Chapter Text
“Oh no, all those books.” Hermione rubbed her face hard with one hand. “What a waste.”
In Harry’s arms, the unicorn stirred, raising its head to look over at Neville with the first spark of interest Harry had seen yet. Harry cautiously allowed the small unicorn to lean over and nudge Neville’s shoulder with its nose, all the while keeping a close eye on its teeth. The unicorn made a hopeful sound.
Neville turned around with a gentle expression, “Well, hello, little fellow.” The unicorn whinnied softly and strained towards him.
“Here,” Harry quickly passed the unicorn over to Neville. He forgot about Neville’s hurt arm until it was too late, but Neville didn’t seem too bothered by the unicorn’s weight. Perhaps all those healing herbs he’d been tossing around had done him a bit of good.
The little beast immediately snuggled up against Neville’s chest with a sweet sigh, no sign of teeth at all. “I guess he likes you better,” Harry said, trying not to feel too disgruntled as the wounds on his neck and arm throbbed. It was like the fawning of the MLEP all over again.
Hermione was using a summoning spell to find everyone’s lost wands. On her first try, she got Bass’s and Matute’s wands to snap into her hand.
“Hey!” Bass called, reminding everyone that he was still stuck up in a tree with Matute. “That’s mine! Can someone either get us down or give it back to me?”
“I’ve got it,” Draco said, taking the two wands and trotting over to the tree.
Hermione cast the wand summoning spell a second and third time, but both times it fizzled. Her affinity for Harry’s wand just wasn’t strong enough.
“I can do it,” Harry offered, holding out his hand.
“No, you can’t,” she said curtly. Harry pulled back his fingers, stung.
Growling under her breath, Hermione pushed up her sleeves and cast the spell a third time, her pronunciation and wand movements crisp and textbook perfect. This time, both Neville and Baxter’s wands zipped out of the destroyed cottage and skidded to a stop at her feet. They were covered in suspicious yellow and black stains. Wrinkling her nose, Hermione cleansed the wands with several charms, wiped them off on the wet grass, and finally gave them a thorough scrubbing with the edge of her borrowed cloak. Harry was going to have to seriously clean that thing when this was all over and done.
“Here Neville, catch,” she called, tossing him his wand. Neville reached for it and almost dropped the baby unicorn, fumbling for a moment before getting a good grip on them both. Despite the jostling, the unicorn stayed calm, not even threatening to bite Neville.
Harry didn’t want Neville to get bitten, but he did find it just a little unfair.
As Hermione made to turn away with Baxter’s wand held loosely in her other hand, Harry impatiently asked, “Can I have my wand back now? You don’t need two.”
Hermione just looked at him, blank-faced.
“Please,” Harry added, realizing that he’d sounded rude. “Sorry, I’m just tired. We all are. Can I please have my wand back?”
Over Hermione’s shoulder, Harry saw the others returning. They’d revived Matute, who staggered between Bass and Draco holding one hand to his head and clutching his wand to his chest like a teddy bear. Guilt bit at Harry again. Matute might not have gotten injured at all if Harry hadn’t screwed up. He was trying his best, but sometimes even his best wasn’t good enough. Thank Merlin none of them had gotten hurt worse.
The corners of her mouth pinching, Hermione passed Harry’s wand over. “Just remember that you shouldn’t be using your magic unless you want another accident.”
“I know,” Harry snapped defensively. “The disarming spell was a big mistake. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, just reacting and trying to keep you alive.”
“I didn’t say anything about that,” Hermione answered tightly, not looking at him straight on as she wrung a stream of water out of the hem of her robes. “But you need to remember that when your magic flares out of your core uncontrolled, it doesn’t only mess up your spells or accidentally hurt people, it also damages your core even more. Who knows how fragile it is right now? If your magical core breaks completely, it could kill you! If you’re really lucky, it’ll just make you a squib with permanent brain damage.”
On seeing Harry in the middle of a dressing down, the rest of the Aurors veered away. Matute sent Harry a mocking salute over his shoulder and then stumbled sideways into Draco. Meeting Harry’s eyes, Draco tsked with a shake of his head and left him to his fate. Bass just frowned and gestured the rest of the Aurors over to the destroyed cottage. Harry flushed and crossed his arms.
Either not noticing or not caring, Hermione put her hands on her hips. “I just want you to be more careful, Harry! You take foolish risks with yourself, unnecessary risks.”
“I know I need to be careful,” Harry said through gritted teeth, returning his focus to Hermione, “but I’m not the only one taking foolish risks. You need to be more careful too. What were you thinking, running into the cottage like that? There was poisonous mold crawling across the floor and a desperate man waving around a knife. You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Just thinking about it made his blood boil all over again.
