Unofficial Portkey Archive

Authors' note: Well, here it is…finally, right? Sorry for the delay, but my muse took a holiday for this one. I sincerely apologise for making you guys wait so long. But I hope you enjoy the chapter. I really did enjoy writing this story and can't believe that it has finally come to an end. I'm trying to think of something new to write and have a couple of ideas so you might see a new one from me coming up in the next couple of months. You guys are the best! Thanks to Heaven for the beta!

All I have is all I need
And it all comes down to you and me
How far away this world becomes
In the harbor of each other's arms

You know I'd go anywhere
As long as I have you to care

(Beth Nielsen Chapman---All I Have)

Three Years Later

Harry stood just outside the loo as he listened to his best friend retch. Ron hadn't been this ill since right before his first professional Quidditch match. Even more puzzling was the fact that his friend hadn't eaten anything all morning.

This from the bloke who's appetite and bottomless stomach was something of legend. Harry could still remember how Ron would stuff himself at Hogwarts feasts and how his friend had once eaten six large pizzas all on his own and had tried for a seventh but his mates had cut him off not able to watch anymore.

Ron wasn't like this because he was hung over or experiencing the ill effects of a stomach bug. No, Ron was nervous because in less than an hour's time, he would be a married man.

Seeing as Harry had been in Ron's shoes three years ago, he knew exactly what his friend was going through.

Thankfully, Dean Thomas chose that moment to come back into the room with a bottle of water and a vial of anti-nausea potion that Ginny had whipped up in a pinch. Dean winced as he heard Ron throwing up yet again.

"Maybe we should have an emergency bucket at the altar just in case," Dean suggested to Harry. "Probably wouldn't do for him to be in the middle of his vows and hurl all over the bride---"

"I HEARD THAT!" Ron shouted from the loo.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sure Ron's going to be just fine after he takes this." Harry opened the bathroom door and saw his friend hugging the u-bend. Ron was still wearing his t-shirt and jeans and his skin was quite pale and his hair was a mess.

"Here you go," Harry said uncapping the vial and handing it to Ron. "Drink up."

Ron took a whiff of the potion. He wondered why something that was supposed to prevent nausea should smell so bad that it made you feel like retching. The least Ginny could have done was make it smell nice like pumpkin juice.

"Drink," Harry ordered.

Ron nodded and did as he was told. The cool liquid tickled his throat.

"Good lad," Dean said standing in the doorway.

Ron leaned against the wall as the colour returned to his face and the sick feeling in his stomach started to go away.

"Ease up, Ron," Dean counselled. "You're going to be just fine. No need for cold feet."

Ron took a swig of water. "I don't have cold feet, Dean."

"Could have fooled me," Dean shot back.

"For your information," Ron said glaring at him. "I do want to marry Luna, you wanker. I'm just…bloody scared that I'm going to cock this up as I've done with every other girl I've dated. For all I know, she's probably sitting in her room wondering why she'd ever agreed to marry Ronald Sodding Weasley."

"You're probably right," Dean said thoughtfully.

Harry sighed. Usually it was Ron who played the role of the tactless friend saying the first thing that came to his mind without thinking it through beforehand. And while this usually provided comic relief, the last thing that Ron needed at a time like this was someone who was going to make him question what he was doing.

"Dean," Harry said taking charge of the situation. "Why don't you go and check on the vicar? Make sure everything's ready to go…"

"I think Ron's mum was doing---" Dean started to say, but he never got the chance t finish as Harry had pushed him out of the room.

"Thank you," Ron said reaching for his water bottle again. He stood up and walked over to the mirror and groaned when he saw how horrible he looked. "How much time do we have?"

"Forty-five minutes," Harry replied looking at his watch. "You should start getting ready, mate."

"Right," Ron nodded. He smiled at Harry. "Thanks."

Harry shrugged. "What else are best men for?"

"Best man," Ron said quietly. "Some might say the better man actually."

