Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Foreword: Well, I was honestly saddened by my previous story, "A Love Story That Never Began". Even I found myself moping after rereading it. To counter (and to appease my readers) that piece, I have this small story that I have written. I had no particular inspiration to write this, but I thought it came along nicely. I hope you enjoy reading this!

A Great Wizard Deserves the Brightest Witch

By Romantic Silence

The night was still.

It felt like the whole world had stopped. Not a thing stirred. It was hard to believe that only hours ago that one of the most evil beings of creation had been defeated and thus ushered a new age of peace, ending a war thought to have ended nearly two decades ago. There had been sacrifices. A family lost a son. A son lost a mother and father. A boy lost a brother. Too many good people died.

Harry couldn't sleep. He had left his bed in the boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower and aimlessly walked through the corridors, allowing his feet to lead him. He later found himself ascending the Astronomy Tower and resting his weary body against the railing of the tower's balcony. The skies were cloudless, enabling him to see the twinkling stars here in the Scottish countryside. The glow of the moon lit up the darkness, basking Harry in its light.

Footsteps echoed in the quiet tower behind Harry. He turned his head slightly to the side, glimpsing over his shoulder to see who it was. In the dim ray of light that flittered into the room, he caught sight of Hermione approaching. Her bedraggled form was apparent from the mess of her long hair, no longer the busy mane it had once been in years past.

"What are you doing up, Hermione?" he asked her softly.

A chuckle escaped her throat and she smiled at him.

"I could ask you the same question, Harry."

Harry shifted his weight to one side, subtly inviting Hermione to stand next to him. She took his invitation and slid into the open space next to him. Her hand found his, weaving her fingers around his own. Hermione stroked him tenderly with her thumb, settling herself to his side, resting her head upon his shoulder. Though surprised by her sudden closeness, Harry welcomed the soothing comfort of her touch. He had grown used to it over the years.

They stayed in silence together, neither of them talking. Harry listened to her soft breathing, something that may have been stopped over the course of the day earlier. No, it wasn't just today. It was the months when they had been on the hunt for the Horcruxes. Each day could have been the end for her and Harry was thankful that it never came. The loss of his best friend signified his end as well. And it wasn't just because his mission would have failed.

His thoughts soon shifted to their first year. Ron had been unconscious in the previous room, leaving only Hermione and Harry alone. He had been afraid, afraid to the point that he didn't know if he wanted to pass through the threshold that led to Voldemort. But it was Hermione's words that had given him the necessary motivation to move past his fears and do what was right.

There are more important things. Friendship. And bravery. And…

"Love." Harry gasped. "You were trying to say 'love'."

Hermione hummed softly, nodding her head. She lightly laughed, understanding what Harry was referring to. She travelled back to that more innocent time, back when she had just been a naïve, twelve-year-old girl smitten with the idea that she had the greatest best friend in the world. It was easy to say friendship and bravery, but though bold and straightforward as she was back then, Hermione had been embarrassed to say it.

"And love, Harry. It took me six years to say it, but I hope you aren't disappointed."

Harry grinned.

"How can I be?"

He could never be disappointed with Hermione. For all of her faults and strengths, Hermione was the only person he could ever unconditionally trust. He had been blind for years, never recognizing the strength of character Hermione truly possessed or that she had been the source of all his confidence to succeed and motivation to continue forward.

The months of tumultuous living had changed them and their relationship. Whatever innocence and wonder they had before they began their journey had mercilessly been destroyed. It was hard to retain it after being forced to see the worst in one another or to see the other nearly coming close to death numerous times. In the weeks when the two had truly been alone, charged moments shaped and molded them to become what they truly were in the following months after Ron's return.

But Harry couldn't recognize it then. Not just yet.

It had taken all of four words for him to realize that nothing could ever be the same again between them. But that realization came with a bittersweet feeling. To finally gain that recognition at the moment before you left to die had been cruel and unfair. However, it also gave him that final push to accept the destiny given to him. He would do anything to see her safe.

Yet he survived.

It was the reason for his insomnia. When he had made peace with leaving the world, he found himself thrust back to life. Where did that leave him now? He asked himself that continuously, leaving him to grow discontent into remaining in his bed.

I'll go with you.

Those four little words repeated over and over again his head. That had been Hermione's choice.

"Hermione," he called out to her shakily, "did you mean what you said? Were you really willing to go with me?"

Her answer was instantaneous, replying, "Since we first became friends, Harry."

"Then, will you come with me to be something more? We can live somewhere together… grow old…"

For that single moment, they were the only two in existence. No one else flittered into their thoughts. The battle had been forgotten. The destruction was ignored. The deaths of many were far from their mind. Instead, the culmination of their experiences together melded into this one and only instance.

"Yes."