More Than Anything

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I simply own the plot. Enjoy!

“So everything…” Harry said breathlessly, “everything is done? There's - there's no more Voldemort, no more Death Eaters… it's all over?”

“Yes, Harry.” Dumbledore said benevolently, for perhaps the first time in a good many months. “It's all over, and you are free to do as you please.”

Harry collapsed into a chair, and roughly scraped his hands through his hair. “How can it happen? Just - just like that. Nineteen years of my life, and it's over in less than a minute. I don't understand.”

Dumbledore pondered the question a moment. “Life is a precious gift, Harry, and it is always going to be easy to lose. You're not dead Harry.” He said pointedly, pinning him with a hard stare over his half-moon glasses. “You'd best appreciate that.”

Harry expelled a heavy breath, and stood up. “Professor, you make it sound as if I don't already appreciate it.”

Shrugging, Albus summoned a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth. “Perhaps you don't, Harry.”

His head spun so fast his neck cricked.

“You value life when those you love die, Harry, but you don't see that in yourself at all, do you?” Dumbledore accused. “I think it's time you start.”

Two months ago, Dumbledore had said that to him, and he'd spent the past two months deciphering what it meant. He'd been on countless trips, enjoying the freedom of going anywhere he pleased, whenever he pleased. He'd spoken to Ron and Hermione at least once a day, thankful that they'd survived the war. He'd visited his parents' and Sirius' graves for guidance and for comfort.

And he could successfully announce that Dumbledore was off his rocker.

He appreciated his life. He'd celebrated it every day since Voldemort died.

Sighing, Harry undid the wards on his flat and clicked the door open, jumping back in shock at the loud shout of `SURPRISE' from inside of it.

“Happy birthday, mate!” Ron grinned, slapping him on the back and handing him a bottle of butterbeer.

“Er… thanks?”

“You forgot.”

Harry winced and turned around, facing Hermione with her arms folded, and her eyebrow raised. “No… I just er… wasn't expecting - ”

“Of course you weren't expecting it, Harry,” Hermione scolded, “because you forgot.”

“Okay.” He conceded forlornly, hating the disappointed expression that fell across her features. “I forgot.”

She forced a smile. “Well I hope you have a good birthday, then.” She gave him a watery kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd of well-wishers before he'd had a chance to placate her.

“What was that all about, mate?” Ron asked confusedly. “It's better for the surprise that you forgot, now isn't it?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, Ron.”

He was accosted by friends a family with hugs, handshakes, cheek-kisses, and best wishes before he got the chance to look for Hermione. She wasn't in the crowd of people any longer, considering the crowd of people had gone home after a couple of hours, and he had seen nothing of Hermione. He assumed she'd gone back to one of the bedrooms, and just barely managed to shoo away Mrs. Weasley - his last guest - before he began his search for her.

She wasn't in the guest rooms, so he assumed she was either in the washroom cleaning up, or she was in his room. After knocking on the washroom door and getting no answer, he pressed on to his bedroom and opened the door slowly, rapping his knuckles on the wood of the door.

“Can I come in?”

“It's your house, Harry.” Hermione said quietly, hugging one of his green silk pillows. “You can come and go where you please.”

Harry hesitantly closed the door behind him and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her to pull her closer to him. “You know,” he started, a smile beginning to form, “it's times like these that having a woman for a best friend confuses the hell out of me.”

Instead of a laugh, Harry was disappointed to see her frown deepen. “It was a joke, Hermione.”

“I know it was a joke.” Hermione snapped, wrenching herself from his grasp.

Realizing he'd said something wrong, Harry backtracked. “What's the problem here, love?”

“The problem is that you, Harry Potter, have saved countless lives. You've protected the entire wizarding world from certain doom, and spent most of your childhood preparing to do so. And for what? To watch other people live happily?! Harry, you appreciate the gift of life in others, but you completely disregard it in yourself! It's your birthday, for Circe's sake, and you've completely forgotten it! This is the one day out of the year that celebrates your birth, Harry, your life! It celebrates the fact that people love you and it celebrates everything you've done. And you entirely overlook it!”

