The Different Course

A/N: I swear to you, I'm not a Ginny hater. In fact, for most of my stories (not yet published), I've got Harry paired up with Ginny. However, though I'm a hardcore Romione fan, I do think that Harry's partner is interchangeable. In this one, I'm kinda bashing on her a little. Sorry about that. It's just that I went through a pretty heavy depression and, with it, a big writer's block. For some reason, only this plot bunny managed to break through it.

Please do me a favour and leave a review to tell me what you think of this story. It is a one-shot, though it was originally meant to be MUCH shorter. I just couldn't tell it without making it this long. Oops.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. I'm merely playing in her genius world with her amazing characters.

Ginny

Harry Potter was a hero.

It was absurd to state it out loud when it was such an obvious thing. According to the Wizarding population of Britain, he'd been saving the world since he was one year old. Hero-worship at its best, to be honest. Harry hated it when people did that, dismissing the sacrifices his parents had made so he could live – Voldemort's first fall had been due to them, not him. But it was a pointless endeavour to try and get others to see it that way.

But he was a hero – since before he even knew what that word really meant. At the age of eleven, he'd put his life at risk to save a world he barely knew.

She'd grown up infatuated with stories from children's books about Harry's supposed adventures – fighting dragons and saving princesses and battling sea monsters...She was too little to realize none of them could be true. He was only a year older than her, after all. He couldn't have done any of those things.

When she was eleven and he'd saved her from the memory of a dark lord and a great murderous snake with a legendary sword, she learned that, yes, he could have been on those adventures because he was heroic that way.

She'd accepted this as a fact long before she'd met him. She accepted it as a fact when she did finally meet him, her brother's best mate, and she accepted it as a fact when she grew out of her fan-girl shell to actually get to know him.

It was why, when he broke things off with her to go save the world, she took it calmly.

He was Harry Potter. He was a hero. And heroes saved the world.

It was stupid of her, then, to think that when the war was won, Harry would miraculously stop being a hero.

Her brother was gone. Her family was in tatters.

And yet Harry still kept saving the world.

He took Ron and Hermione with him – never her.

They had a bond, after all, that she would never be a part of. She didn't remember having that bother her at all during school, but when she'd graduated and started to look towards the future, it became a bit of a sore point.

After all, they were supposed to move forward together. Instead, she was kept on the side-lines as he went after one top-secret mission after another...with her brother and his fiancée instead.

Ron didn't understand. How could he? He didn't have to endure being kept in the dark – both his best friend and the woman he loved were a part of the same tight-knit trio he was in. There were no secrets between them, nothing they didn't share.

'He's a private person, Ginny,' Ron had chided, a disapproving frown on his face when she'd complained to him once. She'd wanted to smack him silly – so he'd been best mates with Harry since they were eleven. So what? She'd been his girlfriend for the past five, not counting his time away on the trio's top-secret road-trip back in what was supposed to have been their seventh year.

After the war, while everyone else was recovering (or trying their hardest to, anyhow), Harry kept on being the Saviour (their new moniker for him, because he had so obviously grown from the Boy-Who-Lived into a man, respected and honoured everywhere he went).

He spent the summer after May 2nd rounding up the remaining Death Eaters with Ron and Hermione, attending funeral services of those who had perished during the war (her heart had thudded in her chest as she watched him, grieving them one by one as though he knew them personally, and she'd felt so much love for him when he did everything he could to downplay his presence so that he wouldn't be the inappropriate centre of attention at a funeral, and quietly approach the bereaved loved ones to give his condolences which she knew he felt in every nerve ending in his body).

He did end up going to Hogwarts for his seventh year during the 1998-1999 school year, together with Ron and Hermione.

Ginny had been pleased because he had been dead set against it at first and nothing she had said would have convinced him (he'd changed his mind because of Hermione's private words to him and Ron, and she hid the resentment she'd felt towards the other girl and held onto her happiness instead). She'd thought they would have some time with each other – the way they had back in her fifth year.

But he was too busy.

Of course he was.

He, Ron and Hermione were part of a team to help restore the school – Hogwarts itself was as sentient as any castle could be, having been brought to life by the magic of the four founders a thousand years ago. It set about repairing itself after the battle on its grounds, but it did need a little help along the way.

The professors and Headmistress McGonagall had done quite a lot during the summer while the Trio went about chasing dark wizards with the task force Minister Shacklebolt had set up (mostly made up of Order members). The castle fixed the magic within its walls – rooms and hidden places the professors had no way of knowing existed, let alone that they were damaged. The professors fixed the more obvious damages.

Still, there were some things yet to be fixed when school started and the Trio had been approached first, then some of the other skilledstudents in their sixth and seventh years. Ginny had been asked as well and she'd agreed to it. She didn't get the chance to spend much time with Harry here either. They were assigned teams, and no one had even thought to separate the three. Ginny had been paired with Neville and Luna, and had been forced to bear witness to their awkward flirting for half a year.

While Ron and Hermione spent their time together as Head Boy and Head Girl, Harry was Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, and Ginny's heart clenched as she watched him fly – it was the only time that she would see him completely carefree. Even in his sleep, his brows furrowed and his fists clenched and he'd often wake in a silent scream, sweat-drenched and unable to go back to sleep. He'd never tell her what his nightmares were about. Instead, he'd seek out Ron and Hermione to tell them.

Even as Quidditch Captain in his NEWT year, Harry would still be called out with the other two of the Trio by Minister Shacklebolt. They'd go on missions no one else knew the details of, attend fundraisers, meet with delegates from other Wizarding nations...There was a break-in by a Quintaped in Hogwarts right around Christmas that the Golden Trio had handled. Harry had slayed it in the end with the Sword of Gryffindor, which now resided in the Headmistress' office for anyone who needed it and called for it. So far, Harry and Neville had been the only two to have been able to do so.

She saw less of him than she had ever before, but it felt wrong to resent that when he was off being such a hero.

Then they'd graduated.

Ginny had been recruited by Quidditch teams during her final year – as had Harry, though he'd chosen not to become a professional Quidditch player. She had ultimately chosen to play for the Holyhead Harpies, and had gone right from the train at King's Cross to their training camp. She and Harry had said a sweet goodbye and went their separate ways, promising to meet up for the weekend.

Harry and Ron went on to start Auror training, which meant that they mostly stayed in the trainee barracks in Scotland. They came out during the weekends and even then, Ginny barely saw him. He'd chosen to get a place with Ron and Hermione instead of a bachelor pad of his own – or even one with her, joking that her entire family would swoop down upon him if he even thought it. Ron hovering nearby hadn't help any.

Harry had commissioned curse breakers and Wizarding interior designers to rid Grimmauld Place of all cursed or dark objects (to be put aside in the Black vault for later inspection and, most probably, destruction) and turn it into a brighter place. It was a process that took a year.

He took her to it nearing Halloween their first year out of Hogwarts and she'd assumed that he wanted to live there – with her. But he'd dispelled that notion immediately, looking horrified at the thought.

'I don't think I could ever live here, not after...' he swallowed, looking terribly lost.

'Why have you cleaned it up so nicely then?' she wondered, looking around. And it was true, Grimmauld Place looked like a beautiful stately house rather than a dirty old dump full of horrid decapitated house elf heads and dark magic thrumming in the walls. It felt light and clean and happy, and she didn't think those words could have ever been applied to describe the house – until now.

'I've been working on a project with Hermione,' he admitted shyly, and even though he was letting her in on the secret, she felt a pang of resentment that this was something he was sharing with someone else first. 'The war...It left a lot of orphans. Wizarding kids...Half-bloods and muggleborns that the Death Eaters had managed to track down and obliterated their families...Even pureblood kids from families they deemed were blood traitors.'

He looked so angry, eyes flashing a dark emerald. Her heart squeezed painfully. He'd never looked so passionate about her.

'We've been tracking them down,' he turned those eyes to her now. 'I've put in a request to turn this place into...a home. I know it could never be a real home, with loving parents and siblings and...But it could be a safe haven.'

And so it was.

Grimmauld Place was renamed The Sirius Black House, and it became the safe haven for orphaned Wizarding children that Harry envisioned it to be. Some of the kids were young – babies, even – but some were Hogwarts-aged. During the summers, they had nowhere to go. Harry gave them a place, and another round of hero-worship fell upon him, much to his chagrin.

They even tracked down muggleborn Wizarding children and sent in covert wizards and witches (from a new department at the Ministry that Hermione had founded after many long meetings with Minister Shacklebolt; it was named Wizarding Child Protective Services, after a similar group in the Muggle world, from what Ginny understood) to monitor them in their home environment, especially those who had started to display bouts of accidental magic. Newt and Tina Scamander had been a big supporter for WCPS (fundraisers for the department had even gotten rare public appearances from Newt Scamander himself) and their advocacy for it had only propelled others to do the same.

Some were in good homes, others needed WCPS to step in to educate their families, but there were a good handful of them who needed to be taken out of their home situation and placed in The Sirius Black House.

'Imagine how differently things would have turned out if Tom Riddle Jr. had been taken out of that orphanage,' Harry had said, wistful.

Ginny paused near the doorway to the kitchen of the Trio's flat, the remainder of her sleep chased away by Harry's words. Even Voldemort's birth name sent a shiver down her spine – it affected her more than others, she believed, because of his possession of her using that name back in first year.

'He was still a raging psychopath,' Ron reminded him, tucking into a mountainous heap of food on his plate. 'All those kids he terrorized...'

'Still...Maybe he could have been set straight if someone had gotten to him before the age of eleven,' Harry said.

Hermione was about to say something in response but Ginny came in then, and the conversation about Tom Riddle Jr. came to a complete halt. She tried not to let that bother her too much, and bit back the urge to snap at them to remind them that she had been a part of the war too. It hadn't been a secret adventure only the three of them had been privy to.

Three years post-Hogwarts graduation and she was attending Harry and Ron's Auror graduation with Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys. It was a solemn ceremony, but Molly threw them a muchmore carefree, jovial party at the Burrow afterwards, during which Ron and Hermione announced their engagement.

Ginny spent most of the night watching as Harry spoke with Shacklebolt and his fellow Auror graduates, toast champagne with Ron and Hermione and discuss work he hadn't even started yet with his new boss, Head Auror Gawain Robards.

'Enjoying the party?'

Ginny turned and smiled at Michael Corner. As this was a celebratory party (doubly so now that everyone's been told of Ron and Hermione's engagement just an hour ago), most of the Trio's friends and classmates from Hogwarts had been invited.

'Sure,' she shrugged, taking a deep swallow of her wine.

He eyed her speculatively. 'I would have thought you'd be up there with the lot of them,' he nodded up at the sky, where Harry, Ron, Charlie, George, Angelina, Katie and Oliver Wood had formed a Quidditch team and were playing against another team led by Bill. Lee Thomas was running his usual brand of hilarious commentary, leaving most of the audience in stitches.

'They already had two full teams,' she smiled as best as she could.

They stood together in silence for a while.

'I went to one of your games a few months back,' Michael said suddenly. 'My girlfriend's a fan.'

Ginny looked at him, a small smile curved on her lips. 'And you?' she asked, and maybe she should stop drinking the wine now because that had sounded a tad flirtatious in her head.

Michael laughed, a warmth in his eyes that she had missed seeing directed at her...from anyone. 'I've always been a fan of yours,' he admitted openly.

Boy, was she in trouble.

As it turned out, Michael worked as a shopkeeper in the Wizarding district in Anglesey, not too far from Holyhead, where Ginny's team trained for most of the year. He'd started his own apothecary, and it had a pretty fair business. He invited her over to visit it just to see how it was, and she'd gone just to visit an old friend.

He'd taken her to get some muggle food – not much variety for the wizards in Anglesey, apparently – and was surprised that she was familiar with a lot of them. She avoided mentioning the reason why – Harry had taken her to plenty of muggle eating establishments over the years – and he avoided asking, likely already figuring out the answer.

It started out innocent enough, just two friends catching up, going for takeaway or ice-cream or that one time they went to a muggle carnival in town and he'd won her a stuffed purple elephant.

It stopped being innocent when she kissed him.

Harry

Five years post-war and Harry had his life mostly sorted.

It was a miracle he attributed mostly to Hermione – he and Ron would be a right mess without her.

They'd completed their Hogwarts education, which was bittersweet, and gone on to Auror training while Hermione took on a low-level position in the MOM while taking classes at the School of Wizarding Law or SOWL (really, who came up with all these monikers? Harry was glad that The Sirius Black House couldn't have a short, ridiculous nickname that was pronounceable by the human tongue).

By the time he and Ron had graduated from their three-year training at the Auror Academy, Hermione had finished her studies at SOWL and had taken up a position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Their victory in the war brought with it many things – and one of those things was that the Ministry had awarded victors claim over those they'd beaten. Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone up against quite a number of Death Eaters and, as such, had been awarded their monies and properties once the Ministry had gone through everything with a fine tooth comb.

Purely out of spite (and, honestly, what would he want with Death Eater money?), Harry had used quite a huge chunk of his victory claims on The Sirius Black House (there was, of course, the cleanse of the house and the renovation, but the claims continued to pay for staff salary, food, upkeep and for the children's needs as well – school supplies, clothes, toys, books...Anything they needed).

He used up another huge chunk to set up The Remus Lupin Foundation (another name he was glad couldn't be given a nickname), which would benefit werewolves all over Wizarding Britain – it would give them supply of the Wolfsbane potion every month, properly brewed and completely free of charge, a place to roam free during their transformation during which they'd be with others of their kind and without fear of crossing paths with other people, and would advocate for their rights as human beings. Hermione had even used the Foundation to help pass a bill which would make it illegal for employers to not hire someone based on their condition of lycanthropy, and ensured that all werewolves would receive the same benefits at their jobs as regular non-werewolf employees.

Prejudice was something that the Foundation couldn't eradicate overnight, but these measures helped and Hermione was damn proud to be a part of such a change. So was Harry.

Ron had used his victory claims to set up a Trust for Wizarding children attending Hogwarts who couldn't afford school things. He'd remembered just how embarrassed he'd been as a child to be always lacking when it comes to money, and he didn't want other kids to feel that way. He'd invested quite a bit of his claims on The Sirius Black House and The Remus Lupin Foundation, but he also set up The Society of the Protection of Elvish Welfare as a legitimate organization, and Hermione had been so touched she'd proposed to him on the spot.

He'd, of course, said yes and pulled out the ring he'd been carrying around since Hogwarts graduation.

Now he and Ron were in their second year of being Aurors and it was better than Harry had imagined.

He'd moved into his own flat because there was no way he was sharing a flat with two newly engaged people who spent half their time shagging each other silly and the other half strangling each other over wedding plans.

He and Ron were on the fast track in the Auror Department, and Robards had partnered them up together because they worked well with others but were exceptional together. No other first-year Junior Aurors were assigned cases as tough as theirs, and they revelled in solving each and every one of them, flashing back to their time at Hogwarts solving mysteries and going on adventures like no other.

