III

Surprisingly, or not surprisingly, that some day arrived much sooner than either of them expected. And, instead of Harry doing the asking, Hermione did. It had been a long day at the Australian Ministry for both of them and, when they got home, all they wanted to do was eat, drink wine and relax. Harry wasn't a fan of all the studying but he was determined to pass his final-year exams, if only to make Hermione happy.

Their proposed evening did not occur.

They'd made it home, taken one look at each other, and then made love on their living room floor. As with nearly other room in their apartment, there were blankets enough to create their infamous bed on the floor. Hermione was the one to bring up their future-forever, claiming that she wanted a lifetime of days like these.

"I would give you the world, if I could," Harry told her, his tone serious as his breath floated over her bare shoulder.

"I think that you could do me one better, Potter."

"How so?" he asked curiously.

"Marry me, Harry?"

He blinked once. "Why?"

She frowned. "Why what?"

"Why are you asking me now? Right this very moment?"

Hermione gave it a moment of thought. She wasn't deflated by the fact that he hadn't responded in the affirmative immediately. They were already as good as married, really, that getting engaged was merely a formality in light of the outside world. "I want what you want," she told him. "I wasn't ready before, but I'm ready now. I'd even concede to a million Potter babies."

"Oh, I see," he said, his fingers running down the side of her body. "You just want to be Mrs Hermione Potter, don't you?"

"Then we'll have the same initials."

Harry grinned at her sudden blush. "How long have you spent thinking about that? And tell the truth."

"Not long," she lied.

"I imagine it's been a substantial amount of time," he said, blatantly referring to his 'I imagine' that he knew she hated.

"Harry," she warned.

He just laughed as he rolled onto her, pinning her down with the weight of his body. "Yes, Hermione, a thousand times yes," he whispered, their breaths mingling. "I will marry you. I imagine somebody has to."

She gasped, her hands immediately trying to push him away.

"I love you," he said, staying put. "And I would go and fetch the ring from my study but I'm a little too comfortable where I am right now." He gave her a chaste kiss. "Though, seeing as you are the one who proposed, shouldn't you be getting me a ring?"

"Would you really wear an engagement ring?" she asked pointedly, her breath slightly jagged.

"If the diamond was a good size, yes," he said, laughing. "I mean, how can you go around proposing without a ring, Hermione. That's just bad form."

"I love you," she said. "I'll get you a ring if you want one."

"I want you to wear my ring," he informed her. "I want to be able to look at your hand and know that I put it there. And I would definitely go and get it right now but I could think of a few other things I would rather be doing."

"We're engaged, Harry," she said, still sounding breathless.

"We are."

Hermione's mother was the first one to hear the news. Harry was making them dinner while Hermione relayed the events of the evening to her mother over the phone - even mentioning the impromptu sex, which made Harry blush. Hermione made sure to tell her mother not to mention that part to her father when Jane told him.

It was only later, after they'd celebrated a few more times, that Hermione felt an odd sense of melancholy settle in. Of course, Harry, knowing her the way that he did, noticed almost immediately. It was clear that her excitement over the ring had died down, though she kept glancing down at her left hand.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sitting up against the front of the couch and giving her his full attention.

Hermione also sat up, her eyes settling on him. "You asked my parents for their blessing to ask me to marry you, right?"

Harry nodded. "Ages ago though," he pointed out.

"I guess, well, I'm just thinking that I didn't get the chance to do the same... with your parents," she said, dropping her gaze. "What if they didn't approve of me?"

"Hermione," he said, sounding amused. "My parents not approve of you? That'd be the day."

"I'm trying to be serious here," she said, lifting a blanket up and covering her face. "I worry about these things, okay?"

Harry made a move to drop the blanket so he could see her face. "Hermione," he said seriously; "My parents would love you. I just know it."

"You can't know that," she countered. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you can't."

"Okay, maybe I can't know for sure," he conceded. "But this is what I do know. I'm made up of pieces of both of them, and I love you, which must count for something, right?"

Hermione didn't appear convinced, even if she found his reasoning adorable.

"And I know for a fact that Sirius loved you," Harry said. "I imagine that he's spent weeks telling my parents that he knew, all along, that the two of us would end up together. Remus loved you as well. I'm convinced that he saw so much of my mother in you. They were as much my family as my parents, and you know they approved of you, so just know that my parents would trust in their opinions, and in my choices."