Hermione's face was flushed, and Harry could see the passion flaring in her eyes, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. “It's not fair, Harry.” She said quietly, turning away from him. “It's not fair that you've had to go through everything you have just to get here. But damn it, I'm not going to let you waste the rest of your life because you place yourself below everyone around you.”

Harry was stunned into silence. He'd never seen her so furious, or so devoted to anything as she was now, and it scared him to think that it was all because of him.

“I just… I didn't know it affected you so much.” He said softly, reaching a hand out to cup hers. He traced his thumb across her knuckles, staring at the interlaced fingers, and suddenly squeezed her fingers. “A couple months ago I had a chat with Dumbledore very similar to this one. I didn't… Then, I didn't understand what he meant. Of course I valued my life. There was a very possible chance that I could have died that night, and I was scared to die. That had to mean I valued my life, didn't it?

“But just now… I finally understood what he was saying. He doesn't want me to waste my life caring for others, but not making a life for myself. That's what you want, isn't it? That's why you're angry?” He looked up desperately, his eyes shimmering with tears.

“Harry I want you to be happy. I want you to recognize everything you've done, and everything you've given, and I want it to affect your life. But I want you more than anything else to have a life.” Hermione said gently, cupping his face as tears collapsed down both of their cheeks. “When we were younger… at Hogwarts in our sixth year, you once told me that as soon this it was all over you wanted a family. You wanted a son or a daughter to love; you wanted to understand the love your mother had for you. You wanted to know the feeling of loving someone so much you were willing to die for them.

“What happened to that, Harry? You can have all of that. Right now, in less than a heartbeat. And you're holding back for Merlin knows what reason, and I can't for the life of me understand why you would do something that stupid.”

“What if I can't, Hermione?” Harry averted his eyes from her. “What if I can't love that much? What if I can't give a child everything that I want to give? I'm just Harry. I've always been just Harry. I can't necessarily do everything that springs to my mind.”

“I have no doubt that you would love your child.” Hermione said fiercely. “There's no way that you couldn't.”

Harry's eyes glossed over and he shook his head. “And why haven't you done any of these things?”

“Because,” Hermione shrugged, wiping her tears with the back of her hands, “the man I'd want to celebrate it with is a daft prick who hasn't sussed out that I bloody love him more than anything in the world. That I want to love him and cherish him and marry him and have children with him.”

Harry's heart banged wildly in his chest as she pinned him with a look of such love and ardor that he almost, for a second, thought that he might be that man; that he might be gifted with such an extraordinary witch who cared for him that intensely. He nearly feared for a second that it might not be him, but the thought halted immediately as she gently hauled him closer and planted her lips on his.

She nibbled his lip as he reveled in the softness of her mouth against his. He hesitantly darted his tongue out, and Hermione openly reciprocated the action, parting her lips just enough for him to slip his tongue inside.

And they carried on that way - snogging - for several minutes, until they'd reached a point where she was straddling him, and he fingering the buttons of her blouse. She moaned something unintelligible and flicked her hand toward the door, silencing and locking it just in case he had late visitors, starting at the top of her blouse and meeting up with Harry's hands in the middle. He brushed the material over her shoulders, never taking his eyes off of hers.

Her hands fell into place at the bottom of his tee, and he sat up just enough for her to lift it over his head. Her fingers skimmed over his abs, and she peppered kisses across his chest before moving back up to his mouth. Harry groaned and flipped her over, immediately starting on nipping her ears, neck, and the rise of her breasts. He reached behind her back to tug the black, lacy material away and tossed it to the building pile on the ground. He took a nipple in his mouth gently, eliciting a gasp and sigh from Hermione, and her hands quickly darted to his messy black hair, holding his head against her breast as his hand massaged the other one. “Harry…” She breathed helplessly. “Please…”

Not sure exactly what she was begging for, but having a fairly decent idea, Harry's hands roamed down her sides and over her hips, meeting at the button on Hermione's jeans and deftly undoing them, pulling the zipper down and ridding her gorgeous body of them. “Beautiful.” He murmured, facing a matching pair of black lace knickers.

Hermione groaned and wandlessly divested him of his pants and boxers, too impatient to repeat the process on him. Harry was kissing his way up her stomach, eliciting various curse words from Hermione - several of them in French - before finding her mouth and once again pressed it to his.

