a/n: Finally, you have made it to the last chapter, with innocuous contents, except for...fluff abound. Cavities galore for those who love Harmony. Consider yourself properly warned :)

Sunrise over the ocean

She awoke to upbeat music from the wizarding wireless network and the squawks of seagulls. Other than general weakness, and her muscle stiff with misuse, she felt somewhat pain-free, refreshed and a tad too warm being wrapped in three thick blankets. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes dropping upon a newly-conjured bedside table, on which rested her latest edition of "Mastering Healing Spells", next to a long unfurled parchment filled with his scribbled handwriting, a fond smile unconsciously painted on her face. She stood up decisively, almost lurching forward under her shaky legs, but she managed to lean against the table and soon got the feel of her feet on the cold ground.

She took one last look around the tent before stepping out into the open air, crisp morning breezes caressing her face. She didn't know how long she had been sleeping, but the last time she remembered, they stopped at the edge of a deep forest on a gloomy evening, whereas she was now standing on a cliff looking over the vast ocean.

There arrived myriad birds, velvety black prominent upon the dull pearl expanse. The sun looked like it wanted to burst through the thick bleak veil, a touch of coral obscured as if holding a secret embraced in the curl of soft palms. Fluffy billows wandered off idly, divulging the lingering crescent as a glimmer of the regal crown of Princess Aurora, who was slumbering behind slate ripples.

The ocean was a fluttering silvery carpet, lining with infinite wisps of foams that trailed kisses along the shore, singing a hushed lullaby, offering a divine sense of peace. In that very sublime ambiance she saw him standing solitarily amid the immensity of nature, both hands in his pockets, his raven mop ruffled in the whistles of ocean winds.

Memories of him still fresh in her mind, back in their first year, when she was an outcast bookworm who casually noticed her bespectacled housemate sitting on the hilltop, a strikingly beautiful snowy owl on his shoulder, she was held spellbound by the way his solitude mirrored desolation of her own. That was also the first time she could hear the thread of connection between them vibrate in her heart. Currently facing his back to her was no longer a scrawny 11-year-old boy but a precocious young man who never failed to instill into her valor and integrity, and give her a wondrous sense of security and warmth. As usual, silently watching him led her heartbeats to act erratic.

"Hey!" he greeted her before turning around and sending her a friendly smile.

Her heart skipped a beat at the realization of getting caught red-handed. Her widened eyes fleetingly caught his amused emerald ones, and quickly averted to the horizon behind him, a bright crimson not due to fever flushing her cheeks.

"Um…H-hi, Harry!" she stuttered, mentally chastising herself for losing her nerves that easily.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked gently. His question somehow rang a bell.

"Good." She briefly checked her overall condition and decided, oddly inhibited to look straight at him, still appearing to be fascinated by the tranquil ocean ahead of them.

"Hermione, come here!" His call was a guttural sound lacing itself in the serene ocean's lullaby.

If anything, she found herself blushing more deeply, getting agitated at how she was affected merely by his voice. She was intentionally fixing her eyes upon the looming misty mountains without actually seeing anything when she could feel him coming closer, inexplicable nervousness swelling in her stomach. She was pondering whether to run when she felt a firm hold on her waist, his warm hand placing on her forehead before his fingers tenderly lifted her chin up, making her look at him.

She gulped audibly, her heart pounding wildly in her rib cage. Something must have had palpably shifted, it was the way he looked at her, different, piercing, and naked, that made her knees go weak. She simply wanted to melt into the intense heat which suddenly permeated her surroundings.

Before she could decipher what was happening, he crushed her in his arms, removing all the awkwardness between them, leaving her amazed at how they could mold into each other perfectly. His embrace worked beyond the scope of any transfiguration magic or charm work, a miraculous blend of both natural and magical, of both genuine and ethereal. After what seemed like an eternity, he grudgingly released his grip, and smiled broadly at her, their faces infused with the same glow of ecstasy.