Hermione took a deep breath. "What about the Weasleys?"

Harry's features hardened. "What about them?"

"For a while, they were your family, Harry. What would they think of all of this? Would they approve?"

Harry didn't quantify her questions with responses. "Do you love me?"

"Most of the time," she responded, smiling slightly.

"Do you want to marry me?"

"I think the fact that I just asked you to marry me kind of answers that one, doesn't it, Mr Potter?"

"You're too damn smart for your own good," he muttered, suddenly lunging for her and pinning her down with his own body weight. "Are you getting smart with me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione responded by kissing him. Suddenly, she couldn't wait for the rest of their lives to occur. Even as she lay there, she couldn't mistake the feeling that this was what happiness felt like. And it never ceased to amaze her that she'd managed to find it with Harry Potter, in Australia of all places.

Unlike other times in their lives, their happiness lasted longer than either of them anticipated. It was a good, easy life, as they continued with their private studying. Hermione spent time with her mother, trying and somewhat failing to plan a wedding. It didn't help that neither bride nor groom could settle on a suitable date or location.

If they were being entirely honest with themselves - and they weren't - they would have to agree that getting married in Australia just didn't feel right. Despite what they convinced themselves, home would always be in England. Despite what it had done to Harry, it was still the place of his parents, and not even Hermione could change that.

The thing was that they weren't in any rush. They had their entire lives to get married, have kids and grow old. It was simpler to focus on their schoolwork, which they did.

Of course, Hermione passed everything with flying colours. And, thanks to his wonderful fiancee, Harry Potter was able to register a pretty good academic haul for himself.

Which just left them with more questions. What now?

Harry decided that some time off would do him well, and Hermione was actively considering going to Muggle University. They vowed not to make any hasty decisions, which proved to be a great idea, because the letters arrived several days after Harry's nineteenth birthday.

The celebration, itself, was a small affair, just Harry, Hermione, her parents, a few people from the Australian Ministry and Harry and Hermione's neighbours. It was a dinner held in their apartment and Harry found that Hermione had a little too much fun playing hostess.

Harry hadn't expected the letters, but he couldn't honestly say that he was surprised. Because he wasn't. His birthday was widely known and, thus, remembered.

"Harry," Hermione said grimly, the soft pads of her socked-up feet the only indication that she had entered his study.

He read her tone of voice for what it was and stood up from his desk, deftly moving around the large slab of mahogany he called a desk. "What?"

She held up the envelopes she'd just received. "It's a letter from Ginny."

Harry swallowed. "For you?"

She shook her head no.

"For me?"

Hermione handed him the letter. "Ron sent one to me."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. The truth was that he hadn't thought about the Weasleys in quite some time, not since they'd formalised their engagement.

After he and Hermione had written their N.E.W.T.s, Harry had all but forgotten about England and its inhabitants. He wrote only to Andromeda to hear about how she and Teddy were getting along. And to Hagrid. Harry knew that Hermione kept in touch with Professor McGonagall and sometimes Luna, but that was it. He doubted that she told them all that much; just that they were safe and happy.

Because Harry was happy, and he had a feeling that these letters were going to ruin it.

"I'm not sure if I want to read it," Hermione admitted. "It's been more than a year since we've seen or even spoken to either of them. Why now?"

Harry didn't have any answers for her. "Do you think they know that we're together?"

"How could they?"

"I mean, I find it a little odd that Ron didn't send me a letter as well, don't you?"

Hermione pondered that for a moment. "If they believe we're together; they probably don't know that we're together together."

He grinned at her. "Oh, Hermione, I don't know to what you are referring."

Hermione set the letter she was holding aside and moved towards him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she gave him a chaste kiss. "I love you, Harry Potter, and I honestly cannot wait to marry you."

"I'm sensing a but," he said, sighing.

"Maybe we should tell them," she said, unable to look him in the eye. "I mean, there's no timeframe on grieving, right? Maybe this is their way of letting us know that they're ready and they're sorry."

"I wouldn't count on receiving an apology, Hermione," he said flatly.

"Maybe," she agreed; "but they were a big part of our lives for a very long time. And, can you honestly say that you'd want to get married without the Weasleys?"

