Epilogue: Three Years Later

Yet another hymn filled the church. Harry fought not to fidget and check his watch. Ron, standing next to him, smirked. Harry glared at him in response, then whispered "next year for you", which shut his best man up. The two were waiting in front of the altar for Hermione and her entourage to arrive. He knew intellectually that if anything had happened he would have been informed. And yet he couldn't help but be nervous. Slightly nervous. Just a bit.

His groomsmen were at the entrance, standing in the sunlight, chatting. Hopefully not about politics - though with Dean Thomas the only one among his groomsmen not involved in politics, that was a slim hope. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Chief Warlock, Percy Weasley, Minister for Magic, as well as Neville Longbottom, leader of the progressive pureblood faction in the Wizengamot, were likely to use the opportunity to talk about some upcoming proposals. It was ironic, in a way, that they could use Harry's wedding to chat relatively discretely. Harry knew the three politicians usually felt a bit "under observation" in his or Hermione's presence - both of them had been elected into the Wizengamot after they had retired from their offices following the end of the civil war in Russia, and even though they had taken a two year "sabbatical", their influence in the Wizengamot and Wizarding Britain's politics had not waned much.

Harry didn't like to think of that "sabbatical". While there had been rumors about both traveling incognito around the world, seeing the sights, it had been just a cover story. Hermione and Harry had had spent almost all the time in therapy, dealing with the issues and trauma from years spent in one war or the other, and even more years spent in a school filled with danger from sadistic teachers or future mass murderers. Not to mention his childhood in a cupboard.

And Dumbledore. Merlin, just how much of his problems had he blamed that meddling old wizard for! He would never have expected to understand the man, but now, with the war over, and having dealt with many of his issues, he saw a number of parallels between the old Headmaster and himself. They both had defeated the Dark Lord of their times, at great cost, and while they could have run the country afterwards, hadn't done so. Maybe even for similar reasons, though he didn't really want to know that. And both had still been meddling in their country's politics, influencing policies and laws, using the fame and fear their deeds had brought. Though there the similarities ended, in Harry's opinion. Unlike Dumbledore, he was not alone, but had Hermione. Unlike Dumbledore he was not afraid of doing what was needed - even now, Harry knew, he'd kill without hesitation, should he deem it necessary to protect his family and friends. And Hermione, of course. Hermione.

While the therapy had helped them - saved them and their relationship, he was honest enough to admit - it had been one of the most trying times in his life, and more than once he had felt as if he was living through his worst nightmares again. Between him and Hermione, they had had enough buried trauma and suppressed emotions to fill a book. It had been so bad, he was not sure if their therapist had been joking when she had claimed to be needing therapy herself afterwards.

But it was over now. Had been over for a year already, during which the two had started to attend the Wizengamot sessions, reconnected with their friends and family, and had taken that trip around the world, a few days a time. He had never felt better, to be honest, than today. Just not right now.

To distract himself and avoid fidgeting, he looked around the church. The guests were seated already, just Hermione and her entourage - her parents, her maid of honor and her bridesmaids - were still missing. Not missing, they were on their way, on schedule, he reminded himself.

At the back he spotted Robert Smith. The man had declined to be a groomsman, preferring to provide security "for old time's sake". These days, Harry and Hermione were not protected by a security detail around the clock. Not anymore. A Fidelius on their flat and another on No. 12 Grimmauld Place made sure no one could attack their home, and when they were going out the two were usually either very discreet - secret, even - or they visited equally safe locations, with enough protective spells on them to make a group of War Wizards jealous. Not that they had to fear War Wizards anymore - the new Russian government was quite friendly towards Britain. The Russian President, Alexandra Glebova, or Mолот as she was still called by her soldiers, had sent her regards and best wishes for their wedding. Quite cordial of her, especially after they had not been able to attend the wedding of her and Vladimir Petrovich Volodin and hadn't been able to reveal the real reason, their therapy.

Near Smith he spotted Sally-Anne Perks, their wedding planner. The witch was almost as fanatical about the ceremony as Smith was about security - it was, to use her own words, the most important wedding of her career. A career, the young witch was fond of joking, she had chosen so at least she could say she had organized more weddings than she had had herself.

Letting his gaze wander, Harry saw James Baker with his wife, Stefka Krum. Next to him sat Krum, and Harry had to fight not to smile triumphantly at the wizard. Just like Hermione, the wizard had stepped down as the Minister for Magic of Bulgaria as soon as the country had been stable. Unlike Harry he had taken up his career in Quidditch - again. And unlike Harry, he was not about to marry the smartest, bravest and most beautiful witch of her generation. Hah! And to think his therapist had claimed he had jealousy issues! Maybe he should consider playing Quidditch professionally, they never had that seeker duel, after all...