The wind rushed through the bushes and trees, showering them with pellets of icy water and making them both shiver. Hermione pulled the borrowed cloak closer around her body even as she leaned forward and sent him a ferocious glower. “At least I had a wand and a plan! You’re the idiot who climbed into a damaged house with nothing but luck and your pathological need to save people, even at the cost of yourself!”
With a snapping of twigs, two figures pushed through the bushes across the clearing. Harry expected to see DLME reinforcements. Instead, he saw reporter Betty Braithwaite and her photographer, Colin Creevy.
Just great.
“Merlin’s beard, it’s the press,” Bass growled, stomping forward to intercept them from getting any closer to the destroyed cottage.
The interruption taken care of, Harry returned to more important things, like yelling at his girlfriend. “How is that different from what you did? At least I have training and went through a war. You’re a researcher with a fast draw, Hermione! What if you’d been hurt?” The wind fluttered across Harry’s wet clothing, raising goosebumps on his skin.
“I could say the same for you!” Hermione pointed. “Just because you’re trained doesn’t mean you can’t get injured. You’re bleeding right now! I was scared for you and our friends and you needed help. I’m not going to run away in a situation like that, not when I can do something about it. I found the wand, decided on a plan, and executed it. And it worked!”
“But what if it hadn’t?” Harry wanted to rip his hair out. His imagination was too good when it came to imagining worst case scenarios.
“I’m not helpless, Harry! You know that. It’s one of those traits you find attractive in me, along with my competence and fortitude, my intelligence and independence.” Hermione poked him in the chest with every virtue she listed, emphasizing their importance.
However, the touch served another purpose, popping the bubble of Harry’s ire and refocusing him on the breathing woman standing in front of him. Brow furrowing, Harry reached out and moved a clump of sodden hair away from Hermione’s pale, freckled cheek. He loved those freckles. “All of that is true, along with your honor and kindness and beauty, but you scared me too, okay? Seeing you in that doorway took twenty years off my life. You’ve been in altogether too much danger lately.”
Cupping the side of her face, he rubbed his thumb down the stubborn and beautiful line of her jaw, stopping his thumb beneath the perfect bow of her lower lip. Voice aching, Harry said, “I just want you safe.”
Hermione’s eyes went soft and her lips parted, brushing against his thumb as she spoke. “I want you safe too, but—” abruptly she stopped with a shocked look on her face. Her eyes went unfocused.
Harry dropped his hand and went into battle mode. Thoughts going razor-sharp, he drew his wand and spun around, scanning for danger but not finding anything obvious. Even the reporters were distracted talking to Neville. “Hermione? What is it? I don’t see.” He crowded her back between his body and a tall bush.
“Harry, your fingers are cold.”
Harry stopped moving and blinked, not comprehending. “So?”
A blinding grin lit Hermione’s features. She grabbed Harry’s shoulders and shook him excitedly. “Harry, there’s no heat! You’re angry and we’re arguing and there’s no heat! It’s cold!”
Jaw dropping, Harry looked down at the still wet fabric of his robes. Water dripped from his shaggy hair and down the side of his neck. “It is cold,” he whispered, meeting Hermione’s eyes with cautious hope. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a flare of anger not accompanied by a physical expression of heat. It had been years, since before the final battle with Voldemort. “How?”
Laughing with joy, Hermione danced away from the bush and over to Draco, who’d hurried over at seeing Harry’s reaction. Hermione grabbed Draco’s arm and tugged. “Malfoy, look! Harry’s not leaking magic anymore!”
“What?” Draco looked back and forth between them in disbelief.
Harry felt a delicate bubble of hope. “We fought and it stayed cold,” he said softly, afraid to say it too loud and have it disappear. He was so mentally exhausted that this could just as easily all be a dream or delusion.
Understanding dawned on Draco’s face. “Your magical core’s fixed?” Fast as a viper, his hand shot out and slapped the bite mark on Harry’s arm.
Pain shot up Harry’s arm like lightning. “Son of a—” Harry threw a punch at Draco’s face, but Draco was prepared and danced back out of reach. “What did you do that for?” Harry snarled.
Ducking behind Hermione, Draco put his hands on her shoulders with a possessive air and looked Harry straight in the eye. “Just so you know, Hermione likes to kiss me. With tongue. The constant fighting is a front to hide all the snogging from you.”
Vision going white around the edges, Harry barely noticed Hermione’s outraged expression and the elbow shooting back into Draco’s gut as she jerked away. Lunging forward with a roar, Harry grabbed a fistful of Draco’s silvery blond hair and dragged him down into the mud.
Time passed in a blur until Harry finally pinned Draco, elbow wrapped tightly around Draco’s throat and legs pinning the other man into immobility. Face bright red, hair brown from all the mud, Draco frantically slapped Harry’s arms. “Pax! Pax!” he wheezed.
