Happy Ever After

Pearl Drop Angel

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 15/08/2005
Last Updated: 21/08/2005
Status: completed

Harry feels as though Ginny wants to pressure him into marriage. After a conversation shared with Hermione about it, he finds out that she feels stuck in her relationship with Ron, and he realises that he wishes to give her the happily ever after she wants and deserves.

Chapters

1. Part 1: A Conversation between so called friends

2. Strangers separating

3. Happy Ever After

1. Part 1: A Conversation between so called friends

Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue. Won't get much out of it anyway.

Sorry for the long time away people, but life sucks so I couldn't do anything about it. As for BoNM I'm hitting a brick wall with it, so I'm taking a few days away to write this three parter, just to cheer myself up from the happenings in HBP (I wanna cry!). Good thing we have fanfiction! Thanks to J Choo who betaed, and to Michelle (Madame of Sarcasm) who would have, had her mail read the file I sent.

Hope you enjoy, and remember to review.

Happily Ever After

By Pearl Drop Angel

Chapter 1: A conversation between so called friends

"So, Harry, when are you going to make an honest woman out of Ginny?" Harry Potter turned around, finding himself face to face with his old friend from school, Neville Longbottom, who worked some floors above him in the Research of Magical Flora Office.

Harry wasn't able to suppress a sigh. "She's been talking to you too then?"

"Yeah, she likes to visit me at the office to chat sometimes," Neville explained, unable to hide a slight blush. "She's really itching for it!"

"Yeah, I know," and with that he walked through his open office door, giving Neville a feeble excuse, and slamming the door strongly behind him. Sighing again, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to calm his nerves.

"That bad, Harry?" A kind feminine voice asked from his desk. He opened his eyes to find his best friend of twelve years leaning against his desk, several scrolls in hand.

"Hey, Hermione," he saluted half heartedly, moving to his station and slumping behind the desk. He would generally give her a warmer welcome, especially since they had managed to meet very little over the last few weeks, but he was just so tired. He had to admit, though, it made him feel much better to have her near. Smiling at her he asked, "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I've got the results on those Muggle haters that attacked those three tube stations last week," she said, handing him the scrolls she was holding.

"Thanks, but you could have owled them," he told her, taking the files, "It's a pretty long way to come."

"Well, I also thought that you might like to talk to a friend that doesn't want to know why you're not proposing to his little sister," she explained, taking a seat across from his.

"He told you that?" Harry asked, looking deeply into her eyes. "He didn't say anything to me. I thought he might have been against it."

"Oh, Harry," she laughed kindly, "is that why you're holding back? Because you think he'd be against it?"

"No," he shook his head quickly, "but I did want to know what he thought of the whole situation."

She squared him for a while before answering. "You know perfectly well that he's been hoping for it. Ever since the end of fifth year he's had this picture in his head where he and I get married, so do you and Ginny, and we all become one big happy Weasley family."

Harry gave an empty heartless chuckle. "He might not be far off in the end."

"I don't think so," she said quietly, averting her eyes to look at the enchanted window behind him.

Harry didn't know if she was referring to him or herself.

"You know, Harry," she turned back to him, "I always thought you'd be a family man, once everything with Voldemort was over."

"How do you mean?" He asked confused.

Hermione shrugged, smiling ruefully. "It's just...well, you've always dreamed of a family, ever since I've known you, and I always pictured you to be the first to start a family in our class, because you wished for it so much. When you first started going out with Ginny in sixth year, it was like watching you step into what I'd pictured, you two were perfect," she laughed, "almost too much! I was, of course, incredibly jealous of what you had at the time, especially considering how Ron and I were, but you were so happy together it was almost too sweet for decency."

Harry laughed, just as confused as before. "What?"

"In short, Harry," she switched to extremely blunt comments, remembering how daft her boys could be, "you were so cute and sweet you used to give people, myself above all, toothaches. Oh, and my ears still hurt when I remember Lavender and Parvati's squeals."

"Yeah, I remember those."

"So what changed, Harry?" She asked seriously.

"Er--" Harry began uncertainly, "what?"

"What changed?" She repeated. "I know you broke it off at the funeral, because you thought it would make her too much a target, but there was promise that once Voldemort would be defeated, you'd go back to what it was before."

"Yeah, and we did," Harry replied, "first thing I did when I got up was kiss her, remember? You were there."

"Yes," Hermione answered without hesitation, "but it wasn't the same."

He looked at her for a long time. Finally, he leaned back, sighed, and began massaging the bridge of his nose again. He knew that if he told her he didn't wish to talk about it she wouldn't force him to, but maybe he did wish to talk about it. "I don't know, Hermione. It's hard to talk about it, but..." he chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words. "Sometimes I get the feeling that she doesn't care about me. Not like I think she should."

He'd expected her to say that he was being stupid, and paranoid, and that Ginny loved him, but she remained quiet, staring at him intently.

"Why do you think that?"

He shrugged, trying to make it look as though it didn't bother him. "I don't know. I mean, we have fun together, and she does like me, and she doesn't stare at my scar, but...I don't know, I just feel like she's making herself think she fancies me more than she actually does." He shook his head to clear it, before going on. "You remember how a couple of months ago we were attacked when I picked her up from work one night?"

"Of course," she told him quickly. She'd been so scared when she heard that he'd ended up in St Mungo's again, and he hadn't even been on assignment. Ginny had come out of it unharmed, and neither ever explained what happened.

"When those wizards raised their wands on her, she didn't move a finger. She just stood there, and watched me while I took care of them, and she stood in the middle, so I had to shield her with my body."

"But..." Hermione looked at him strangely, "she was in the DA and she has some great hexes up her sleeves! She knows how to defend herself perfectly."

"Exactly," he replied, "and a couple days later she started talking about marriage." He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his hair in frustration. "You want to know what I think?" She nodded, vigorously, even though she was working her bottom lip with her teeth in earnest, a sure sign that she was trying to come up with an answer to that herself. "It was a test," he said, holding his breath, and waiting for Hermione to tear apart this theory.

He heard her inhale, the way she did right before a long lecture, but it seemed to have died in her throat. She raised two fingers to her chin and began drumming on it while she kept worrying her lip, deep in thought. "What kind of test?"

