Chapter 11 – The proposal

The soft hum of a saxophone filled the air as Harry led Amelia into the warm glow of a cozy restaurant in the heart of Muggle London. It was a perfect escape from their magical world—elegant but intimate, with candlelit tables and soft jazz playing in the background.

Amelia wore a deep emerald-green dress that shimmered in the low light, and Harry couldn't help but stare as he pulled out her chair. "You look stunning," he said, his voice low and sincere.

"And you look rather handsome yourself," Amelia replied, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush as she took her seat.

The evening unfolded with laughter and stories as they dined on fine food, their hands occasionally brushing across the table. Harry ordered a bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass, and they toasted to Amelia's birthday.

"To you," Harry said, his eyes locking with hers. "To another year of brilliance, beauty, and, hopefully, a little less chaos."

Amelia laughed, but her gaze softened. "And to us," she added. "For making it through all the chaos together."

As dessert was served—rich chocolate cake that they shared between lingering bites—Harry leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. "How does it feel, knowing you've only got a month of Hogwarts left?"

Amelia hesitated, swirling the last sip of wine in her glass. "Strange," she admitted. "It's been a second home for so long, and part of me doesn't want to leave. But the other part of me…" She trailed off, smiling as she looked at him. "The other part of me is excited. I feel like my life is finally beginning."

Harry nodded, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Have you decided what you'll do after? What you want?"

She exhaled, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she thought. "I have, actually. I've been considering accepting the position with the Department of Mysteries."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The Department of Mysteries? That's… unexpected. But it suits you."

"You think so?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Absolutely," Harry said with a smile. "You've always been fascinated by unraveling mysteries, by the things most people wouldn't dare to explore. I think you'd be brilliant there."

Amelia beamed at his encouragement. "I haven't made a final decision, but I like the thought of working on something that matters, something that could make a difference. I know my counterpart was a brilliant fighter and strategist, but –"

"You don't want the same scars." Amelia nodded, relieved by his easy understanding.

Harry squeezed her hand. "I understand. Whatever you choose, you'll be incredible. I'll support you every step of the way."

Amelia's heart swelled at his words, and she leaned forward, her voice soft. "Thank you, Harry. That means a lot. What will you do?"

"I'd like to keep teaching. I enjoy it a lot more than I thought I would and the twins will be starting in a few years, so someone has to be there to keep an eye on them," Harry replied with a smirk. "I will miss you though, more than you know."

The waiter returned to clear their table, and Harry stood, offering Amelia his hand. "I believe I promised you dancing," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Amelia laughed, slipping her hand into his. "You did. Lead the way."

He took her to a nearby jazz club, its dimly lit interior alive with the sound of a lively band. The small dance floor was surrounded by couples swaying in time with the music. Harry guided Amelia into the centre, pulling her close as the band began a slow, soulful tune.

"You're full of surprises tonight, Harry Blackwood," Amelia murmured, resting her head against his chest as they moved together.

"It's the first of many birthdays I hope to spend with you. I had to make it special," he replied, his voice warm in her ear as he pulled her even closer. "And I plan to make it unforgettable when we get back to the manor."

They swayed to the music, lost in each other as the world around them faded. Harry twirled her under his arm, drawing a laugh from Amelia before pulling her close again. Her emerald dress shimmered under the soft lights, and he couldn't help but think how perfectly she fit into his arms.

As the night went on, they danced to song after song, their laughter mingling with the music. Eventually, Amelia rested her forehead against his, her voice barely audible above the band. "Thank you for tonight, Harry. It's been perfect."

"Happy birthday, Amelia," he said, kissing her softly.

When they finally returned to the manor, the stars high above them, Amelia couldn't stop smiling. As they walked out of the fireplace Harry laid his hand on her jaw and lifted her face as he pressed his lips to hers. Amelia immediately melted into the kiss. They teased and caressed in unhurried delight until she slowly pulled away from him. He kissed her fingertips, then reclined back in the love seat and pulled her on top of him. Lips and tongues met once more to taste and tease as she lay against him. His hands spread over the small of her back, and one ran up her spine to the skin of her shoulders bared above her dress.