"Ron-"

Ron held up his hand. "It's true. I haven't always been such a great friend to you, Harry. And after what happened with Hermione-"

Harry felt a little uncomfortable talking about this. It had taken time for them to get back to how they were before Hermione had come into their lives. But they'd talked about it that night before Harry's wedding to Hermione and had make some sort of unspoken pact to not let it get in the way of their friendship again. And he and Hermione had even named Ron and Luna as their daughter's godparents.

"Water under the bridge now," Harry said to his friend.

"She's with who she was always meant to be with," Ron said stoically. "She and I fought way too much and when I had her, I didn't realise what a great girl she was and I did everything I could to screw it up. I guess I'm saying all this because being with Luna has made me see how everything happens for a reason. I mean, there's a reason why Hermione and I didn't work out and there's a reason why she found you when she did. "

Harry grinned. "Turned my life upside down."

"And it brought you back here," Ron said. "And for that, I'm thankful."

"Me too," Harry agreed. He and Ron didn't usually do this---talk about their feelings. Usually, they talked about going to the pub or the latest Quidditch news. Regular bloke chat.

"And now that I've said all that philosophical crap, I guess I should get ready," Ron said with a grin. "I'm getting married to Loony Lovegood."

Harry laughed. "Ron, I probably wouldn't call her that during your vows."

"You're probably right," Ron said thoughtfully.

"I'm always right," Harry retorted before leaving the room.

******

Hermione finished putting her daughter's hair up in a pretty twist and walked her over to the mirror so the little girl could see.

"What do you think, baby?" Hermione asked.

Isabelle beamed at her reflection and clapped her little hands together. She was going to be Ron and Luna's flower girl and she was so excited about carrying the basket of rose petals.

Isabelle Elizabeth Potter was two and a half years old going on twenty, as her grandparents liked to say. She had her mother's brown curls and her father's green eyes. Her most favourite thing in the world was to have someone read to her. Her eyes would light up whenever someone would offer to read her a story. And at bedtimes, she always made a point of picking the thickest book for her bedtime story.

And even though she was way too young to be able to read herself, she insisted that she could do it and would sometimes take over the storytelling. This usually resulted in her combining one or two or even three fairy tales into one big story.

She didn't just love to read though. She enjoyed sport and loved to play catch. And she also loved to fly. Her father hadn't told her mother about how he sometimes took her up in the sky with him. Hermione's fear of flying was well-known and she'd insisted that no child of hers would ever fly because her heart just couldn't take it.

But, Harry had taken Isabelle for a few broom rides when Hermione was at work and the little girl loved every single moment she was up in the sky. She loved the way the wind felt on her cheeks and how it blew her hair back. Most of all, she loved spending time with her father and feeling his arms wrapped protectively around her as he flew then higher and higher in the sky.

It was important to Harry and Hermione that their daughter grow up living a normal childhood. They'd kept Hermione's pregnancy a secret as long as they could. It helped being ensconced in the walls of Hogwarts. But, it wasn't too long before the media got wind of the news. The Prophet had story after story about the Potter baby watch. They had reporters and photographers camped out at St. Mungo's lying in wait for the time when Hermione was brought in to have the baby.

Their wait though was in vain.

Isabelle was born on Isla Solarte away from the prying eyes of the Wizarding world. She'd been premature---arriving nearly a month before her due date. She spent the first two weeks of her life in the small beach cottage where her parents had met. That was one of the happiest times of Harry and Hermione's life as they took care of their daughter without having to worry about the media, or their jobs or anything like that. This was their secret, special place that only a handful of friends and family knew about. This was their safe haven.

They'd gone back to Hogwarts toward the end of August and settled back into their everyday routine. A nanny watched the baby while both her parents were teaching classes. She was growing up as normal as could be expected and all that Harry and Hermione wanted was for her to be healthy and happy.

"Pretty," Isabelle said softly.

"I'll say," Harry said from the doorway. His daughter and wife turned and smiled when they saw him.

"Daddy!" Isabelle squealed running toward him. Well, running as best she could in her pretty light blue flower-girl's dress.