Their second year as Junior Aurors was even better than the first. The cases were gruelling but he felt like he and Ron were making a big difference. They'd even gotten the opportunity to work with the Hitwizards a few times. They were a tough lot, but their skills were nothing short of impressive.

Ginny moved in with him when he got his flat, but with his unpredictable work hours as an Auror and her training with the Harpies which meant that she spent most of the week in Holyhead instead of London, they barely saw each other.

Even so, Ron and Hermione's engagement had gotten him thinking. As their wedding loomed closer, a clearer picture of their future began to form and Harry's heart ached at the thought of wanting that for himself.

It was why, on his and Ginny's anniversary of moving in together, he whistled a jaunty tune as he jogged up the stairs to their seventh floor flat. His hand found its way into his coat pocket for the millionth time that day, fingering the velvety square box inside. A smile came unbidden to his lips...

...And fell completely off his face as he stepped into the flat.

'Harry!' Ginny scrambled off of Michael Corner, her hands flailing as she yanked at a blanket from the back of the sofa to cover herself up. Michael, eyes round with shock and fear, grabbed his trousers from off the floor and hurried to put them on.

Harry stared at them both, one hand still wrapped around the velvet box in his pocket, face slacked in disbelief.

His eyes fell on the blanket Ginny was using to cover up – it was the same one Molly had knitted for them when they moved in together. His heart broke a little at the thought of all her dreams of having Potter-Weasley grandchildren evaporating into thin air.

It had been a wonderful dream.

Ginny, hair wild and mussed, lips swollen red, stepped forward. His eyes drifted up to her face, twisted in heartbreak.

'Harry...Please,' she whispered, and he had no idea what she was begging him for. He lifted his other hand and cupped her cheek, ignoring the way she flinched a little before he touched her as though he'd ever hit her...Never, never ever. His thumb brushed away a drop of tear from the corner of her eye.

He could smell Michael all over her.

His hand dropped from her cheek and without saying a word to either of them, Harry disapparated on the spot, breaking through the extensive wards around the flat. The alarms would be ringing loud enough to have a team of Hitwizards and Aurors swarming the place within seconds.

He'd let Ginny and Michael deal with that.

He apparated to the alleyway outside a Muggle pub in Scotland, where he and Ron used to frequent back in their trainee days. He didn't think Ginny would try and find him – why would she when she'd already moved on from him without him even knowing about it? – but just in case she did, he didn't want her actually chancing upon him. He needed to be alone and get pissed.

He was on his sixth shot of Muggle tequila – didn't work as well as Firewhisky, but he'd take it – when Ron showed up. Harry was glad he was alone. He didn't think he'd handle Hermione's pity and concern for longer than half a second before dissolving into tears, and he'd been pretty good about keeping it at bay so far.

Ron didn't say a word for the longest time. Harry took his seventh shot.

Ron ordered two more shots – one for himself and one for Harry. They clinked their shot glasses together and tossed it back. Harry was thrown into a flashback of their nights out at the pubs. It's been a while since that's happened.

'You ready to go home?' were Ron's first words to him. Harry had no idea how long after he arrived before he'd spoken. He sounded so grave. It seemed funny to him for some reason.

'Haven't got a home,' was Harry's gloomy reply.

'Don't be a berk,' Ron grabbed him by the arm. 'Of course you do.'

Home, as it turned out, was Ron and Hermione's flat. Ron Side-Along apparated with him to just outside the door, where Harry swayed on the spot, resisting the urge to vomit out his insides.

Harry could hear Ginny's voice coming from inside the flat, teary and desperate as she tried to explain to Hermione. Harry grabbed Ron's arm tighter.

'Ron, I can't,' he whispered and Ron looked like he was about to object but Harry must have looked desperate enough, pathetic enough, that Ron sighed, giving in.

They crashed at Shell Cottage and when Harry woke up the next morning, he had no recollection at all of anything that transpired after they'd arrived at the seaside cottage. Bleary-eyed and cotton-tongued, Harry slid on his glasses to find himself sprawled on Bill and Fleur's couch while Ron and Hermione were smushed up together, asleep in each other's arms, in the huge armchair meant for someone twice Hagrid's size.

Like a terrible train wreck he had no power to stop, Harry suddenly remembered what had led him to get so completely sozzled last night. Looking at his best friends, hands clasped together even in sleep, had his heart aching something fierce so he got up as quietly as he could and made to escape out the back door.

Fleur was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and reading from a girly French magazine full of words he didn't know how to read. Little baby Victoire was in her high chair, mashing up her cereal together in between her hands. Fleur looked up when he stepped through the doorway, and smiled at him slightly when he froze like a deer caught in headlights.

'Bill has gone to work,' she told him. 'Sit down, eat something.'

Something in her lilting French accent made him do as she said – somehow she sounded soothing instead of pitying, even though she must have known the reason Ron had brought him to her home at three in the morning, sloshed out of his mind.

She didn't mention Ginny at all, only flicked her wand to pour him a cup of strong French coffee (Hermione hated the stuff) and put together a plate for him that Ron would've been unable to finish. It was only when Victoire fussed and wanted to be held by Uncle Harry that he felt it to be a bit much – he'd planned for this, a family of his own, and now that was out the window.

Victoire left a sticky kiss to his cheek and, a lump in his throat, he passed the baby off to her concerned-looking mother, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and making his wordless escape out the back door.

Like every visit to Shell Cottage, he stopped by Dobby's grave to say hello and conjure up some fresh flowers and transfigure a rock into a new pair of socks for him. Patting Dobby's headstone, Harry made his way down the beach, the fresh sea breeze sobering him up better than any Hangover Potion could.

A weight in his trouser pocket startled him and he pulled out the ring from its box with a wry laugh. Merlin, how things changed so suddenly...The future he'd envisioned seemed so far from his reality now. It was almost funny, but mostly it just made him sad.

But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he and Ginny would never find their way back to each other. How could they, when he hadn't understood her at all? He'd once thought of her as happy with him when in reality she had been so miserable she'd fallen into the arms of another man. Clearly, he hadn't been able to give her anything she needed and had misunderstood everything between them. There was no trust, no foundation...He had to put her in the past. Hopefully, they'd both find what they needed in life.

Twirling the ring wistfully between his fingers, his mind conjured up a bittersweet fantasy of her walking down the aisle towards him one last time. He curled his hand around the ring and threw it as far out into the ocean as he could, hurling that fantasy away with it.

'What was that?' he heard, and turned around, startled.

Hermione was standing just a few steps behind him, looking at him as concernedly as he feared she would.

He gave her a small smile. 'Nothing,' he shook his head, turning to walk towards her. 'Just a piece of rock.'

Ron was, of course, helping himself to Fleur's breakfast. He'd made a pot of English tea for Hermione that Fleur had wrinkled her nose at.

'So...' Hermione started, and Ron threw her a cautionary look. She ignored it. 'Ginny.'

Harry blinked at her.

She sighed after a few long moments of silence.

'Harry, you have to talk to her,' she prodded gently.

He shook his head. 'No...I...' he sighed. 'There's nothing to say.'

She scoffed disbelievingly. 'Of course there is!' she protested. 'You have to talk to each other about these things!'

'Yes, please remind me of the time you and Ron talked about when you cheated on him with some random bloke,' Harry snapped at her, his anger finally rising to the surface above the numbness. 'Oh, right, that never happened.'

He'd shocked her into silence. Reaching out, he gripped her fingers in a silent apology and she smiled slightly.

'I'm sorry...But I've got nothing to say,' he said finally. 'And nothing I need to hear from her.' When her expression turned into one of abject sympathy once more, he added hastily, 'I'm alright. I swear it.'

'Oh, Harry,' she sighed, reaching out to pat his cheek gently, the action so reminiscent of Molly that he had to allow a small grin. 'You share a home.'

'Not anymore,' he stated firmly.

'You can come crash at ours, mate,' Ron offered.

Harry shook his head. He didn't need Ginny coming to see him at the most obvious place he could choose to stay. He might not need to say anything to her, but he was afraid the words would burst out anyway if he saw her again. He had to stay somewhere she would never be able to get to.

'No, I'll stay at the barracks,' he told them. Even if they told Ginny, she didn't have any clearance to step foot into the Auror barracks, reserved for those on the force who didn't have homes for some reason or had to stay late nights for days on end to work on cases.

Ron's mouth twisted in displeasure and Hermione tried to convince him otherwise, but his mind was made up.

The move into the barracks wasn't a big deal. After a shower and a change into some of Bill's clean clothes, Harry went to the Ministry and put in the necessary paperwork. It was sorted in two hours, during which he went to his cubicle at the Auror Office and set about completing some of the backlogged paperwork for some of his recent cases.

Kingsley called him to his office right when he was done with the paperwork for the Hadley case.

'Your approval to move into the barracks,' was how Kingsley greeted him, waving the paperwork he held in his hand.

Harry stared at him a moment. 'I didn't realize a change of address warranted a visit to the Minister's office,' he quipped.

Kingsley quirked a small smile at him. 'Shut the door, Harry,' he said, and waved to the chair opposite his desk. Once Harry had done as instructed, Kingsley passed the paperwork with his approval stamped on it to him. 'There is something else that I asked you here for.'

Harry resisted the urge to make a snarky comeback.

'I've not asked this of you for a while now because...Well, you seemed settled here,' Kingsley shrugged. 'And I didn't want to disrupt that. I, more than most, know that you deserve the stability that you've helped to restore to our nation.'

Harry eyed him suspiciously.

'There's only one reason a man in a happy relationship moves into the barracks,' Kingsley leaned forward in his chair. 'How are things with Ginny?'

Harry scowled at him. 'No offense, Kings, but even your position as Minister isn't going to make me start talking about girls with you,' he slouched in his seat.

Kingsley chuckled slightly.

'You know about the Americans' war.'

And suddenly it made sense.

'Ah.'

'Yes.'

Harry locked eyes with Kingsley. 'They want me to fight,' he stated flatly.

'Yes.'

Harry sat back in his chair, flashes of the war he'd already fought springing clear as day to the forefront of his mind. An unknown feeling started to bloom at the pit of his stomach, hot and uncomfortable and spreading fast to every nerve ending in his body.

'This is not an order,' Kingsley was quick to add. 'The Americans' war is not ours and though they are our allies, Britain is in a fragile state still. I will not compromise that by joining another war before we've even recovered from the last one.'

Harry watched him carefully. There was something he was hiding. 'But...?' he prompted when Kingsley made no move to continue.

'But,' Kingsley sighed. 'I am sending in a team to assist. Like I said, we're still in a fragile state. I can't risk losing the Americans as our allies.'

Harry leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs and the paperwork with his approval to move into the barracks clasped between his hands.

'Who's in the team?'

'A few aurors, a few Hitwizards...' Kingsley shrugged. 'A curse-breaker or two.'

Catching Harry's eye, Kingsley added, 'They have room for one more.'

'And you want me to join this team?' Harry asked, sounding disbelieving. 'Kingsley, I'm a second year Junior Auror. There must be those who are more qualified than me.'

'None more powerful,' Kingsley retaliated. 'You'll undergo training with the rest of the team before you move out, of course.'

Harry stood up, walking away to stare out the large glass window overlooking the entire first floor of the Ministry, watching as workers hurried along, robes of different colours signifying their jobs swirling by their feet as they rushed by.

'I won't lie. President Hargrove requested for you, personally. But I want to make things clear – you are not obligated to-'

'Yes,' Harry interrupted Kingsley.

Kingsley paused. 'I'm sorry?'

'I'll go,' Harry turned to face him then, taking a moment to revel in the shocked look on his face. 'The team. America. I'll do it.'

'You do realize I'm not expecting an answer right now?' Kingsley was gobsmacked. 'You should take some time to think it over...'

'No. I want to go.'

Kingsley pursed his lips. 'Don't make any rash decisions now, Harry,' he advised, sounding so sage thanks to that deep rumbling voice of his. 'I know things with...Things at home might not be...'

Harry clasped him on the shoulder, interrupting him.

'It's not a rash decision,' he stated firmly. 'I want to go. I need to.'

They stared at each other for a long moment before Kingsley extended a hand towards him. Harry shook his hand, a sense of camaraderie between them. He left the office after Kingsley gave him the relevant information he'd need and made his way back to his cubicle with a certain feeling of accomplishment he relished.

As he settled back into his chair and read through the documents Kingsley had given him, a thought flitted through his mind and made him sit straight up.

That feeling in his stomach from the moment Kingsley had told him about the American war...He knew what it was now. Despite all the losses during the war in Britain, all the pain and suffering he didn't wish to live through again, there was one undeniable thing about who he was – he was a warrior, a soldier. That's who he had been shaped to be. That feeling he'd had was a sense of purpose, a reason for being. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Kingsley he wanted to leave, and as it turned out, he hadn't been lying when he'd said it wasn't a rash decision either.

Days turned into weeks which turned into months and before Harry knew it, it was the night before Ron and Hermione's wedding.

They'd already had their stag do and hen night the week before because Hermione had refused for either of them to show up at their wedding hung-over. Instead, the night before was a loud, festive dinner celebration at the Burrow (she had insisted on having a two-drink restriction for herself and Ron).

It was, also, the first time in months that Harry saw Ginny in person.

Ron had gone to the flat Harry had previously shared with Ginny the day after the breakup (which Molly still referred to as 'the incident') to pack up all of Harry's things. Harry could have kissed him for not telling Ginny where he was despite her insistence. He'd shrunk all of Harry's belongings, put them all in one coat pocket and made his way to the Ministry where he'd placed tiny suitcases and boxes piled into a doll-sized mountain on Harry's desk.

They had an adjoining cubicle and Harry had meant to tell him about his conversation with Kingsley that day itself but he hadn't been able to find the words.

Months later and he still hadn't been able to tell either of them.

He knew he'd worried them both – he was busier than ever, what with his regular Auror duties and the training he was going through with the A Team (a nickname their leader, a large Irishman named Sean Morgan, had given for the wizards and witches going on to fight in the American war; Harry rather liked that he wasn't seen as someone meant to lead in this war as opposed to how he was in the last one).

Thanks to having not told them about the team he'd joined, Harry was unable to explain away the absences and long hours and days where he was suddenly unable to be located.

Despite the huge amount of people in and around the Burrow, it seemed impossible to avoid Ginny. For her part, she spent most of the night looking at him miserably, but never once approaching him.

Thank Merlin for small favours.

He escaped the Burrow as soon as he could, despite the fact that he'd agreed to stay far longer than that. The bride and groom understood.

The morning of Ron and Hermione's wedding, the Prophet ran an article to announce that it was their wedding day, proudly proclaiming how they were war heroes, each recipients of an Order of Merlin First Class, and their accomplishments since the war ended. It stated how the Saviour himself was the groom's best man.

