"Come on, come on, Hermione! Take a picture!"

Hermione's cheeks flushed at all her giggling at Ron, who was impatiently beckoning her to just belt up and take the damn picture. Harry was laughing along with her, because why not? They just saved the world. They just killed Voldemort. They just finally had the chance to be normal teenagers, even though they heavily doubt they ever were or will be.

And Ron was holding Harry in his arms tightly, not daring to let him get away, because this was also the die they almost died, this was the day Harry really almost died, this was the day the Golden Trio silently said to each other that they will never leave again, and that if they do, they will always come back to where they belong. This was the day they held hands and whispered, "Always." This was the day Ron Weasley ran up to Harry Potter and hugged him tight, because in all their years of self-sacrifice, they never got a chance to. Ron insisted that it was a manly hug.

But Harry knew it was just code for: "I missed you, mate." And quite frankly, he felt the same.