“Harry, stop! It was a lie!” Hermione cried, yanking at his arm. “He can’t breathe! Harry, it was a lie!”
Finally comprehending the words, Harry abruptly relaxed his arms, letting Draco go. Draco flopped over and raggedly regained his breath. He weakly slapped at Harry with the back of his hand. “You violent wanker,” he gasped.
Harry felt rather breathless himself as he turned to Hermione. “It was a lie?”
“Yes!” Hermione looked ready to tear out her hair. “Harry, I love you! Malfoy and I can barely even speak a civil word to each other and if in some bizarro universe that ever changed, I’d tell you instead of cheating. Of course it’s a lie!” She waved her hands in the air.
Grabbing Hermione’s hand on the downward swing, Harry rose to his feet and wrapped her in his arms. He glared down at Draco, whose skin was still red and blotchy where he sat leaning against a tree. “I’m not going to say sorry. Why would you even say that?”
Draco rubbed his throat and used the tree trunk to pull himself to his feet. “I was testing to see if the air would get hot. You didn’t seem that angry when I came over, so I thought it might be a fluke.”
“And?” Harry barked, trying to simmer down.
Huffing, Draco shrugged and smiled crookedly. “You completely lost your temper and it stayed cold. At least I think it did. I was a little distracted getting strangled to death, but I think you are cured.”
Squeezing Harry’s waist, Hermione laughed. “It did! We’ll have to get a professional evaluation, but I think you really are cured.”
“But how?” Harry asked with bewilderment, barely daring to hope despite their repetition on the concept.
Draco and Hermione looked at each other and started talking, hypothesizing and delving into a discussion of the magical theory that quickly zipped right over Harry’s head. “Wait—wait, I’m lost. Can you say it more simply for the idiots in the room?”
“We’re not in a room, we’re outside,” Draco said snidely. “Proving your point.”
Eyes narrowing, Harry looked over at Hermione. “You sure you didn’t do anything with him?”
“The only thing we do together is fight,” Hermione huffed with annoyance, “now focus! I know you aren’t that dumb, no matter what you pretend for other people.” She flicked his nose. “Focus!” Rubbing his face, Harry gave her his full attention.
Hermione sent him a nod and explained. “So there’s no way to know for sure, but we think your cure was a combination of exposure to the potion’s fungal spores, breathing in the herbal healing mist, and then being covered in unicorn hair and—well—bodily fluids,” she gestured down his body, “magical saliva, snot, tears, blood, and urine, all freshly delivered through the breaks in your skin directly into your bloodstream and at their most magically potent. Plus this all happened when you didn’t have your wand, an object that naturally gathers and focuses magic in and around wizards instead of letting it pop and fizz all over the place. Those forces all combined synergistically in a probably unrepeatable way to seal up the cracks in your magical core.”
She exchanged a quick look with Draco and then added, “There might be unexpected side effects down the road, but for now, if it works as we hope, your fractured magical core should be fixed. I think the addition of the baby unicorn’s bodily fluids directly into your bloodstream is what really pushed the cure through, so make sure to thank him when you get a chance.”
Harry grimaced, a little grossed out. “Sure.”
“At least the unicorn didn’t poop on you too,” Draco said with faux solicitousness before breaking into laughter.
Hermione joined in with giggles, the traitor.
Leaning back to smile up at Harry, she cajoled, “C’mon, Harry, snap out of the grumps. You’re cured! Be happy. We are.”
Blowing out a long breath, Harry let go of the jaggedly sharp ball that had lodged in his chest with Draco’s lies and pushed away his cynical thoughts about the side effects of happy accidents. Instead, he let Hermione’s words fill his head. He allowed himself to believe.
“I’m cured,” he said out loud, allowing hope and relief to wash away the negativity. “I’m cured.” For a moment he felt lightheaded as the everpresent, ominous weight of his problem fell away. He felt like he could soar through the sky even without a broom.
Taking out his wand, he took a step back and cast a drying charm at Hermione, something he hadn’t done in so long he almost stumbled over the words. The spell zipped from his wand without a hitch, blowing a cone of hot air that dried her clothes and hair in seconds. A smile of delight curved his mouth. The jiggly gelatin feeling of his core shifting was gone. Maybe his magic really was his to command again. Harry rubbed his thumb up and down the shaft of his wand with joy and gratitude.
A group of broom riders appeared on the road leading up to the property. The Irish Aurors had finally shown up. Harry looked at the destroyed cottage in the center of the clearing. Bass would probably be happy to pass the cleanup off. The area needed to be purified again, just in case. Baxter’s body also needed to be retrieved and processed for burial. Harry was glad he wasn’t the one who’d have to deliver the news of Baxter’s death to the colorful woman in the bedroom photograph. Something told him that it would make her very sad, even if no one else mourned Baxter’s passing.