The article was on page two, because page one had a headline that read "Britain to Send Over a Team to Fight in Americans' War".

'You're going, aren't you?' Hermione, not one to believe in superstitions like how it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the wedding day until it was actually time for them to see each other, had barged into the kitchen of their flat, waving the Prophet under his nose. The owl must have just delivered it.

'All the late nights, the disappearing act...Harry, what have you done?' she sounded so lost.

Harry reached out and tugged the paper away, pulling her into a hug. 'It's alright, Hermione,' he whispered into her hair, silky and wavy instead of a mess of curls thanks to a hair appointment she'd gone to with Fleur a the day before at a salon in Paris Fleur swears by. 'I'll be alright.'

Ron had snatched the paper from Hermione to read the article and had turned an interesting shade of puce. 'Bloody hell, Harry,' he dropped his head into his hands. 'Bloody hell.'

'We won't be with you this time,' Hermione reminded him.

'I'll be with others,' Harry reassured her. 'They'll keep me from getting too idiotic.'

She let out a watery laugh, pulling away to swipe at her cheeks.

'We'll call Kingsley,' Ron said suddenly. 'I'm an auror, too. And Hermione's a Ministry employee. They'll let us go with you.'

'Ron,' Harry clapped him on the shoulder, affection swelling in his chest. 'Look around. This is your wedding day. You're not coming with me.'

'We could,' he argued.

'No,' Harry said firmly. 'You'll get married, go on your honeymoon and send me a letter a few weeks from now telling me that your firstborn is on the way and that you're naming him or her after me.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, a fond smile playing on her lips. 'We've had this conversation,' she playfully chided him. 'No child of mine is going to be named Harry Weasley.'

'Or Harriett,' Harry reminded her. 'If it's a girl.'

'Dream on, mate,' Ron stood up to hug Harry, the two holding on tight for a moment. 'I'm gonna kill Ginny,' he muttered when they finally broke apart.

'No, this has nothing to do with her,' Harry insisted. Neither of them looked like they believed him. 'It's true. I want to do this. I feel like I have to.'

He diverted their attention to other, happier, wedding-related things and soon, Fleur arrived to have Hermione properly ready for the wedding and he didn't have to do much at all.

The ceremony was beautiful, a medley of muggle wedding traditions and a Wizarding handfasting. Luna was Hermione's maid of honour and she was a brilliant display of odd beauty. He was caught up in Ron and Hermione's love and it was truly a sight to behold as the happy couple were finally wedded. He gave a heartfelt best man's speech that was directed at the both of them, and gave an honest toast to their future. Luna grew really sloshed during the reception and snogged him silly under an imaginary spring of mistletoe, stumbling away from him afterwards muttering something about wrackspurts under her breath.

'When do you leave?' Ron asked him quietly as he walked the newly wedded couple to their car on their way to their honeymoon as the reception died down.

'Not for a few more weeks,' Harry promised. 'See you when you get back.'

He slapped Ron on the back and kissed Hermione on her cheek and wished the happy couple congratulations one more time. He watched their car drive off before Apparating back to the barracks.

The good thing about living in the barracks was that he didn't have a lot of space for material things. He shared his dorm suite with five other aurors, with two of them sharing one bedroom. He had a single bed, a dresser and a desk, and that was pretty much it. Most of his stuff that Ron had packed up from the flat had been left shrunk in a drawer at his desk. As a result, he didn't really have to do a lot of packing up.

He stuffed some clothes into the same bag he'd taken on his road-trip with Ron and Hermione on what was supposed to have been their seventh year at Hogwarts, some essentials and the uniforms that he'd been provided with. The rest, he shrunk up and dropped off for Ron and Hermione to keep for him at their flat while he was gone.

The night before he was set to leave, Molly threw him a farewell dinner.

He'd wanted to decline – badly – because that was just all sorts of awkward he didn't want to endure. But he knew how much he would hurt her if he had, so he'd suffered in silence. The dinner was, just as he'd feared, awkward and sad. People tried not to be, which he was thankful for.

Ron, however, was the very picture of anger. Hermione confided in a hushed whisper to Harry during a stolen moment that he and Ginny had had words after the newlyweds returned from honeymoon, and that Ron hadn't spoken to his sister since. Harry felt awful about it and made Hermione promise to help them work it out while he was gone.

He was set to meet with the A Team at four in the morning and they were set to travel by International Portkey to a safely guarded MACUSA checkpoint, where they would then travel by Granian horses to the Americans' base of operations against the dark wizard rising up there.

It was a three hour ride and when they finally arrived, campfires raging on either side of them as they walked towards the General's Command Tent, they were greeted by a burly red-headed man who immediately reminded Harry of Charlie.

He greeted Sean Morgan first, and Harry was more pleased by that than he could justify, having been the unwanted centre of attention for so long.

He was shown into their barracks, and settled right back into war and that warm, not-entirely-unpleasant feeling settled back in Harry's stomach.

A sense of purpose.

The first time he saw her, he didn't know that they'd met before.

He'd been injured critically in the line of action, caught by a deadly Dark hex during a battle. They'd rushed him to a medical facility that was nearest to where the battle had taken place – which, as it turned out, was in Berlin, Germany.

His glasses had been thrown askew during the battle and in the ensuing panic and pain, they hadn't really been a priority. He'd drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware of being transported to the medical facility in Berlin, and of Mediwitches and Mediwizards flocking around him to heal him from the hex that had torn him open and shredded him to pieces.

His mind kept flashing back to the bathroom in sixth year, when he'd done the same to someone else. He couldn't help but think this was the universe paying him back for his mistake.

When he finally regained consciousness that lasted for longer than two seconds, it was to the blurry face of a Mediwitch hovering above him.

'You're finally awake,' she sounded cheerful and pretty, a lilt to her voice that sounded familiar to him. He saw the blurry image of her moving closer. She settled something on his face, and his vision suddenly came back into sharp focus. 'Another Mediwitch here is trained in optometrics. She scanned your eyes and had a pair of glasses made for you. I hope it's alright for you.'

Harry blinked as a mirror was placed in front of him. He looked clean shaven and relatively wound-free. There was a new scar across his cheek that he knew would never fade, but otherwise, nothing looked different. His new pair of glasses were stylish, with gold thin frames surrounding the lenses. He touched them self-consciously, unused to the new style.

'I picked out the style,' the Mediwitch said, sounding shy. 'I thought this suited you more than your old pair.'

His eyes snapped to her and he took in her golden hair, long and pulled into a braid down her back, her deep blue eyes and a smile so familiar to that of her sister's.

At his stunned expression, she gave a little laugh and added, 'But if you ask me, you look better without any glasses at all. The hospital staff here will agree with me.'

'Gabrielle,' he greeted her, too shocked at her unexpected presence to blush at her flirtatious compliment. 'What are you doing here?'

She laughed, a tinkling sound that made his heart flutter a tiny bit. 'Being your Mediwitch, of course,' she teased, putting the mirror away.

As it turned out, she was no longer the eight year old he still thought of her as whenever Fleur mentioned her. With a twinge of guilt, he thought back to the times when Fleur would talk of Gabrielle and he'd subconsciously turned that into white noise, barely paying attention.

If he had, he would've known that Gabrielle was now seventeen years old, turning eighteen in just a few short months, and had graduated from Beauxbatons just months ago. She had taken on a Healer internship in France and, as one of their top students, had been given the opportunity to continue that internship at one of the top Wizarding medical institutions in the world – in Berlin.

She had been part of the team that had rushed to save his life when he was brought in.

He stayed in Berlin for three weeks to recover, and she visited him every day. She brought him pudding cups (the only thing they served in the hospital which he found palatable and had grown strangely addicted to), snuck him decent food from outside and played Wizard's chess with him, beating him each and every time while they talked.

She had an air about her that set him at ease from the get go. She flirted with him – constantly; sometimes just to make him blush – and it wasn't because he was the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One or the Saviour or a million other monikers that the press had given him over the years. Her crush on him as a child had long since blossomed into genuine affection and respect. She flirted with him because she found him attractive as a man, and he didn't know how long it's been since he's felt that sort of attention swung his way. Perhaps that wasn't fair to dismiss the other offers he'd gotten as a purely materialistic one, but Gabrielle was the first woman since Ginny whom he'd felt any real sort of connection with.

What shocked him was that the connection they shared, despite being so new and fragile, felt so much stronger than the one he'd shared with Ginny, especially during the last year of their relationship.

Had he been so blind to their crumbling relationship to that extent? He'd been planning to propose to the woman and hadn't even realized that she hadn't been giving him butterflies or sending his heart racing or...Merlin, he was an arse.

The night before he was set to get discharged, Gabrielle snuck into his ward twenty minutes after her shift had ended. She was dressed in regular clothes – not the first time he'd seen her outside her Mediwitch uniform, since she kept him company past her shifts often the past couple of weeks. It was, however, the first time she'd worn a beautiful red dress that flowed to her knees, her long wavy golden blonde hair curling prettily and hanging loose down her back.

'Thought I'd sneak you out of here for a few hours,' she smiled mischievously when he'd asked. 'How do you feel about German beer?'

They went to a pub not far from the hospital – she'd started liking the taste, she admitted with a casual shrug, despite not being in Germany for long. It was a muggle pub and they didn't run a high risk of running into pesky co-workers.

They shared a few pub fares before Harry's stomach rumbled loudly, demanding for a real meal. Gabrielle had laughed, teasing him about his voracious appetite and leading him out of the pub and towards a restaurant not far from where they were that served her favourite dish.

'Are you this insatiable about everything, or only food?' she'd asked, a sly little smile thrown over her shoulder.

It made him stop in his tracks. Quick as lightning, seeker reflexes still strong, he snagged her around the waist and pulled her close.

'I'd love for you to find out,' he murmured against her lips, and it was the boldest thing he'd ever said to a woman and he felt warm all over from it, heat practically roaring from under his collar.

Gabrielle's mouth curved against his into a smile. Her hand, feminine and dainty and perfect, curled around his shirt and pulled him closer.

Perhaps a bit of bold flirting wasn't such a bad thing.

Harry's discharge from the hospital meant that he was physically and medically fit to return to duty. While he was sad that this meant he was no longer able to see Gabrielle every day, he also wanted to return to duty. His fellow soldiers needed him and he wanted to be there to get their backs.

They said goodbye with a chaste kiss at the Floo station in the hospital, down at level one.

'Write to me?' Harry asked, feeling more vulnerable than he could remember ever being.

Gabrielle, eyes tinged a little red, nodded. 'Of course.'

He'd been worried that she wouldn't, that maybe she'd realized being with a soldier who was on a different continent altogether wasn't a good idea. But she did owl him, the letter reaching him by military owl post just days after he returned to base camp.

He read every word like they were gospel, and wrote back immediately once he was done. He tucked her letter into the chest pocket of his protective vest and brought it with him on his next mission. He'd had to take out eight dark wizards and had witnessed the death of three of his own men. He came back to the campsite dirty and worn and haggard, and was rewarded with another letter.

They kept up the correspondence for three months when Harry was given some good news – they'd been given intel that there was a safe house for the dark wizards in Berlin. He was part of the team that was going to infiltrate it.

It meant a few days of surveillance before they'd do anything and he'd managed to finagle a few hours of break during that time. He apparated to Berlin and headed straight for Gabrielle.

She was finishing up her shift at the hospital, which he was not surprised by at all – he'd memorized her schedule during his three-week recuperation. He waited by the front steps for her, knowing that she never Floo'd home, choosing instead to walk since she only lived fifteen minutes away. She enjoyed the view and people-watching. His lips quirked up into a smile at the thought of her.

Merlin, he was mad for her.

A few nurses he might have recognized from his stay came out of the swinging doors, chattering away happily as they left together for what he gathered was a girls' night out. Gabrielle stepped through the doors minutes after them. She was beautiful – wearing casual Muggle clothing and her lovely hair curling around her waist. Her face was soft and free of makeup, and she was rooting around in her bag for something, completely unaware of his presence.

He stepped towards her and she stopped cold, head still bowed. Heart racing, he kept his disillusionment charm on as he watched her for a moment. Her head snapped up and she looked straight in his direction. Her eyebrows pulled together, lips pursed, as she stared at what must have looked like thin air.

The corner of his mouth quirking up, Harry removed his disillusionment charm with barely a flick of his fingers, eyes trained on hers. Her beautiful ocean blues cleared as she finally caught sight of him. Her mouth curved into a gorgeous smile, wide and honest.

'Harry!' she threw an arm around him and slanted her lips against his. 'I can't believe you're here!'

'Only for a few hours,' he warned, breathing in the scent of her, one arm wrapped around her dainty waist and one hand sunk into that soft golden hair.

She pulled back to smile at him slyly. 'We better make good use of our time, then,' she Side-Alonged him to just outside her flat. Though she'd been so confident not two seconds before, she suddenly looked shy as she peered at him through thick lashes, 'Come inside?'

She was Aphrodite reincarnate.

'Yes, please.'

They fell into a tangle of lips and hands and entwined limbs, clothes Vanished and gasping out each other's names against her kitchen counter. She had Muggle appliances in her flat, which he was surprised by, and she used the landline to call a local takeaway she promised he'd enjoy.

They actually made it to the bed for a second go and were soaping each other up in her shower after a third when the doorbell rang. She'd ordered Indian, which was one of his favourites, and the smell had him salivating enough to abandon the heaven of a hot shower and join her in the living room.

Unlike her sister, who would have had a tizzy fit if anyone even suggested having tea in the living room, Gabrielle was much more laidback. She'd taken out the containers of food and placed them on her coffee table and was tucking into some spicy vegetarian biryani when he joined her. She smiled at him, smelling of jasmine and vanilla, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He wondered if that was because of the spicy rice or because she was remembering everything they'd been up to the past hour and a half, because with her blushing and looking at him like that, his memory was certainly replaying everything in vivid detail.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, warm under his lips, and watched as she turned an even lovelier shade of pink.

In between bites of naan, Harry summoned his coat from where it had fallen somewhere between the front door and the mud room.

'I have something for you,' he told Gabrielle, watching as her eyes lit up in curiosity. 'I'd planned on bringing this to you on your birthday – had my leave all set and everything, but I got caught up undercover.'

She had turned eighteen just five weeks ago, and he really had planned on being in Berlin for it. They hadn't revealed their new relationship to her family yet – or to anyone in either of their lives. It was too new and felt too fragile and, frankly, Harry wanted to keep her all to himself just for a little while longer. It was a strange feeling, wanting this to be a secret and wanting to shout it from the rooftops at the same time.

Her parents, Fleur and Bill had planned on coming to Berlin to visit her for her birthday and it had been planned out ahead that she'd informed him of this in one of her letters. She'd invited him to come along for her birthday dinner with them, a shy question tacked on almost hidden away in one of her letters. He'd pondered on that for a while – he'd no idea how Bill and Fleur would react to their relationship when his last one had been with Bill's sister.

