all the way up until they took dessert atop the balcony. The air inside had gotten a touch stuffy, and there was nothing quite like the outdoors, even if all one could see were buildings and a brick path.

Harry was roused from the food-induced coma he'd begun to fall into by a hand, incessant and prodding. When his eyes opened, he saw Freja standing by the couch with a glass of water in her hand and an expression of worry written on her face.

He smiled at her, goofy as it probably looked since he'd just woken up from a little impromptu nap; and little it had to be, they'd only just gotten back twenty minutes ago or thereabout.

"Morning," he said in jest.

Freja furrowed her brow even as she pressed the glass of water into his grasp. "Are you tired? Are you well?" she rested the back of her hand, gentle and so very soft, against his forehead. He all but leaned into the cool, gentle touch.

"A touch tired, but I've never been better," he answered after a second's time. "Join me for a laydown?"

"Nest?"

He rolled his eyes. "If that's what you'd like."

And Merlin, was it. Her arms encircled his body as soon as he stood up. The glass of water was left forgotten on the little stand beside the couch right then too. Freja's desire to be close all but ensured that when she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around the back of his neck, there remained not an inch between them. Harry reckoned not even magic would serve to separate her with how tight her grip around his person felt.

It certainly made what next he'd do very easy though. That being to apparate them to her favourite space, their 'nest'. It was as they'd left it, or rather, mostly as they'd left it. There seemed another blanket or two that he hadn't remembered being present therein, but he was too food-tired to care. Gently, he bent down to his knees and tapped Freja to let her know she was safe to let go.

She didn't. It seemed she was more than content to stay holding onto him even if they'd reached their little nest, and so with a degree of difficulty, Harry began to lay down himself. As soon as his back hit the soft, fluffy mattress and bed of blankets, he sighed. Freja's grip loosened under his body as he did so, but she didn't shift otherwise. Once he was fully laid down in the bed, she simply stayed atop him with her face buried in the crook of his neck whilst her hands wove through his hair. Her touch was delicate and soothing, and in less than a minute, he found it hard to keep his eyes open.

At least until Freja spoke.

"Do we need to see Hermione again?" Those words came of her slowly and softly, and with her lips moving against his neck as they left her. It was ticklish, but it also roused the beast every bloke had.

Harry's arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer, but he restrained himself from initiating anything else. Not with her question still lingering in the air, and not while she sounded nervous.

"We should," he admitted. "She's the only person I trust to tell us what's happened and if there'll be any lasting effects."

"Lasting effects?" Freja parroted, blinking up at him after she extracted her face from his neck. Her eyes peered into his, trepidation and anxiety plain to see, but they weren't alone. That love he'd seen since first she returned was present even now, despite the undercurrent just below it.

"If you'll have any issues in a month, a year, longer, sooner. I can't be certain. The potions weren't dangerous, I know that, but we don't know how they mix sometimes, yeah?" He sat up, pulling her into his lap and foregoing laying down. Harry suddenly felt far more awake, mayhaps on account of the serious quality their conversation had taken. "I'd rather make sure you're alright — make sure you'll stay like this forever. I'm fond of you."

Freja seemed to understand then, the answering smile on her face wide and toothy, complete with little dimples forming on her cheeks. "We'll go," she said quickly, the words only barely able to be heard on account of the quickness which they were said, and then she did as she loved to do.

She showered Harry with affection, her lips, slight and pink-hued leaving not an ounce of his neck or face untouched.

When she finally calmed back down, happy little noises emanating from the back of her throat, he kissed her forehead as his right hand rubbed her back seemingly of its own volition. "Freja?"

Those eyes of hers peered up at him, lidded and with errant hairs partly concealing that beautiful visage; the flush of her cheeks, when he noticed, made him swallow.

"Would you like it if we searched for your family?" It wasn't a question he reckoned she'd be expecting, but it was one that he had to ask even if he didn't wish to let her go. It'd already been half a month, a bit less, maybe, and their routine had been staying cooped up in the house until he'd gotten Hermione to answer him. "You wouldn't have to go back if you wouldn't want to — we could have them brought here, or have a missive sent. Whatever you'd like. I want you to be ha—"

"We search," Freja interrupted, but then her arms tightened around him almost painfully, her tone growing covetous as she kept herself pressed flush against him. "But I stay. Mate. Remember?"

"You're sure?"