"Forget it," Harry said, averting his eyes as he lost resolve, "you'd just think I'm crazy."

"Harry, look at me," her tone of voice would not accept refusal. He looked at her. "Have I ever thought you crazy?" He stared at her. "I never did. Reckless and overzealous at times, but I never doubted you."

He nodded feeling ashamed, his hands tugging nervously at his hair. "I think she was testing her hero," he told her, before elaborating. "You remember that until fifth she never even spoke to me, but she always fancied me. Because I was Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, I saved her life in second year, and I was Triwizard Champion, and all that."

"Yes, Harry, but she changed," Hermione objected.

"Did she?" Harry asked, looking lost. "I thought she did, too, but now that I think back on things, I don't know anymore. I don't know if she wants to marry me, or just Harry Potter, the Boy Who Slayed Voldemort. Her hero."

"How long has this been bothering you?"

He shrugged again. "Since she started talking about marriage after the attack, but...well, it wasn't like it was just starting to bother me. It was more like I just realized that it has. I don't know what to think anymore."

"Is there more to it?" She asked perceptibly.

He looked at her, nodding meekly. "You know how she's always fighting to show her independence?" Hermione nodded, knowing that Ginny was nearly as bad as she was. "Well, she's not like that with me. Remember how she used to get mad at Dean while they were going out because he used to help her through the portrait hole?" Again, Hermione nodded. "Well, now, she bites my head off if I don't! Says I'm not as chivalrous toward her as I should be, and I'm completely confused!"

He turned his chair around to look at the charmed window displaying annoyingly perfect weather. "And there is one thing I've been thinking about a lot."

"What?" Her tone of voice was tired now, as though she'd heard enough, but thought she should go to the bottom of it.

He turned back to her. "At Dumbledore's funeral I told her we had to break up because I had to do what I had to do alone, and she just accepted it. She stayed the whole time of the war either at Hogwarts or at the Burrow with Molly. I was glad of it, that's what I wanted, for her to not get involved."

"But?" His friend prompted.

"I keep remembering that when we went to the Department of Mysteries, she refused to stay behind, like you and Ron did. I mean, when we're just friends she stands by me, and then when we're more she stays behind waiting for my return, and it's been that way since, and lately, I've been thinking that it might mean something." He was speaking more to himself than he was to her, now, as though saying his worries aloud solidified them. "I keep thinking that if she had to go on a dangerous quest that might very well take her life, I'd stay by her, no matter what, even if I couldn't do anything to help. You don't even understand how much the fact that you and Ron stayed by me helped me when preparing for the War, and then, I know that you wouldn't have let Ron go either if it had been him in my place, and looking back, I feel like the point where we are now is exactly the one she was aiming for."

"And what's that?"

He sighed again. "You know what she said to me after I told her we had to stop at the funeral?" Hermione shook her head no. "She said: 'it's for some stupid noble thing, isn't it?' But the thing is, she said like she was expecting it, hoping for it, almost like she was happy it came."

"So why didn't you ask about it then, before things got to this point?" She was genuinely confused.

"You know what they say, hindsight always is 20/20. Back then I was so hooked, I didn't start thinking about it for years, and only now it seems clear," he told her, taking off his glasses to rub his face in both hands. "And I don't know what to do, or what to say to her." And for some reason, Harry wished that she would tell him to break it off with Ginny and that there were plenty of other women better for him in the world, and, for some damned reason, an image popped before his eyes of Hermione and himself in a much beyond platonic embrace, that, for some reason, roused the old creature within him that had been dormant for years. He'd thought he'd outgrown it a long time ago, but maybe he was just realizing that there was nothing of his current relationship that interested it in the least.

He shook his head fiercely. This was wrong, the creature shouldn't have been responding to Hermione of all people, and definitely not so strongly. It seemed like it was stretching languorously and purring loudly at her. And Harry wanted to slaughter it. This was wrong, and, in any case, she was with Ron. The beast roared angrily at him for that.

"Harry?" her voice seemed so distant. "Harry, did you hear a word I'd said?"

Blinking his eyes quickly to return the focus on her, he realized one thing as he looked at her. She was beautiful. In the most perfect of ways to him. And he found his breath lodged in his throat. He felt as though the beast had jumped out of his chest and slapped him tartly across the face, implanting a simple truth that he had completely ignored till now deeply into his mind. Hermione had been the one person that had stayed by him always, never asking for anything in return. She was the one he turned to whenever he had reason to, and often when he didn't. She was the one that lightened his dark days and kept his head on his shoulders, and excepted him for who he was, not what he was, and didn't resent him for it.

And he was in love with her.

But she belonged to Ron.

"Harry, are you alright?" She was standing up now, and moving toward him, and for the world of him, he felt as though he was seeing her for the first time, and he hated it. It was like all those times in school when the answer was right under their noses, and they realized it just a second too late. And it was too late.

"I'm fine," Harry spoke finally, his voice sounding distant, even to his own ears. "Just realized something obvious is all. What were you saying?"

Hermione seemed to want to debate what he'd said, but decided against it. "I was just saying that maybe you shouldn't rush any decisions. You're both my friends, and you've been together so long, and if you do something brash you might regret it."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Well," she began apprehensively, "I think you two should talk, but it might be better to do it away from here. I reckon you should get away for a while and go somewhere a little more relaxing, you see, and try and get reacquainted with each other. When people are together for a long time they start to forget why they were even together in the first place, you know? I think you both need to remember that."

"So," Harry began slowly, "you're saying we should take a vacation?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, it doesn't have to be a long one; even a couple of days would be fine. It's worked for Ron and I more than once."

"It has?"

She smiled half heartedly. "I could pass you some great venues, too."

He sighed again, rubbing his face. To be honest, the idea of spending a few days alone with Ginny now that he realized how he felt for Hermione didn't rouse him at all, but maybe that's exactly what he needed. Maybe what he was feeling for his best friend was just temporary insanity and he should get away for a while just to get himself a grip, and possible slaughter the creature that had suddenly come back to life. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Who knows? Maybe Ron really will get his big happy Weasley family."

Hermione's smile flickered, before disappearing altogether. "I don't think so."