He sighed, his arms closing around her waist. "They do know how to throw a party, don't they?"

Hermione kissed him again. "That they do."

Harry leaned his forehead against hers. "Do you think they'll be okay with this, with us?"

"What would happen if they weren't?" she felt she had to ask.

"Oh, then we'd definitely have to call the whole thing off," he said, smiling at her.

"I hate you," she muttered, faking annoyance.

"You love me," he whispered breathily, making Hermione close her eyes. "You love me, and I love you. It's all that matters to me, okay? We've survived so long without them. I'm happy, right here, with only you, so it doesn't really matter what they think."

"It doesn't?"

"Hermione, it doesn't," he repeated. She had to know and, if she needed him to; he would tell her every single day. "Nothing in those letters is going to change anything for us, okay?"

Harry lied.

The second they opened and read those letters changed something, though neither of them were quite sure what. They'd stayed in Harry's study to read them, sitting side by side on the couch.

"Ginny says thank you for allowing her the time to grieve," Harry explained to Hermione.

"Ron says that he knows that too many things were left unsaid, and that he misses me," Hermione said back.

"She says she's ready to try again."

Hermione blinked. "Try what again?"

"Us. A relationship."

Despite Harry's earlier words, Hermione felt an overwhelming wave of fear. She was forced into remembering that the reason she even had Harry was because, at the time, Ginny just wasn't ready for him. And now she was.

"Hey," Harry said, getting her attention. "I love you and only you, okay?" he said seriously. "And, anyway, it isn't like she apologised or anything," he muttered. "I still can't forgive the way the entire family just stopped talking to us, even if I can sometimes understand it."

"Ron says he wants to see me," she told Harry. "He wants to talk about us."

Harry took a moment to digest that information. "Did they honestly just expect us to wait around all this time?" he asked sourly, his anger rising. "Hiding out, doing nothing, feeling nothing, while they worked through their grief as a family?"

Hermione put a comforting hand on his forearm to keep him calm.

Harry immediately deflated. "I'll agree to see them," he eventually said. "Not alone though. We tell them both together, okay?"

Hermione was inclined to agree. There really was no telling how each of them would react to the news that she and Harry intended to get married. But then again, as her mother had said, the piece of paper and the rings were merely a formality. They'd been acting like a married couple for years.

"We'd have to go back to England," Hermione mentioned to him, watching as his features hardened.

"The entire Wizarding World is going to find out that we're back," he said, unable to hide his distaste. "They'll be vultures, Hermione."

"We'll fly in," she said slowly. "Won't even step foot near the Ministry."

"That won't stop them," he muttered. "You know as well as I do the number of letters they've sent to me, trying to get me to make an appearance at one of their thousand Victory celebrations."

"Well, we're not going anywhere near them," she said gently. "You are under no obligation to bend to the Ministry, okay? It might be nice, though, to go home for a bit," she said. "We could even visit Andy and Teddy. I'm desperately missing the little guy. Their last stay wasn't nearly long enough."

Harry conceded to that, which gave Hermione license to start making plans. There was no immediate timeline on their return, given that schools started at the beginning of the calendar year in Australia. Hermione had time to make decisions, and so did Harry.

Hermione sent a blanket letter back to both Ginny and Ron, explaining to them that she and Harry would be making a trip to England soon, and would be more than happy to meet with them both. The letter gave nothing away but Hermione wasn't going to hide the fact that she and Harry were in the same place, wherever it was that they were.

When Hermione mentioned the impending trip to her mother, Jane wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Do you think it's a good idea?" she asked her daughter.

"I think it's a terrible idea," Hermione admitted. "We both do, really, but it has to be done eventually, right?"

Jane couldn't help but laugh. "The two of you have come a long way, haven't you?"

Hermione nodded. "Together."

Jane agreed. "Together."

A week later, they had their tickets. The week after that, they were on their way back to the country they had inadvertently fled a year earlier. The truth was that neither of them had intended to stay away for so long, but Australia had proved to be the place for them during their recovery from the War.

When they touched down in London, Harry Apparated them to Grimmauld Place. It didn't feel like a home but it was still familiar to them both.

"Think we could try a bed this time around?" Hermione asked, grinning at him.

"For someone who spent the better part of yesterday on a plane, you have quite a bit of energy," Harry pointed out. "Did you take a Pepper Up potion or something?"