** BEGINNING OF LEMON **

Harry flipped her onto her back underneath him and nuzzled her ear. "You looked incredibly sexy this evening, Amelia. It was torture keeping my hands off you all night." Amelia couldn't help but moan as he licked under her earlobe and nipped the sensitive spot there. Harry smiled against her jaw and pressed tiny kisses down her neck as he straddled her legs.

While his lips wandered over her collar bone and down her chest, his hand stroked her shoulder and down, then he thrust his tongue between her breasts and licked her cleavage. Amelia's hands slid over his shoulders and chest, her fingers dipping under his collar. She found her way to the buttons of his shirt and began unfastening them. Pulling the shirt up his back to reach the last three buttons, she slid her hands across his chest and pushed the garment off his shoulders.

Harry groaned at the feel of her fingers on his bare chest and raised his head to kiss her again. Her tongue darted over his lips, and then she pushed herself against him and sat up.

Amelia kissed and explored his muscular chest, and he dropped his shirt over the edge of the chair. He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples through her dress with his thumbs. One hand skimmed down her side and leg until he could push under her skirt and stroke her thigh. Her legs were trapped between his pressing them together, and his fingertips slid from one thigh to the other as he moved higher.

Amelia lay back in the chair as his touch skimmed over her panties. Unfastening his slacks, she slid her hand inside to feel him hot and hard. She traced the length through his briefs and gently squeezed when he thrust into her palm. Her hips rose with an answering thrust when he pushed his fingers into her panties and found her clit.

Harry leaned over and kissed her passionately, driving his tongue between her lips as desire gave way to unbridled lust. Moans and whimpers blended together, and heat seemed to arc between them.

Amelia pulled one leg from between his and bent her knee over his back, opening herself up to him. Lifting her hips, she pushed her panties down and bunched her skirt up around her waist. He circled and stroked her clit, sliding through her moist folds and teasing her opening before finding a rhythm over her button again.

"Harry, we should…ahh…move to…the bed."

"I'm not stopping until you come."

"Oh, Merlin." She gripped the edge of the love seat and ground against his hand. Pressure built low in her belly as Harry drove her closer and closer to orgasm. He raked his teeth over her neck and nibbled her earlobe. Her body trembled and her neck arched. Nothing else mattered to her but the fire in her nerves lit by his touch. Her leg pulled Harry closer with the tightening of her muscles.

Harry increased his pressure, and her eyes snapped open as she gasped, and then they squeezed shut again. Her hands locked around the back of his neck, her hips rose toward him, and then she screamed out his name as she came hard. Twisting away from his fingers over her too-sensitive nub, she clung to him against the white flash behind her eyes and flood of wet heat between her legs. When her hips dropped back to the seat, he growled in her ear. "Now, Amelia. I want to be inside you now."

"Yes. Please!"

Harry rose up and pushed her knees back to her breasts, then rolled her to the side. "Turn over."

She worked her way around in the narrow chair until she was on her knees with her legs between his, her hands clamped over the top of the backrest. Harry pushed her dress all the way up, slid his pants and briefs down, and palmed his erection with one hand while grabbing her hip with the other. He couldn't remember ever being so hard in his life, and knew he would take her fast and hard. Positioning his engorged tip to enter her, he possessed just enough coherence to say, "Tell me if I hurt you."

"Do it, Harry. Now!"

He pushed into her half way, then pulled back and slammed home in her tight sheath. She rocked back against him and muffled a cry in the cushion.

"You okay?"

"Merlin, yes!"

He smiled and trapped her arms above her head over the seat with his. He drove into her again and again, pinning her to the loveseat with his chest against her back. Her long, auburn tresses tickled his neck and shoulder, the scent of sex was heavy in the air, and the rasp of her dress against his stomach added another layer to already-raging sensations.