"Why, is something wrong between you two?" He wanted to kick himself for letting that thread of hope pass through his voice, and he really did want to kill that beast for perking up inside him.

"Not wrong, no," she denied quickly, "it's just...oh! You'll think me stupid if I tell you!"

"Nonsense!" He responded heatedly. "I'd never think you stupid!" How could he?

When she blushed at his vehemence, the beast started doing the can-can. "Well, it's just, it's not that there's anything wrong, but it doesn't feel right either. I mean, Ron and I've been together for almost four years now, and we do care about each other, but we still bicker the way we used to when we were in school, even worse actually, and he still loses his head whenever a pretty woman walks by. Can you believe that whenever Fleur's over he still trips over himself for just a kiss on the cheek? Granted, I couldn't expect anything else from Ron, but still, that's not how I wanted it."

"Wanted what?"

She looked at him, as though wondering whether or not to tell him, and breathed in a deep sigh, bracing herself. "The Happily Ever After," she pushed out in a rush. "I know I'm supposed to be the rational one all the time, the one who's got her feet well grounded, but, if I can have magic in my life why can't I have that, you know?"

Harry found himself smiling. "Really?"

"Oh, I knew you'd laugh at me!" she exclaimed, hiding her face in her hands, thing that Harry found incredibly endearing. He really needed to stop thinking like that.

"No, I'm not laughing," he told her quickly, "I'm just surprised." He watched her take her hands down slowly, giving him a suspicious look. "Did you talk about this to Ron?"

"No, of course not, why would I?" She asked rhetorically. "It wouldn't matter because it would go right over his head, and, in any case, I wouldn't want him to change the way he is, and that's what he'd try to do if I did. And it's not like I'm expecting to marry Prince Charming or anything."

"So, what are you expecting?"

"Nothing!" Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Okay, something, but it's not as impossible as it seems! When I say I want a Happily Ever After I don't mean that I want to be swept off into the sunset by my knight in shining armour! I just...you know, want him to remember my birthday and our anniversary and have a nice quiet but not boring life where we don't argue much and get to raise a family together. That's not too much, is it?" Harry shook his head no, silently thinking that it would really be enough for him as well, if he could get it. "It's just that Ron's not at that point yet, and I don't know if he ever will."

He nodded, rubbing his face again. "Well, I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, giving him a radiantly sweet smile. "I'll do the same for you." She stood up, heading for the door. "I'll let you get back to work now."

“Yeah, that'd be best;" he picked up the scrolls that she brought. "Thanks for bringing these."

"No problem," she said, turning for the door.

"And thanks for the advice," he added.

She gave him one of her pleased radiant smiles that set his monster somersaulting, and left him with a simple "You're welcome," while he found himself wishing that the vacation he was about to plan would be with her and not with his current girlfriend who was trying to force him into a marriage he now realized he didn't want.

To be continued.

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2. Strangers separating

Disclaimer: Don't owe, don't sue.

Just as a note of warning, this has not been read by betas, so please overlook any possible mistakes. I'm not at all happy with the way things went in this, but I wanted to post before I left on vacation on Sunday. Expect the next instalment in about 12 hours ^_^'.

Anyway, this was my attempt at showing how people who no longer love each other end up going their own way…and it's not very pretty.

Happy Ever After

Chapter 2: Strangers separating

Harry sighed as he stepped through the door of the cabin he'd rented for the weekend--on Hermione's suggestion. They'd only been here a few short hours, and Ginny was already becoming disagreeable. He still didn't know what he'd done wrong this time. He was about to call out to tell her he was back, but he sighted her before he could, kneeling in front of the hearth with her head hidden behind a curtain of green flames, her hands beating the ground and making rather infuriated images. What was she so roused up about?

Thinking that he needed to find out, he pulled an extendable ear from his pocket and threw it expertly in the flames, in a corner where it would very likely not be seen.

"--the whole thing seemed so promising you know?" he heard his girlfriend explaining in a very exasperated tone. "A vacation just the two of us in an isolated place, but instead of being romantic, what does he do? He asks if I want to go take a walk with him to explore the area!" Harry stared at Ginny's hands hammering on the floor. What? Was that why she was mad? Because he'd suggested they go explore?

"Ginny," he heard a familiar voice sigh in return. A voice that perked the little dormant monster right up. Hermione. Great, Ginny was talking to Hermione. Just what he needed. "Didn't you think Harry was trying to be romantic? You know how he loves any kind of adventure, right? He did become an Auror after all. Don't you see that he was trying to share that with you? Of have fun with you?" Merlin, she knew him so well!

"I don't care, Hermione!" She replied viciously. "I'm tired of waiting, I want him to propose and I want him to do it quickly!" Harry held back an irritated growl, that the beast inside him didn't bother hiding.

For a moment there was silence, and, finally, Hermione asked, with a little suspicion in her voice, "Why are you so anxious for this?"

"Because, Hermione!" she exclaimed as though it were obvious. "I've been his girlfriend long enough! I want to be his wife, now, I should be already! I thought he was going to pop the question right after the war, and instead it's been years, and we're not even living together!"

"Ginny! Haven't you thought about what Harry might be feeling at all?" Hermione's voice was rising quickly, her already short patience broken. "Didn't you stop to think once that maybe he doesn't fell ready, or that he wants to consider this a little more thoroughly? You're talking about marriage, you know, it's something serious. Maybe he doesn't want to rush into it! And you, sitting there, getting mad at him for it is not going to speed this up! He hates when people push him into things, you know that! Look at what you're doing! If you stopped pestering him for one minute about it maybe he'd eventually ask you on his own, but your insistence is only making things worse! You should know all this; you've been his girlfriend for five years now!" The last had been shouted, and it seemed to stun Ginny.

He could have kissed Hermione.

"Did he tell you this?" Ginny finally asked, some venom coming through in her voice.

"He didn't need to," Hermione's tone was clipped, and a little accusing. "Everywhere he goes there are people asking him when he'll ask you, and it's really grating on his nerves."

"Who told you that lie!" the redhead sounded outraged.

"Nobody told me!" oh, she was genuinely angry now. "And I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!"

"Oh, yeah, and when did you see this?"