“Merlin… oh God. Ha…Harry… Now.” She pleaded desperately, grazing her hands over his back and arse.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. His entire body was burning with need and he'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted her right now. He pulled down her knickers, and slowly entered into her, giving her time to adjust.

“Fa…Faster Harry.” Hermione breathy whispers and sexy moans encouraged him, and he obeyed, ramming into her faster and faster as he felt his release and hers both fast approaching. “Oh God… Harry!” Hermione's muscles contracted around him as she reached her high, and Harry toppled over the edge right after. His body fell on top of hers, exhausted and sweaty, both breathing heavily. Hermione's hand strummed Harry's messy hair through her fingers, peppering occasional kisses against his shoulder and chest.

Harry rolled over, and quickly pulled her into his side, she resting her head against his chest. “Daft prick, eh?”

Hermione laughed, exhaustedly. “Yeah… Daft indeed.”

“Hermione, did you mean it?”

She fixed him with a questioning glance as she lazily drew circles over his chest. “Mean what?”

“What you said before… marrying… children?”

“Of course I meant it, Harry.” She whispered, looking up at him amorously. “I meant every word.”

“And…” he cleared his throat quietly, “and you… you love me?”

“I love you more than anything, Harry.” Hermione said softly.

“I love you too.” He said back, shocking himself with the hoarseness of his voice, powdering the statement with emotion.

“I'm glad, Harry.”

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“Daddy?”

“Yes, pumpkin?”

“Do you love me?”

Harry frowned and picked up his four year old daughter, Lynessa Potter, and looked her straight in the eye. “I love you more than anything, `Nessa. Why would you ever think that I didn't?”

Lynessa shrugged and hugged her daddy close to her. “Because Jessie Malfoy said her daddy loves her more.”

“Well they're Malfoys, sweetie.” Harry chuckled, picking up one of her dolls. “They sometimes think they're better. But I love you more than anyone in the whole entire world could love another person.”

“You love me more than Mummy?” Lynessa's eyes sparkled with mischief.

“You know you're my favorite girl.” Harry winked at his daughter and set her back on the ground. “Now you go back outside and find Jessie, and you tell her what I said.”

“Okay!” Lynessa squealed happily.

Harry chuckled and turned around facing his wife of five years.

“So she's your favorite girl, huh?” Hermione pretended to look affronted, leaning against the wall with her arms folded.

“'Course she is.” Harry replied sneakily. “You're just my favorite woman.”

“Very sneaky, Mr. Potter.” Hermione laughed, and pushed herself off the wall, walking toward him and wrapping one arm around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, placing another on his chest and leaning forward, pressing her lips to his.

“Indeed I am, Mrs. Potter.” He placed his hands on her bum, lifting her, and her legs automatically wrapped around his waist as their mouths passionately made love to each other.

“Mummy!” Lynessa shouted from the back entrance of the house, causing Harry and Hermione to spread apart and straighten themselves out, as they both listened for the scuttling of their daughter into the room. It took her a few seconds to reach it, considering the back entrance was fairly far away.

“Yes, darling?” Hermione smiled indulgently, winking at Harry over `Nessa's shoulder.

“Aunt Ginny and Uncle Draco are looking for you.” She said sleepily, yawning as her mother picked her up.

“Are they now?” Hermione kissed Lynessa's forehead. “Well I shouldn't keep them waiting, should I?”

`Nessa shook her head, brown hair swaying in her little pigtails, and her green eyes slowly slipping shut as sleep overwhelmed her. “I'll be back love.” Hermione pecked Harry's lips lightly, promising to continue after, and excused herself to the garden. She said goodbye to Ginny and Draco, and little Jessie Malfoy, promising to visit next weekend. She slipped back into the house and put Lynessa to bed, considering she'd fallen asleep against her mother's shoulder.

As soon as the door to `Nessa's bedroom had closed, Hermione was pressed against the wall, enjoying the feel of her husband's lips on her neck. She moaned quietly, and shuddered. “Harry… maybe we should… move… to the bedroom.”

Harry picked her up and kicked the door to their bedroom open, closed and locked it with a flick of his fingers, and laid Hermione down on the bed.

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Harry, more than anything.”

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