Harry's grunts in her ear grew louder with each thrust. He watched her lick her lips and bite his arm beside her head. The stimulation was all he needed to push him over the edge. He buried himself in her as deeply as he could and turned his face to her neck to muffle his roar. Writhing against her back, he pumped his seed into her until nothing was left but the aftershocks through his body. Gasping for breath, he raised his head and gave one final, long thrust before pulling out of her.

** END OF LEMON **

Harry sat back on his heels and pulled her down to sit on his thighs. She rested back against him, and he slid his hands down her arms to link their fingers together. After another minute, her husky voice said, "I can't believe that we didn't even take our clothes off."

Harry chuckled and kissed her neck. "Well, we can take our clothes off now and do it again if you want."

"I like the way you think Harry," she said as she rose to her feet. She put her hand out to help him up and then practically dragged him to the bedroom.

An hour later, they lay tangled in each other, Amelia's head resting gently on Harry's chest while his fingers ran lazily through her hair. The quiet intimacy between them felt as natural as breathing, but Amelia's thoughts lingered elsewhere.

"Do you think it's weird that we don't argue?" she asked suddenly, her voice soft against the rhythmic beat of his heart.

Harry's hand stilled in her hair for a moment before resuming its soothing motion. "Not really," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," she began thoughtfully, "Sirius and Marlene seem to argue constantly. They're always bickering about something. She'll come to me crying about whatever ridiculous thing he's said or done, and I'll genuinely wonder if they're going to break up. But then, the next day, she's glowing and won't stop rattling on about makeup sex."

Harry chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "If it's the makeup sex you're worried you're missing out on, I can intentionally try to provoke you if you'd like," he teased.

Amelia propped herself up on her elbows, a playful smirk curving her lips. "That won't be necessary. There's plenty of passion in our relationship, thank you very much," she retorted with mock indignation. "It just got me thinking. We've never really had an argument. Lily says all couples fight, so..."

"You're worried that I'm avoiding conflict just to keep the peace," Harry said, his eyes twinkling with understanding, "and one day I'll explode with all these secret grievances and realise I've fallen out of love with you?"

Amelia sighed, laying her chin on his chest as she met his gaze. "Yes," she admitted quietly.

Harry smiled, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Amelia, I think there's a big difference between us and Sirius and Marlene. For one, we're more mature than they are—let's face it, even our little Eddie is more mature than Sirius most days."

Amelia laughed softly, but Harry continued, his tone becoming more serious. "And we've also got a bit of an advantage. We've done all this before—or at least I have. I know it's not quite the same for you since you only have pieces of those memories from the Pensieve, but in the other timeline, we were married for eight years. I learned how to communicate with you, how to avoid the little things that might bother you, and how to handle our disagreements."

Amelia arched an eyebrow. "I bet you were always in trouble," she teased.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not as often as you might think. Even in that timeline, we rarely argued. I think it's because we both understood that, no matter what, our hearts were always in the right place. We loved each other with grace. That's not to say we never disagreed, but we always found a way to work through things without it becoming a fight." Amelia's expression softened, but there was still a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"I think I understand."

"Were there any memories of our conversations about the Dursleys?"

"Only my retribution for how they treated you," Amelia said, her lips twitching into a small smile. "Which, by the way, was completely fitting."

Harry laughed. "I agree. But at the time, I was furious because you went behind my back to do it. I didn't talk to you for three days—that was the only fight I can remember us having. And honestly, I still regret it. I wish I'd forgiven you sooner so we could've moved on to, well, the makeup sex Marlene's been telling you about.

Amelia laughed, her cheeks pinking slightly.

"It wasn't worth staying angry about, most things aren't. That's when I realised it was better to just talk things out. And that's what we've always done, Amelia. I don't think a lack of friction in our relationship is a bad thing. But, like I said, if you want some drama to spice things up, I can absolutely provoke you."

Amelia shook her head, her smile warm as she leaned down to kiss him. "I think we're just fine the way we are."

"Would you like your gift now?" Harry asked softly, his green eyes warm as he played with a strand of Amelia's hair.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Harry," she said, her voice full of affection. "You've already done so much for me."

Harry smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Of course I did. It's your birthday, and you deserve the world."