"Just the other day!" Hermione yelled. "I brought some things to Harry's floor and I saw three people, including Neville Longbottom, asking him when he was--and I quote--'going to make an honest woman' of you! And each time Harry got more irritated. He practically slammed the door in Neville's face! And you should know Harry hardly ever closes that door to begin with!" Which was true, he found that people from other departments liked to pop in, while often giving information they shouldn't, if he made himself easy to find.

"Oh," Ginny's voice was small now, which irritated Harry more than her shouts. 'Oh,' indeed! It seemed to have the same effect on Hermione, who gave a loud and angry sounding growl, before taking a deep breath and calming herself. “But…”

“But what?” Hermione did not seem softened by Ginny's tone.

“I just want to have him mine,” she admitted, whining slightly.

“He already is yours! You're the only creature he's even recognized as female in the last six years!” That was definitely not true, thought Harry, but maybe it was better if they both thought that.

“That's not what I mean, Hermione!” Ginny sounded exasperated, as though she thought that the cleverest witch of their age was really quite dumb, while Hermione sighed, as though she'd understood perfectly well what was being discussed.

"Look, Ginny, you've got to understand, this is not about you. It's about the both of you. Pressuring Harry will only put him farther away from you, but if you really can't wait...well, you should think about this a little more on your own."

"What are you saying?"

Again, Hermione sighed. "Nothing, just that you should take into consideration everything. Harry's wonderful, and he really does care about you. If you care more about marriage than you do for him, well, then that's a problem you're going to have workout yourself, because I have no wish of taking part in his heartache, and he's already stressed out enough about this."

Ginny's voice was poison again. "You just want him for yourself; don't think I didn't see it. My brother's not enough for you anymore, is he? You've had enough of the sidekick, now you want the hero, don't you?"

"Think what you want," Hermione's voice was irritated again. "But if you want a piece of advice, don't say that to Harry's face."

"What, afraid he'll pick me over you, like he will?" He'd never heard such a tone on Ginny's voice before. Dumbledore's beard, she sounded almost like Malfoy gloating! Was that what the whole `I want him to be mine' was about. He was really starting to think he didn't want to be anymore.

"Ginny, I'm really sad for you if you don't even understand what I'm saying," she sighed again. "If you force Harry to choose, he won't, because you'll have made the choice for you, and, in any case, that's not what I was saying."

"Oh, really? And what were you saying?"

"Just that if you tell Harry that he's only a hero, he'll understand that you don't deserve him. Goodbye Ginny," and with that the green flames dispersed. He had just enough time to retract the Extendable Ear and lie down on the bed, exhausted, before his so-called girlfriend stood straight and noticed him.

"Harry!" Her tone was not only startled, but a little scared. "When did you get back?"

He threw an arm over his eyes so that he wouldn't need to look at her. "Just a few minutes ago," he told her, though he did think it was a few minutes too long. When had Ginny become someone that he didn't recognize anymore? Her sigh of relief almost roused his anger. "So," he tried nonchalance, “who were you talking to?"

"Oh, just Hermione," he really didn't like the tone with which he said her name. They were supposed to friends, for Merlin's sake, when did things change so drastically? "She wanted to know how we liked the place."

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She hadn't seemed to like it much when he asked her to take a walk. "What did you tell her?"

She shrugged. "That it was pretty boring actually." Ginny had always been the life of the party, as she liked to be.

"I like it. The villages around here are really nice, and there's this big market not far away that I thought you might have liked," not that it mattered now anyway, and before he could stop himself, he found that his mouth was working on his own, pronouncing the words, "it could be great for a honeymoon." He wanted to slap himself, but Ginny seemed to perk up at this, as though he'd just told her there was going to be one.

"Well, I always thought maybe Paris, but Rio would be very exotic wouldn't it?" She asked, laying down next to him and playing with his hair. He wasn't able to suppress the wave of repulsion that overtook him. When had she had that effect on him?

He thanked whatever gods were on him that day, however, when, right that second, the fireplace roared back to life, the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, head of the Auror Division, floated among green flames. "Harry, finally, I found you! I've been flooing for almost twenty minutes now!"

Getting up from the bed quickly he kneeled before the hearth, "You could have owled," he said half heartedly. He was really glad for the interruption.

"No, it wouldn't have reached you on time. I need you here in one hour!"

"Why, what's going on?" Oh, this was too good. An excuse to escape!

"I've got Morgan Phlips in the interrogation room," Kingsley said as the only explanation.

"That's fantastic!" Harry said excitedly. He'd been trying to catch the 'Muggle Hunter' for months now. "How'd you do it?"

"He turned himself in, but you need to get here right away, he said he'll only talk to you, and if you're not here within the hour those blasted criminal defence laws will let him out," the dark man said quickly.

"Right, I'll be right there, let me just get my stuff and I'll Apparate," and with that the communication was over, the flames dying for a second time. He grabbed the duffel bag that he'd brought for the trip, throwing on the bed, just in time to catch Ginny giving him an angry annoyed glare. "Sorry, Gin," he said quickly, "I'll try to be back quickly."

"Sure you will," she responded gruffly. "Tell me, Harry, how did they know how to reach you?" She had her arms crossed over her chest, for the world looking like he'd faulted her.

"I always have to let the office know where I'll be if I'm out of town, in case of emergencies, you know that," and she did, more than once he'd had to leave in the middle of one of their dates to fly off and catch some felon, yet it never bothered her more than expected.

"Harry there weren't supposed to be any interruptions to our weekend!" She told him greatly irate.

He sighed. She was overreacting quite too much, really. "Look, we'll talk about this when I get back, right now I don't have time."

"Don't have TIME!" she screeched. "I am your girlfriend; you have to make time for me!"

Harry looked at her, surprised by her outburst. He held his tongue for fear of saying something that could not be taken back in a delicate moment. "I'll see you later, Ginny," and with that he Disapparated, hoping that when he did, a better scene would be awaiting him.

Â°*Â°*Â°

He returned over six hours later, and the scene was just as bad as it had been before. When he'd first stepped into the cottage, he thought she might have been asleep, all the lights were off and there wasn't a sound to be heard in there, yet, the second he went to put the remaining things he'd brought along for the trip into the duffel bag her voice startled him out of nowhere.