To their right sat Remi Dubois and Désirée Verrier. Mostly because that was as far away as possible from where the Delacours sat. The French family had been placed on the groom's side, to even numbers out a bit. While half an army of Grangers had come to see Hermione marry "her boarding school boyfriend", Harry's family consisted of his cousin Dudley and his godson, Teddy Tonks, who was sitting on his grandmother lap. All the Weasleys were also sitting on Harry's side, thankfully not including Aunt Muriel.

The Weasleys had come a long way from their humble beginnings. Percy was Minister for Magic, George had crawled out of his bottle, with a bit of help from Harry's therapist, and Charlie was managing the growing Dragon Reservation in Scotland. Thankfully not too close to Hogwarts. Bill was working as an independent curse-breaker these days. That was a good thing, seeing as they never had taken those bombs back that Hermione had had hidden in key vaults in Gringotts. Just in case the Goblins ever felt like starting another war. Arthur had become very rich as soon as he had managed to create his "spellphones". People were already complaining about them as muggles complained about mobile phones. As the main shareholder after Arthur of their firm, Percy had become rich as well, which had helped his chances of staying in office greatly.

That Polish friend of Ginny's, Makary Bercik, was sitting with the Weasleys as well. A very charming man by all accounts, or so Harry had heard - he hadn't talked with the man much himself, and had thought there was a bit of hostility - probably just the language barrier. He had managed to survive Molly's "inquisition", so he had to be made of sterner stuff.

The music changed - the wedding march! Harry turned toward the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face. She had arrived!

Hermione stepped out of the carriage, helped by her father. Her long, white dress barely touched the ground, not that it mattered - a few discreet charms ensured it would not stain. The small veil kept the sunlight out of her eyes as the groomsmen started to escort her grandparents and her mother inside.

Next to be escorted inside would be her bridesmaids, Ginny, Gabrielle, Parvati and Padma Patil. There should have been one of her cousins among them, but Hermione had not forgotten their remarks at the last family gathering before the Second Blood War, about how she'd end up an old maid. Besides with all bridesmaids being witches they did not have be concerned about the Statute of Secrecy while preparing. Security was easier too. Her parents hadn't been that happy about having to smooth the ruffled tempers of their relatives, but Hermione had pointed out that they were having an entire muggle wedding just so all of the Grangers could attend without having their minds wiped afterwards, implicating that it was a great sacrifice on her part. Which wasn't actually true, of course - she had wanted such a wedding since she had been little, and having to fight Voldemort and then half of Europe's purebloods hadn't made her look at magical weddings more favorably.

Gabrielle was looking around as if taking notes - the young veela was determined to marry Ron as soon as she finished Beauxbatons. The two had become an official couple as soon as Gabrielle had become of age, even though neither of the two ever mentioned what exactly had happened at Gabrielle's 17th birthday. Ron just coughed and blushed when the topic was brought up, and Gabrielle smirked while Fleur frowned.

Ginny was fiddling with her dress. Probably checking if the hidden mokeskin pouch was still accessible. She didn't carry as many weapons with her as did Ron - Hermione was sure he still carried his shrunken tank around with him - but like most of those witches and wizards who had fought in the Revolutionary Wars she had kept her share of weapons, issued and looted. Percy had been rather pragmatic about it and had simply chosen a reservist system for their army, modeled after the Swiss Army, so inactive soldiers were allowed to keep their weapons at home. It made sense of course, seeing as no one would try to take their deadliest weapons, their wands, away. That it kept both Ron and Ginny happy had been a consideration as well, Hermione was sure. Not that she did not carry around a similar range of deadly weapons and items, just in case. Even two years of therapy had not made her foolish, after all. It wasn't paranoia if people really were out to get you.

The groomsmen had returned, to escort the bridesmaids inside. Now it was just Hermione, her father, and Luna, the maid of honor. The blonde witch had helped her and Harry so much, it was the least they could have done. Without her, they might not have lasted long enough to get therapy. Or, as Luna put it, "get their Others and Trimitites killed". Luna had been fascinated with the methods of their therapist, and had even started studying psychology herself - or what passed for studying for a Lovegood. Her Quibbler articles dealing with that had been… interesting. Hermione never said so, but she was sure that Luna had been responsible for their therapist needing therapy herself. But for all her quirks Luna remained her best, most trusted girl friend. She reached out and squeezed the blonde witch's hand, smiling.