"Who is this pretty princess?" Harry asked picking her up. "I don't recognise my sweet little Belle."

Isabelle giggled and gave her father a kiss.

"How's he doing?" Hermione asked.

"Nervous," Harry replied. "But we gave him something for his stomach and I think he'll be okay."

Hermione smiled. "Luna's practically floating on cloud nine. Wait until Ron sees her in her dress. He's going to swoon."

Harry couldn't help smiling back at his wife. He could remember how he had felt when he'd seen her coming down the aisle toward him. And he can still remember how he felt when she'd told him shortly after they'd been pronounced husband and wife that she was going to have a baby.

"There's that, but there's something I need to tell you," she said biting her bottom lip.

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. She only did that when she was nervous. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's nothing bad," she assured him. "I just wanted to tell you…"

"You've changed your mind?" Harry interjected.

She shook her head. "No, of course not!"

"What is it then?" he asked. "You're scaring me."

Hermione took Harry's hands in hers. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that…well, I'm pregnant."

"Just tell me," Harry said. "Whatever it is…hang on….did you just say…"

Hermione nodded. "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby. You're going to be a daddy."

He didn't say anything straightaway. He was shocked. They'd talked about someday starting a family, but he figured that would be a few years down the road. They were still getting used to their schedules at Hogwarts.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He finally managed to say.

"You heard me right?" she asked hopefully. "We're going to have a baby. I'm just a little over two months along."

He still didn't say anything so Hermione kept going.

"I was feeling a little peaked these past few weeks, but I thought it was a touch of the flu or maybe the stress of planning the wedding," Hermione said. "And I went to see the healer and she said that…well, that we were going to have a baby."

"Baby," Harry said quietly.

Hermione nodded. "I'm due in August. It's too soon to tell what we're going to have. To tell you the truth, I like the idea of being surprised, but if you want to find out---"

Her words trailed off as her new husband walked away from her and looked out the window of the church. She hadn't expected this type of reaction. Truth be told, she'd been shocked when she'd found out the news, but the shock had quickly given way to a wave of happiness.

"Harry, please say something," Hermione said coming up behind him.

Lavender walked into the room. "Hi, guys! The photographer's waiting---"

"We're going to need a moment," Hermione said to her best friend.

Lavender nodded. "Right."

They were alone again and Hermione put her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Please look at me," Hermione said pleadingly.

He hesitated a few moments before finally turning and looking properly at his wife.

"What is it?" Hermione asked gently. "You're happy about this, right?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "I just-"

"What?"

"I just don't know if I'm the best bloke in the world to be a father…"

Hermione stared at him. "Why would you think something like that?"

"I don't know," Harry said with a shrug. "I lost my father at one. I grew up with the worst possible father figure on the planet. You really so sure that I'm going to-"

Hermione held her hand up. "Yes, I do think you're going to be a great father. I've seen you with the children at school. And I know who you are on the inside. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met despite all that you went through. And there's no one else I'd rather have a family with than you."

"Really?"

"Yes," Hermione said smiling up at him. "You idiot---I just married you, didn't I?"

Harry nodded. "I am an idiot. And I am very, very happy about this, Hermione. A baby…"

Before Hermione could say anything, Harry had picked her up and spun her around. The long train of her dress was snaking around him and she was worried that he might get tangled up in it and drop her. "Harry!"

"Sorry," Harry said grinning from ear to ear. "Just a little happy is all."

"A little happy?"

Harry kissed her. "Extremely, ecstatically happy."

She laughed as Harry carried her out of the chapel and into the reception hall where their guests were waiting. "This is completely barbaric, you know," Hermione whispered in his ear.

"I know," Harry said still grinning as their friends and family clapped enthusiastically. "But you love it."

Harry winked at his wife as he set Isabelle back down. She toddled over to the table where her basket of flowers sat.