“Where are you going?” Startled he drew his wand, lit it, and took a defensive stance. She was sitting on the bed, still with her arms crossed like she'd had them before, looking like she hadn't budged in the last six hours. Using a non verbal spell he lit the cottage and lowered his wand, though the defensive stance remained.

“I've been assigned a new mission,” he explained. “I can't give you any details, you know that. I have to leave right away, but I should only be gone a few weeks,” he expected her to be upset; she generally was in these cases.

“A FEW WEEKS?!” She screeched.

He nodded, not feeling very sympathetic. “No more than three, I've been gone for longer periods.” He had, his longest being six months.

“Will you write?” She asked in a clipped tone.

He blinked at her. She'd never asked that before. “You know I can't.”

“Why not?”

What was wrong with her? “Because it's a covert operation, I can't give away our position by sending owls.”

“Well, then how will I know you're alright?” Now she sounded angry.

“Er—" Harry was really starting to get confused. “What?”

“How will I know if you're alright? Will someone come and tell me that something's happened to you?” Her voice was rising now.

“Er—“

“Someone would if we were married! I'd be the first to know because I would be your wife, but I'm not, so I won't know.”

Harry suddenly felt very aggravated. That was what she was getting at, a new angle from which to pressure him. “If something happened to me you would be the first person to know. You're the first person on my list of contacts in case of emergencies, and you know that, you've already been contacted several times when I ended up in St. Mungo's.”

She blushed, as though she'd just realized what a weak excuse she'd given.

“Harry, I want you to ask me to marry you!” She finally said, deciding to use the straightforward approach, the only one she had not tried.

“What?!” Harry asked, more than slightly upset.

“You heard me, Harry, I've waited for you too long already, and I won't wait a second longer. I don't care if you don't have a ring ready, we can buy that together later, but I want you to ask me, and I want you to ask me, now!” She shouted, standing up from the bed and stomping her feet, for the world of her looking like a capricious child. Harry looked at her, wondering when things had become different from what he knew them as, and turned his back on her, beginning to gather the things he'd come for.

“What are you doing?” She asked angrily from behind him.

“I'm getting the protective items I left here,” he replied, his voice void of expression.

“What protective items?” She watched as Harry took several things that she had never seen from hidden corners, the only one she recognized being a Sneak-o-scope.

“The ones I placed around the cottage,” again, his tone was empty.

“What for?”

At that, Harry stopped, and turned around to look at her. “What?” He was angered and outraged, and he spoke in a manner that was nearly menacing. “What do you mean, `what for'!? Did you forget who I am Ginny?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then why are you asking me what these are for? You should know. How many times did you hear one of them go off when in my house, or even Ron's or Hermione's?”

“What do they have to do with anything?”

Harry chuckle was dark and it scared her enough to make her back down a step. “They have a lot to do with it, Ginny. They were there. They helped me destroy the Horcruxes. They helped me get to Voldemort so that I could kill. They are the ones that, like me, still get chased by his followers. They are the ones that, like me, risk their lives every time they go outside and have to protect everyplace they go to. And if you want to know, you are the one that has nothing to do with it,” and he turned back to his packing, his movements chopped and angered.

“What are you saying?”

Harry shook his head, not even bothering to look at her anymore. “You tell me you want me to propose, Ginny, but what will happen if I do?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “We'll get married, live together, and maybe raise a few kids,” she told him simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Again, he shook his head. “No, Ginny. If we get married, my address will change, and we will live together, but it won't feel like it to you. I'll always be away, I'll come back home late every night, and people will want to hurt you, just because you're married to me, and let me tell you something. Riddle's diary will look like a stroll in the park compared to them. You have no idea what kind of scum is after me, and they will come after you.”

“They never have so far!” She told him loudly, as though she thought he was only giving her an excuse.

“Oh, yes, they have Ginny, they just haven't been able to get you, I made sure of that,” at her surprised face, he gave her a sick smile. “Yeah, didn't you notice? Your office, your home, the Burrow are all thick with protective spells that Ron and Hermione helped me put there, and, when I can't, they keep watch over you. We've been protecting you for five years and you never even noticed, which is fine because that was how I wanted it.”

“So what?” Her tone was defiant. She'd wanted him to propose for years, she'd dreamed of it since she'd been a child, those trivial matters would not stop her from getting her wish.

“So, Ginny,” Harry turned to her, his facial muscles drawn as though he were trying to hold back from bodily harm, “did you ever, in all your years of daydreaming about it, what it would actually be like to be married to me?”

She never had. All her fantasies went as far as the wedding ceremony, some pushed as far the honeymoon, but nothing beyond that. Giving her a sharp look, he turned for the door.

“Harry, if you want to marry me, you'd better propose now.”

He laughed. He guessed she thought it was a threat. “Or what, Ginny?”

He saw her narrowing her eyes at him in anger. “I won't wait anymore, Harry. Either you propose, or I'll leave.”

Harry sighed, staring at her. “No, Ginny, in case you haven't noticed, I'm the one who's leaving, and you were never really in it to begin with.”

He was about to exit the cottage, but was stopped by her outraged screech of shock. “Are YOU breaking up with ME!? You can't do that!”

He gave her one last sad look. “I just have. Goodbye Ginny.”

The resounding pop of his Apparition echoed for a few seconds in the empty cottage, and was then filled with Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend's scream of outrage.

To be continued.

Do not worry people, the fluffy romance, and the end, will come soon. Reviews are always appreciated, thank you

Pearl Drop Angel

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3. Happy Ever After

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the rights to HP, and if I did, book 6 would have gone a completely different way.

Happy Ever After

By Pearl Drop Angel

Chapter 3: Happy Ever After

Harry, unsurprisingly, woke up in a hospital bed. He was surprised he actually woke up considering the Sectumsempra he'd taken to the chest, it could have been fatal. But it was done. The person that he'd chased almost as much as Voldemort himself was now in Azkaban, awaiting trial.

He should have been happy and relieved, but he kept on thinking that he should have caught him before he'd committed his biggest crime, kept thinking that, if he had, Dumbledore and Hagrid would still be alive. And he found himself crying for the loss for the first time in years.