He'd agreed to it after some thought – whatever it was he had with Gabrielle, he didn't regret a bit of it. Ultimately, however, a day before he was set to leave for Berlin, they had an urgent mission that he couldn't miss out on. He'd sent a last minute owl to her, hoping it got to her before her dinner, and had left on a mission that had left him three weeks without any outside interaction.

He'd returned to camp with a letter from her waiting in his tent. She'd been disappointed but understanding. He wondered what he'd ever done to deserve her.

'Oh! Harry, you didn't have to...' she trailed off, a pleased smile belying her words. He grinned at her and held out the wrapped rectangle package to her. Putting aside her rice, she took her present from him and unwrapped it, delicate and precise. She flicked open the jewellery box and gasped as she took in the delicate gold bracelet.

It was a charm bracelet, with dangling pearls and diamonds in between tiny little gold lilies with petals made out of emeralds. It had been in his family vault, with an inscription on the inside of the velvet box which told him that his father had specially commissioned the bracelet for his mother right after their engagement. He had been incredibly protective of every single bit of his parents he could find – the bracelet included – but something deep in his bones told him he had to give it to Gabrielle. It was that same instinct which told him that whatever it was they shared, as undefined as it was at the moment, was a serious thing for him.

Gabrielle gently traced one emerald petal before her fingers brushed against the inscription James Potter had placed on the inside of the box's lid. To My Dearest Lily Flower...You Are My Life, My Love, My Forever.

She lifted her gaze to meet his, and he noted with some alarm that her blue eyes were swimming in tears.

'Harry...This belonged to your mother?'

He nodded.

'I can't take this...This must mean so much to you,' she whispered, reverent gaze dropping back to the bracelet.

'You mean more to me,' he confessed in a voice so soft she could barely hear him. Unable to meet her shocked gaze for the moment, he gently lifted the bracelet out of its box and clasped it around her delicate wrist.

'It's beautiful,' Gabrielle beamed at him, and her smile gave him butterflies and erased his anxieties in one fell swoop.

Cupping her cheek in his palm, he leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss. 'I know this thing between us is new,' he cleared his throat, uncomfortable with being so open about his heart. 'But I want you to know...I'm all in.'

He fell backwards a little when she suddenly threw herself at him, the two of them giggling a little as he eased them into a more comfortable position on her soft rug. She kissed him playfully, loudly, a few hundred times, smacking her lips against his mouth and cheek and nose and fogging up his glasses purposely. He laughed, feeling carefree in a way that he'd forgotten to be thanks to being in a second war in his short almost-twenty-four years of life.

Sighing happily, Gabrielle leaned down and tucked her head under his chin, snuggling her body fully into his.

'I'm all in, too,' she confided in a hushed whisper, and turned her head slightly to press a kiss onto his bare chest when she felt his arms tighten around her in response.

He had two hours of bliss left with her, and the second time saying goodbye to her was just as hard as the first. This time, he was the one who wrote to her first.

Their first Christmas together was in December 2004, and Harry would never forget the way the snow fell around her as they shared a languid kiss out on her terrace. Despite the below freezing temperature, he felt hot all over as they embraced, and it had absolutely nothing to do with warming charms.

They'd been together for ten months now, but it felt like barely any time had passed at all. Most of their relationship consisted of correspondence by way of letters – he'd only managed to snag a few hours (or even a day or two, if he was lucky) here and there to visit her in Germany. They'd probably spent less than a cumulative six weeks in each other's physical presence in those ten months, and he'd never gotten rid of the fear that she would tire of their limited relationship and find someone new.

As it turned out, their first Christmas together was spent two and a half weeks before the actual day itself – he had to be back at camp for a mission they'd prepped for and planned for weeks. It had been a mission that he'd been the one in charge of strategizing and they had delayed carrying it out when they'd been ambushed by dark wizards a few weeks prior. They'd had to regroup – some of them had to heal, some had to be sent home to be buried – and set up a new campground, and it had delayed things quite a bit.

Harry and Gabrielle had planned on visiting England together – Mr and Mrs Delacour were going to spend Christmas at Shell Cottage, and so was Gabrielle. The two were planning on letting the Weasleys and the Delacours know of their relationship, finally, but with Harry only managing to be away from camp for a day and a half mid-December, they were going to have to postpone their announcement.

Gabrielle was as understanding as ever, reassuring him that the next time he was able and free, they'd find a way to tell their families about them in person – she felt it was bad form to let them know in a letter.

They exchanged presents early, but promised one another not to open them until Christmas.

He woke up on Christmas Day in an abandoned warehouse in Alaska, freezing his bollocks off because somehow the cold had managed to penetrate through his warming charms during the night. Shivering slightly and strengthening the charms, he checked on the perimeter and his fellow soldiers before settling down with a mug of hot chocolate and twirling Gabrielle's present in his hands. He'd shrunk it down to fit inside his pocket and had carried it around with him for two weeks.

He un-shrunk it and unwrapped it, smiling as he revealed a care package tucked inside a picnic basket. It was filled with wonderfully comforting things – a large jar of cocoa powder (Merlin, he's ready to throw out his mug of barely-tolerable instant swill they've got masquerading as hot chocolate and whip up a new batch of the good stuff any minute now), another of French coffee beans (the brand he likes, imported from a Wizarding village in Nice – he'd gotten addicted to it thanks to Gabrielle), a couple pair of mittens, warm soft woollen blankets , some snacks and protein bars, a couple of books she knew he'd love...And a couple of very raunchy letters that had him grinning late into the night.

He was finally able to schedule a trip to see her in late January and, wanting to surprise those closest to them, they planned for a little tricky reveal.

Gabrielle asked for Bill and Fleur to meet her at their parents' villa in the Caribbean, where her parents had gone to after their Christmas in England. It was wonderfully warm when she got to the Portkey Station at St. Bart's and she gratefully shed two layers of winter clothing. Bill and Fleur were already there, drinking some of her mother's favourite elf wine with her parents on the terrace.

'Maman! Papa!' Gabrielle greeted them both enthusiastically before turning to greet Bill with a kiss to each cheek. She and Fleur shared a longer embrace – she'd missed her sister so much during her time away in Berlin. Even before that, what with Fleur having a British husband and permanently relocating to England for the foreseeable future, they'd been separated since Gabrielle still hadn't completed her education at Beauxbatons.

A fleeting thought of a future with Harry which could perhaps someday lead to her having a home in Britain made her stomach flutter.

Halfway through wine and cheese, Gabrielle casually brought up the subject of having had invited someone special for dinner later that night.

Her parents exchanged a look, anxious and hopeful all at once.

'By someone special, you mean a man, yes?' her mother enquired, arching one perfectly shaped brow.

Gabrielle blushed slightly. 'Yes,' she confirmed, and Fleur leaned forward, her eyes wide.

'You didn't tell me you were seeing someone!' her sister chided. 'You're bringing him home to meet the family? This is a serious thing, then?'

Gabrielle nodded, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. 'Quite serious, I think,' she answered.

Her parents and Fleur grilled her on her 'mysterious suitor', with Apolline calling upon their house elf to make special arrangements for dinner and adding three more to the guest list. Bill stayed mostly silent, bless his heart, only teasing her once in a while when the questions grew too intense.

She answered their questions as best as she could, and was honest about them all, but she steadfastly refused to reveal his identity. She also didn't reveal that he wouldn't, in fact, be arriving with his parents as her family had assumed, but with his two best friends. They'd know soon enough.

For Harry's part, he'd asked Ron and Hermione to visit him in America for a few days, saying that he had a few days off but was unable to travel to England for the time being. They'd honoured his request, showing up at the Portkey Station in New York City, only to be whisked away to the Caribbean on a surprise they didn't have time to react to.

Harry took them to a hotel where he'd booked two rooms, and sat down with his best mates on the balcony of their room to tell them the truth before dinner.

'We're in St. Bart's,' Hermione said the moment the three sat down on the patio furniture out on the balcony.

'Yes,' Harry met her gaze steadily. She would figure it out all on her own. Ron still looked a bit lost, but Harry suspected he'd catch on soon – he was one of the top trainees in the Auror Academy.

'Why the sudden change in location, Harry?' Ron asked, eyebrows pulling together.

Harry shrugged. 'There's something I've been wanting to tell you both,' he said slowly, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat when he saw that he's gotten their undivided attention. 'I've sort of been...Seeing someone.'

'Seeing someone!?' Ron yelped. 'Bloody hell, Harry. How'd you manage to find a bird in the middle of a war!?'

Hermione glared at her husband, elbow digging into his ribs. 'We're very happy for you, of course,' she said, a spokesperson for the Granger-Weasley tribe. 'But...I'm curious as well.'

'That's why I've brought you here,' Harry told them. 'It's been going on for a while and...I wanted her to meet the two most important people in my life.'

Hermione flushed pink, a pleased smile curving on her lips.

'You could've said something earlier, mate,' Ron clapped him on the back. 'Bill and Fleur took a Portkey to St Bart's this morning – they're having a family get-together with their parents and Fleur's sister. Reckon we could've just shared a Portkey.'

Hermione's sharp brown eyes were now trained on him unrelentingly. 'Gabrielle's working as a Mediwitch in Germany,' she said slowly. 'I heard they've got a medical facility there that caters to American soldiers hit in the battlefield.'

Harry grinned at her.

Hermione gasped, hand fluttering to her chest. Ron stared at her for a moment before he caught on as well.

'You and Fleur's sister!?' he yelped. 'Bloody hell!'

'How serious is it?' Hermione whispered, eyes round.

'As serious as a killing curse.'

He was anxious about Ron's reaction more than Hermione – though she'd wanted Harry to work things out with Ginny when things had gone belly up for them, she would support him whatever he chose, as long as it made him happy. Ron, however, had had a certain image of what their future would be like and Harry as his brother-in-law was a dream he'd been unable to let go of since their last year at Hogwarts. Sometimes he felt that Ron had taken Harry's breakup with Ginny harder than he had.

He had nothing to worry about, however. Hermione had hugged him tight, tears in her eyes, and Ron had ordered up a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

They left the hotel at half past six to apparate to the address Gabrielle had given him. She greeted them at the entrance to the expansive villa overlooking the ocean.

'I haven't told them who you are,' were her first words to him as they embraced. 'I wanted it to be a surprise.'

Harry laughed, nerves running rampant.

Despite the initial shock, Gabrielle's entire family – Bill included – were thrilled that Harry was the man she'd been seeing. Harry was concerned that Fleur, a very protective sister, would frown upon their age difference but she'd waved away his reassurances of treating Gabrielle right.

'I know you will,' she told him, grinning wide. 'I know who you are. And it would be hypocritical of me to say you're too old for my sister. Bill and I are far apart in age, according to some.'

The dinner was a success and Harry, Ron and Hermione were told very sternly by Apolline that they were, under no circumstances, to return to their hotel. Instead, they were to stay in the villa with the Delacours. It was only awkward when it came time for sleeping arrangements but Gabrielle had made her way to his room in the middle of the night anyway.

He'd only been able to stay until lunch the next day before he had to report back to camp. He shared a lingering kiss with Gabrielle, promising letters and future visits and she promised care packages (she was very good at putting together baskets full of things that he really needed).

Ron and Hermione stayed in St Bart's for a few days more, enjoying a second honeymoon during their time off of work. When they returned to England, they'd broken the news of Harry and Gabrielle's relationship to the Weasley's. According to Hermione's delicately-worded letter, Molly had been disappointed and happy at the same time. The Weasleys were, largely, supportive though Hermione made no mention of Ginny's reaction to it all. Harry supposed it didn't matter – he hadn't actually thought of her at all since Gabrielle made her way into his life and heart, and he could only assume that Ginny hadn't thought of him since Michael.

Things progressed heavily on the warfront the next several months and by the time he was awarded the chance to breathe outside the sandbox for a few moments again, it was already June again. He stuck by his promise to be there for Gabrielle's birthday this time, singing (and butchering) the French version of Happy Birthday with the rest of the Delacours at their family home in the French Riviera.

The Delacours might be a small family, but they were as raucous as the Weasleys – it was easy to see why Fleur fit in so well with the red-headed bunch. They were a more sophisticated family, but throw in a party and elf wine and they were louder than nine Weasleys at supper. They also loved to throw a good party for any reason – and Gabrielle's 19th birthday was no exception. Harry and Gabrielle were paraded around in front of about a hundred and fifty of Apolline and Hermes Delacour's friends and family. Harry didn't mind much – neither of Gabrielle's parents showed him off because he was Harry Potter. They showed him off because he was the man Gabrielle loved. It felt wonderful, despite his usual hatred of being the centre of attention.

They caught a break from the mostly drunk party-goers a little past midnight. Sneaking away, they made their way to the gazebo out by the pool, a bottle of wine and two empty glasses filched from the serving bar.

'How is it possible that none of them are tired yet?' Harry moaned, flopping down on one of the Very Comfortable cushioned sun lounger.

Gabrielle giggled and poured them a glass of wine each. 'Wimp,' she teased.

He grinned, pulling her down to lie next to him, managing not to upend the wine glasses in the process. She yelped in surprise before snuggling in close. He turned his head enough to bury his nose in her hair, breathing in her lovely scent and pressing a kiss to her head.

'You know...the war seems to be winding down,' he confessed to her quietly, his voice almost being drowned out by the hammering of his heart.

Gabrielle had been tracing patterns in his chest but, at this, her movements froze. She stayed still and silent for a long moment before she spoke, 'Is it now?'

Harry nodded. 'Negotiations have been taking place quite successfully...It won't be today or tomorrow or even next month...But we're seeing a light at the end of the tunnel,' he felt a little lighter saying that. Despite having wanted to be a part of the A Team, being away from home for so long was taking its toll on him.

Gabrielle sighed, a little puff of warm air feathering over the skin at his throat. 'What will you do when it ends?' she asked, though she sounded as if she already knew the answer.

'Return to England, I reckon,' was his immediate response. He felt her nod against his shoulder. He supposed it wasn't really a surprise, after all – his life was in England, everything he knew. His future, however, was residing in an entirely different part of the world.

'Gabbie...' he sat up, pulling her up with him. 'I'm not asking you to promise me anything but just to think about it...Perhaps, once the war is over, you might consider joining me in England?'

Her eyes were wide with shock, but her expression slowly settled into one of deep pleasure. 'Do you want me there?' she asked him tentatively.

'With all my heart,' was his earnest response. 'I love you, Gabrielle, much more than I have loved anyone else...And I see a future with you. A good future. A happy one. I hope you feel the same.'

'I do,' she wrapped her long arms around his neck and pulled him as close as she dared in her parents' garden. 'I love you, too, Harry,' she kissed him deep, her mind racing as she thought of his request.

She was never one to dawdle and once her mind had been made up regarding the issue, she'd set about to make things happen. So much so that when he'd had the opportunity to celebrate his birthday with a night off a month and a half later, Gabrielle had already set things into motion.