Shaking off his gloomy thoughts, Harry curled his arm back around Hermione’s waist and started walking. “Let’s go talk to Bass and then we can all go home.”
After only a few steps, he glanced over his shoulder. “C’mon, Draco. Just because you’re too dirty to look pretty doesn’t mean you can hide over here away from the hard work and reporters.”
Rolling his eyes to hide his relief at Harry’s implicit forgiveness, Draco joined them, doing his best to tidy his ruffled appearance. “Haha. If I finally lose my top spot in Witch Weekly’s Ministry Hottie Poll to Sirius because of this, I’m going to blame you, Harry.”
At their approach, Bass first gestured at Harry to shove off and then at Draco to hurry it up.
“Oh right, I’m still suspended.” Harry frowned and kicked a broken board out of his way.
“But probably not for too much longer,” Draco said. “If earnest heroism and your history of defeating Voldemort doesn’t work, there’s always the Black family approach. Sirius’s grandfather Arcturus Black was able to buy an Order of Merlin, after all. Getting reinstated at work is small potatoes compared to that.” Slapping Harry’s back, Draco jogged over to join the rest of the Aurors.
Harry scowled after him.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said compassionately. “There’s no use in worrying about that yet, though. It’s a good day. We won. Let’s focus on that.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, shaking off his melancholy. “You’re right.” He had too much to be thankful for right now to spend his time brooding, things like the gorgeous girl on his arm.
The promise Harry had made to himself in the cottage bedroom jumped to the forefront of his mind. He’d put this off for too long, but there was no time like the present to change that. No more hesitation.
Turning to face Hermione, he took both of her hands and pressed them against his chest. “You know that I adore you, right?”
Hermione’s cheeks went pink. “I adore you too, Harry.” She smiled into his eyes.
“Good.” Sucking in a deep breath, Harry reminded himself to be brave. “There were several times this week when I thought I’d lost you, but when I climbed up into that cottage, I feared that I’d be the one leaving you behind this time. I know I’ve been a coward when it comes to talking about feelings and our future, that I’ve hurt you with my silences. I’m sorry. I want to change. I want to be better.”
Hermione’s smile had disappeared, but not the open love in her eyes. “I appreciate that. I’m sorry that I hurt you too. I have no intention of giving up on us.” She looked down at their hands with a self-deprecating twist of her lips. “I’m here for as long as you want me, Harry. You don’t have to worry. We’re good.”
“But that’s just it, Hermione,” Harry said, dropping her hands to allow himself to fidget. “I haven’t been as good to you as you deserve and I really haven’t been honest about my long-term intentions.”
Hermione’s face became stricken.
“No! Whatever put that look on your face, stop thinking it!” Harry’s fingers fumbled into his waistcoat pocket. “It’s good, not bad, at least I hope you’ll feel that way. I’m trying to tell you about this.”
Thrusting out his hand, he opened his fingers to reveal the engagement ring resting on his palm. He’d chosen a ring for Hermione from his ancestral vault. It had a violet-hued amethyst resting in the center of a delicate scrollwork platform studded with small pink and white diamonds. The rose gold band was also intricately carved. “Hermione, I’ve been in love with you since our very first week together. Each day it grows stronger and deeper. I’ve been carrying around this ring in my pocket ever since with the intention of asking you to marry me.”
Eyes going wide, Hermione asked weakly, “Since the very first week?”
Harry nodded. “When I first asked you out, there was a lot of truth in my babble, but I think I came on too strong. I couldn’t stop myself from picking out your ring, but I could stop myself from making you uncomfortable with my demands when you were just starting to heal from years of being cursed.”
Nerves going crazy, Harry fought to keep his hand from trembling. “Over time it became like a good luck charm. Every morning I slip the ring into my pocket. Even Draco and Bill know about it.”
Harry fought not to drop his eyes. “It’s time you knew about it too. Hermione, I want to marry you. You’re everything I’ve always wanted in a wife and partner. Thoughts of you fill my dreams. I want to go to sleep to the sound of your breathing and wake up sharing warmth under the same covers. I want to laugh with you and argue with you and make up with you for the rest of our lives. I want to share a home with you. We’ll have tons of bookshelves and a Quidditch pitch out back and raise children and grow old and one day far in the future be buried side by side in a quaint little graveyard that blooms with violets in the spring.”