He gently untangled himself from her and crossed the room to his wardrobe. Reaching up, he pulled down a small, neatly wrapped package. As he walked back to her, his expression was filled with excitement, like a boy giving his first-ever gift.

"Happy Birthday," he said, holding it out to her. "Although I think I'm officially a day late now."

Amelia chuckled, her cheeks flushing with warmth. "It's still the thought that counts." She kissed him softly before taking the package, her hands trembling slightly.

As she carefully unwrapped it, her breath caught, and she gasped. Inside was an exquisite sapphire necklace, the deep blue gem catching the light in mesmerising swirls.

"It's gorgeous," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

"Almost as gorgeous as you," Harry murmured, leaning in to capture her lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Her heart fluttered, and when they broke apart, he took the necklace from the box. "Here," he said, his tone low and intimate. "Let me put it on you."

Amelia turned, her hair tumbling to one side as he gently brushed it over her shoulder. She felt his lips press against the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands worked deftly, clasping the necklace in place before his fingertips lingered, brushing her skin lightly.

Harry stepped back to admire her, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "I know the tradition is to dress up for the Leaving Feast," he said softly, his voice rich with admiration. "I hoped it would complement whatever you chose to wear."

She turned to face him, her fingers brushing over the sapphire. "It's perfect. Thank you, Harry. For everything."

His hand came up to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin. "Nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy," he said, his voice full of sincerity.

Amelia leaned into his touch, a radiant smile on her lips. "You're truly one of a kind, Harry."

"And you're everything I never knew I needed," he replied, pulling her close for another kiss.

O – o – o – o

The last week of June came with the warm glow of summer, and as the sun set over Hogwarts, Harry and Amelia made their way to McGonagall's quarters for dinner. This had become a monthly tradition, a time to relax, laugh, and share stories.

McGonagall greeted them at the door with her characteristic stern smile, but her eyes softened as they landed on the two of them and the children trailing behind.

"You're late," she teased. "The children must have kept you."

"How'd you know?" Amelia admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Entirely understandable," McGonagall said warmly. "Come in, come in."

The dinner was a lively affair. The children, full of energy, chatted animatedly with McGonagall, who listened with a patient and indulgent expression. Harry and Amelia shared amused glances throughout the meal, their hands occasionally brushing under the table.

When dessert was finished and the children began to yawn, Harry cleared his throat and turned to Amelia. "Love, would you mind putting the kids to bed tonight? I'd like to speak with Minerva about something."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "What are you up to, Harry?"

"Nothing nefarious, I promise." He grinned, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'll explain later."

She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. But you're on bedtime duty tomorrow."

"Deal."

As Amelia left with the children, McGonagall turned to Harry, her curiosity piqued. "Well, Lord Blackwood, what's this about?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful, elegant ring.

"I want to propose to Amelia," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

McGonagall's lips parted in surprise, and her eyes welled with tears. "Harry..." she whispered, her tone soft with affection. "This is wonderful."

"I want it to be special," Harry continued. "Something she'll never forget. I was thinking of doing it at the Leaving Feast, in front of everyone. She deserves to know how much she means to me and how much I believe in us."

McGonagall dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, her stern demeanour cracking under the weight of her joy. "You have my full support. What can I do to help?"

Harry relaxed, relief washing over him. "I was hoping you could help me with the logistics. Maybe work it into the end-of-term speech? I don't want to take away from the students, but..."

"'I'll speak with Dumbledore. I think we can weave it in seamlessly," McGonagall assured him, her mind already buzzing with ideas. "We'll make it perfect. I'll coordinate with the house-elves to ensure the decorations are just right. And—" her lips twitched into a rare smile— "you'll need to practice what you're going to say. Amelia deserves your best effort."

Harry chuckled nervously. "I've been thinking about it for weeks, but saying it in front of the entire school is... a bit terrifying."

McGonagall patted his hand reassuringly. "If you can face Voldemort, you can certainly manage this. Besides, there's no doubt in my mind she'll say yes."

Harry's expression softened. "I hope so. She's... she's my everything, Minerva. She and the kids—they're my future."