This time, they were in New York City, Ron and Hermione having come down to celebrate with them. Harry had booked them two suites at the Plaza Hotel, a muggle hotel that Gabrielle's parents often stayed at whenever they travelled to the Big Apple. It was within walking distance of many Wizarding spots in NYC, and only two Floo-grates away from the nearest Wizarding pub to the centre of the magical shopping hub.

They'd had a lavish birthday brunch at the Plaza itself, followed by some touristy sightseeing and shopping around town, both in the muggle and Wizarding districts. After a particularly long session in a bookshop (thanks to Hermione), they'd went back to the hotel to drop off their packages and freshen up. Dinner had been at a fancy "authentic" Italian restaurant (Harry had fallen in love with their pasta, and Ron had demolished most of the large pizza the four were meant to share) and now they were having a nightcap at The Blind Pig, a historic Wizarding pub not too far away from the hotel.

Harry and Ron were at the bar, waiting for the goblin behind it to serve their drinks, and Harry had been distracted just as he had been all night, blown away by how beautiful Gabrielle looked. She was glowing, almost, a permanent smile on her face she laughed and spoke freely with his best friends. It made his chest grow tight at the thought of how well she got along with Ron and Hermione – and how much they'd taken to her, as well. It was important to him that they got along.

He peered over his shoulder to catch sight of her once more, a smile tugging at his lips when she threw her head back and laughed at whatever it was Hermione was saying. He stared, mouth watering, at the long elegant line of her neck and the curve of her full lips as she spoke animatedly with Hermione.

Ron, seeing Harry getting googly-eyed yet again for the millionth time that day, shook his head and was going to make some funny remark about his best mate being so whipped, but Harry spoke out before he could.

'I'm going to ask her to marry me.'

Ron stared, jaw dropping.

Harry reeled back, blinking his eyes rapidly a few times, as though he couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud. Truth be told, despite having thought a lot about his future with Gabrielle, he hadn't planned on proposing for some time yet. The war was still on, he and Gabrielle still lived in different countries and they hadn't yet come up with a plan to rectify that. But looking at her, being around her...He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted to be given the privilege of calling her his wife.

'I'm going to ask her to marry me,' Harry repeated, conviction in his voice and awe colouring his tone.

Ron was still a little shell-shocked. The night after Harry and Ginny's bust-up, Hermione had confessed to him that she'd caught him throwing something into the ocean at Bill and Fleur's seaside home. She'd believed it to be a ring, and he'd been thrown by that. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about proposing marriage to his sister, but he'd been saddened rather than angry about it. It had felt like his heart had broken alongside Harry's.

Harry had been so closed-off after that. There were months between the break-up and Harry leaving for the American war, and he'd spent most of it isolated, unable to even think of a new romance. He'd had a few one-offs, with muggle women more often than not, since he didn't want some sort of Prophet article written up about his one-night-stands. But he'd mostly kept to himself, quiet and aloof and it had been...Sad.

Ron had hoped that he'd be open to someone else, even if that meant Ron wouldn't get the chance to call him his brother, officially.

This thing with Gabrielle...It had healed Harry's heart, he could tell.

And if marrying her was what Harry wanted, then Ron was going to do nothing but support him.

Clapping him on the back, Ron let his happiness show. 'Congratulations, mate,' he grinned. 'About time, too.'

'Let's not get too hasty,' Harry shook his head, levitating their newly arrived drinks back to the table. 'She hasn't said yes.'

'Might help if you ask first.'

Despite his moment of enlightenment at the pub, Harry had decided against asking Gabrielle without any sort of preparation. She might not be as high-maintenance as her sister, but she would still want a special proposal. She deserved it.

As they got ready for bed back at their suite, Gabrielle snuggled close to Harry, heavy hotel blanket drawn up to their chins.

'I've got to tell you something,' she whispered in the dark.

'Something good?'

'I hope you think so,' she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. 'My internship is coming to an end. I've applied for an apprenticeship...At St. Mungo's.'

He sat up abruptly, reaching blindly for the lamp on the bedside desk and turning it on. She'd sat up with him, an anxious look on her face.

'Really?' he asked, blinking owlishly at her. The sudden glare of the light had faded and, this close to her, he could see her clearly even without his spectacles. At her nod, he pulled her into a tight hug, surprising her. She laughed a little, hugging him back. 'Are you sure?' he had to ask. 'I...You mentioned once about wanting to work in Paris.'

Gabrielle shrugged. 'Perhaps one day I will...Or perhaps we'll just visit there on holidays a lot,' she beamed at him. 'I thought about what you said, Harry, and I see a future with you too. And if that future happens to include a lot of dreary, rainy, foggy days in England...Then so be it.'

'Hey!' Harry protested playfully, tackling her down onto the bed so that he was lying directly on top of her. 'Gabbie...I'm so happy right now,' he confessed, his voice a hushed whisper as though he was scared that saying it just a smidge louder would allow the universe to take it all away from him.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, keeping him in place with her. Her hands smoothed down his back and tangled in his messy, perpetually untameable hair. She wondered if their children would have hair like his. 'So am I, you silly man,' she murmured into his mouth.

They fell asleep an hour later, little children with wild black hair and stunning emerald eyes running rampant in her dreams.

Harry was away from England for two years, as long as the American war lasted.

The Americans had a more militarized approach to war, as it turned out, and the A Team had been given military ranks as well.

Despite not wanting to be the centre of attention, Harry had risen in the ranks anyway. He'd gone through several in-field promotions and had been Sergeant Major for Morgan when the man was killed in action. He'd been promoted to Command Sergeant Major, replacing Morgan, two minutes after they'd had a moment of silence for him. It had been tough, but he'd carried out his duty just as he'd been trained to do.

He'd been given a Gold Star and a Medal of Valour by the MACUSA President himself, service awards given to those who'd shown exceptional acts of integrity and heroism in battle. He'd blushed and stammered through the whole ceremony and had escaped as soon as propriety allowed him.

He'd owled Ron and Hermione the night of the award ceremony and made it home by December 23rd.

He'd gone straight to Ron and Hermione's new place – a cottage in Scotland that they Floo'd to work in London from every day. It was beautiful and homey and cosy and the perfect place for them to raise the sprog that Hermione was pregnant with. She was only four months along – they'd owled him about it only six weeks ago – and he could tell she was carrying only when she'd hugged him enthusiastically, her stomach pressing against his.

'Look at you!' she gushed, pulling back to cup his face in her hands, brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears, as though they hadn't just seen each other five months ago for his birthday in New York.

'Look at you!' he countered, grinning wildly. 'You're glowing. You're beautiful.'

'Oy,' Ron's voice boomed out, and Harry peered over Hermione's shoulder to face his best mate after what felt like forever without seeing him. 'Hands off my wife, Potter.'

His heart thudding painfully at being reunited with the two out of four people whom he loved most (the other two being Gabrielle and his not-so-little-anymore godson Teddy, of course), Harry pulled apart from Hermione's embrace to slam into Ron. 'Good to see you, Ron,' he grinned, chest warm as Ron patted him on the back and ruffled his hair.

Out of the two of them, the kitchen was Ron's domain –he'd been raised by Molly and he was almost as obsessed about food as he was about Hermione. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't have a single shred of talent when it came to cooking. After one too many burnt pancakes and lumpy pasta, Ron had taken over kitchen duty permanently. Harry had swapped days with Ron back when he was still living with them.

Now, they sat around Ron and Hermione's dining table with a dinner Ron had prepared full of Harry's favourite dishes – his shepherd's pie was second only to the one the Hogwarts house elves made, beating out even Molly's.

'How are things at the shop?' Harry asked Ron, even though he knew fully well thanks to the last letter Ron and Hermione had owled him a couple of weeks ago.

Ron had given up his mantle as an Auror mere months after Harry's departure. It hadn't felt the same without Harry there and, if he'd been honest with himself, it hadn't been the same without Hermione to complete their crime-fighting trio either. Feeling more and more dissatisfied with his job in the Auror department, Ron had agreed to take on some part-time shifts at George's shop only to slowly find himself spending more time and effort there than he was at the Ministry. It had only been a matter of filing out the official paperwork to resign from the department and work full-time with George.

Two years later and Ron wasn't just an employee of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but an equal partner and shareholder.

'The shop's brilliant,' Ron told him. 'The Hogsmeade location is set to open on the first student weekend after Christmas...It's going to be wicked.'

Hermione regaled them all with tales of her new position at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and was thrilled to discover that Harry would be rejoining the Auror department.

'When?' she asked, having missed both of them being at the Ministry with her.

Harry shrugged. 'I have a meeting with Kingsley tomorrow morning. All of us who made it back do. We've all been guaranteed spots in our old jobs, should we want it,' he said, spooning another helping of shepherd's pie onto his plate.

Ron eyed him speculatively. 'Do you want it?' he asked.

Harry grinned. 'What else would I do?' he chuckled. 'I just hope that pompous git Zacharias Smith hasn't been promoted ahead of me now.'

'I wouldn't be too worried,' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I get four incident reports a month on my desk involving Smith. He's gone through six partners and he's got the lowest solve rate in the department.'

Ron forbade any further discussions about work and conversation turned pleasantly to Gabrielle and the preparations Ron and Hermione had done for the nursery so far. Hermione had dragged him to see it before they had dessert (Molly had sent over some of her famous fudge and Harry had been thrilled).

Harry went to bed in Ron and Hermione's guest bedroom after a long hot shower, clean shaven and wearing civilian clothes for the first time in what felt like forever. He had a dreamless sleep which satisfied him enough to make him lazy to get out of bed the next morning. He had an incentive however – seeing Teddy.

His first errand of the day was his meeting with Kingsley at the Ministry.

As it turned out, not only had Zacharias Smith not been promoted above him, Harry was returning to the Auror department with a new rank, higher than the one he'd had before he'd left.

'You're double the war hero, Harry,' Kingsley told him behind closed doors in the Minister's office. The A Team had all had one-on-one meetings with the Minister, and Harry's turn was just a series of awkward accolades. 'President Hargrove insisted that you be awarded another Order of Merlin...I'm inclined to agree.'

'The war had nothing to do with Britain,' Harry argued.

'You and I both know it was spreading our way,' Kingsley corrected him. 'We're not ready for another devastation...Your involvement in the war, and helping them win it, has made the Americans happy. President Hargrove and I are arranging for a summit, to work out a new alliance between Britain and America...I want you at that summit.'

'I wasn't a one-man team, Kingsley,' Harry protested heavily.

'By the end of it, you were leading the war to victory.'

Despite his protests, Harry was still scheduled to receive his second Order of Merlin, at a ceremony just shy of Valentine's Day.

He left Kingsley's office feeling conflicted but by the time he reached Andromeda's house, he'd mostly convinced himself to focus only on the good parts of what they'd discussed.

Teddy greeted him before he'd even reached the front door, hurtling out of the house and barrelling into him halfway down the drive, almost knocking him over. Harry gripped him tight, a lump forming in his throat as he took in how much Teddy had grown while he was away. The last time he'd been able to visit Teddy was over six months ago, and he'd shot up even more since then.

His hair had been a loud purple colour when he'd run out to greet Harry but it had slowly turned into an inky black colour to match his godfather.

'Teddy! Look at how tall you are now!' Harry grinned, ruffling that black hair affectionately.

'I'm taller than everyone in my class now, Harry!' the seven year old bragged.

'Are you sure you're not a Weasley?' Harry teased. Teddy laughed, pleased, and his hair morphed into a Weasley-red.

Harry had a week off between arriving home and starting up with the Aurors again, so he took the time to get settled in.

Gabrielle's internship was ending in two weeks' time and she would be arriving in England immediately after that, ready to start her apprenticeship at St. Mungo's. She'd gone through a very thorough application and screening process, and had been accepted back in November.

He spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with Gabrielle at her flat in Berlin, helping her pack most of it up. He shrunk them into tiny little packages and dropped it into his coat pocket to bring back to England. She went with him, spending Christmas Day with the Weasleys at the Burrow.

Harry had been wary that it would be awkward with the Weasleys – the last time he'd spent a Christmas at the Burrow, he had been in a romantic relationship with Ginny after all. But he needn't have worried at all. Ron, Hermione, Bill and Fleur had broken the news of his relationship with Gabrielle when he was still on the frontline of the American war. That had been months ago and, by now, it was old news to them.

It was, however, the first time they were seeing it in person but they adapted quickly enough to it.

'Who knew this speccy git with all that ugly on his face could get a quarter Veela to fall for him?' George joked, elbowing Harry and winking. Gabrielle giggled. Harry would endure all of George's horrid jokes just to get her to laugh like that again, the anxious tension around her shoulders easing away before she'd even taken her first sip of Molly's elderflower wine.

'George, please!' Molly chided, levitating five more full serving dishes of homemade food that had Harry salivating from the smell the moment he entered the Burrow. The dishes settled slowly on the table, and everyone dug in enthusiastically, chatter and laughter almost deafening around them. 'Gabrielle, you're a Healer, Fleur said?'

Gabrielle smiled as she scooped a small portion of potatoes, easily an eighth of the portion Ron had piled onto his plate, 'A MediWitch, actually. I am planning on becoming a Healer, however.'

'Figures you'd get a Healer,' Charlie thumped Harry on the back. 'What with spending most of your time in hospitals, anyway.'

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at the good-natured ribbing.

Dinner went spectacularly – the food was amazing, the wine gave him a pleasant buzz and Gabrielle was made an honorary Weasley by the time pudding was served. The only sore point was when Harry politely enquired regarding Ginny.

The table went a bit silent at that.

'She's...Uh, she's spending Christmas somewhere else,' Molly said, a tight smile on her face as she gave him third helpings of treacle tart. 'Eat up, dearie.'

Harry shot her a look, eyes flicking over everyone's embarrassed faces. 'Guys, if she's spending Christmas with a boyfriend, you can say it, you know?' he laughed a little, reaching out to drape an arm across Gabrielle's shoulders. 'We've all moved on, yes?'

And it was true, he realized with a jolt. Thinking of Ginny with someone else – anyone at all, be it Michael Corner or a new face – didn't hurt the way it used to. He felt nothing except perhaps a little relief and joy. Relief because...It always felt like he was responsible for ruining his relationship with Ginny, never being there for her, always chasing after dark wizards instead of building a life with her. If she'd moved on and was happy with someone else, it felt a little like he was absolved of his guilt. Their failed relationship didn't matter anymore. She was happy, and with that, came joy as well. He wanted her to be happy.

Despite his assurances, things still felt a little awkward.

Molly sent Harry, Gabrielle, Ron and Hermione off with extra leftovers enough to last them well past the New Year. While Hermione and Gabrielle went for their respective bathrooms at Ron and Hermione's cottage, taking first showers to remove makeup and get cleaned after hours at dinner with the Burrow, Harry and Ron had a nightcap in Ron's living room.