Sucking in a breath, Harry kept to his promise to honestly bare his heart. It was hard. She was kind, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t hurt him by accident if he made himself completely vulnerable. “Hermione, I want everything with you, but I’ve been too afraid to say anything, afraid of scaring you away, afraid of getting you hurt,” he looked down, “and afraid of being hurt... but I’m tired of being afraid and alone. I’m tired of staying silent and making us both hostages to my fears. I want you. There never has and never will be a day when I don’t want you. So please, marry me, Hermione. Marry me and I will do my best to make you happy and tell you every day how much I love and adore you.”
“Oh, Harry, I had no idea you were carrying this around the whole time.” Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes. Reaching out, she picked up the ring from his palm. “I—”
At that most pivotal of moments, Harry’s potion stopped working. He only got a split second of realization, but the force of his temper would’ve set the whole forest on fire if his core had still been fractured. Eyes rolling back, Harry passed out.
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When Harry woke up, he immediately jerked upright.
“Merlin’s pants!” Sirius gasped as a tray went flying up into the air, spilling tea and biscuits all over the bedroom kept for Harry at Sirius’s house. “Give a guy some warning next time.” Sirius pressed a hand to his chest.
“Where’s Hermione? What did she say?” Harry demanded, throwing back the covers and swinging his legs out. He swiped up his wand from the bedside table and stood with only a small wobble.
“She’s just downstairs but—”
Harry didn’t wait to hear whatever else Sirius had to say, charging from the room to find Hermione as soon as possible. He didn’t care that he was only in his pajamas or that his hair was probably sticking up on one side of his head. He had to know what she’d been about to say.
Thundering down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, Harry burst into the downstairs drawing room. Hoshimi and Draco were inside, but Harry only had eyes for Hermione. Everyone stopped talking and stared at his abrupt entrance.
“Hi,” he said breathlessly, realizing suddenly that if Hermione’s answer to his proposal was actually no, he probably should’ve waited to at least put on robes. It was too late now. “Sorry about collapsing on you. I just woke up. Hi.”
Hermione bit her lip. “How are you feeling? You went down pretty hard.”
“I’m fine,” Harry said quickly. He shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. His bare feet were cold on the floor and goosebumps were breaking out on his arms. He wasn’t used to being cold anymore. Was she wearing his ring or not? Her hand was by her side, so he couldn’t see. He’d felt a lot more confident of a positive answer when he’d been risking his life inside that cottage. Right now he wasn’t so sure. What if the extra time to think had made her decide he was too much trouble?
“And you?” he asked abruptly, realizing he’d let the silence go on too long.
“I’m feeling a lot better after a good night’s sleep, thanks.” Eyes dropping to his chest, Hermione’s cheeks turned pink, her long eyelashes hiding her expression.
Was that appreciation for his manly physique? Or embarrassment at having to turn down his proposal in front of their friends? What if a full night’s sleep really had reminded her of all the things he’d done wrong and she decided to gently but firmly break up with him? Harry’s lungs seized painfully in his chest.
Draco made a strangled noise. “Oh for Merlin’s sake, Granger, put the poor man out of his misery and tell him what he wants to know.”
Behind Harry in the doorway, Sirius muffled a laugh.
You’d think he’d have a little more sympathy for his only child’s imminent demise, Harry thought. If Hermione didn’t say something soon, Harry really was going to die. The room began to sway and darken around the edges.
Hermione stood up, marched over to Harry, and grabbed his cheeks firmly in both hands. It all happened so fast that he hadn’t managed to catch a good glimpse, but the quick flash of her ring finger had looked like only bare skin. Hopefully, he was wrong.
What if he wasn’t wrong?
“Harry, breathe,” Hermione ordered firmly.
Blowing out an explosive breath that ruffled Hermione’s curls, Harry sucked air back into his starving lungs. He forced himself to breathe regularly. The room steadied and brightened. If he died now, it would be because of embarrassment. “I’m breathing,” he said meekly.
Cheeks dimpling, Hermione leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his mouth. Before Harry could relax into it, she pulled away and dropped her hands. At such a close distance he could see the myriad shades of brown and gold in her eyes, like a broom in flight through autumn leaves at sunrise.
“To finish what I was about to say before you passed out yesterday,” Hermione said, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “yes, Harry, I will marry you. I would be honored to be your wife and partner in both life and death. Yes.”
Hermione’s acceptance of not just his proposal but of both sides of his magical nature floored him. “You really are perfect,” Harry whispered. Unexpected tears sprang to his eyes even as a huge grin split his face.
Wrapping his arms around his future wife, Harry met her lips in a kiss of celebration. They were both smiling widely, making their kisses sloppy and off-centered, but neither cared, dropping kisses on each other’s lips, cheeks, and chins. Each kiss communicated love and happiness, sturdy hope and fierce promises of eternal devotion.