"I stay here, with you," those words were firm and final. "But I want to see my family. Where they are, how they are — and the witch who turned me."

He knew he shouldn't encourage her to go and get revenge on that latter woman, but he'd been nodding along with her words, and he'd continued doing so when she was mentioned. Freja's family had the right to know what had happened to her and where she currently was now that she was restored, and in that same breath, the woman that'd scorned her deserved justice. He'd see that given to her.

"We'll get started in the morning."

Freja's answering smile was just as beautiful as the previous one.

Harry leaned back in his chair with his hand clutching his forehead. It'd been three days since he'd proposed finding Freja's family, her homeland, everything, and they were no closer now than they'd been then. Of course, she didn't seem to mind all that much — there was nary a memory of that time in her mind.

From what she'd said, the bulk of her memories are from her time as his companion, as Hedwig, and the few others she recollects are the likes of her name, how her home appeared, the looks of family even if the names were forgotten. It made him quite sad, in truth, but driven. Very driven. With Hermione working alongside him and a few friends doing much the same, he knew he'd find Freja's home and family.

It was just time that impeded them. Whether it took another day, another hour even, or years, they'd see her restored in mind and body alike… and speaking of that, he reckoned it was just about time to go down and check on Freja and Hermione. He'd left the pair alone together to go over more intimate parts of her biology, parts Hermione assured him he needn't be present for despite even Freja's own remarks.

Harry winced when he remembered Hermione's expression at the mention of 'mate' and 'nest' respectively. She'd looked murderous until the answering explanation was given. Freja had taken his side right quick too, going so far as to poke Hermione incessantly in the ribs until her attention was diverted and a conversation was had between the two witches.

He raised his wand to his throat now that he was further along and the recent memory, finished. "Freja, 'Mione," he called out, his voice reverberating through the home. "You two finished down there?"

After a few seconds of silence, Hermione's voice, just as loud as his had been, answered. "We're finished. You can come down and hear the results alongside her."

Harry did just that, racing down the stairs, hopping from the last few to the ground below and turning on a dime, until he was in the parlour room with the two witches. Freja, naturally, sought him out as soon as he arrived, her arms encircling his person quickly with that trill sounding as had become the norm.

He couldn't be certain if there was some sort of allure, or if it were her natural beauty alone, but Harry wound his arms just as tightly around the beautiful creature before him.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair, but he saw a small smile on her face as she looked the pair over. She almost seemed happy for him. "Go on, sit," she said with a wave of her hand at the couch nearest to them as she slid into the seat opposite it.

With little effort, Harry hefted Freja's smaller form up and thereafter, made his way over to the couch she'd motioned to. He sat down, Freja settled atop him, and the pair turned to look at Hermione… after Freja stole a kiss from him, their heads almost butting against one another.

It made the pair snicker.

Hermione coughed, mostly silencing the pair as she gave them the results they'd been waiting for. "There's nothing wrong with her," the words were simple, and straight to the point. "I checked every potion present during the 'accident', I spoke with Neville about their ingredients, I spoke with Luna in-case she had an opinion that wasn't nor— of the norm, and I even went over Freja's blood with them. So far as we can tell, she'll stay like this. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong or anatomically incorrect either. Everything's where it should be and functioning quite well. Even her teeth. I've never seen a whiter set. My mum and dad… no, nevermind that, I digress. Suffice to say, Harry, she's perfectly fine so far as we can tell, but we're not professionals."

Harry shrugged. "You're as good as."

That made Hermione sputter, her cheeks flushing, and then she huffed and folded her arms. "You do that on purpose."

"Do what on purpose?"

Hermione's narrow-eyed gaze in return to his cheek was all he could take before he broke out in a fit of laughter.

Some few minutes later, with the attitude decidedly more relaxed, the three moved to the kitchen. Hermione would stay and join them for dinner whilst Ron was with the rest of his family at home; after the war, Missus Weasley insisted all of her children visit whenever they returned from a trip the very same day.

He'd have to go and check in on her soon.

"Harry?"

He blinked. "Mione?" he asked back at her. "I missed something, didn't I?"

When Hermione remained silent, he turned to look at Freja to ask what it'd been… but she was no longer in the chair beside his own. That was odd. He turned and looked at the other space beside his own, but again, she wasn't present.

This time, he looked back at Hermione, and he was just about to ask her where Freja had gone when a weight plopped down from above, and into his lap.

He could've sworn Freja hadn't had wings before.