Author's Note: After re-reading the already posted chapters, I felt that I should rewrite some parts and correct some punctuation mistakes. The plot didn't change, but there are some additions, especially in this prologue. I hope you enjoy, and don;t be shy to comment! :)

This is it. I did what I had to do. He is dead, and now it's forever.

All my life - for as long as I know my magical self - was devoted to hunting down and killing Voldemort, and now I did it, I feel that I must reward myself for the first time in seven years. How to do this is simple and she is just standing a dozen of yards away. She's waiting for me, I know she is; she has been waiting for too long and this is how I know she loves me.

I plunge myself in her direction. The sight of her beautiful red hair, waving around her head and gracefully skimming over her shoulders as she runs towards me, cannot make me happier; the way that she smiles makes my head spin; how her eyes seem to shine more whenever I approach her or whenever I glance in her direction. 'She's the one', my head screams as I reach in on her and lean for a long, victorious kiss.

'Oh, Harry,' she sighs as I break the kiss, 'Finally. We can be happy now.' The smile on her rose lips make my insides melt, make me accomplished.

'I'll never let you go, ever again,' I whisper back at her, hugging her closer to me. I close my eyes so that her heat fills my soul, but as soon as I open my eyes I acknowledge the destruction around us. Hogwarts, my only home, was in ruins, but I couldn't let that sight depress me so I chuckle at her and say, 'Look at what have we done just to be together...'

She looks around with a sad smile, and says, 'Yeah... But don't worry, it will be fixed in a blink of an eye. Now, let's just enjoy. We can finally be together, and nothing can take us apart.' She caresses my face sweetly and claims my lips for a kiss.

As we part the kiss, I can't but keep holding her in my arms. Her tiny body seemed to intertwine so perfectly with mine, and from this moment on I know that we're bound. Around us, I can hear people shouting and congratulating me, saying I'm their hero. I but don't really care about what other people think about me anymore: all I ever needed is right in my arms and - Merlin, forbid me - I can't even think of letting her go.

I look down at her and, still drunk with the heat of the moment, say, 'I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes to make you the happiest woman to ever walk on Earth. I'll make each moment count; I'll go wherever you need me to go; I'll do everything I couldn't do all these years I've kept you waiting. One day, you'll be Mrs. Potter.'

She stares right into my eyes and grins. 'You are amazing, Harry, and I have no doubt that you will make me feel great as long as you're beside me. But I also want to give you what no one gave to you before; I want to cater to all your wishes; I want to make you feel loved, not for what your name stands for, but for who you really are. I love you, Harry, and I promise you I'll always be there.'

As we lean forward for yet another kiss, a shaded woman's figure appears right in front of us, her wand pointing towards us. The universe seems to have stopped and the only moving characters, in this game called life, are the three of us. She starts walking towards us, her wand at the height of her eyes, and the last thing I see is a jet of green light, shot at both me and Ginny.

'No!'

Harry woke up in a sweat. Her scent flooded his nostrils and a feeling of guilt flooded his mind. The dream was so vivid, almost as if he was living that moment all over again - at least part of it. It was the third time in a row that dream invaded his sleep. The dream was always the same: he was standing with Ginny, making promises, when a woman's figure came to kill them. Why would he be dreaming about that? In the past, he learned that dreams can be a message from our conscience, that they can convey metaphors to explain the present. He was now starting to understand what the message could be: not all was going according to his plans. How could he have promised that - no - how could they have promised that to each other if they didn't have any idea of what the future reserved for them?

Reluctantly he got up and walked out of his bedroom. The promises he made to her were too important and he was letting them go. He had to see her, he had to talk to her, even though he knew he was walking out on her.