Before they could get too carried away, the applause, cheers, and whistles from the witnesses recalled them to their surroundings. Pulling back, lips clinging until the last possible moment, they smiled joyfully into each other’s eyes. It was perfect.
Hermione cleared her throat and shifted back slightly. “I wanted to wait until you woke up to wear the ring for the first time. Will you put it on me?” She reached into her pocket and pulled it out.
“I love you so much,” Harry said, taking the ring and slipping it onto her finger. The band magically shifted size as it moved down her fourth finger until it fit perfectly.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance the night we met and for sharing your Violet Mint Morphos.” He pressed a kiss to the ring on her hand and then her knuckles, turning her hand over to kiss her palm and then her wrist. He loved her so much, he wanted to kiss her everywhere. He had so many fun plans for after they were married. Sending her a devilish grin, he said, “Even though I didn’t appreciate it at first when you surprised me with that potion, I’m really glad you’re so daring. Plus, it gave me the chance to see you up close and get that first kiss. After that, I was completely hooked. You had my heart before I even knew what was happening.”
“There’ve been times you drive me crazy, but thank you for breaking my curse and always believing in me, even when the evidence seemed so damning.” Tucking a loose curl behind one ear, Hermione confessed shyly, “I felt drawn to you from the first moment I saw you, but I fell in love with you slower, step by nerve-wracking and glorious step.” Giving a little laugh, Hermione added, “Though I did end up saying ‘I love you’ first.”
Harry laughed too. “At least I proposed first! But we both got there in the end and that’s what matters.” They kissed again. His future wife really was a championship kisser, Harry thought blissfully.
Ending the kiss, they found themselves forced to separate for hugs and congratulations from Sirius, Hoshimi, and even Draco, who seemed surprisingly sincere.
“You’re not going to give me any guff for this?” Harry asked him privately while Hermione was distracted with Hoshimi and Sirius.
Draco hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “There’s no accounting for taste, but she makes you light up, brighter than I’ve ever seen you be with anyone else. My problems with her don’t matter much when compared to that.”
“Thanks,” Harry said earnestly. “You’re a good man, Draco, one of my best mates.”
Inclining his head, Draco smiled crookedly. “I will say this, she’s a good woman, Harry, someone who’d go to hell and back for you. Actually, from a certain point of view, she’s someone who has . Sure, she’s irritating as all get-out and a bossy know-it-all, but,” he sighed and glanced across the room at Hermione with an unusually soft look in his eye, “she’s also someone I admire and respect.”
Cutting his eyes back at Harry, Draco cleared his throat. “But don’t tell her I said that. I might use it someday during an argument to make her feel bad for being so rude to me.”
Harry snorted. “I don’t think that’s going to work considering how rude you usually are first.”
Smirking unrepentantly, Draco shrugged. “You leave us to figure that out, Harry. Just focus on being happy. After everything that’s happened, you deserve that.” Clapping Harry on the back, Draco steered him over to the rest of the group.
“This really calls for a celebration,” Sirius said, throwing his arm over Harry’s shoulders. “As soon as this pup gets dressed, we should go out to eat.”
“What about The Rabbit Eats? Since we shared our first meal together there,” Hermione said, leaning against Harry’s other side. Sirius moved his arm to include her in the hug.
“The salad was good, but the footsie and flirting were better,” Harry said, grinning into her eyes.
“I can call ahead and make us a reservation,” Hoshimi said, running her hand down Sirius’s arm lovingly before walking over to the fireplace Floo. She turned at a knock on the window and went to grab the owl post first.
Draco crossed his arms. “I’m really starting to feel like a fifth wheel around here.”
“Aren’t you with that little blond anymore?” Sirius asked. “The one your mother doesn’t like?”
“No, she didn’t last long,” Draco sighed. “Mother didn’t like her.”
An amusing thought struck Harry. “Now you’re the only one left for Narcissa to focus on. No more foisting her off on Sirius or me. All of those colored file folders full of eligible ladies will be just for you. I’m sure she’s been keeping the best ones a secret so Sirius and I didn’t steal them away. I’ll probably get called to a private tea to talk about your prospects within the week.” He grinned wickedly at Draco’s cringe.
Sirius laughed. “Who knows? Maybe one of the Greengrass sisters will get divorced and give you a second chance.”
Scowling, Draco put his hands on his hips. “Well no matter what happens, I can rest easy knowing that at least the witches of Britain find me much more attractive than you, Cousin Sirius. Over the next ten years, I’m just entering my prime, while you’re on the downhill slide, getting older and uglier by the minute.”