"I guess, a part of me is happy to be back," she admitted, making her way to the library. To her, nothing much had changed. She could tell that Kreacher had been by to tidy things up and dust off the cobwebs. She really did miss that old rotten elf.

"Hmm," Harry sounded, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know, Hermione, we've never really christened Grimmauld Place."

Hermione couldn't ignore the feel of his hot breath against her neck. Really, he knew that she couldn't resist him sometimes. This was one of those times, and Hermione found herself tangled up in the blankets of their famous makeshift bed on the floor of the library.

"It does feel good to be home, doesn't it?" Harry said, absently reaching for her hand and playing with her fingers. He was lying on his side, watching her, as his rate of breathing settled down.

Hermione stared at their hands, and then at her ring. "Should I take it off for when we meet them?" she asked.

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Then don't."

Hermione let out a long breath. "I should probably let my mother know that we've arrived safely," she said, sitting up. "And you should probably organise some food. I'm starving."

"I love you," he said simply, as he too sat up. "Should I go out and get something or are you keen on seeing Kreacher tonight?"

Hermione spent a moment thinking about it. "Go out," she said, gently touching his bare chest. "I'm not really in the mood to get dressed anyway."

Harry leaned over to kiss her. "Just how I like it."

Hermione just watched as he stood up and got dressed. There was something incredibly simple and easy about living a life with Harry Potter. He knew her so well, and she probably knew him better than he knew himself. They just fit and, now that they were back in England, they were going to have to justify it.

How could she possibly come up with a solid, believable reason as to why she loved Harry the way she did? Unconditionally and wholeheartedly?

It'd probably be easier to come up with reasons why she didn't love him.

Hermione was still on the phone with her mother when Harry returned with their dinner. It was Thai from somewhere several blocks down. She didn't ask. It tasted so good, especially with the chilli sauce. She practically poured it on like it was going out of fashion.

"You'll be complaining in the morning," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a witch, Harry."

Of course, Harry was right, and the two of them spent the morning seeing to Hermione's condition. Harry might have wanted to tell her 'I told you so' but she already looked so miserable.

"We can postpone the lunch with Ron and Ginny," Harry offered, as he held her hair away from her face while she vomited for the millionth time.

"No," she said calmly, as she sat back. "I'm okay. The potion should be ready."

Harry merely nodded, before he left her to retrieve said potion. One vial of it later, Hermione was as good as new, beaming at him conspiratorially.

"What?" he asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you spiked the food just so I would be too sick to meet them for lunch," she said, eyeing him.

"Good thing you know better then," he muttered. "And plus, there are simpler, less elaborate ways to get out of it. Why would I willingly deal with all of that this morning? I swear we're not having sex for at least a week."

She laughed. "Come on. We've got places to be; people to see."

Once they were ready, Harry Apparated them to Muggle London, where they'd agreed to meet with the two youngest Weasleys. Meeting in the Wizarding World was not an option, and neither was meeting in private.

Harry and Hermione arrived early as planned and found a table near the back of the restaurant, giving them a good vantage point.

"You don't think that they would have told someone we were here, do you?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting about.

Harry cast a quick Notice-Me-Not Charm on them, which he would drop the second they spotted the two redheads. There was no harm in being careful. Harry wanted nothing to do with the Ministry, and they weren't going to take any chances.

"There they are," Hermione said, her hand automatically reaching for his under the table.

When Harry spotted them, he tensed. "I imagine this isn't going to go well," he muttered under his breath and, despite herself, Hermione smiled.

"Shut up and drop the Charm," she said, squeezing his hand.

Harry did as he was told and, in the next sweep across the room, Ron spotted them. Before they reached the table, Harry turned towards Hermione. "I love you," he whispered, just in time.

"Harry, Hermione," Ron called out, getting the attention of more than just the two at the table.

Harry and Hermione both stood up, letting go of each other's hands.

"It's so good to see you, mate," Ron said, pulling Harry into a tight hug. "How have you been? Merlin, you're tanned."

Harry didn't respond as Ron moved his attention on to Hermione, and Ginny greeted him next. She hugged him for a long time and, when she released him, she kissed his cheek. Harry could practically feel Hermione's intake of breath, even though he couldn't hear it.

