AN: So many people have reviewed under the impression that the story is OVER that I decided to break my rule and update early in the morning. So THIS is the ENDING, not chapter ten.
Enjoy my somewhat short conclusion.
Chapter 11: I could not ask for more
Or, Epilogue
*
Hermione Potter stood at the window in the living room at Potter Manor. Her husband was upstairs, still asleep. She smiled as she remembered how she had left him a few minutes ago, lying on his side, his fingers wrapped inside the hand of their baby son. Sirius James Potter had come down with colic, and Harry had not wanted to leave him in the nursery all by himself. Hermione said Sirius would be fine, but knew better than to try and argue with Harry. He was very protective of their son, and, if truth be told, a little in awe of him. She would often catch Harry rocking little Sirius, staring at his face in wonder, as if he had never seen, or hoped for, anything quite so wonderful.
She took a sip of her tea and sank into the rocking chair that had once been Harry's mothers, but was now hers. She remembered vividly a scene from several years ago, when she had stroked Harry's hair as he sat with his head in her lap, when he had returned here in sixth year.
Then, he had been trying to find a way to leave this world without regrets. Now, he was happier than he had ever been, remaining in it.
For which she could not be more grateful.
She remembered that night, almost three years ago now, when Voldemort had kidnapped her, intending to force Harry to stand down if he didn't want her killed. She remembered the fear before Harry had arrived, fear that she would never see him again, and a small part of her wished she could stop loving him, could hate him for being the cause of this.
But only a small part, which she quickly silenced.
She knew then, that even if she died that night, that Harry would always know she had loved him, and that would be enough for her.
But neither she nor Harry died that night. The only one who died was someone who should have been killed years before. Tom Riddle had left this world cursing Harry's name, while Hermione knelt beside her fallen lover, trying to find the heartbeat in his neck, and felt her own heart stop when she couldn't feel it at first.
But then Harry took a breath, and Hermione knew she would never hear a sound so wonderful again in her life.
And she didn't, although she had to admit that Harry saying "I do" came pretty darn close.
She had worn Harry's mother's wedding dress, to save money, and because her own mother's dress was so plain in comparison, and because she could not have found anything better in a store. She had also worn a pair of glass shoes, which, despite being lovely and fitting well, hurt her feet after several hours.
Although, Harry pointed out as he took them off her aching feet later that night, he had a feeling they were probably designed for that.
Now Voldemort was dead, Harry was a hero, they were married, and Harry at last had a family.
A loud knocking interrupted her thoughts, and she went to answer the front door.
It was Sean, with his weekly load of firewood for the living room hearth.
"Good morning, missus. How's the little pit doing?"
Hermione smiled as she led Sean into the living room. Sean had nicknamed Sirius the `bottomless pit' because no matter how much he was fed, he always seemed to have room for more. Not that Sean had any real reason to complain, as this guaranteed there would never be leftovers at the Potter's house, and therefore a continuous need for his services. Even if Sirius couldn't finish everything by himself, Harry and Sirius together could.
"He's fine, just a little colicky. Harry let him stay in our bed last night. I think he's inherited Harry's mouth though, he's always burping up stuff."
Sean laughed. "Well, he had to get something from his father, Sirius ended up with your hair, so I think it all evens out."
"Unless you take into account that he has Harry's eyes."
A deep male voice interrupted. "But he has your adorable little pout, if you want to get technical."
Hermione turned to face the newcomer.
"Well, look who's finally decided to grace us with his presence." She said, grinning slyly at her husband.
Harry, dressed in a dark red bathrobe, was holding Sirius over his shoulder, while Sirius nibbled on his dad's hair. Harry winced.
"I'll go bald before my time if he keeps doing that."
Hermione took the baby from him and carried Sirius to the rocking chair. She pulled a bottle from the pocket of her own robe and gave it to Sirius, who sucked at it greedily.
Sean turned to leave. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Don't forget the trifle." Harry called to him, his eyes on his wife and son.
Harry stood in the doorway for several minutes after that, watching.
How different it was from when he came here years ago, looking to make his life complete before he died. He realized now how naïve he had been, to think that his life could possibly have been complete without this, his family. The girl, now a woman, whom he had known since he was eleven, was now his wife. His son, with the curly brown hair of his mother, and the emerald eyes of his father and grandmother, they were the most important things in his life, and he knew he would not trade them for anything.
Hermione, realizing she was being watched, looked up.
"Is something wrong?"
"No," Harry answered immediately. "Everything's perfect."
"Oh really?" she sounded skeptical. "Nothing missing? Everything just as it should be?"
He realized she was teasing him, but he answered seriously.
"Believe me, love, when I tell you this, because it is the one truth I have that makes my life perfect. I could not wish for more than what I have," he walked closer until he was standing behind the rocking chair, looking down at his son, and Hermione's face tilted up to him.
"And I could not ask for more than what you've given me."
FIN
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