They were cuddling on a flat rock, waiting to watch sunrise together, both relaxed and comfortable as if this were in their daily schedule. Except for trivial comments on weather and the frenzied herds of seagulls circling above the ocean, they barely exchanged any serious conversation, simply enjoying the symphony of nature before dawn. She was looping her arm around his waist, her head laid on his shoulder, her hand fiddling with the Horcrux locket on his chest, immersed in the rustling waves, and beginning to feel drowsy.

"Hermione?" his voice lulled her mind further, so she was rather bemused when he suddenly pulled away as she responded. He ran his hand through his tousled hair, choosing his words carefully. "Well…I am just curious..." He took a wary glance at her, and her own curiosity was piqued. She nodded keenly, urging him to continue. He took a deep breath and said so fast that she might have not caught it hadn't it been for her undivided attention, "whether you really haven't kissed anyone before."

"Oh!" She gave an exclamation of understanding. Strangely enough, she didn't feel any uncomfortable talking to him about that so-called delicate topic at all. As a matter of fact, she wanted to share with him, and maybe, revealing a snippet of her true feelings. "I never lie to you, Harry."

"But…but…why?" he stammered in sheer astonishment, though she could read a gleam of something almost like solace in his eyes. "I mean...what about Victor Krum," She sensed he had yet to finish. He turned to look straight ahead, shadows cast over his face, a faraway look in his eyes, and eventually voiced his wondering, quietly yet emphatically, "and Ron?"

Emotions on his face were so plain that she dared not try to decipher, yet her heart kept accelerating with each budding sliver of hope. He refused to look at her, but she shrugged nonchalantly trying to make light of the mounting tension, and keeping an emotionless tone, her eyes never leaving his profile.

"Victor was merely an acquaintance, one date to the Yule Ball and several impersonal letters for a year or so before I stopped writing to him," Another shrug preceded her slightly reluctant voice, "and Ron..." she paused, and watched him closely. He was static, but for a single blink. She was uncertain what she wanted to tell him at that point, thus she went for a blunt truth, "he told me he fancied me, a lot." He instantly wheezed out a breath, his head hung low as if in a nod, while she had to go on. "Well, he did ask me a few times, but I…I…" She saw her opportunity to drop the pretense then, yet a lump got locked in her throat as he turned abruptly at her, expectation blazing in his eyes. Her heart seemingly jolting out of her chest, her boldness withered under his pointed gaze, she found herself stammering, "I guess I…I'm…not ready."

"Oh" was his only response, and she had to bite her lower lip, holding back a laugh at how his reaction reflected hers. He even sounded more clueless than her.

"Okay" was his next single word.

They were both sitting on the rock and waiting for sunrise again, a notable distance between them this time. He was looking towards the Eastern horizon, while she the Western direction, getting back to staring unseeingly at the mysterious looms, unable to help a twinge of disappointment. Silence became oppressive shortly, the ocean calmed as the amber spirals got increasingly vivid, even the noisy seagulls indulged themselves in dancing gracefully just above the water surface.

Her mind was wandering to the eventful night in the woods, pieces of memory trickling into her mentality, when she felt an imperceptible tingling in her pinky finger. She looked down to see their hands barely an inch apart, his pinky finger stretching to lock with hers. Her gaze traveled from his hand up to his face, pleasantly surprised that he had silently scooted closer without her noticing. She heard him clear his throat, his eyes still plastered to the aesthetic Eastern sky, when she could tell his hand covered her small one momentarily before all his fingers intertwined with hers. He turned his head to her that moment, while she dipped her head to hide a shy smile forming on her lips.

"Um, so the sun is rising in any minute," the way he spoke indicated that he wasn't really interested in sunrise, so she patiently waited for him to get to the point, yet all she received was a loud "Bloody Hell!"

She reflexively frowned at him, and was about to lecture him on proper language when he smoothly grabbed her other hand, his right leg twisting around her left one, holding her half captive.

He said flatly, "the thing is, I'd genuinely love to be your first kiss." He was looking directly at her, his bright eyes unwavering. "Is it okay with you, Hermione?"

She thought she had heard him wrong, tears unwittingly surging in her eyes, and she looked hastily away for fear of getting crestfallen from mishearing. "No…I mean…not really, I'm—"

"Please?" He was kneeling in front of her, silencing her with one finger on her lips, raw emotions swirling in his hypnotic eyes. She could only give a dumb nod, and he promptly replaced his finger with his lips.