'I should've told you before,' Ron sighed, downing his first glass of Firewhisky before pouring himself another. 'I thought maybe you'd read about it in the papers...But you're not exactly a gossip column sort of bloke, are you?'

Harry stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

'It's about Ginny.'

Harry started. They might not be together anymore, but he would always care for her. 'Is she alright?' he asked, concerned.

Ron pulled a face. 'Depends on who you ask, these days,' he muttered, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his reddened neck. 'You were right – she's seeing someone.'

Harry relaxed, sighing in relief. 'Ron, you scared me,' he clocked Ron on the arm. 'I thought something was wrong.'

'Technically, something is wrong,' Ron said tentatively. 'She's seeing a married man.'

Harry blinked.

'Daniel Gregson. He's the new owner of the Falcons, comes from a rich family...' Ron shook his head. 'Ginny met him during a Falcons-Harpies match. They've been seeing each other in secret for months. His wife found out and sold the story to the press. It's been a huge mess.'

Harry frowned. 'This doesn't sound anything like Ginny at all,' he said, slowly sinking into the comfy little armchair that Hermione had bought in muggle London. Ron fell asleep in it often, but whenever Harry came over, that armchair was his.

Ron snorted into his glass. 'Yeah, she's done a lot of things that doesn't sound like her these past few years,' he agreed. 'She and mum had a big row about it...I've never seen dad that lost before. She stormed out and we've not really heard from her since. We just read about her in the papers, like everyone else does.'

'So she was spending Christmas with him?'

Ron shrugged, 'Dunno, really. Heard Gregson was on the outs with his wife...Headed for divorce. She could be with him right now, but we've got to wait for page six of the Prophet to come out to know for sure.'

Harry had never heard him sound so bitter. He stood up from the Most Comfortable Armchair and walked over to Ron, clapping him on the back. 'I'm sorry,' he said, meaning it with every fibre of his being.

Ron shook his head. 'Nothing for you to be sorry for,' he reassured Harry. 'You were just the first person she's hurt when she went on this bender.'

Nothing more was said of it.

After Gabrielle and Hermione were done freshening up, Ron and Harry did so next. They converged in the living room, where Hermione had made popcorn and hot chocolate for everyone, and watched Christmas movies on the telly Ron had insisted they have in their new home (he'd gotten addicted to muggle films when Hermione had taken him to the cinema for dates in muggle London after their schooling years at Hogwarts, and he had been thrilled at the idea of a smaller, similar technology that he could have in his own home; Hermione, who wasn't a fan of the telly, hadn't been so happy about it).

Snuggling together with Gabrielle under a Molly Weasley-made blanket, Harry let his concerns for Ginny slip away, leaving nothing behind but a sense of contentment at being with the people he cared for the most in the world.

Harry and Gabrielle visited her parents on Boxing Day and, the day after that, they hurried back to London where they took a look around for a temporary flat to rent.

They found a place near Diagon, in muggle London, which was right smack dab between Auror headquarters at the Ministry and the hidden entrance to St. Mungo's. It was tiny but cosy and warm and pretty, and Gabrielle loved it on sight. It was a temporary move anyway – Harry had other ideas about where to start living the rest of their lives.

While Gabrielle returned to Berlin to continue the last few days of her internship, Harry took a trip to the countryside, straight to a Wizarding town by the name of Wulfric-by-the-Sea, hidden away by muggle eyes. He took young Teddy with him, wanting to spend some extra time with his godson.

In the years since Hogwarts, Harry had had time to explore his family's finances and resources. The vault that Harry had been introduced to at the tender age of eleven by Hagrid had been nothing but his educational trust vault. Substantial as it was, it was a drop in the ocean compared to his family's vault.

There were a few properties that the Potter family owned besides the one in Godric's Hollow. The cottage there was a lost cause – broken beyond repair and even if he wanted to rebuild it, it had been turned into a war memorial. He'd given up on it, choosing to let the Ministry handle it.

There were a few other places he'd looked into which his family owned, but the one property that stood out the most was the Potters' ancestral home. It was big and fancy, just this side of ostentatious, but it had space – lots of it – for kids to run around wild and free, a garden with Quidditch hoops that he was obsessed with (he could just imagine having sons and daughters to play around with, teaching them Quidditch, forming teams against Ron and Hermione's brood...Fleur and Bill's brood, too...) and breathtaking views of the countryside surrounding it. There were stables – empty now, but was once filed with winged horses, according to the Potter house elves. He'd loved flying the thestrals and Buckbeak and even the dragon they'd used to break out of Gringotts. He would love to find out how he fared on winged horses.

He'd decided against living at the huge mansion, renamed Marauders' Abbey sometime in the late 1970s by his father (Harry had gotten a good laugh out of that when he'd read it in his family records at Gringotts), when he'd still been with Ginny. They were far too busy with their own lives to spend any real time together and the thought of a family together had been such a faraway idea.

But now...He felt like he couldn't wait for Gabrielle.

He couldn't wait to have her in England, couldn't wait to live with her, to propose, to have her maybe say yes, to see her walk down the aisle towards him...to start a family with her.

The first time he'd visited Marauders' Abbey, he'd been surprised that it hadn't been dusty and dirty and mouldy, with weeds overgrown everywhere. In fact, the garden out front was meticulously well-kept, the house itself didn't have a speck of dust in sight and the garden was mowed neatly. He'd been greeted by a small army of house elves, enthusiastically offering him a feast they could whip up for him in minutes and thrilled at the prospect he'd return to fill up the empty house and turn it into a home.

He'd felt bad about it – no, he wasn't about to move into that gigantic house and boy had they been disappointed. Not wanting to leave them in isolation for even longer, he'd loaned them to the Sirius Black House, letting them know to return every now and then to Marauders' Abbey to tidy up and not let it turn into a horrid mess.

Now...he called them back, asked them to keep Marauders' Abbey in full swing. He wanted to bring Gabrielle by when she came back to London.

'What do you think, mate?' Harry asked Teddy as the young boy ran around the spacious house. 'D'you reckon this is a nice place to live in?'

'Are you mad!?' Teddy looked at him, aghast. 'It's wicked! But...won't you get lonely living here all by yourself?'

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. Although Gabrielle knew about Teddy, and of course they'd met before during Weasley functions that Gabrielle had been invited to courtesy of Bill and Fleur, they hadn't had a chance to really get to know each other. Teddy had always been preoccupied with playing with his younger cousins and Gabrielle had only been to a few Weasley gatherings over the years since she lived so far away.

Andromeda had helped him break the news of his relationship with Gabrielle to Teddy a while ago and he'd certainly seen her for Christmas when Gabrielle had spent it at the Burrow with Harry as his date but too much had been going on at the time. Teddy didn't know how serious it was with him and Gabrielle – that he planned on living together with Gabrielle (who was moving to England to be with him, something he still couldn't quite believe his luck about), that he wanted to marry her and have a family with her.

Teddy had been too young to really care about Harry's break-up with Ginny a few years ago, especially since the two of them had barely been a couple for years before that. Gabrielle would change things and Harry worried Teddy would hate that.

Even so, there was no escaping the truth.

'Well, good thing I won't be living here alone then,' Harry smiled at the curious expression on the boy's face. He looked so much like Remus sometimes. 'Do you remember Gabrielle?'

Teddy's expression cleared. 'Gran said you were dating Gabrielle,' Teddy said. 'Are you going to live here with her?'

Harry hummed in agreement. 'I haven't asked her about moving here yet,' he confessed. 'But if she said yes, would you be alright with it?'

Teddy thought about this for a while, flopping onto a large cushioned ornate armchair. Finally, he decided, 'I think it would be great if you lived here with Gabrielle. You could have horses and I could come over to ride them and play Quidditch out back.'

He stopped for a beat. 'Would I be allowed to come over?'

'As often and as long as you'd like,' Harry promised genuinely.

Teddy beamed at him. 'I think you should marry Gabrielle,' Teddy told him in all the infinite wisdom of a seven year old. 'If that's what makes you happy. You can have babies here and they can grow up to be the best Quidditch team in the world!'

Harry laughed, feeling a weight he didn't even know was there being lifted off of his shoulders. 'One step at a time, mate,' he teased. 'Don't go planning out the rest of our lives just yet.'

Teddy made a face at him before perking up at a sudden thought. 'If I'm going to come over a lot, will I have my own bedroom?'

Harry grinned, clasping Teddy on the shoulder before yanking him up right. 'Why don't you go pick out your favourite room and we'll make plans on how to decorate it,' he suggested.

It was all Teddy needed to dash up the spiral staircase, whooping in delight.

Being back in his auror robes felt just as right to him then as showing up at Camp Phoenix two and a half years ago had felt then. He had been promoted to the rank of Commander, just one step down from Deputy Head Auror, and Robards had shaken his hand vigorously, telling him it was only a matter of time before he was the head of the department.

He was surrounded by mostly new faces – Ron was, of course, no longer an auror and those he'd been in training with or been lucky to call his colleagues had all been distributed throughout the Auror department. He'd even heard that Franklin, one of the clumsiest of their batch, had joined up with the Hitwizards, and hadn't that been a shock. None of his fellow trainees from years ago had jumped up the ladder quite as fast as he had and he was mostly surrounded now by older men – none of them as awe-struck to meet him as the younger crowd, but he could still feel their respect and witness their willingness to listen to him, and it was always a humbling experience.

Harry went to Berlin on Gabrielle's last day there. Her colleagues had a farewell party for each other – she wasn't the only one leaving for a job elsewhere post-internship – and he Side-Alonged her back to her mostly-empty flat where they had drunken sex and collapsed into a tangled heap on her bare bed, no sheets left to warm them. He cast warming charms around them to make sure they didn't freeze to death overnight.

'Are you sad to leave this place?' Harry asked, Gabrielle clinging to him like a limpet in their afterglow.

'Yes,' was her immediate reply. 'Berlin was where we fell in love. I will always miss it here.' She tilted her head up on his chest to look at him with sparkling periwinkle eyes. 'But I am excited to start my life with you in England.'

Grinning, he pressed a kiss to her soft, pillowed lips and let his head fall back with a thump on the flat mattress. Pleasantly buzzed from the booze and sex, Harry drifted off to a deep sleep almost immediately, and woke up the next morning later than he had in a while. Gabrielle had already packed up the remainder of her things, and was waiting for him in the living room, flicking through a fashion magazine and nibbling on a cherry Danish.

'Well, hello there, sleepyhead,' she grinned at his wilder-than-usual hair, flattened on one side and sticking up in a million directions on the other. She jumped off the sofa and sauntered over to him. He was bleary-eyed and his mind hazy with sleep, but his attention was caught by the blue dress shirt she was wearing – his blue dress shirt. 'I got you a coffee and some breakfast from the bakery down the street.'

He wrapped an arm around her slender waist and carded his fingers through her silky hair, pulling her close for a kiss. 'I hope you didn't go out like this,' he said, half-joking.

'What if I did?' she teased.

'Minx,' he shot back, kissing her deeply for a few more minutes before letting her go in favour of coffee. 'I will miss the coffee from Elke's. It's even better than yours.'

Gabrielle slapped at his arm playfully. 'Careful, monsieur, or I won't be helping you scrub clean in the shower later,' she threatened jokingly.

Her first week as an official Londoner went by without any excitement – thanks to magic, they had their new flat unpacked and squared away within minutes of stepping through the threshold. They had the weekend ahead to figure out their new neighbourhood, and by the time she started her new apprenticeship at St. Mungo's on Monday, she was already well aware of which coffeehouse to get the best cuppa and the most delicious cherry Danishes.

She had her first day off on Sunday post-new job and he took her straight to Wulfric-by-the-Sea, keeping the real reason behind their visit a secret. They took a stroll by the beach, and Gabrielle loved it, having always been a fan of the ocean. While he took to air like a bird, she was a mermaid from the fairytales, beautiful and graceful in the water. He couldn't help but think of the lake on the property of Marauders' Abbey – she would love that.

They had an early breakfast at a cosy little cafe in town called The Witches' Brew, and their waitress recommended them the best they had. Harry was still raving about their blueberry scones by the time they left, the waitress laughingly calling out for them to return soon.

'You are too easily impressed,' Gabrielle laughed at him.

'Not true,' Harry insisted, snagging an arm around her waist as they walked down cobblestone paths. 'It took meeting you for me to be impressed.'

'Charmer,' she chided, eyes sparkling a deep blue as she leaned in to kiss him.

The town was beautiful – lively and colourful and so very vibrant. As the sun rose higher in the sky and its residents came out of their sleepy Sunday slumber, Harry and Gabrielle bore witness as they came out of their homes, greeting their neighbours as they passed each other on the way to running errands. Because the town was a fully Wizarding one, it was under a muggle repellent charm, keeping them away and disinterested in the area. Thanks to this, Wizarding children flew toy brooms in their front lawn. Witches and wizards flew their own broomsticks to shops. There was even a winged horse taxi service. Quite a number of Wizarding children had their crups on leashes, though there was a girl outside a wonderfully crooked little house at the end of Billywig Street who was shrieking shrilly as she tried to put a leash on her pet kneazle, shrieking as shrilly as she was.

Unlike the houses at Privet Drive, not one house on any of the streets they came across looked the same. Some were short, some were taller than the Burrow, there was a house so pink and frilly he was worried it belonged to Dolores Umbridge (before he remembered that she was serving a life sentence in Azkaban, thank Merlin) and a house not too inches away from it dark enough that Snape would have felt right at home.

Their little stroll came to a slow stop somewhere near the end of Morgana Lane, where a beautiful estate sprawled in front of their eyes.

Gabrielle took in its sight, wide eyes roving over the expansive lawns through the slates of the gate. Harry knew how he felt – he'd been the same way when he saw the place for the first time. The only other place he'd seen this lavish was Malfoy Manor, and that entire house had seemed so dark and shadowed thanks to Voldemort's presence. Hell, maybe it had always been that way. The Malfoys didn't seem like the kind of family to have a house that didn't seem like it was tainted from the get-go.

'This place looks beautiful,' Gabrielle whispered, wrapping one hand around the steel gates.

Harry flashed her a sly smirk. 'Well, let's have a closer look then,' he said, pushing open the unlocked gate.

Gabrielle gasped, but he heard her walk in after him. 'Harry!' she whispered loudly, panicked. 'We can't just walk into someone's home uninvited.'

Harry threw her a look over his shoulder. 'I'm the Saviour. I can do whatever I'd like,' he joked. 'They'd probably invite us 'round for tea.'

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. 'I sincerely hope you're joking,' she said sarcastically, unable to help taking in the beautiful flowerbeds and water fountains and bird feeders. There were cherry blossom trees planted outside, smelling as pink and pretty as they looked. Despite the fact that it was mid-winter, the trees surrounding the house were beautifully lush. Whoever the residents of the house were must have used magic to nurture the flora around them. She looked ahead and saw that Harry had made it all the way down the cobbled pathway, the stones carefully placed on the ground shimmering like sparkling gems the colours of the rainbow, and was turning the handle on the stained glass double doors leading to the house.