McGonagall nodded, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "Then let's make this a moment neither of you will ever forget."

By the time Amelia returned, Harry and McGonagall were seated with glasses of wine, their expressions casual but slightly conspiratorial.

"What did I miss?" Amelia asked, narrowing her eyes at them.

"Nothing at all," McGonagall said smoothly. "Just a bit of professor talk."

O – o – o - o

The Great Hall was alive with energy as the students gathered for the Leaving Feast. The long tables were decorated with banners of all four houses, their vibrant colours illuminated by floating candles. The chatter of excited students filled the air as they celebrated the end of another year.

Amelia sat at the Hufflepuff table with her friends, glancing at Harry occasionally as he interacted with the other professors. He looked calm and collected, but she could sense a tension in him that he was trying to hide. She knew something was up, but he'd been tight-lipped since his mysterious conversation with McGonagall a few nights ago.

The feast began with the usual speeches—Dumbledore's words of wisdom, McGonagall's praise for the graduating students, and a few moments of heartfelt applause for those who had gone above and beyond during the year. Amelia was about to relax into the comfortable routine of it all when Dumbledore's voice broke through her thoughts.

"And now," the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "I believe Professor Blackwood has something he would like to share with us. Professor?"

Amelia froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, as Harry stood and walked to the centre of the dais. He looked out over the sea of students, his usually stoic expression replaced by something softer, warmer.

"Good evening, everyone," Harry began, his voice steady. "I won't keep you long—I know you're all eager to finish celebrating—but I have something important to say. Or rather, to ask."

He turned to face Amelia, his emerald eyes locking onto hers. Her breath caught as she realised what was happening.

"Amelia," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "these past several months with you have been the happiest of my life. You've brought love, light, and hope into a world that so often feels dark. You've been my partner, my confidante, and the most incredible mother to my children."

The hall had gone completely silent. Every student, professor, and ghost was watching with wide eyes and bated breath.

Harry stepped forward, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. He sank to one knee, and a collective gasp rippled through the room.

"Amelia, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

A collective gasp rippled through the room, followed by a hush so profound it was as if the castle itself was holding its breath.

Amelia's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at Harry, the love and sincerity in his expression making her knees feel weak. For a moment, she was speechless, overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the moment.

"Yes," she finally managed, her voice trembling but strong. "Yes, Harry, I'll marry you."

The silence broke into an eruption of cheers and applause. Students whistled and clapped, professors raised their goblets in a toast, and even the ghosts floated closer to witness the scene. The house banners above them swayed gently as if joining in the celebration and then shifted to match the Blackwood crest.

Harry slipped the ring onto her finger—a delicate but dazzling piece that glimmered in the candlelight—and then stood, pulling her into his arms. Their kiss was soft and sweet, but the room roared in approval, cheering them on like it was a Quidditch final.

When they finally broke apart, Amelia laughed through her tears, gazing up at him with shining eyes. "You planned this, didn't you? Is this why you wanted me to wear my necklace?"

Harry grinned, his smile bright and boyish. "Guilty. Minerva helped."

From the staff table, McGonagall raised her goblet, her eyes misty but her expression proud. "Congratulations, you two," she said warmly. "You've more than earned this happiness."

For the rest of the feast, the celebration continued, filled with heartfelt congratulations, toasts, and endless laughter. Students and professors alike stopped by the Hufflepuff table to wish them well, and Amelia couldn't remember ever feeling so loved.

As the evening wound down and the students began to file out of the hall, Harry and Amelia lingered, standing together under the enchanted ceiling. She tilted her head back, gazing at the twinkling stars that mirrored her own sense of wonder.

"You made this the most unforgettable night of my life," Amelia said softly, her voice filled with emotion.

Harry kissed her forehead, his hand gently squeezing hers. "It's only the beginning, love. Our real adventure starts now."

Before she could reply, Marlene suddenly appeared in the doorway, clearing her throat loudly.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Amelia, you're coming with us," Marlene said with a mischievous grin.