“Harry, you're awake!” A familiar feminine voice called from his right. He grimaced; the bloody creature was wreaking havoc inside his battered chest. And he wished she hadn't seen him at such an embarrassing moment. She'd seen plenty before, but this time, he felt different about it.

“Hello, Hermione,” he mumbled quietly, his ribs groaning from the effort. For the first time he looked around since his awakening, noticing many blurry figures. Hermione was to his right, sitting on a foldaway chair and looking like she hadn't slept in days, Ron was behind her, being shaken awake by Fred and George. On his left were Molly and Arthur Weasley, both occupying the only plush armchair. This, of course, wasn't unusual. They were on his contacts' list, meaning that they all received an owl when he arrived at St. Mungo's. What was unusual was that the person at the very top of that list wasn't present, but then again, she was probably still extremely angry at him, not that he blamed her. Didn't matter, as soon as he returned to the office he would remove her name from the list, and she very likely didn't wish to be on it anymore.

His eyes fell on Hermione again, and on her puffy tired eyes. “How long have I been here?” His voice was rough and his throat scratchy.

“Three days,” Hermione replied readily, bringing a water goblet to his lips, which he gladly drank from. “Oh, Harry, we were so worried! I mean, first you disappeared without sending us an owl, you're gone for nearly three months, and then you end up in the hospital with a fatal wound!”

“Yeah, mate! You had us worried, why didn't you write?” Ron asked, getting up from his rickety chair to stand next to Hermione. Harry felt a stab to the heart seeing them together.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I was going to write, but then I got sidetracked before leaving. I got mad and I forgot.” He was nearly getting mad thinking about it again.

“Oh, yeah, I bet,” Fred piped up sarcastically. Harry watched him, wondering what Ginny had told everybody. She was the type that liked to rant and rave when she thought she was wronged. Maybe he should have been more careful of what he said in a roomful of Weasleys.

“Makes me ashamed of calling her my sister,” George added.

“You don't even know the half of it, Harry,” Ron told him, looking like the world's evil had beseeched him.

“Don't speak like that of your sister, Ronald Bilius Weasley!” Mrs Weasley tried to sound reprimanding while she fussed over Harry, and not succeeding very well, something highly unusual for someone who seemed to have a Degree in doing just that.

“Oh, please, mom, you were the first one to be disappointed,” George shot back, immediately quieting the Weasley matron.

To tell the truth, Harry was confused. He'd thought he might get his head ripped to shreds by some new Weasley invention for having dumped the Weasley's baby girl, and here they were, all complaining about Ginny's behaviour. “Er—did I miss something?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Harry, you've been gone a trimester. I'd say you missed a lot.”

“Yeah, you missed tons, and you're bloody lucky for it,” Ron grumbled, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Why? What happened?” People looked at each other uncertainly, not knowing what to say.

“Well, Harry,” leave it to Hermione to pick up where nobody would. “You know how in school Ginny was too popular for her own good?” Seeing him nod she continued. “Well, apparently, she still is. Men backed off only because she was with you, but once word got out that you broke up with her, she was back in full swing, and she liked it.”

“Yeah, bloody loved it,” Ron murmured again, darkly.

“For the first month, she changed men as often as she changed clothes, mostly Aurors. I think in a way she was trying to get back at you. She was right twisted about that. Fussed about it for weeks. Anyone who mentioned you got hexed with her famous Bat Bogey,” Hermione explained.

“Yeah, she threw a fit when mom told her you were right, Harry,” Fred laughed.

“Yes, it was priceless! We went and got a pensieve just to put that memory in,” George added. “We'll show it to you when you get out.”

“You'll do no such thing! Harry needs his rest,” Molly Weasley replied, her tone menacing.

“W-wait!” Harry called, surprised. “You told her I was right?”

The Weasley matron huffed in indignation. “Of course I did! Giving you an ultimatum like that, she should have been ashamed of herself,” she put her hands on her wide hips and took a shrill tone, beginning to do what must have been an imitation of a ranting Ginny. “'He was just going to leave me to go to work, so I told him that if he didn't propose right there, I'd leave him'!” She let out an angry growl indeed. “Indeed!”

“Molly, please calm down,” her husband, Arthur, put a calming hand on her shoulder, “This can't be easy on Harry.”

“Oh,” she said, coming down from her angry state. “That's right. I'm sorry, Harry dear, I'm sure you've already had to think about it more than you should have.”

He shrugged in reply. “It's okay, actually. I was so busy I didn't have time to think about it, and now I don't care,” that, of course, was not necessarily true. He'd fumed about her for about to hours, and then stopped caring. Even if she said the things she did, he was in the wrong as well, for letting her think that there would eventually be a proposal. But even that thought didn't plague him very much. He'd spent the entirety of his time away thinking of Hermione. And he felt guilty for it. It was as though he were betraying both of his best friends.

“Yeah, well, we've had to think about it!” Fred exclaimed.

“Yeah,” George agreed. “Even if she was a hag to you, Harry, she's still our sister. She drove us mental with all the blokes that were chasing her! Good thing she calmed down now.”

“Oh, did she?” Harry asked, his question driven by simple curiosity.

“Yes, she did,” Arthur told him. “These last few days she's been busy moving her things into Neville Longbottom's home.”

“Neville?! Really?” Harry asked, completely taken by surprise. He'd always known that Neville was more than infatuated with Ginny, but he never would have guessed that his ex-girlfriend reciprocated. And now they were living together.

“Yes, they've been going out very steadily the past two months. I think she's using him to take out her frustration at you, but I can tell she truly fancies him. It's quite nice actually. I suspect he should be proposing soon, if only he manages to get the guts,” Molly sighed. “She behaved horribly, at first, but I'm quite happy with the situation, actually.”

“You are?!” Harry asked, completely shocked. He'd always thought she'd wanted them to get married more than anything else.

“Yes, very. Just don't tell her that. To tell the truth I used to hope for a wedding between the two of you, but I saw long ago that it wouldn't have worked,” she told him tugging at the blankets to make sure they covered him well on all sides.

“Bullocks!” Ron exclaimed. “Since when?”