They shared their first kiss at the crack of dawn sharp.

The sun peeked out on the horizon, creating a glittering stroke of an amber paintbrush on the ocean canvas. Princess Aurora awakened with a kiss of true love was blushing resplendent shades of crimson, her visage imbued with a majestic creamy yellow light, her hair a regal halo of gold gracing the Earth with warmth, radiance, and vivacity of a new beginning. The magnificent sky, the peaceful ocean, and joyous birds, all were caroling a salutation to another bright new day. Only two certain originally eager sunrise watchers missed that breathtaking moment of the day, since they were both entirely absorbed into a breathless snog fest of their own.

Not until the sun had mounted over the horizon, radiating luminous rays all over the ocean, and putting a sheen of gold onto the silvery carpet did they break the kiss, their foreheads leaning against each other.

"Merlin! You're bloody freaking brilliant, Hermione!" he murmured in total rapture.

She laughed cheerily, exhilarated by their wonderful kiss. "You've said that so many times that I've lost count."

He pulled her to her feet and curled his arms around her waist, his eyes fastened to her swollen lips. "Nah, I mean your lips." He ran his tongue over his lips, and the tingles on hers came back full force. "Bloody hell, you're a real torture, Hermione!" He kissed her briskly before breaking the contact, his eyes flashing with awe. "Beyond my wildest dreams," his lips brushed hers lightly with each word, "delicious, magnetic, hypnotic, and simply divine!"

Needless to say, she was blushing profusely with that torrent of praises from him, which was culminated in his throaty voice, "and you are drop-dead gorgeous, Hermione!" as he cupped her face with his hands, adoration and fervor sparkling in his emerald orbs.

She was struck with such incredulous bliss that tears unconsciously streaked down her cheeks, prompting him to dash them away, soothe sweet nothingness into her ears, and lavish on her his bewitching amorous gaze. Both his manners and his words helped bolster her confidence greatly, reeling the inexplicable sense of uncertainty in her head. She had every belief that her feelings were requited.

She rose on tiptoe and grazed her lips lightly at the top of his head, relishing the feel of his hair, and playfully tapped his nose tip with her forefinger. She smiled cheekily at him. "Just to let you know, Mr Potter, flattery gets you nowhere."

"Liar!" he retorted, a note of triumph in his voice, and flashed her a roguish grin, "didn't I just sweep you off your feet, Miss Granger?"

She was undergoing the strangest sentiments ever. On one hand, he was making her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. On the other hand, she felt somewhat alienated to this flirtatious side of him, rousing wistful feelings in her heart. Any residue of insecurity, fuelled by self-doubt, reared its ugly head again, she found herself wondering how he treated his ex-girlfriends, or rather one ex-girlfriend and one in-between. Guilt washing over her at the thought of Ginny, her smile unconsciously dropped. She bemusedly pulled herself free from his arms and turned towards the ocean, but he immediately grabbed her from behind, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, smelling her deeply, making her involuntarily tremble with a wave of pleasure.

"What's wrong? Was it something that I said?" his soft voice was tinted with concern, softening her heart at once.

She turned around and flung her arms around his neck, shaking her head to reassure him. "Nothing like that." She looked at him earnestly, telling him the half-truth, too scared to voice her disquiet about Ginny just yet, "it's just either you have changed or there is some part of you that I don't know."

"Coz I'm with you, Hermione," he replied smoothly. Snaking his arms around the small of her back, he hugged her closer to his side, his voice soft yet firm, "you make me feel like I'm walking on cloud nine." He searched her face fondly before locking eyes with her, startling her with the unmitigated honesty, mingled with a speck of sadness, in his look, his soft voice piercing her heart, "don't you know, Hermione? This, being with you like this, is what I've always wanted."