Once the greetings were over, the four of them sat down. Ginny made sure to sit right beside Harry, her eyes solely on him.

Harry reached for Hermione's hand under the table and she sneaked a look at him but he was looking down at the tabletop.

"So what have you two been up to?" Ron asked, regarding his two best friends curiously.

Hermione sneaked another look at Harry. This time, he was looking at Ron. "Oh, well, we've just been traveling," she said.

"We visited Hermione's parents," Harry added. "All is well with them, by the way."

"So you've just been travelling, huh?" Ginny asked.

"Pretty much," Harry said awkwardly. "But enough about us," he said, clearing his throat. "How are you guys? How's the family?"

"They're good," Ginny responded, her elbows resting on the able. "George and Angelina are going steady," she explained. "Charlie is still habitually single. Bill and Fleur are enjoying being parents. It's been a better year for us."

"Has it?" Harry asked under his breath, dropping his head. He didn't want to feel sour about everything that had happened, but he just couldn't help it.

"Oh, mate, don't be like that," Ron said, grinning at his friend.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand, calming him. Harry felt anything but calm, but he didn't say anything more in that moment.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Say, Hermione, I was wondering if you and I could talk?"

"We're talking," Hermione said.

"Alone."

Ginny picked up the thread. "Yes, Harry, I think the two of us should talk as well."

"We're talking," Harry said, echoing Hermione.

"Alone."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. "Look," Hermione said to both redheads. "Whatever either of you need to say either of us, just say it. Harry and I don't keep secrets from each other."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"What did you expect?" Harry asked, growling slightly. "We've only had each other, haven't we?"

"Harry!" Ginny said, her eyes widening. "What's gotten into you?"

Harry turned his head towards her. He had a nasty remark on the tip of his tongue, but Hermione stopped him by releasing his hand and running her fingers through his hair, knowing that it work.

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly.

Ron just stared at them, his eyes darting from witch to wizard. "What is going on here?"

Hermione dropped her hand. "I suppose this is as good a time as any," Hermione said, her eyes drifting between the two siblings. Whenever Hermione got into Hermione-mode, she started to talk with her hands, and this time was no different. "The thing is, you see, Harry and I, we're -"

"Engaged!" Ginny shrieked.

Hermione froze. "What?"

Ginny zeroed in on Hermione's left hand. "You have a ring on your finger," Ginny said. "You're engaged?"

Ron's eyes widened. "To Harry?"

Hermione managed a smile. "Surprise," she said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Surprise?" Ron echoed, only louder.

Several heads turned their way, and Harry had the wherewithal to cast several Charms to make sure that nobody could hear them or even notice them.

"What the hell is this?" Ron asked, his voice rising. "Tell me this is all some sick joke!"

"It's not a joke, Ron," Hermione said calmly, but Harry could hear the twitch of annoyance in her tone. "Harry and I, we're together, and we're getting married."

Ron turned his stare towards Harry. "Are you serious? You and Hermione?"

Harry didn't respond to him.

"So, what?" Ron continued, getting angrier. "While the rest of us were here grieving for our families; the two of you were out there, galavanting all over the country and what? Falling in love?" He looked a bit disgusted.

Harry had anger enough to match Ron's, but Hermione's hand now gripping his thigh tightly stopped him from saying a word.

"I lost everything," Ron yelled; "and, what, you get the girl, huh? Of course Harry Potter would get everything handed to him!"

Harry sat back, taking deep breaths. He was surprised by how quiet Ginny was being but, then again, he imagined that this was quite a bit to digest. Of course though, unlike her brother, she didn't allow her mouth to run off without her logic.

Hermione took her own calming breath. "Listen to yourself," she said to Ron. "You lost everything? Since when do we go around comparing loss, Ronald?"

"We do it because of him!" Ron yelled, pointing at Harry. "How are the rest of us even supposed to compare? How does Fred compare to everyone the Boy-Who-Lived has lost?"

Harry stood up quite suddenly. "I don't have to listen to this," he said sharply. "You want to compare loss, Ron, then fine. Fine. You lost your brother, and I'm deeply sorry. If you think you deserve Hermione because something was taken from you, then you know nothing about life and love, or even about Hermione. I'm sorry you're so damn angry, but I did not come here for this.

