And here it is! The ending of my short series. I enjoyed writing this story immensely, so I hope you lovely folks enjoyed reading.

A few (perhaps repetitive, but nonetheless heartfelt) credits:

I really appreciate everyone on our Discord server, so if you're in there, this is a shoutout to you! You guys are all amazing, thank you. For specifics; to Deadwoodpecker, whose eagerness to see more of this always made me want to write more. To Meyers1020 who was always encouraging me when I needed it, and of course, to Tina. Without her encouragement and help (and fantastic bad cop), this fun little story wouldn't exist. Thank you guys so much!

The wedding had gone perfectly, as far as Weasley weddings went. Indeed, it was quite tame—there were only two pranks, and neither had been on Harry or Ginny. The dancing had been quite fun, and Harry didn't regret all the lessons he'd had to take. The Magical Binding was the most wondrous thing he'd ever been part of, and he felt different in an inexplicable way. A good way.

Eventually, though, the merriment and excitement wore off and, if he were being honest, all Harry wanted to do was go to their honeymoon and enjoy Ginny. He could tell that Ginny felt much the same, and it was then that they made their departure. He was a fairly patient man in most things, but in this, he wasn't. Ginny had never been a patient woman.

A quick Portkey—Harry really hated Portkeys—led them to a gorgeous small rented home on a beach. He didn't even know where, but he did know that they both had the next two weeks to themselves. He had never looked forward to something so much.

Ginny had asked him to wait in the living-room while she prepared herself, so Harry stared out the window at the picturesque landscape, still gorgeous despite the darkness of night. It gave him time to reflect, so he lost himself in his mind.

So much had changed in his life. He used to be so afraid of so many things. He still held fears—every person does—but he had a wonderful, vivacious wife. Wife, he thought, enjoying the word. He'd never truly appreciated it. He had a family, the one thing he could always remember wanting. His dearest ambition had been achieved, and he only had more to look forward to from here.

But then he heard her calling him, and he was snapped back to the present. Standing on very eager feet, he strode to the bedroom and opened the door, sliding into a glorious sight. The room was spacey and decorated with several different functions and in the corner was a Jacuzzi that he was very eager to experiment with, but his eyes were drawn to one specific sight: the large, plush bed that held his very naked, very gorgeous wife, grinning at him. Atop her head sat the crude, paper crown. The Orgasm Crown, Harry remembered. He hadn't seen it in a while. So, she was saving it for the occasion.

"You are entirely too clothed, Potter," she drawled, her voice entirely too sexy.

Pulling off his clothes in what must have been record time, Harry joined her on the bed, leaning up to gently remove the Crown. He started at it for a moment—they'd had some fun times earning it, and the battles between the Weasley siblings for ownership of it were quite interesting—but they didn't need a Crown to prove they were bloody fantastic at shagging. He chucked it to the side, not caring where it landed, and then pulled Ginny into a heated kiss.

Not breaking contact with her lips, his hand slid down her body, eventually finding itself trailing through her red curls and folds, finding her wet for him. Harry was a man of patience, and he loved foreplay, but he found he couldn't help himself. As he aligned his penis with her center and pushed in, he found she didn't mind, if her moan was anything to judge by.

The first time was frantic, fast and passionate. The second time, some fifteen minutes later, was slow and romantic. It was amazing for Harry to believe that they would share this life forever.

They both dozed off, exhausted and very much sated. He wasn't sure how long it'd been until he woke up again, but he supposed time didn't matter for the next two weeks. All that mattered was Ginny.

He smiled down at her, taking the moment to study her peaceful form. Her hair was spread behind her, and her mouth was open slightly, little whistling noises and all. She was gorgeous. Suddenly—perhaps sensing that she was being watched—her eyes cracked open to find his. She smiled.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice soft and muted from sleep.

Harry pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, "I have no idea."

She snorted, "I guess it doesn't really matter, does it? Not for the next few weeks."

Harry grinned, "I was just thinking the same thing. So, what do you want to do, Mrs. Potter?"

Ginny smiled innocently before stretching and standing. She strode across the room before turning her head back to him and winking, "Do you want to break in the living-room?"

Harry stood eagerly, following her. The last week had been filled with many memories, but now he could look forward to the future and to the many memories yet to be made.