Her heart froze in her chest. She couldn't believe her ears, what she thought she just heard was simply too good to be true. It was beyond the boundary of the logic with which her mind was in commune. She blurted out, incredulity conspicuous on her face, "But G-Ginny, she said you lo—"

"Bloody Hell!" he grumbled loudly, cutting her off mid-sentence. He sighed despondently, one hand rising to scrape his head vigorously before settling firmly back on her waist, his squeeze becoming almost painful. He uttered with a mild vexed tone, "what the hell could Ginny say? We barely had a decent conversation, she knows bloody nothing about me, nor do I her." He stopped at the reproaching look on her face, and had the grace to appear a little contrite before sending her a compelling gaze. "Anyway, you must understand, Hermione! I broke off things with Ginny at professor Dumbledore's funeral. It was completely over ages ago." He lowered his voice, sullenness flitting across his face, "actually, it was never real to begin with. I sort of tried to steal a bit of normalcy by dating a pretty, popular girl, snogging and having fun like an ordinary hormonal teenager...and you already know what came out of it at the end of our 6th year."

His eyes were filled with absolute sorrow and he was saying with such bitterness that she instinctively embraced him closely, rubbing soothing circles on his back, while she in turn drew comfort from his tightening around her waist as they spared one quiet moment to commemorate their departed headmaster.

He sniffed loudly on her shoulder, and pulled back to look at her affectionately. "I should have known then nothing about my life is normal." He channeled admiration and wonderment in his passionate look as he trailed his fingers along the contours of her face. He continued hoarsely, "I should have embraced what stays true and constant in my life."

She gave him a subtle smile, her heart rejoicing at his heartfelt words. He smiled back, rather sheepishly, and let out a humorless chuckle. "I guess I wasn't myself when you were mooning over…" His ostensibly light-hearted confession screeched to a halt. He looked pointedly at her, his tone taking a frosty edge. "It is about Ron rather than Ginny, isn't it?"

Unable to bear the poignancy in his eyes any longer, she gently removed his glasses and clipped it to her shirt collar as his brows furrowed in confusion. She brushed her fingers against his forehead until it got relaxed. She was staring into his eyes, rendered more stark and intense by manifolds without glasses, devastatingly awestruck by the sheer allure of his emerald orbs, which were shimmering with a touch of tranquil oceans, deep forests, and clear sky, tinted with the mystery of obsidian nights.

She breathed a whisper, her voice seemingly underlined with ocean waves, unconsciously turning low and sultry, warm chocolate brown magnetized by piercing bright green, "Ron can sod off, at least for now, 'cause I'm going to do what I've always yearned to do for a bloody long long long time."

She pulled his head down and kissed him hungrily. She was feeling more and more ravenous for his lips, for the unadulterated pleasure derived from their lip connection. She was leading him, teasing his lips with her tongue. Taking the initiative felt terrific, her entire being burst with exaltation while he was no less passionate, actively probing her mouth with greater force and assertion. He lifted her off the ground as she lithely wrapped her legs around his waist, combing his hair with both hands, her mouth stuck to his face. Once again were they forced to break the kiss, gasping for air, both with ruddy faces, swollen lips and ablaze eyes.

"Wow! Hermione," he wheezed, gently putting her down, "your lips are irresistible. I daresay I'm wholly addicted."

"I'm afraid I must say the same to you, Harry," she whispered back, still a tad foggy in the mind, her heated body literally breaking into sweat.

The glaze in his eyes dispersed as quickly as the mist over the ocean at the first dawnlight, leaving behind the fresh luster, now afire with passion, which was directed at her with such a staggering force that she felt rather light-headed. He pressed her closer, and said throatily, "so what are you waiting for, Miss Granger? Be my girlfriend! I'll help feed your addiction, every sunrise, every day, every hour, every minute, every bloody second if you want."

She sagged against him, and he automatically enfolded her in his protective arms. What he just said could melt the thickest cauldron, thus naturally leaving her boneless. She was turned into a mesh of skin and flesh, her heart exploding with happiness, her soul currently floating on air.

"Hmm. Not a bad idea." She clung to him with abandon, her eyes fastened on his hopeful face, a coy smile upon her lips, her voice a little too tremulous for her liking, "you know what, Mr Potter, I'm pretty busy going hunting with one particularly fanciable boy these days..." She was fleetingly speechless as the grin on his face couldn't stretch any wider. Overcome with sudden shyness, she brushed his shoulder lightly to remove invisible dust on his sweater. "But honestly, I might consider ditching him if, well, you have some sort of an emergency."