Amelia turned, eyebrows raised. "Oh, but I'd rather stay with—"

"Don't care," Marlene cut her off, marching into the hall and grabbing Amelia's hand. "You two can celebrate all summer. This is our only chance to have you to ourselves before you're officially his forever."

Amelia gave Harry an apologetic smile as she was pulled away. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," he replied, watching her with a smile as she was dragged off, her laughter echoing through the hall.

Marlene practically dragged Amelia through the common room door, grinning like a madwoman. The moment they stepped inside, the room erupted in cheers and applause. Hufflepuffs of all years filled the space, along with her closest friends from other houses, their faces bright with excitement. Butterbeers floated magically across the room, and tables overflowed with desserts carefully prepared by the house-elves.

"Amelia!" Lily was the first to rush over, practically tackling her in a hug. "Let me see the ring!"

Before Amelia could even respond, her hand was grabbed and lifted for everyone to see.

"It's gorgeous!" Lily exclaimed, her emerald eyes wide with awe.

"Absolutely stunning," Marlene added, leaning closer to inspect the ring. She smirked at Amelia. "Did he pick it himself? Because if so, our dear Professor Blackwood has impeccable taste."

Amelia laughed, her cheeks flushed. "He said it was from the Blackwood vault. He wanted something elegant, and well…" She wiggled her fingers, letting the diamond catch the light. "He succeeded."

"Elegant is an understatement," Mary chimed in, folding her arms with mock indignation. "You're engaged to the Hector Blackwood. He's a Lord, he's gorgeous, and he adores you. Do you even realise how unfair this is for the rest of us?"

"Come on, Mary," Marlene teased, grabbing a butterbeer from a passing tray. "You're just bitter because no one else gets to have 'Professor' Blackwood now.'"

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't stare at him too!" Mary shot back with a smirk.

Amelia shook her head, laughing. "You know what the best part is? He seems to have no idea how popular he is."

"Lucky you," Mary sighed dramatically, collapsing onto one of the couches. "I swear, Amelia, if you weren't so nice, I might actually hate you."

"You'll meet someone," Amelia said gently, sitting beside her. "Someone who makes you feel the way Harry makes me feel."

"Yeah, but where do I even find someone like that? He can't just apparate into my life!" Mary groaned, and the room broke into laughter.

The teasing continued as everyone took turns congratulating Amelia, sharing toasts and anecdotes about her and Harry. Minerva even stopped by briefly, giving Amelia a rare but heartfelt smile before retreating back to her quarters.

Later in the night, when most of the students had either gone to bed or grown too tired to continue celebrating, Amelia found herself sitting on the couch with Lily and Marlene. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room.

"Are you nervous?" Marlene asked suddenly, resting her head against the back of the couch.

Amelia looked down at the ring on her finger, her lips curling into a soft smile. "Not at all," she said, her voice quiet but sure. "I just feel… right. Like this is how it was always meant to be."

"You're not worried about anything?" Lily asked, tilting her head curiously. "Being Lady Blackwood sounds like a lot of pressure."

Amelia shook her head. "Harry doesn't make it feel like pressure. He's… he's just Harry. I know he'd take care of me and the kids no matter what. It's not about titles or responsibilities—it's just us. That's all I care about."

Marlene grinned. "You're disgustingly happy, you know that?"

"I am," Amelia admitted with a laugh. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything."

The three of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the crackle of the fire.

Lily sighed dreamily. "Of course he proposed in the Great Hall. Trust Harry to turn a leaving feast into something out of a fairy tale."

"And he got Minerva to help," Amelia added, smiling fondly.

Marlene raised her butterbeer. "To Minerva McGonagall—the real MVP of this engagement."

The three of them laughed, clinking their bottles together before falling into more lighthearted conversation about the future.

Eventually, the others trickled off to bed, leaving Amelia alone in the quiet dormitory. She climbed into bed and settled under the covers, the room still and peaceful around her. Looking down at the ring on her finger, she felt her heart swell with happiness.

'Someday soon,' she thought, a content smile spreading across her face, 'I'll never have to wake up alone again.'