"You threw us out like we were nothing," he hissed. "You made it perfectly clear that we weren't wanted. What did you expect us to do? Just sit around and wait around while you grieved with you family?" Harry let out a bitter laugh. "We mourned on our own, and we moved on the only way we knew how. Together. I owe you no apologies and I owe you no explanations."

"Nobody expected this," Ron hissed back.

"We didn't plan it," Hermione said, also standing up. "It just happened." Which was only part of the truth. Hermione had a feeling that both she and Harry left the Burrow that day, knowing that there would never be anyone else for either of them.

Ron stood up as well, not wanting to be the only one to be sitting. Ginny wasn't even involved in the conversation. "I'm sure it did," Ron said angrily, his eyes on Harry. "I bet you couldn't wait to get her alone, huh? It probably burned you that she was interested in me first. How does it feel to know you've had Ron Weasley's seconds?"

Before Harry could respond, Hermione lifted her hand and slapped the redhead across the face.

Everyone was shocked by it.

"Don't you dare," Hermione growled, her eyes glaring and her magic flaring. "I am not your seconds, Ronald Weasley! You have no claim on me. We kissed once, for Merlin's sake. And then you let me leave, and I don't hear from you for more than year!

"You have a problem with this, that's on you," she said hotly, even though she tried to calm down. "We're not going to sit here and be punching bags for your displaced anger. I love Harry and he loves me. We're together; we're going to get married whether you like it not. And, frankly, at this point, I don't quite care what you think.

"I mean, Merlin, Ron, you wrote to us. You finally wrote to us, and this is it? What did you want from us? What did you expect, in all honesty? Did you really thing we'd just come running, as if we were things you could just cast aside when you didn't need us, and then call us back and expect nothing to have changed?"

Ron said nothing.

Hermione took hold of Harry's hand. "You're right, Harry," she said. "We don't have to listen to this."

With that, the two of them left the restaurant, hand-in-hand, without even looking back. They had made it onto the sidewalk when someone called both their names.

It was Ginny.

Harry and Hermione turned to see the youngest Weasley running up to them.

"I get it," she said, coming to a stop about a metre away from them. "I mean, I don't like it, but I get it." She took a step back. "I guess, umm, I'm not really shocked. You guys have always been quite, umm, close, and I, umm, am, well, I guess I'm happy for you."

"You are?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Ginny nodded. "I am."

"But why?" Hermione asked.

"I imagine that you make each other happy."

Hermione couldn't help her smile, and Harry grinned.

"What?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Nothing," they said at the same time.

Ginny blinked. "See what I mean," she said, shrugging slightly. "And I'm sorry about Ron."

Harry and Hermione said nothing.

"I'm also sorry about the way we treated you both," she added, dropping her gaze. "You didn't deserve that."

Neither of them knew what to say to her and, thankfully, she didn't expect a response.

"I just thought that I would tell you," Ginny said. "It'll take some time but everyone will get over it. As long as you're both happy."

"We are," they said at the same time.

"It's like a circus act," Ginny said, laughing. "I should probably head back and make sure that Ron hasn't killed anyone."

"Thank you, Ginny," Harry said. "We really appreciate your understanding."

Ginny nodded once, and then she turned around and walked away while Harry and Hermione watched in a bit of a daze.

"It's more than I expected," Hermione said, turning and starting them on their walk again. She slipped her arm through his and leaned into him. "And less, all at the same time."

"I'm sorry about the things he said," Harry said sadly.

"I am too," Hermione said.

"It's been quite the trip home, hasn't it?"

"It can only get better from here."

Harry shifted their positions and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I imagine it can't get worse."

"There you go again," she said, shaking her head. "Honestly, couldn't you have left your imagination in Australia?"

Harry kissed her temple. "You weren't complaining about my imagination last week," he teased.

Hermione blushed. "Oh hush."

He laughed. "We didn't actually eat lunch, you know? Are you hungry?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Thai."

She groaned. "I can't even say that I'm surprised by that," she said. "Sometimes you're so predictable."

"You weren't saying that last week," he teased again.

"You're really hung up on last week, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Well, it's a good thing that we're not having sex for a week, right?"

"Right," he muttered.

Hermione giggled. "Do you want to go home?"

Harry nodded.

"So you can use your unpredictable imagination on me?"

"It doesn't sound so great when you say it like that," he said, pouting.