"This is definitely an emergency!" he exclaimed, smacking her sound on the lips. He then gave her an adorable half-nervous, half-eager smile. "So?"

"What do you think why I just snogged you senseless, Harry?" She shook her head in mock sympathy, and then gave a shrug of nonchalance, though her heart felt like bursting. "It's a yes, of course….Aaaah!"

She squealed mid-sentence as he picked her up bridal style, totally unbidden, and twirled her around, shouting whoops of delight; her lilting laugh blended with the merry orchestra of seabirds.

They were snuggling on the same rock, no longer to watch sunrise, but to satisfy their mutual need for intimacy. Her back was pressed against his chest, her thick curls swept on one side, spilling on her right shoulder, while he was wrapping his arms around her waist, his fingers intermittently coiling and uncoiling locks of her hair. She was absent-mindedly rubbing the scar on the back of his hand when he called softly, "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she replied distractedly, still captivated by the perpetual undulation of the sea surface, inlaid with golden sunshine.

"I love you, you know."

Her heart skipped a beat. His voice was so light that she feared a random waft of wind would carry it away forever. Stiffening in his arms, holding her breath to listen to her thumping heartbeats, she said tonelessly. "I know, me too."

"No!" his sudden cry almost made her jump. He gently shifted her so that she was now sitting sideways on his lap. Squeezing one of her hand, he grinned rather diffidently at her. "I mean, Hermione, I love you that way."

There was not a shred of doubt in her heart the moment he looked steadfastly in her eyes and professed his love in such an endearingly desperate way.

"I know, me too," she repeated as she could feel her mind, heart and soul nodded their confirmation all together.

"You're not gonna say it, are you?" he asked sulkily, but anticipation was twinkling in his eyes, excitement rosy on his cheeks.

She was beholding a trace of his boyishness with utter fondness, her mind wired for gaiety of young and carefree adolescents. Suddenly feeling like teasing him, she played inquisitive. "You want me to say what, exactly?"

His face fell instantly, a grimace worming its way across his forehead, pricking her conscience to a great extent. She planted a firm kiss on his cheek, and was bestowed with that knee-weakening look of adoration from him again. Holding his face in her palms, she let her love for him freely bleed out of her eyes, primed for the most earnest confession, her voice tender yet clear and determined.

"Since the day you and Ron saved me from the Troll, my life has always revolved around you. Staying close to you, looking after you, and keeping you safe have become the conviction of my life until I realized there is no me without you, Harry. You are my life! You are my best friend, my source of comfort and support, you are my hope for righteousness and justice in our prejudiced world, you are my pedestal of courage and altruism in the face of evil, but most overwhelmingly, extraordinarily, magically, I have known all along, deep in my heart, that you are the love of my life. I love you, Harry, always have and always will, and in every possible way."

Their eyes were locking together with immeasurable love, the most enigmatic universal power manifested plainly and naturally in the look they shared. Her face was stained with tears, mirrored in transparent drops coursing down his cheeks, while on their lips were blossoming two brightest of smiles.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he pushed himself to his feet and wordlessly took her in his arms, where she was gratefully crushed against his chest, his head laid upon her shoulder, his lips brushing her throat. She could feel a flush of blood in her veins every time he sucked gently at her skin. He pressed her closer to his side with every tremor running through her, keeping her still and locked tight in his hold. They were embracing each other in a way they would melt and fuse together in one.

There was no word; they both seemingly spoke louder in silence. Everything had begun with a hug. From the first time her heart fluttered till the day her lifetime dream was fulfilled, hugging had been the most intimate way to communicate her love for him. Now, he chose to mark the consummation of their friendship, as well as the beginning of their profound romantic attachment also with a hug. Whether as best friends, lovers, soulmates or whichever means of bonding they shared, their love for each other was boundless and eternal.

"Hermione, I think we should go to Godric's Hollow," he whispered unexpectedly in her ears.