"She's really excited," Hermione whispered to her husband. "She barely slept last night…"

"And you wouldn't let her sleep in her dress," Harry teased. Their daughter had fallen in love with her flower girl's dress the moment she'd laid eyes on it. She'd wanted to wear it to sleep last night. Unfortunately for her parents, Isabelle had inherited her parents' stubbornness. Hermione had finally managed to talk her out of it by telling her that by sleeping in the dress it would get all wrinkly and wouldn't be as "sparkly".

"I know," Hermione said grinning at him. "I know. I know."

They watched their daughter as she practiced her walk down the aisle. Isabelle did a little twirl as she reached her father.

"You've got moves, Belle," Harry said proudly.

Harry mimicked her movements which caused both Hermione and Isabelle to laugh.

"I think you should try that at the reception," Hermione said.

"And give Ron any more ammunition?" Harry asked. "I don't think so."

Isabelle tugged on her father's arm. "Fly?"

Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye the expression on his wife's face, but he chose to ignore it. She didn't miss a thing, his wife.

"Fly!" Isabelle exclaimed again. "Up high in sky!"

"What are you talking about, baby?" Hermione asked.

"On broom," Isabelle replied happily. "With Daddy!"

"What?" Hermione asked looking back and forth between her daughter and husband.

"Like lass time,' Isabelle babbled. "High Sky!"

Hermione turned and leveled her gaze at her husband. "Like. Last. Time?"

"Kids, eh?" Harry asked giving out a nervous laugh.

"You've taken her flying?"

"Once," Harry said sheepishly. His wife was still staring at him. "Okay, maybe twice…but it was just a couple of feet off the ground."

"High," Isabelle chimed in.

"Harry James Potter," Hermione admonished.

"Do you hear that?" Harry asked. "I think I hear Ron calling. You know…a best man's job never ends… see you, Belle…"

With that, Harry beat a hasty retreat out of the room leaving a grinning Isabelle and a frowning Hermione in his wake.

"Daddy's silly," Isabelle said looking up at Hermione.

"I thought that the first time I met him," Hermione said picking her daughter up. "Come on you, let's go watch Uncle Won-Won get married."

*******

The wedding went off pretty much without a hitch. Ron's worries did melt away the moment he saw his bride walking toward him looking every bit like an ethereal angel. And from the moment they'd been pronounced husband and wife, he'd not let go of her hand.

Isabelle was a hit too as the congregation grinned when the little girl slowly made her way down the aisle dropping her rose petals just as her mother had told her.

"Ronald," Luna said as they danced their first dance as husband and wife. "I'm so happy…"

"Me too," Ron said holding her close.

"I cannot wait until we're alone," Luna said dreamily.

"We're alone now," Ron pointed out. "On the dance floor…"

"You know what I mean," Luna whispered in his ear.

"Oh," Ron said grinning down at her. "That…"

Luna giggled. "Yes, THAT."

"We don't have to eat dinner," Ron said thoughtfully. "And who needs to cut cake…"

"You're actually turning down dinner?" Luna asked incredulously. "It must be love…"

"Priorities," Ron said. "It's all about priorities."

As he danced with his wife, he couldn't believe how far he'd come. Truth be told, he didn't deserve someone like Luna. But for some unexplainable reason, she loved him and for her, he wanted to be a better man.

As he spun his wife around, he caught the eye of Harry and Hermione who smiled back at him. Things hadn't turned out like any of them had planned, but in the end it didn't really matter. This was where they were meant to be and this is where they hoped to stay.

Harry turned to his wife. "Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"

Hermione turned away from him. "I'm supposed to be cross with you…"

"Come on," Harry said tapping her on the shoulder, but she didn't budge. "You know I wouldn't let anything happen to Belle."

"I know," Hermione admitted.

"And I was going to tell you about taking her up---"

"I know," Hermione said finally turning to face him.

"And you really, really want to dance with me…"

Hermione finally smiled at him. "I know…"

"So all is forgiven?"

"For now," Hermione said before leaning in and giving him a kiss. "I love you, you know."

"I know," Harry said before leading her out to the dance floor. "I love you, too."