She gave him a sharp look for his choice of wording. “Since I know my daughter. I know how stubborn she can be. And I know what it's like to be in love. And Ginny did not behave like people in love. She behaved like a dog that had a juicy bone and didn't wish to let it go, even though it didn't meet her fancy. Much as I thought the same of you and Hermione.”

The creature inside Harry's chest perked its ears at this, causing quite a nauseous feeling in his gut. “What?” He asked, maybe a little too eagerly.

Harry saw Ron open his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by Hermione. “Let's not talk about that, now,” she interrupted quickly. “Tell us about Snape, it was all over the papers!” And thus, the conversation was masterfully moved onto another subject.

Oh, yeah, what happened to him?” Harry asked interested, though the question of what had happened between Ron and Hermione was still present in his mind. “How did the trial go?”

“there hasn't been one yet,” Hermione told him. “The Wizengamot was waiting for you to wake up to schedule it. The Daily Prophet said that you're going to have to testify.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe we should let them know I'm up and about.”

She replied with a smile that made him want to purr as loudly as the monster within him. “Maybe we should,” and Harry saw from the corner of his eye that the twins were leaving the room to find someone. Hermione watched him with a steady intense gaze. “He won't be able to make his way out of this one, Harry.”

He fell back on bed, filled with certainty that she was right. She'd never assured him of something wrong before, and he trusted that she wasn't about to start, either. For now, he would think of the trial, what happened between Ron and Hermione could wait until Snape was given the Dementor's Kiss.

Â°*Â°*Â°

Okay, he'd been wrong. The romantic situation between his best friends should have been cleared before. Now, it was driving him insane. It had been four days, and the beast was clawing at his insides, begging to be given an answer, but Harry wasn't able to provide it. He'd been put under the strictest of protections to assure that he arrived safely to the Courtroom. He'd hated being treated as though he was incapable of taking care of himself, but Kingsley had asked him to do this, so he'd acquiesced.

He was in the middle of the most important trial of the century, for bloody Merlin's sake, and all he could think about was whether or not Ron and Hermione were still a couple! While he was in the courtroom his anger filled him, and all he thought about was the trial, but when he wasn't there was nothing further from his mind. He'd been called to testify a whole of six times in the last nine hours, he's said what he had to, now, he just wanted the bastard taken care of so that he could go and find out what was plaguing him.

Snape wasn't allowed in the courtroom while Harry was present, but if he had been, Harry guessed that he would have felt different. His pure hate for his ex-teacher would have made his blood boil, but Harry couldn't see him, or his faÃ§ade of remorse. Now, he was left alone in a small room outside the Court's, his door heavily guarded, with nothing but his thoughts for company, waiting for someone to call him to hear the Wizengamot's decision.

And, finally, as though his thought had summoned him, a wizard wearing the standard Auror robes peeked through the door, telling Harry that the Wizengamot had reached a solution. He followed the wizard into the painstakingly familiar room, watching the spot where he remembered Dumbledore once sitting, comfortable on a chintz chair that he'd summoned, and finding, right next to his memory of years before, a nightmare that had followed him to the present day. In the chair that he sat in for his own hearing, was Severus Snape, hair as greasy as ever, crooked nose raised in haughty distaste of all that surrounded him, looking for the world like he was the one judging the ones before him. He was thin, nearly as thin as Sirius had been when Harry had first seen him, tired from the constant run that he'd been in ever since the day of Dumbledore's murder, even more, since the day of Voldemort's death.

And there his blood boiled. He heard the Minister of Magic asking if Snape had anything to say about the crimes he was accused of. And Snape did.

“I quite enjoyed it.”

Harry was ready to draw his wand and do something drastic, but thankfully, the Minister acted for him in a much harsher way than he would have ever managed.

“Very well. In light of the presented events, and of your own words, you are unanimously declared guilty of several capital crimes, and will, therefore be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss. The sentence will be executed immediately,” he gestured to a door, that opened instantly, allowing in a single Dementor, one of the only ones the Ministry still allowed, and Harry watched, not feeling the least bit of nausea that he usual felt around one of the dreaded creatures.

Â°*Â°*Â°

The Wizarding world was all a celebration, the Burrow alight with fireworks provided by the Weasley twins, everyone laughing at demise of the final evil of the War of Voldemort, yet Harry heard and saw none of it. He was slumped against a tree, nursing a glass of strong liquor in his hands, feeling like he was something atrociously dirty among the perfect happiness of the moment.

“Harry, what are you doing out here all alone?” His creature perked right up, but he himself was even more demoralized by the apparition of one Hermione Granger, feeling though his very presence was tainting her.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he shrugged, hoping that she would catch the hint and leave. But that would have never been something that Hermione would do. Walking around him so that she faced him completely, her eyes staring fixedly into his, she raised her left foot, and brought it down hard onto his left.

“BLOODY MER—“ He swore colourfully as he hopped on his uninjured foot, his drink sloshing off the sides of his glass. “Hermione, what was that for?”

“For thinking that you could just shrug your shoulders and make me leave without first knowing what's wrong with you,” she said simply, taking his alcoholic beverage from his hand, and dumping it on the grass beneath their feet.

“And that one?” He asked, referring to his now empty glass. “Because you make a depressing drunk, and you're already too depressing as it is right now.” Vanishing the glass, she leaned against the tree next to him. “So what's wrong?”

He shook his head, taking his eyes as far away from her as possible. “It's disgusting, Hermione.”

“What is?” She asked, her eyebrows drawn together in question.

“I am,” he told her simply.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “And why are you so disgusting?”

He brought his hands to his face, rubbing vigorously, trying to buy some more time. “You weren't in that Courtroom, Hermione. You can't understand.”

“That's codswallop, Harry!” She replied in anger. “I always tried to understand. I might not, but you know I'll try.”

“You can't understand this,” he spoke quietly, his eyes digging holes into the ground.

“But I can try,” she said ardently, placing a firm hand on his upper arm, forcing him to look at her. He didn't want to tell her, he really didn't, but he was incapable of refusing her. “What happened at the trial?”

He inhaled deeply, letting the breath out as slowly as possible. “Snape was given the Kiss.”

She huffed, exasperated. “The trial was on the WWN, I know that,” she told him impatiently, letting him know she understood he was stalling.