She drew back her head, a hint of dread in her eyes, "but Harry, it's—"

"Risky, I know." He nodded briefly, and pulled back, allowing some space between them, both hands set firmly on her waist. He looked straight at her and elucidated in an assertive voice, "but you do know that we have to go there at some point, one of the most potential hideaways for Horcruxes I can come up with. Everything originated from there. It's the place I was born, the place my parents were murdered, the place Voldemort was destroyed, once." She was on the verge of voicing her opposition when he lifted his hand to move some wayward curls getting caught in her collar before running the back of his fingers along her cheek, his voice notably softened. "One more thing, Hermione, I am hoping that Godric's Hollow is the burial place for my parents."

Every argument escaping her, she grabbed his hand, turned it over to lean her cheek into his palm, her eyes filled with compassion. She mouthed her agreement, afraid that any other words might burst the dam of his grief, "okay."

There was a mist of somberness veiling over his face, emerald gemstones glistening in a fond smile. He leaned forward and placed his lips on her temple, exerting some impalpable pressure, maintaining the feather-light touch down her cheek, and finally hiding his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in and out steadily. She wanted to bend her neck under the pleasantly prickling sensation, yet he, without warning, crushed her to him, fisting the hem of her shirt on the small of her back in his hand. She, though more or less startled, draped her arms around him, gripping him tightly. He was pressing his lips on her shoulder, perfectly still, as she could barely feel the warm tears seeping through the fabric of her shoulder strap.

"There's something I want to tell you, Hermione." His thick voice shot an inexplicable bolt of expectation through her heart.

He gave her one last persistent squeeze before, slowly, awkwardly, reluctantly, loosening his hold and stepping back, his eyes avoiding hers.

"Ah…um…hold on…" he took off the Horcrux locket and set it on the rock, trying to catch up with words abstractedly.

She was on pins and needles, as he was searching his jeans pocket seemingly for an indefinite span of time, until his face lit up and she caught a glint of sunlight off the object in his hand. The ground beneath her feet suddenly became uneven, yet she appeared to be standing quite relaxed, her face a snapshot of the placid ocean, except for the indiscernible tremble on her lips, her heart galloping in her chest at the expense of her outward calm. She watched him fiddling with the ring in his fingers, his eyes kept carefully away from her keen gaze, his bang fluttering in a zealous dance of ocean breeze, feeling the onset of a burning in her nose as the lightning-bolt scar was smeared before her teary eyes.

"Hermione," he called her attention, and, not expecting her to reply, looked up at her for the first time, keeping his steady voice, "the irony is, I have been, achingly, desperately, constantly, searching for you when you're always right in front of my eyes. I haven't got a bloody clue about love. In fact, I am terrified of it, terrified of the force that has robbed me of all those I care deeply for, but then I met you, we became the best of friends, and you are the best thing that's ever happened to my gloomy life. You are everything I am to you, and…" His voice strangled, he stopped briefly, caught with emotions, and continued with greater vehemence, "and so much more. You are the preserver of my life, the savior of my soul, but most of all, Hermione, you are the holder of my heart, always have been and always will be."

She was amazed by how her eyes remained clear to lock with his, her entire being drowned in the intense love shinning in his stark bright emerald orbs. Their countenances unaltered, they smiled, kissed and loved with their eyes.

He grabbed her left hand that was laid casually on her side, and mutely coaxed her to come closer, his eyes fastened to hers the entire time. Nestling her dainty fingers in his strong hand, he said quietly, "I know we are at war, and there is no telling what to expect, and I am not entitled to make any promise to you just yet…" He looked down shortly before fixing his gaze on her again, his eyes alight with ardour, "but I have every confidence that victory rightfully belongs to the Light, and now that we are together, I believe everything is possible, I believe it's gonna work out fine."

Faith, a powerful current of faith, gushed through her. She always placed her trust in him, the trust born out of her unconditional love for him, and her inherent fierce defiance against all odds that had been plaguing his life, the trust from within her. However, that moment, she was also able to summon trust from everything around her, the glorious sunshine enveloping them both, the rhapsody of ocean waves, the resonance of spiritual voices all over the limitless sky, and the passion shinning in the man she loved, with all her heart, mind, body, and soul. Outside forces were merged into her inner trust, buttressing the former and testifying the latter.