Luna smiled back, then hugged her, not caring that but for a few charms she might have wrinkled both their dresses. She had been staring at the church, commenting about the Wrackspurts and whatever other animals she saw. Hermione wasn't sure anymore if Luna's animals were actually imaginary. Not after Percy had lost all hair to one of the animals Luna kept at the Rook, and which she had described as an invisible floating air jellyfish from Sumatra that ate hair and hats. No one had been able to regrow Percy's hair so far. In return, he had almost managed to ban the animal from Britain with a law proposal that only failed because someone added a rider to it that would have banned other dangerous animals as well.

At least Neville's leg was recovering, if slowly - he still needed a brace. Hermione had managed to find the spell used, but hadn't found a counter-spell yet. Since the leg was healing anyway, it hadn't been a priority either. She was quite busy these days. Apart from spell and magic research, most of it going straight into the vaults of the Department of Mysteries, she still had to finish her book about the Second Blood War, with special emphasis on Dumbledore's deeds and misdeeds. After therapy, and with more distance to the events, she had become a bit less scathing in her criticism of the wizard, a bit more understanding, but she could never forgive him his treatment of Harry. And of course there were her special projects, which not even the Department of Mysteries knew about. Only Harry knew about them. They trusted the new British Ministry, but it still was a good idea to be prepared just in case things changed. So far it hadn't been necessary, but on their tour around the world they had heard and seen things… she dropped that thought. Today was her wedding day.

Then it was Luna's turn to enter, escorted by Ron, who shot Hermione a broad grin, and a smile at her father. The Grangers and Ron hadn't gotten along that well, though their relationship had improved lately. Sharing stories about Hermione's antics at school and at home had been a bonding experience, or so they claimed. Harry wisely had not commented.

Now it was just her father and Hermione - not counting the security around the church. It wasn't quite a state affair, but seeing as both the current Chief Warlock and Minister for Magic and their predecessors were attending, it might as well have been. Even muggle Britain had sent security - though how much of the reason for that was goodwill, and how much was showing the flag, so to speak, remained unclear. Relations between Wizarding Britain and the United Kingdom remained, not quite tense, but still delicate and new. Wizarding Britain was a sort of Dominion these days, though in many areas the Wizards were more of a sovereign nation. A lot of aspects of that relationship had yet to be defined and determined. It kept politicians busy.

Hermione's father offered her his arm. She took it with a beaming smile. At least that relationship had been mended. Coming clean about the therapy and the reasons for it had helped, of course - made it easier for her parents to forgive and forget. And if maybe a bit too much had even blamed on Hermione's traumatic experiences, Hermione certainly wouldn't correct them. Ignorance could be bliss in this case.

The two entered the church to the melody of the wedding march, and Hermione had to fight back tears. A childhood dream was coming true. They walked down the aisle, passing family and friends, and other guests. Like the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. Despite Hermione's expectations the old witch had managed to keep her position, thanks to her ability to delegate as many of her duties as she could. Fortunately she did spend her free time teaching selected transfiguration courses and overseeing the staff instead of meddling in politics, unlike her predecessor.

There was Ginny's boyfriend, possibly fiancé, Makary Bercik. A dashing Polish wizard, war hero, with charm for three wizards and a sharp mind. A joy to talk with, even if he had some issues with Harry. The same issues Harry had with Viktor, to be precise. Ginny had claimed she wasn't the cause of that, but who knew? Hopefully, after today, that would be settled.

Then she was at the altar, standing next to Harry, surrounded by Ron, Luna, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Harry, resplendent in his tailor-made and charmed suit. Smiling at her. Under her veil, her tears ran freely then while the priest spoke. She did not really listen, she knew what the man would say already. What mattered was Harry.

The ringbearer, her 10 year old cousin Mark, stepped up, presenting the rings. Understated, though expensive enough to make some particularly smug cousin of her jealous. Even without all the protective and other charms on them. Right then she wouldn't have minded if they were the cheapest brass one could find.

"I, Harry James Potter, take thee, Hermione Jean Granger, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law, and this is my solemn vow."

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, take thee, Harry James Potter, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law, and this is my solemn vow."

Harry lifted her veil and their lips met, for the first time as husband and wife.

Author's notes: A classic happy ending - life is sad enough, no need to replicate that in stories. There are a few loose ends (or story seeds) left, which will likely be dealt with in short stories at a later date. But for now I am focusing on my next longer weekly story, "Patron". Chapter 1 has been posted already and can be found under my profile. It will be updated each weekend, like this story was, barring forces out of my control.