Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry, Ron, Hermione and my soul. Please don't sue me.

Unable to drift off to sleep, the Almost-Sister rolls over onto her back and looks across the room to the red-haired girl she is sharing the room with. It had been a few years since she had slept in here but before that it had been her room for many weeks throughout her teens. The Older Girl reminisces for a while about times that were spent laughing and gossiping in here with The Younger Girl. At the time it had all been naive pipe dreams and fantasy but in a few hours it would all be realised. Her dreams were coming true.

Giving up on sleep, The Friend slips out of bed and, careful not to wake The Not-So-Secret Admirer, heads downstairs.

When she reaches the kitchen she is surprised to see The Saviour of The Wizarding World sat at the old, wooden table with a mug of tea in his hands. They smile at each other when she approaches him.

"Can't sleep?" he asks his saviour, setting his nearly empty mug down.

"No," she replies as she takes the chair opposite him, "but for happier reasons than normal," she adds, unable to hide her growing smile.

He pours them each a cup of tea and they sit there thinking of everything and nothing, of yesterday, tomorrow and all the days that will follow. There is so much to say but neither of them breaks the comfortable silence around them. Besides, their conversations have long since needed words to be spoken aloud.

"Fancy a walk?" The Ever Cautious One asks, as she swills out the now empty mugs and places them upside down on the draining board.

"It's 3 am and we're in pyjamas," points out The Reckless One with a slight chuckle.

"It doesn't matter," replies The Logical One. "It's the middle of June; it's warm outside. Plus, like you said, it's 3am, so no one will see us."

Finally, he relents and they make their way outside into the slightly stuffy air. As they pad along the garden, the slight breeze tickles them in their thin clothes. They start heading towards the giant marquee that currently dominates the large garden despite neither of them mentioning a destination.

The Scrawny Boy With Broken Glasses eyes the marquee wearily. "We shouldn't really go in there, should we?"

"Don't be silly," The Bossy Buck-Toothed Girl says. "It's fine."

Upon entering the marquee they both stop short when they see that another person has already beaten them there. The Boy With Dirt On His Nose is stood in the middle of the aisle, between a hundred or so chairs and spins around to see who has disturbed him. A sheepish grin makes its way onto his face.

"Checking George didn't add any last minute decorations," says The Brother with a shrug.

"I'm sure he wouldn't do that," assures The Only Child, taking the remaining steps towards him.

"I wouldn't bet on it," counters the Bullied Cousin as he joins the other two.

The Champion looks around at the simply decorated marquee. The Unexpected Beauty gazes out of the entrance to the glowing full moon, while The Jealous Boy only has eyes for her.

"Did you ever think this day would come?" The Broken-Hearted Girl asks the night.

"Yes," The Confused Boy replies automatically.

"No," scoffs The Eternal Middleman at the same time.

The other two turn round to glare at him, affronted, a sight so familiar that he almost laughs.

"It is a bit fairy tale for us, don't you think?" reasons The Hero.

"What have fairies got to do with anything?" questions The Man Raised By Wizards while the other two smile.

"Not actual fairies," explains The Teacher. "Children's stories. Happily ever afters."

"Hero gets the girl," adds The Hero with a smirk.

"Nah. Hero lost that one," smiles The Sidekick, wrapping his arm around The Girl's waist. "The sidekick got the girl."

"I think you'll find the girl got the sidekick," The Girl says to her hero with her eyebrows raised.

They all share a laugh because they know, and always have known, that it doesn't matter who kissed who first, as long as the other kissed back. It doesn't matter who held who as long as the other one doesn't let go.

The Grieving Brother straightens his faces and looks sombrely around once more. "It's weird to think what's happened since there was a tent here last."

The Boy Who Came Back To Life nods and The Torture Victim joins him in silent contemplation. There was no need to talk, not now. They know each other's past, they are the others' present… but none of them knows the future. As the sky starts to show the first sign of dawn they all arrive at the same thought.

"Tomorrow changes everything, doesn't it?" whispers The Bride.

"Changes what?" queries The Groom.

"Us," The Bride answers, gesturing to the triangle they all form.

"Not really," shrugs The Best Man. "After everything we've been through our group dynamic hasn't really changed."

"Look," says The Tactless One in what he thinks is a reassuring voice, "it's just a bit of parchment, some jewellery and a few words-"

"Excuse me?" snaps The Sweet Tempered Girl. "A few words? This is our wedding day you're talking about!"

"I didn't mean that!" back-tracks The Champion Backtracker. "I mean, it's obviously more than that to us, loads more, but I don't see how it would affect him!"

"You wouldn't. It's something he can never be a part of," explains The Celebrated Know It All. "I know we've had secrets and things before but this is different! It's like we're excluding him."

"Are you saying you want him on the honeymoon?" jests The Joker.

"Don't be ridiculous," replies the girl scathingly while the boys start laughing.

"Nothing has changed in 10 years, even after everything," laughs The Head Mediator. "Me and you," he says pointing to his team mate, "are still going to talk about Quidditch all the time. We," he continues, pointing to the one with a similar upbringing, "are still going to explain Muggle stuff to him and you two are going to bicker like you always did."

He pauses for a moment while the other two consider his words.

"It is a big day. It is life changing," he says. "But how many big, life changing days have we had already? We will still be us."

"We can't know that," worries The Girl Who Knows Everything, looking sadly at the ground.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine as long as I hide my resentment over you choosing him over me," smiles The Chosen One, trying to cheer her up.

"He's right. Well, not about that I hope, but the other thing," says The Boy With The Emotional Range Of A Teaspoon to the woman he grew to love. "Yeah, I'll be wearing a ring and you'll have a different signature but you're still going to be a walking library. He is still going to be a moody git and I'm still going to be incredibly handsome and extremely famous."

The extremely famous moody git snorts.

The Girl takes one of each of the boys' hands (one cupped, one fingers laced) and gives them each a small smile.

"Well, we have made it 10 years together," says the first best friend.

"I reckon we've got another 10 left in us, at least," says the second best friend.

"As long as they aren't as dramatic as the last 10 years," says the third best friend.

The three of them stand up and, hands still held, make their way back to the house. They have overcome horrors other couldn't imagine and worked through problems that everyone could relate to. Though everything around them may have shifted, mutated and been destroyed completely only to be rebuilt, they each remained a third of an unbeatable unit with an indescribable bond. Nothing was going to change that.

And as they reached the second floor landing, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley wished Hermione Granger goodnight for the final time.