She beamed brightly at him. "I have no doubt, Harry." Overpowered by indescribably strong faith in him, she found herself uttering some meager words, "I trust you, wholly."

He slowly raised their joined hands to his lips and placed a tender, sweet, lingering kiss on her knuckles, his eyes deliberately kept on her face, observing her in the lukewarm fashion of a knight on his quest for a courtship. Color blooming on her cheeks, her heart felt as if it were floating on the crests of ocean waves. She was swooning, literally, his secure grip of her hand being the only thing that kept her feet planted to the ground.

She was helplessly submerged in his swirling emerald seas, as he kept looking composedly at her and confided in her sincerely, "you know that I've always dreamed of having a family… I've been thinking hard, Hermione, I want to build a happy home of my own…" He paused, squeezing her hand gently, while she was stunned to see the beseeching look in his eyes, until he smoothly slipped the ring he had been holding on her finger, his voice bathed with tenderness, "and I want it to be with you, love."

She shifted her gaze down onto her left ring finger, where lay a petite sterling silver split shank band, inscribed with a sapphire pear-shaped solitaire in the center. Her eyes were burning with tears, and she dared not blink, for fear of ruining the transparency of her vision. The ring was shiny and elegant, yet essentially a piece of jewelry that anyone with a decent vault of galleons could buy. It wasn't so much the lustrous band, which fitted her finger perfectly, as his warm hand cradling hers, and his thumb lightly grazing her finger that made her hand start to quiver in his. He instantly tightened his grip on her hand, so strongly that her fingers felt numb, tingling warmth spreading up her arm, and she thought she could sense quickening pulses though their connected fingers.

Deluged with intense emotions, she heard her voice sink to a whisper, "I am with you, Harry, always and forever."

She looked up to see him grinning widely at her, his eyes filled with sunshine, his voice coaxing, "let's go to Godric's Hollow, love!" He swiftly clutched her right hand, guided both of her arms around his neck, one of his hand fastening on her waist, the other lacing in her hair. His mesmeric eyes were pouring out love and devotion as he looked at her, a smile of exuberance budding on his lips. He articulated what simply made her heart burst, "I would like to introduce my future wife to mom and dad."

There was an onslaught of good feelings aroused within her, pride, thrill, jubilation, gratefulness, fulfillment, all of which were mellow and enchanting like a serenade, balmy and soothing like cloudless autumn sky, fierce and unrestrained like a raging storm at the same time; all were jumbled in an all-encompassing energy, happiness, the pinnacle of happiness that only he could give her. The happiness she was drinking in was so divine it must have been shining down on her, engulfing her soul, embracing her heart as holy light from heaven. She smiled radiantly at the young man who just called himself her future husband, conscious of nothing but him and the holy light emanating from him, and she knew he was her heaven.

He pulled her in close for a kiss, sweet and loving, of gratification and felicity. Their lips made a vow when they touched. All of her had already been bound to him, and all of him to her. No exorbitant ring could compare to the promise sealed with their married hearts.

Grim darkness had rolled towards rosy daylight, the blush of dawn had given way to a smooth azure sea, and light breezes gracing both of them with repose had traveled inland to continue disseminating countless myths and folklore. In the forest were flocks of migrating birds weaving ebony chains around the foliage, where patches of lush green were turning into an array of gold. More chills had sneaked into the warm air. Frenetic summer had gradually eased into quiet autumn. Everything was changing.

Throughout all four seasons, the only constant, as years went by, was the love that was now free to glow within her and him, the love that joined them in perfect unity, making them complete.

The sun that had ascended high over the horizon, now a glaring beam of light etched into blue sky like the magical light of heaven's wand, was showering their way back to the tent with warmth. They were still on the run, in the middle of the war, searching for soul compartments of the most evil wizard, and there were brutal battles ahead of them, but neither was daunted.

Wherever they went, as long as they were together, they were home, safe, protected, cared for and loved, truly./.

Thank you for reading, as always ❤️