The inside of the house was just as beautiful, light filtering in through the large windows. She didn't know how a place could feel light-hearted and safe, but this gorgeous house somehow felt like all those things to her. There were Wizarding portraits all lined along the foyer wall, and something about some of them seemed familiar to her...The look in their eyes, or the way they smiled...A furrow appeared between her brows as she took in the last portrait on the wall – a man with inky black hair, messy beyond belief, hazel eyes twinkling mischievously behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He was hugging a woman to his front, her red hair and emerald green eyes as vibrant as her smile. As Gabrielle watched, the man in the portrait leaned down to press a kiss to the woman's cheek.

She had seen them before.

'Harry...Your parents,' she whispered, turning around to find Harry. She gasped, taking in the sight before her. Where there was nothing but empty space when they'd entered, there was suddenly a romantic setting of fairy lights and candles and her favourite flowers – and Harry down on one knee.

'Gabrielle–'

'Yes.'

Harry laughed, bowing his head and shaking it. 'For the love of Merlin, woman, let me ask!' he scolded playfully and she laughed along with him, taking one involuntary step back. Her hand went flying to her mouth, tears gathering behind her eyes and slipping down her flushed cheeks as she watched him pull out a ring box from his pocket.

'I've had this since I got back home,' he confessed to her. 'I've thought about asking you to marry me a million times, a million different ways, since we met. But I knew that it wouldn't be right until I was back stateside – for good. You deserve that, Gabrielle. You deserve a life with someone who's there for you, who's there for more than a day or two at a time. I don't know if I'll ever be good enough to deserve you, but I know that I'll work every day of my life to be even the slightest bit worthy of you.'

He reached a hand out for her to take and she did so, stepping forward with shaky steps until their hands met. He gripped her left hand in his right, revealing the ring sitting inside the velvet box for her eyes to see. 'Gabrielle Apolline Delacour...Will you do me the honour of marrying me?'

Gabrielle grinned, pearly white teeth revealed as her lips stretched from cheek to cheek. 'Yes, of course I will,' she replied, her voice soft even though she felt so exhilarated she could've been screaming it from the rooftops.

He beamed at her, so bright it felt as though her eyes should hurt looking at it, but she was mesmerized. She couldn't look away as he pulled the ring from its holder, sliding it onto her finger as the box was tossed carelessly away. He rose up from the floor, hands sliding up to her waist and fingers curling in her hair as he pulled her close for a deep kiss.

Heart hammering away in her chest, Gabrielle found herself wearing a smile to match Harry's as he pulled her into a tight embrace, laughter bubbling out of their chests. She squeezed her eyes tight, an image of their wedding day springing forward in her mind. Another image, of wild-haired, green-eyed babies quickly followed.

She couldn't wait.

Ginny

Things hadn't gone well for her the past couple of years.

After things with Harry had blown up, she and Michael had gotten together for a while. Despite Harry's infamy, the press barely even knew about their break-up. He was never much for exposing any part of his life to the media, and this was no exception. No one in her family had ever violated his privacy that way before and none of them wanted anyone to find out the reason why they'd broken up so none of them had blabbed to friends, let alone the media.

And Ginny had tried, honestly she had, to make things right with Harry. She'd tried to apologize that day when he found her and Michael together. He hadn't said a word – just left, as though she didn't matter enough to him to fight for her. That had hurt because Harry was a warrior. He fought for everything he believed in. She supposed he just hadn't believed in her.

She'd tried tracking him down but her trip to Ron and Hermione's hadn't been very helpful. She'd shown up in tears and beyond the initial shock and concern they'd shown her, once she'd told them in between gasping sobs what had happened, their concern had faded away and morphed into something else entirely. Ron had gone very quiet and, barely even looking at her, he'd kissed Hermione on the cheek and left to find Harry. Ginny had tried to explain things to Hermione after that but she hadn't been very understanding. Ron sent a patronus Hermione's way about an hour later telling her where he and Harry were but it was in code that Ginny couldn't crack. She'd tried following Hermione's trail as she apparated away but Hermione was far too sly for that.

Any attempts to get in touch with Harry after that was futile. He hadn't returned once to their flat. Ron had come in his place to retrieve his belongings – they had a row about it at the Burrow which had led to a lot of hurtful name-calling. It had also led to the entire family learning about what had transpired between her and Harry. Despite them being her family, they'd all sided with Harry. When she'd complained, George had given her a strange look and said, 'He's family too, Ginny.'

She and Michael had continued to see each other in secret for a while before their secret had been exposed. The story broke when one of her teammates had found them together in the Harpies' locker room. She had been a bitch and had gone straight to the press with it. It was front page news for five weeks straight – there had been a murder, an attack on muggles by a confused senile old wizard in Manchester, a fire breaking out in one of the shops at Hogsmeade and an international political scandal but none of them held a candle to the news of Ginny Weasley cheating on The Saviour.

'Thank Merlin Harry's in a war zone and can't read any of this shite,' Ron had grumbled during a Weasley family dinner (Molly insisted that she kept coming despite the fact that she was the main cause of discord in their family at the moment...She'd wanted to object but no one could go against Molly when she was determined).

'Ronald!' Hermione had chided. 'Don't say that! We shouldn't be glad that he's at war!'

'Well I'm not the one who put him there,' Ron had snapped back, throwing a glare Ginny's way.

The public scandal that the affair caused had repercussions that Ginny felt were unfair. Michael's girlfriend broke things off with him (she was fine with that – she wasn't very good at sharing, after all). The Harpies had to have several meetings over it – Ginny and the teammate who had exposed her affair hadn't been working well during practice. Two weeks prior to a match with the Falcons and they were busy beating each other out of the sky. Ginny had been suspended – Demelza had not. There had been a few mediation sessions but Ginny had been ultimately called in for a private meeting with the coach, the owner of the team and the PR agent.

'You're firing me!?' she asked, aghast. 'Over some filth a nancy gossip columnist is writing about me?'

'It's bad for business, Weasley,' the coach, Finley, told her. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the sweat gathering at his brow. 'People don't want to support a team with a player who cheated on a war hero.'

'In case you people forgot – or weren't even aware of in the first place seeing as how you weren't there – I fought in the war too,' Ginny reminded them testily. 'Went wand-to-wand against Death Eaters more than once.'

The PR lady, Anne something-or-the-other, scowled at her, arching one severe brow, 'This isn't a competition to see who's had it worse in life. This is to establish that your extracurricular activities are hurting the team's public support and image.'

Ginny glared at her silently.

The owner, Castle, cleared his throat and stepped forward. 'Whatever the issue is with our image at the moment, there's no denying the fact that you violated team rules,' he said, his tone as stern as it always was. 'No team members are allowed to have guests in the locker rooms.'

She'd argued until her lips turned blue but the three stood firm on their decision. She could take it to court but she'd already been humiliated enough the past few weeks. She had no desire to make it worse by going to the courts and begging to let her force herself back on the team.

She had invited Michael to dinner at the Burrow the same week as the story broke that she was no longer part of the Holyhead Harpies. The team had released a short public statement to inform the masses of the new team line-up and her name hadn't been a part of it. Though they hadn't revealed why, that blasted Rita Skeeter had found out anyway and published it as though it had been one big conspiracy. Once more, the fact that she had cheated on their beloved Saviour had the press painting her as a scarlet letter. Never mind the fact that they'd besmirched Harry's name a million times since he's shown back up in the wizarding world when he was eleven. Now all of a sudden, he was a revered war hero rendered fragile by Ginny's actions.

The dinner, predictably, hadn't gone well. Her father hadn't spoken a word since she stepped through the door holding Michael's hand. Ron had blown another fuse, thanks to his short temper, and Molly had taken Ginny aside to give her the 'what are you doing with your life' talk halfway through tea.

She and Michael hadn't lasted and job scouring had been difficult. She'd found a position as a Chaser with a small minor league team up in Brighton and it had been crappy –terrible teammates who weren't even decent Quidditch players, pay worse than what her father had made back when she was a little girl before Hermione Weasley nee Granger introduced the concept of fair and equal pay to the Ministry of Magic, and a coach who didn't know much about the game at all, so much so that he spent most of their training sessions half asleep on the benches.

Her affair – and whom it had affected – afforded her a notoriety that she couldn't escape. To her horror, her new team owner wanted to use that to her advantage. Since their team was so new, they were virtually unheard of. If Sienna Woodbury could make use of the fact that they had notorious cheater and breaker of the Saviour's heart on the team, she could probably propel them to the major leagues.

With a sinking feeling that she had only been signed on due to all the negative media presence she'd had recently, she'd boldly refused to exploit that and had been rewarded with being demoted to reserve Chaser.

Two years and a few disastrously failed relationships later, she was still a reserve Chaser who'd played a grand total of one and a half games in an entire season and was now the mistress of a married man.

Their affair was not discreet no matter how hard she tried to keep the press in the dark (one public affair was enough for a couple of lifetimes). Rita Skeeter was as insistent as ever and her second affair became public knowledge – and ridicule –despite her efforts. Daniel and his wife had a very ugly, very public separation and despite the fact that they weren't yet divorced, he'd moved out of their big mansion in Wiltshire and had moved in with Ginny while their barristers worked out the ins and outs of their equally ugly, equally public divorce.

Her family hadn't really said anything much about Daniel. To be fair, Ginny hadn't given them the chance. It helped that she didn't live anywhere near any of them – especially her parents. When things had started up with Daniel, she hadn't told any of them. When the press got wind of it, Ginny had avoided all letters. And when Daniel moved in, she'd made a vow not to even visit her family.

Christmas came around and Daniel invited her to spend the holidays with him in Aspen. The divorce was still ongoing so the properties hadn't been divvied up yet. His wife was spending Christmas in New York with her family so Aspen would be free of awkward bumps into the ex. She'd accepted purely because she couldn't handle the thought of being ambushed by the entire Weasley clan at the same time.

When they'd finally returned to England, Ginny came home to their flat to a letter under her mail slot. She knew from the garish decorations on the envelope that it was a Weasley family Christmas card. She had made it a point not to open any letters that her family had sent her these past few months, so she hadn't exactly kept up with family-related news. She changed her mind fourteen times, unsure whether she should open the card or throw it away unopened, as she had with all the letters her family had sent her since she started dating Daniel.

Finally, their dirty laundry in the wash and Daniel in the shower, Ginny took a deep breath, curled up on her sofa in front of the roaring fire place with a cosy blanket and a glass of red elf-made wine and slit open the envelope. The first thing that dropped into her lap was a family photo. She ignored it in favour of taking out the card. It was written in her mother's small handwriting, cramming the latest news about everyone in their family in a one-page postcard with a picture of a snowy Hogsmeade on the front.

Ron and Hermione were due to welcome their first child in May (Merlin, Hermione was pregnant!? Ginny felt a stab of sadness at how isolated she'd grown from them). Charlie had taken up with a bloke from the dragon reserve named Nate (he was covered in tattoos but had been the friendliest, most personable fellow the entire family had ever met; Teddy wanted tattoos now and, much to Molly and Andromeda's horror, had been able to use his metamorphmagus abilities to create tattoos on his skin out of thin air).Victoire was now six years old and getting increasingly irritated with three year old Dominique. Fleur had just announced her third pregnancy. Bill had gotten a promotion. Percy and his long-time girlfriend Audrey were planning on getting married in the summer. Fred II's first birthday party had ended in disaster thanks to the little tyke setting the cake on fire with some accidental magic. Harry and Gabrielle were getting married soon. Molly was sending Ginny's Christmas jumper in a few–

Wait.

WHAT!?

She skimmed back to the last sentence and read it again. And again. And again. The words started to get blurry and she wasn't sure why until a drop of water hit the page and smudged the ink. Ginny dropped the card onto her lap, her hand flying to her cheeks to wipe away at the traitorous tears furiously. She shouldn't be this upset – or at all, really. She'd moved on. What she and Harry had ended years ago. She'd loved Michael and Kyle and Logan and now Daniel since then. She was not upset.

Her throat was closing up and it was getting harder to breathe. She took in a deep breath and ignored how much it sounded like a sob.

Her eyes fell on the Christmas family photo and she picked it up with shaky hands.

Amongst the veritable sea of red that was the Weasley clan, there were the in-laws that have since joined the family. Her eyes, however, zeroed in on Harry and Gabrielle, standing to the right of the group next to Ron and Hermione. Harry was hugging Gabrielle to his front, a wide, face-splitting smile on his lips. Ginny hadn't actually seen Gabrielle Delacour in years – not since Bill's wedding, if she recalled correctly. She was beautiful, of course – young and blonde and practically glowing even in the photo as her arms reached around behind her to pull Harry closer, her fingers reaching up to muss up his already messy head of hair. Ginny watched as Harry laughed and nuzzled Gabrielle's cheek.

Her vision grew blurry again but she quickly blinked away the tears.

She might not have known that Harry was even dating anyone (and honestly, how did he manage to find a woman in the midst of a war, anyway?), let alone Fleur's gorgeous quarter-Veela younger sister. But it didn't matter at all because she didn't care if he was dating anyone. He certainly had never bothered about her after their break-up – he'd disappeared to another country, immersed himself in another war and forgotten all about her as though she were yesterday's news.

She was not bothered at all.

Harry

Harry and Gabrielle announced their engagement to Ron, Hermione, Bill and Fleur first by inviting them over for the first ever dinner they hosted together at their flat in Diagon. Harry had asked for one of the Potter elves to make a celebratory dinner.

'Some champagne for everyone to start the night out,' Harry said, feeling giddy as the glasses floated over to them on a tray.

'Champagne?' Ron took his glass with an anticipatory smile, eyeing Harry and Gabrielle eagerly. 'Are we celebrating something?'

Fleur looked at them suspiciously. 'What are we celebrating?' she asked, thanking Harry as he passed her a glass of alcohol-free cider instead.

'Well...' Harry and Gabrielle grinned as they stood together, hands reaching for the other. 'We've got an announcement to make.'

'We're getting married,' Gabrielle said, the excitement in her voice causing warmth to spread through Harry's entire body.

The six of them celebrated the engagement with dinner at the flat and drinks at a pub in muggle London afterwards. They announced the engagement to the rest of the Weasley family during the usual Saturday family dinner at the Burrow and by the time January came to a close, the two of them had taken out a tiny space in the announcements in the Daily Prophet to announce it to the rest of the Wizarding world. The editor of the paper surprised the happy couple by instead taking out the entire front page of the Prophet with an article headlining their engagement.

Molly insisted on throwing them an engagement party, which was hosted in the garden of the Burrow and attended by pretty much everyone Harry had ever met as well as Gabrielle's family and select circle of friends.