"Food first," she said.

"Pizza?"

"Soup."

He grinned at her. "The tummy's still not right?"

"I just feel like soup," she said coyly. "Maybe a takeaway?"

Harry squeezed her shoulders. "You just want me, don't you?"

"You are the only one I will ever want," she said, her arm snaking around his waist as she looked up at him. "We're getting married, Harry."

"I guess now we can pick a date," he offered. "We've told them, even though we haven't really. There's nothing holding us back now."

"Is that what you think was making us drag our feet?"

"We've been engaged for five months, Hermione."

"So then let's get married," she said simply.

"What?"

"Let's get married."

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

Harry coughed, too surprised to form words. "Umm?"

"We should get married, Harry. Right now."

"We can't."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Your parents aren't even here," he said. "How am I supposed to give you the wedding you deserve in half a day? And, if we get married, we'd be breaking your mother's heart."

"So you don't want to get married?"

"Hey, twisty, stop with the bold statements," he muttered. "You know as well as I do that I want to marry you," he said seriously; "Just not like this."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Hermione kissed his cheek. "Why are you always so surprised when I agree with you?"

"Do I really have to respond to that? I'm in the interest of staying in this relationship, thank you very much."

"Wise man."

Harry was grinning at her. "Just trying to keep up with my wise woman."

"She's demanding, is she?"

"Who said that?"

She laughed. "The man I'm going to marry."

"I thought you were smarter than that, Miss Granger," he said, nudging her gently with his hip. "I think it's time you got rid of him.

"I would," she said; "but the thing is that I'm kind of in love with him. What's a girl to do?"

"I'm the wrong person to ask," he said seriously. "I'm a little biased, you know? I have invested interest in your happiness."

"Is that so?"

Harry kissed her temple, absently breathing her in. "I love you."

"I love you too, Harry Potter."

Harry used the brief break of conversation to steer them towards a quaint sandwich shop. Hermione perused the many wall hangings while Harry ordered for them, specifying that it was to-go.

Hermione didn't ask him where they were going but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be back to Grimmauld Place.

She was not mistaken.

To her genuine surprise, Harry Apparated them to their clearing in the Forest of Dean. He busied himself with setting up a small picnic area for them while Hermione spent her time remembering all that had happened in this magical place.

At some point, Harry reached for her hand and led her over to the small blanket he'd spread out of the ground. They sat together, enjoying the sounds and the smells - and the silence.

"I want us to get married here," Harry said as if it were some sort of declaration.

"Here?"

He nodded. "I remember it being the first place you ever considered spending the rest of your life with only me, and I want it to be the place where that becomes a reality."

Hermione abandoned her food and drink and practically flung herself at him, immediately peppering his face with kisses enough to draw a giggle from him.

"Hermione," he protested as he fell back and she climbed on top of him.

She silenced him by kissing him on the mouth. He tasted like tikka chicken and avocado and he smelt like warmth. Hermione couldn't really explain it but, just the smell of him, made her feel safe. Especially in this place that had kept them hidden from the world's dangers.

"Hermione," he said, sounding breathless as he gently pushed her up.

Groaning in protest, Hermione sat up, straddling him, and looked down at him. "Harry, you can't just make declarations like that and not expect me to react."

Harry didn't respond.

"Are you being serious though?"

"Deathly."

"Well well well, Harry Potter," she said, her palms splayed on his chest. "I didn't know you were so sentimental."

"I promise to spend my life continuing to surprise you."

"Are you going to put that in your vows?"

His eyes widened, his hands resting on her thighs. "We have to write our own vows?"

"Oh definitely."

He grinned at her. "You're going to regret saying that."

"Why?"

His smile never faltered.

"Why, Harry?" she asked again, shifting on top of him. "What do you have planned?"

"I imagine that you'll be pleasantly surprised by what I have to say."

She shook her head as she rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, how could I forget? Harry Potter and his unpredictable imagination."

Harry wasted no time in switching their positions so that Hermione was now pinned beneath him. She looked a little flustered, which just made him smile. "Complain all you want, Hermione," he said, dipping his head to kiss her. "This is it for both of us."

"I imagine it is."

And when Harry proceeded to kiss her again - and possibly do other things to her - Hermione vowed never again to complain about his imagination.

Fin