He nodded, swallowing hard, his throat very parched. “When I saw it…Merlin, Hermione, I enjoyed it! I liked watching his soul get sucked out. I liked his pain. He said he and enjoyed doing it, he liked killing Dumbledore. I liked that the most important part of him was being ripped out to feed one of the most disgusting creatures in the world,” his hands were over his face, hiding it from her, and, most importantly, from her expression. He didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, he didn't want her to look at him as though he were some Death Eater scum.

“Harry,” she called him softly. Hearing her he almost thought she pitied him. “Harry!” More loudly. “Harry!” He felt her hands, her white pure hands, grabbing his wrists, tugging hard to pry his hands off his face. But he wouldn't look at her, he stared defiantly at the ground, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Losing her patience, she wrapped her left arm around him in a half hug so that he couldn't cover his face again, and brought her right hand firmly under his chin, forcing him to look straight into her eyes.

She was close, Dumbledore's beard, she was far too close! “Harry, when are you going to stop underestimating yourself?! I told you, the trial was on the WWN, and let me tell you, there was not one person listening who wasn't relieved and happy that Severus Snape was no longer a threat, especially after he said that! Goodness, Harry, we're having a party! We listened to an execution and now we're laughing and having fun!”

“Don't try to make me feel better Hermione,” Harry whispered back. “The party is because a huge threat is gone. Nobody here liked to listen to death.”

“Neither did you, Harry,” she answered firmly. “Don't act all misunderstood. You didn't like listening to death. If you did, you wouldn't be here, feeling sorry for yourself. What you felt was because you were upset by what he said, and because of how long you've been chasing him. You were gone three months, Harry. Three long months away from home, with no friends, and the thought of putting Snape in the bag, and you've been trying to catch him since the day you became an Auror.”

He shook his head vigorously, still firmly locked in Hermione's arms, “It's not like that, Hermione.”

She sighed, frustrated and tired, trying to figure out how to make him see that he was wrong. “Ron and I broke up two months ago,” she said quietly, her eyes avoiding his for the first time that evening.

Despite the fact that his ears perked up and the beast was suddenly wide awake, he replied tartly, “You're changing the subject.”

“No, not really,” she said with a smile. “Do you know why?” Watching her intently, he shook his head again, this time slowly, almost in a dream state. “There were a lot of reasons, really. For one I didn't like the person I became when I was with him,” seeing Harry's confused expression she elaborated. “I was always jealous of the fact that he looked at other women, prettier women with lovely hair, like Fleur,” Harry cursed his best friend in his own mind. “I was vindictive and somewhat tyrannical. And I didn't like our bickering, it was getting so childish and so tiresome. “I didn't like the fact that we couldn't stay together for more than a few months at a time without needing a time out, or one of those stupid vacations,” she gave him a small half smile at this. “He wasn't too happy with me at first. He thought he had a right to me, because he'd gotten to me first, and I didn't like that either. We're both better now, though,” she added on a lighter tone, “Ron finally invited Luna Lovegood on a date last week, it seems to be going really well, and he and I are back to being just friends.”

“Hermione, what—?” He began to ask slightly confused.

“Don't worry, Harry, I've got a point,” she reassured him quickly. “The main reason for our splitting up was that we're not in love with each other. And, more specifically, I'm not in love with him. I told him I'm in love with someone else,” he felt her hold loosen, become almost a lover's embrace. “I told him I'm in love with you, Harry,” she told him softly, her voice cracking slightly. “I love you because of you're kind, because you can always get me to break the rules, because you listen to me, and for another million reasons. I love you for your pure heart, Harry, I love you for you.” He thought beast was dancing the conga, but he didn't much care at the moment.

“Hermione—,” he began, but she cut him off again.

“No, wait,” her voice was quivering madly, her eyes brimming with tears, “I didn't tell you this to impose my feelings on you. It doesn't matter if you don't return them. I just needed to tell you this to let you know that you are a good person, Harry. I couldn't love you otherwise. I just thought if you knew you'd stop and think twice about it before calling yourself disgusting in front of me,” she was letting go now, ready to turn her back on him and leave.

“WAIT!” He shouted, throwing his arms out to grab her left hand, the closest to his. Her shoulders were shaking, her whole frame trembling, choked sobs making it past her constricted throat. “Please, Hermione. Don't go.” It really was quite ironic the way he'd been trying to get her to leave earlier, and now, he thought he would die if she did. “Please!”

There was something in the way he said it, that made Hermione stop in her tracks, though she wouldn't face him.

He used her left hand that he was still clutching as leverage, whirling her around so that she spun surprised, straight into his arms, her eyes wide and scared.

“Please, Hermione, I need you to stay with me,” he begged. She sighed, nodding, and trying to hold back a hiccup. “And I don't mean just now,” seeing her eyes find his and penetrate them, he took the final leap. “I need you to stay with me forever, Hermione, because I'm in love with you, too.”

He watched as her face slowly changed, blossoming in the light of hope. “Y-you do?”

He smiled, finding her insecurity wonderfully sweet, and incredibly attractive. “Yes, Hermione,” he told her, leaning his forehead against hers, “I really do.” And, no longer able to contain himself, he closed the small distance between them, and pressed his lips softly against hers, feeling an incredible warmth spreading through him, ignoring the beast within him that was practically melting.

When they separated, she watched him, her lips spreading in a happy smile, and, finally, laughed quietly, the sound shaking after the hiccups.

Harry smiled uncertainly, not sure what she was laughing about. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing,” she replied, shaking her head, making her bushy hair bounce form side to side, “I just though that I might be happy ever after, yet.”

And Harry, laughing along with her, agreed.

The End

Alright that's it people, the end. I'm sorry if it doesn't really live up to expectations, I'm not happy with it at all. In the first draft actually, the Weasleys were all still supposed to be mad at Ginny for eloping with Neville, but I changed that, and there was supposed to be a conversation with Ron that I decided to take out because it didn't flow very well, but now I think I should have gone like that. No matter, I decided to post it now because I didn't feel like having to wait until I came back from vacation. And sorry that the fluff at the end is not very descriptive, but my dad keeps shooing me off, so I had to make it quick.

Hope everyone enjoyed it, and please tell me what you think

Thank you

Pearl Drop Angel

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