“Ha!” Sirius stepped closer to Draco so he could look down his nose and silently remind Draco who was taller. Draco straightened his spine to unsuccessfully try and compensate. Sirius smirked. “Now that I don’t have to worry about the constant pranks ruining my appearance, I think you’ll find me once more firmly at the top of the Ministry Hottie Poll . Don’t be an ugly loser, Cousin Draco.”
“Ahem,” Hoshimi said, the corners of her mouth quivering with amusement. She fed the post owl a treat. “If I may have your attention, please. I think I can settle this argument very quickly as the newest edition of Witch Weekly has just arrived.”
Unfolding the magazine, she opened it to the poll page with a flourish. “I present to you Neville Longbottom, the new winner of the Ministry Hottie Poll!”
“What!?” Sirius, Draco, and Harry all exclaimed simultaneously.
Hermione and Hoshimi burst into laughter.
In honor of Neville earning the number one spot on his first time ever being listed, Witch Weekly has published a full page spread. A wonderfully flattering picture of Neville cuddling the baby unicorn was front and center, along with a scattering of other photographs of him going about his day. Quotes from different Ministry departments—including several gushing lines from his fans in the MLEP—described Neville in glowing tones.
Leaning forward to read the fine print, Hermione giggled. “They didn’t even bother posting the names of number two and three this week. I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out which of you is the first and second loser.”
“Pshaw, it was obviously beginners luck,” Sirius waved, obviously bothered and trying not to show it. “I’m sure I’ll be back on top next week.”
“I’d be surprised if they even mentioned you. You’ve probably aged out,” Draco grumbled, pouting as he turned away from the magazine.
Sirius put his finger to his chin. “Weren’t we about to go and celebrate Harry and me getting engaged to gorgeous and intelligent women? That’s right, we were! Oh, and you were just mentioning how pitifully single you are, weren’t you, Draco?”
“All right,” Harry said on a laugh, “I’m going to go and get dressed so we can leave.” Raising Hermione’s hand to his mouth, Harry pressed it to his lips and smiled into her eyes. “I can’t wait to go out in public with my soon-to-be wife.”
Biting her lip, Hermione leaned forward and whispered, “Will you wear the blue-green waistcoat?”
Harry’s heart melted. “Of course. For you, I’ll even leave off my ugly tie.”
“Well, at least she’s good for something,” Draco said, trying for mocking but landing instead on grumpy fondness.
“I’m good at many things, Malfoy, but some of them you’ll never get to know about,” Hermione said pertly. Wrapping her hand behind Harry’s neck, she yanked his head down into a deep kiss, one using lots of tongue.
Harry liked it. A lot. Maybe it would be okay if Draco and Hermione kept on fighting if it elicited more reactions like this.
Pulling back with a smack of lips, Hermione ordered breathlessly, “Hurry back.”
Harry barely suppressed a hungry growl. He didn’t want food right now, he wanted more kisses. “With an incentive like that, I’m willing to Apparate there and back again.” Despite his words, Harry didn’t move, running his hand down her spine to the delectable curve of her lower back, pressing her harder against his body.
“Then do it before I lose my lunch watching you two suck face,” Draco interjected loudly, patently turned away to look out the window.
Taking the decision out of his hands, Hermione stepped back out of Harry’s arms. “Go on Harry.”
At least the husky quality of her voice showed that she was equally affected by the kissing. Harry felt proud. He silently promised himself to get her sounding like that again when they had both the time and privacy to get loud.
“I’ll still be here when you get back,” Hermione said.
Breathing deeply to catch one last whiff of her beguiling scent, Harry sighed gustily and took a step back. “Not just for today but for the rest of our lives,” he vowed, looking into her eyes.
“It’s a promise,” she said, flashing her engagement ring with a private smile, the ring he’d put on her finger.
Healthy, happy, and hopeful, Harry smiled with unrestrained joy. His cheeks were going to be sore by the end of the day. Blowing a kiss to his future wife, he Apparated upstairs, too eager to waste time on walking.
After casting a series of grooming charms he’d been avoiding out of fear for months, Harry quickly dressed. He saved the blue-green waistcoat for last, the one that reminded him of their future children’s eyes. Looking at the handsome and neatly groomed man in the mirror, Harry leaned towards his reflection, “She said yes!”
“Congratulations!” the mirror said stoutly. “And you’re looking better than ever, too!”
“Thanks.” Harry grinned.
Twirling away, he Apparated back downstairs, arriving in almost perfect silence, proof of his magical control. “Onward to the rest of our lives together!” Harry announced, making everyone jump in surprise.
Hermione pressed a hand to her chest and laughed. “Onward to love and yummy food!” She held out her hand to Harry and wiggled it, the one wearing the ring. Harry took it with alacrity.
“That’s a motto I can get behind,” Sirius said, uncapping the Floo powder and holding it out for everyone to take a pinch. “To love and yummy food! Let’s go and announce our happiness to the world.”
