Okay guys. So, this is just a little story that is sort of the year after the "Nineteen Years Later" chapter in DH. I hope you enjoy, and please R&R on your way out :)

Marriage had not changed things much for Harry and Ginny. In some ways, they were different. Rather than a new and exciting relationship, the couple enjoyed something that was lasting and sure, something comfortable. Instead of sneaking around, they could be together whenever they wanted to, without worrying later who would find out. Still though, even after twenty years of marriage, and with three children, Harry and Ginny had never become bored of one another, and were always completely satisfied.

On the day that Harry and Ginny seen their youngest child – a daughter, Lily – off to her first year at Hogwarts, the couple was still very much in love.

"I can't believe Lily's already eleven..." Ginny sighed later that evening, after the dinner dishes had been done and put away. She and Harry were relaxing in the living room, sipping wine in front of a roaring, crackling fire.

"I know," Harry said. "It's unbelievable."

There was a long, comfortable silence. It was one of the silences that Harry and Ginny often had, where each one would reflect on the past and thank God for the present. Harry continued to rub Ginny's feet.

"Do you ever wonder..." Harry began, "what it would be like if I hadn't taken care of Voldemort? What our lives would be like right now?"

Ginny was quiet for a moment, but then said, "No, I don't. I couldn't imagine it, because I wouldn't be with you. James, Albus, and Lily wouldn't exist. I don't know where I'd be...probably hunting Voldemort with out..."

Harry shook his head. "I guess...I never thought of it that way. I mean...I think I sort of take this all for granted, as much as I know I shouldn't. Because, I remember when I wasn't happy, when everyday presented a new problem, and why everyday was a struggle for survival. I hate the memories. I would just sit there and I knew that every move I made affected everyone, not just me. I hated constantly feeling that weight..."

Ginny listened to Harry. He didn't talk about the days of the war much, but it fascinated her when it did. She didn't interrupt him.

"And I never though I'd see the world peaceful," Harry continued. "I never envisioned myself being in this kind of completely perfect life. But I am, and I can't believe it. It's so surreal it's ridiculous..."

Harry turned to Ginny.

"When the days are hard," he said, "they pass slowly. When I couldn't see you, for all those months...every minute lasted an hour. But when things are as perfect as my life is now, time flies by. So, yes...I know what you mean: I can't believe she's eleven either."

"I love you so much, Harry," Ginny said. She couldn't help smiling, even as Harry wore a frown of deep thought. She had loved him since she was ten, and she'd never loved anyone else. Harry was it for her.

"I love you, too, Ginny," Harry said. "I love you more than you could ever know..."

Ginny's smile lit up the room, and Harry leant in to kiss her. He meant to just peck her lips, but the kiss deepened, heated. Ginny dropped her empty wine glass, not caring when she heard it shatter on the hardwood floor as her hands knotted into Harry's messy black hair.

Half their clothes were lying in a pile on the floor when Harry suggested that they move upstairs to bed. "There's never enough room down here..." he panted.

Ginny nodded, and Harry lifted her bridal style into his arms and carried her upstairs. He kicked the door to their bedroom shut, despite the fact that they were now alone in the house, and set Ginny on the bed.

As Harry lay over Ginny, his face buried in the crook of her neck, she unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, and pushed them down, pulling them the rest of the way off with her feet. Harry freed her from her own undergarments before divesting himself of his own underwear.

Even after almost twenty years of marriage and three children, Harry still found Ginny enormously sexy. Ginny felt likewise about Harry. She gasped in pleasure as he filled her. It was a comfortable, sensual, romantic feeling.

"God..." Harry grunted, gasping for breath. "Jesus Christ, Ginny, you're so damn tight..."

Ginny kissed Harry, who moaned into her mouth when she wrapped her legs securely around his waist.

"I love you..." he panted, his voice hurried, as if he was only allowed limited time to say what needed to be said. "I love you so much, honey."

Ginny didn't speak. She simply nodded and made little, high-pitched squeaks of pleasure. Harry groaned every time she moaned, and Harry's groans caused Ginny to only hold him tighter.

"I'll come," Harry panted. "Tell me if you're ready. How long...?"

"I'm almost there-" Ginny grunted. "I'm almost...fucking...there..." She was moving desperately against Harry's body, squirming beneath him.

"Me too," she gasped. "I'm coming." Her voice was more frenzied by the second.

"Oh!" Ginny screamed. Harry groaned, grunted, and squeezed Ginny's wrists, probably bruising them, but Ginny didn't care. She just held on harder with her legs, shaking with the force of both their climaxes.

When it was over, Harry lay beside Ginny. Both were panting. Harry's lower lip was bleeding where Ginny had bit it.

"That was amazing," Ginny breathed.

"After twenty years," Harry said, "at least that is the same."