One by one they left through the hearth until only Harry remained. However, Sirius’s words made Harry think of one last thing he needed to do. As soon as the idea occurred to him, he couldn’t get it out of his head.
Closing his eyes, relying on instinct and desire, Harry stepped sideways in spirit until he reached the gossamer membrane separating the living and the dead. As Master of Death through the Deathly Hallows, Harry could travel here and speak with spirits that had passed over, spirits like his mother and father.
Pulling them over to his side would cause them pain. Passing over himself would create too much temptation to stay or start visiting regularly for longer and longer periods of time, making his responsibilities to the living fade in importance. In this beautiful and peaceful place, his parents waited with all of their departed relatives and dear friends. Swallowing hard, Harry pressed against the fragile soap bubble separating the realms but kept himself from popping through to touch his parents hovering so closely on the other side.
“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” asked his mother gently, sending him a concerned frown.
Pushing up his glasses with an anxious brow, his father stepped forward. “Harry?”
“I’m happy now,” Harry blurted, feeling unexpected tears clog his throat at the expressions on their faces. “I just wanted you two to know, I’m really happy. Hermione loves me and is going to marry me. She’s beautiful and kind and smart, everything you would’ve wanted for me.”
“Oh, Harry, that’s wonderful news!” his mother cried, clapping her hands. Her jade green eyes sparkled.
Harry laughed wetly as his parents clasped hands and beamed. “You should also know that Sirius is getting married too, to a wonderful woman named Hoshimi. We’re going to be okay. We’re happy. So you see, you don’t have to worry about us anymore.”
“Oh Sweetheart, we love you so we’re never going to stop worrying completely,” his mother said, “but thank you so much for telling us. You’ve both had more than your fair share of cruelty and loneliness.” She leaned against his father. “You deserve to be happy, Harry. You both do.” A tear coursed down her cheek, even as she smiled. “I’m so glad. You’ve grown into such a handsome young man, just like I’d hoped and dreamed when I cradled you in my arms as a baby. I’m so happy for you.”
“We’re both very proud of you,” said his father, wrapping his arm around his mother. “Now hurry back to your lady. You still have a long life to live before joining us here. When that day finally comes, we look forward to meeting your Hermione.”
Leaning forward with a gleam in her eye, his mom said, “Have kids and grandkids! I want lots of grandkids!”
“Lily!” his father exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “The boy just got engaged! Give him a few years to get married and enjoy his wife before his nights get claimed by sleepless babies needing diapers changed and rocking and feedings every two hours.”
Clouds gathering in his wife’s eyes, he quickly added, “Though it’s worth it in the end, of course!”
Turning to Harry, he sent him a firm nod. “You were definitely worth it, Harry. Seeing you now, you were worth everything that happened. No regrets.” Love beamed from his father’s eyes. “Now go on, go back to your life and focus on enjoying your happiness.”
“We love you so much, sweetheart.” His mom sent him a smile that was almost as good as a hug. “Now shoo! Your Hermione is waiting.”
“I love you too,” Harry said thickly in farewell.
Lowering his head, Harry closed his eyes and came back to his body. He was standing in front of the fireplace hearth. It was still lit green with the waiting Floo Network connection but had started to flicker yellow on the edges as the powder ran out.
Wiping his face to make sure it was dry, Harry took a deep breath and blew it out, focusing like his father had asked on his current happiness. A picture of Hermione bloomed in his mind. It made him smile.
Throwing his pinch of Floo powder into the hearth, Harry pronounced his destination and stepped through.
“Harry! What took you so long,” Hermione said, reaching out to take his hand as soon as he stepped out of the hearth.
Before Harry could decide how to answer she vanished the soot from his clothes and tugged him forward. “Nevermind, you’re here now and that’s what matters. I just missed you.” She swung their hands and sent him a happy smile. “You’re just so nice to look at.”
Harry laughed. “I love you, Hermione Granger-soon-to-be-Potter.”
Arching her brow, lips twitching, Hermione said, “That’s if I decide to change my last name and not just hyphenate or something else.”
Giggling at his expression, she went up on her toes and kissed the tip of his nose. Harry’s eyes crossed and she laughed again. “We can figure that out later, but I love you too, very very much, Harry Potter. Now, onward to love and yummy food, remember?”
Pressing a kiss to her smiling lips, Harry turned them towards the street outside and their waiting friends. Hermione’s hand felt warm in his. In fact, Harry felt warm all over, the warmth of happiness and anticipation for the future. “Indeed, to love and yummy food! A worthy quest for our first day as an engaged couple.”
Hand in hand, Harry and Hermione stepped out into the sunlight together.
THE END