Ginny was nowhere to be seen, which Harry hadn't actually noticed until the end of the night. He felt guilty about it afterwards but the truth was that wedding preparations had given him little to no time to think about much else. Work was busy and when he came back home, he and Gabrielle were pretty much doing nothing else but either planning the wedding or ensuring that everything at Marauders' Abbey was suitable for them for their big move-in.

The first time Harry saw Ginny again in years was during Arthur's birthday dinner a week before Valentine's Day. She looked...older than he remembered. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them despite her makeup and she wore a strained smile the entire night. She'd brought with her Daniel, the not-yet-divorced Quidditch team owner. Arthur, jovial before their arrival, grew very solemn and withdrawn at the sight of the sandy-haired bloke. Harry steered clear of passing any kind of judgment (spoken or silent) – as Ginny's ex, he had no right to do so, especially since they'd grown so completely apart. He had an uncomfortable feeling that Molly wanted him to intervene so he physically put some distance between himself and Ginny as well.

Gabrielle was an angel sent from above. She was not jealous in any way. Any time she felt things were steering into an awkward situation, she would distract him or bring up a new subject to distract the others. Fleur, in particular, seemed very enthusiastic about the wedding planning and brought it up during every awkward silence to fill the void. When things grew just a smidge too tense, he could feel her hand slipping into his, squeezing in comfort.

Because it was Arthur's birthday celebration, dinner was louder than usual. Thanks to how big the Weasley family had gotten, their weekly dinners were held in the garden at a long table permanently put in place there under a beautiful canopy to shield them from nature should it be necessary. After the food was cleared away and only wine and dessert was left littering the table, George cranked up the music on the wireless. A few loud dance-worthy party songs and a warbling tune by Celestina Warbeck to tease Molly with later, a beautiful love ballad came on courtesy of a new rising star. If he recalled correctly, Fay Dunbar was a few years below him back at Hogwarts. Who knew she could sing well enough to make a career out of it?

Harry drew Gabrielle close, seeing Ron and Hermione do the same next to him out of the corner of his eye. Gabrielle still had a large uncontrollable smile on her face, thanks to Harry and Ron's silly dance routine a few moments ago. They'd intended to make Gabrielle and Hermione laugh and had succeeded a little too well.

'Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?' Harry asked, gazing down into those deep eyes that had mesmerized him from the start.

'Not in the last ten minutes,' she teased, a swell of pleasure blooming in her chest at the thought of rendering him awestruck, even now after so long.

He sighed in a long-suffering manner. 'Alright, fine,' he joked. 'I'll stop complimenting you.'

Gabrielle glared at him jokingly. 'Don't you dare,' she chided, her words softly spoken and her voice as seductive as ever. He took the hand she'd curled around his collar and kept it tucked between them over his heart. She slid her other hand up to stroke gently at the nape of his neck. Her lips were pretty pink pillows and she tasted like a heady mix of treacle tart and elderberry wine.

He was, as always, intoxicated.

He was suddenly pulled from his Gabrielle-induced haze by the sound of glass shattering. Looking around, he saw that the tablecloth had been pulled down from one side of the table and it had caused the wine bottle, a few wine glasses and some empty plates to come crashing to the ground. Molly was there next to it, attempting to hold up a clearly intoxicated Ginny with one arm while clearing the mess with her wand with the other. Ron, red necked and stony faced, released his hold on Hermione to rush to his mother's aid.

Harry took Gabrielle's hand in his own and took a few steps to the right where Hermione had frozen still (most of the guests were rooted to the spot, unable to look away from the disaster unfolding before their very eyes). Hermione herself was staring sadly, though she didn't look half as shocked as he expected her to.

'What's going on?' he asked, though it was likely that she didn't know herself. They'd been far enough from the commotion not to have heard anything.

'I forget that this happens at these dinners,' she sighed, shaking her head. 'Ginny's got a bit of a problem holding her liquor at these things.'

'No, she doesn't,' Harry stared, baffled. Across the garden, Ginny let loose a string of loud, angry expletives that had Molly in turn screaming at her to watch her language. A little less sure, Harry asked, 'She does!?'

'A lot of things have changed since the last time you saw her, Harry,' Hermione said. 'She's not the same woman you knew.'

That made him sadder than he thought it would. Things might have ended on bad terms with the Ginny-he-knew but she had been a strong, wonderfully brilliant woman. He might not know much about the Ginny-he-didn't-know, but she seemed nothing like that at all.

The little group made up of Molly, Ginny and Ron grew steadily louder and angrier. No one seemed compelled to intervene. Harry could see George leading an ashen-faced Arthur back into the house for a sit-down, Bill and Angelina with them.

'Should I go over there?' Harry asked quietly.

'I wouldn't recommend it,' Hermione said lightly. 'You'd only anger her more in her current state.'

The decision, however, was taken out of his hands when Ginny, catching sight of Harry, broke away from the group and marched on over in his direction. Harry felt Gabrielle's hand tighten around his and looked over at her to see her giving him a concerned frown. He leaned down and gave her a reassuring peck on the cheek.

'How dare you flaunt her?' was the first thing Ginny said to him in years. The next thing he knew, her hand had connected with his cheek so hard that his head whipped to the side, stinging something fierce.

'Ginny...What the hell!?'

Ginny glared at him. 'You bring this...This harlot here to my house!?'

Harry raised a hand. 'Stop,' he said sternly. 'Whatever you want to say about me, that's fine. But don't ever say a word about Gabrielle.'

Someone a little less drunk would've shrunk away from the withering glare Harry had on his face. Ginny, however, was too far gone to care.

'Oh, of course not,' she spat out sardonically. 'We wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. She's so delicate.'

Gabrielle looked on as the woman that the man she was set to marry used to love ranted and raved, a downright drunken mess. Instead of feeling anger or being insulted, all she could feel was pity. From what she could remember and what she'd been told over the years, Ginny Weasley used to be a fiery, independent woman on the fast track to international fame and success. Now, she was just someone her own family shied away from even mentioning.

Ginny caught the look on Gabrielle's face and her ire grew, burning her skin red hot. 'Are you pitying me?' she snarled, pointing a finger in Gabrielle's face. 'I don't need pity from a dumb blonde Veela!'

'You will stop this immediately!' Fleur growled, stalking towards their little group and standing partially in front of Gabrielle as though to shield her.

'Why? Your precious Gabrielle hasn't had enough yet, has she?' Ginny mocked, gesturing wildly in Gabrielle's direction. 'She knows everything I'm saying is true.'

'Stop it, Ginny,' Ron whispered harshly. He and Molly had rushed on Ginny's heels as she went for Harry and had reached their little impromptu group just as her hand had connected with his cheek. 'You're causing a scene.'

Ginny laughed tersely. 'Well, wouldn't that just be a shame?' she struggled out of Molly's iron grip on her arm. 'Wouldn't want everyone here ashamed of me, right? It's not like you've been shunning me for years. Perfect Harry and his new perfect little blonde bimbo should just come in and replace me. I bet you'd all like that, wouldn't you? Perfect little Gabrielle with her perfect hair and her perfect face and –'

Ginny suddenly slumped over, only managing not to fall in a heap on the ground thanks to Ron's fast reflexes. Ron, Molly, Harry and Gabrielle turned to look at Hermione, who shrugged guiltily, wand in hand.

'Sorry. I just wanted her to stop before she said something she'd regret later,' she winced.

'I think that ship's sailed a long time ago,' Ron muttered, glaring down at the unconscious body of his little sister.

Harry, more than a little peeved by Ginny's words and rattled by her behaviour (he and Gabrielle were apparently the only ones who had never seen that side of her before), shook his head hard as though to shake off the bad memories that he'd just acquired from Ginny's little meltdown. He reached out and took Gabrielle's hand.

'Molly, I'm sorry, but Gabrielle and I have to leave,' he said to the red-headed matriarch who had been like a mother to him for most of his life.

Molly looked gutted. 'Oh! Wait...We've got some leftovers...'

Harry shook his head. 'It's fine. I'm just really tired,' he looked over at Gabrielle, who shot him a sad little smile. 'Are you ready?'

'Of course,' she leaned in to give him a reassuring kiss.

They said a hasty goodbye to Arthur in the kitchen, Gabrielle kissing him on both cheeks and wishing him a happy birthday for the last time that night. He blushed a bright red, which made her giggle, and Harry left the Burrow feeling a little less weighted down.

Gabrielle went through the Floo first. She'd shrugged out of her coat when he stepped through the hearth and was standing next to their drinks' cart. 'I feel like we owe ourselves a nightcap,' she said, pouring out two glasses of Firewhisky.

'Make mine a double,' Harry groaned, flopping down onto their sofa and dropping his head onto the back of the sofa.

Gabrielle handed him his drink and sat next to him. Scooting up until her back was against the armrest, she pulled at his arm until he was snuggled up to her, his back to her front. Her wonderful tiny little hands began working their magic, kneading away at the tense muscles in his back and shoulders.

He moaned in pleasure as the tight knots began to slowly loosen up. 'Thank you,' he said, eyes closing in relief.

'Well, you would do the same for me,' Gabrielle said. 'If I ever suddenly had a drunken ex pop up out of nowhere.'

Harry chuckled. 'If you have a drunken ex pop up in our lives, I'd have him thrown in Azkaban,' he threatened jokingly.

'How'd you know it's a he?' she teased right back.

'You're so hot when you tease about having an ex girlfriend,' he joked.

'You're not such a slouch either when you get all jealous and possessive.'

Turning around and sitting up slightly to face her, Harry looked into her beautiful eyes and couldn't resist putting his hand on her cheek and pulling her in for a deep kiss. 'I don't know how I got so lucky with you,' he confessed. 'How are you so understanding about Ginny? I barely understood it. I'm...fuming. And you...You didn't even say a word to defend yourself back there.'

Gabrielle shrugged. 'I wasn't hurt by her words because they mean nothing to me,' she told him, running her hand gently through his hair and soothing him almost to the point of sleep. 'But if I had been petty and fought with her, it would have only hurt her family more. Her family is your family, Harry. And soon, they will be mine. They're good people. I don't want to hurt them.'

He looked at her with such adoration in his eyes that it made a shiver run down her spine. 'See, now I have to wonder what they did to deserve you, too,' Harry said, only half joking.

Gabrielle laughed. 'Harry...Ginny's hurting,' she said, her smile disappearing as her tone grew more serious. 'I know that everything she's done lately has been hurting her family...but she's hurting. I don't know the reason for it, but I do know that losing you mustn't have helped that.'

Harry blinked. 'She chose that,' he stated, some of his ire returning. Gabrielle's hand through his hair made quick work of his defensive anger. 'She was the one who ended things for us.'

Gabrielle nodded. 'Yes, but perhaps there was a reason behind what she did,' Gabrielle countered. 'Not a good reason, but a reason nonetheless.'

Gabbie's words made him think. He didn't want to be the kind of person who could ignore the fact that someone he once loved was hurting. Of course, he didn't know if she really was hurting, either. His thoughts made little sense and his heart was even more confused about what he should do. In times of such crisis, he went to the one person he'd always relied on for sensible advice since he was eleven years old.

'Well, of course she's hurting, Harry,' Hermione rolled her eyes, not even looking up from the stack of paperwork she's working through. 'Nothing else would make a woman like Ginny spiral downwards like this.'

'What is she hurting over?' Harry asked tentatively.

Hermione did look up at that, arching an eyebrow and looking at him pityingly. 'Oh, Harry,' she sighed, shaking her head.

'What, you think this is my fault?' he asked incredulous. 'You think that I have enough influence to make her a drunken arsehole?'

'No one thinks that at all, Harry,' Hermione reassured him. 'But your break-up – and the reason behind it – was the first mistake Ginny's made that led her to making nothing but mistakes the last few years. You may have put it – and her – behind you, but I think that she needs some closure from you before she can do the same.'

'So you think I owe her a talk about what went wrong? Here's what went wrong – she cheated on me!' Harry almost shouted. A clerk walking past Hermione's office stopped and peered inside. Hermione, frowning, lifted her wand and gave it a flick, shutting the door and putting a Muffliato spell up just in case.

'Yes, she did,' she agreed. 'Why?'

Harry looked at her blankly. 'Why?' he asked. 'How in the bloody hell would I know why!? We were happy! I thought we were happy...And then, one day, I looked up and she was being happy with someone else...'

Hermione reached across the desk to pat him on the hand. 'It sounds like you need some closure, too, Harry,' she told him.

'No. No, I might still be a tad angry with Ginny but I have moved on,' he genuinely insisted.

'I know you have, and I'm very glad for you,' Hermione replied, as honest as he was. 'You don't need closure because you still have feelings for Ginny. You need closure because you never found out why. No matter how happy Gabrielle makes you, you're always going to be wondering when the other shoe's going to drop. Maybe it's something you did that drove Ginny into Michael's arms. Maybe it's something else.'

Harry lowered his head, unable to admit that she was right. He felt awful about it, of course, because Gabrielle was the most honest, virtuous woman he had ever met. He knew that she would never cheat on him. She'd never betray him like that. He knew that with every fibre of his being.

Except that he had a recurring nightmare that she did betray him.

He'd survived Ginny. He wouldn't survive losing Gabrielle.

Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe he needed to know why. And maybe...He and Ginny did deserve some closure. He was about to embark on his biggest, most exciting adventure yet – being Gabrielle's husband. He didn't want to start on it harbouring even the slightest bit of anger or resentment towards his ex for a breakup he was actually thankful for at this point.

It was easy to get Ginny's address (Hermione gave it to him with the express promise not to mention it to anyone, except for Ron of course). Showing up at Ginny's front door was easy as well. Actually lifting his hand and knocking was harder. He paced outside her door for almost an hour before he actually got the courage to knock. When she answered, looking just a tad hung-over, he almost lost his nerve again.

'What the hell do you want?' Ginny asked grouchily, squinting bleary eyes at him. 'Come to defend your sweet, precious Gabrielle?'

'I came to talk,' Harry replied, trying hard not to let her words get to him. 'Is it alright if I come in?'

Ginny stared at him for a long time. Eventually, she tilted her head to the side in concession, moving aside to let him in. Her flat was nice – warm and cosy. He saw no pictures of her family or even her new boyfriend – the not-yet-divorced-Quidditch-team-owner.

They took a seat on opposing sides of the dining table. An awkward silence fell between them. Finally, Ginny flicked her wand in the direction of the coffee pot and had two cups of freshly brewed coffee float over to them. 'For someone who wanted to talk, you're not saying much,' Ginny muttered into her cup.

Harry sighed, nodding. 'I know,' he agreed ruefully. 'I...I wanted to see if you were okay.'

'What if I wasn't? Are you going to come in and save the day?' Ginny asked sarcastically.

Harry gave her a look, which made her quell down her general irritation that he was in her flat at all for a bit.

'It's just...I was talking to Gabrielle and Hermione...About why we broke up...'

Ginny looked up at him through narrowed eyes. 'How nice that you can talk to practically everyone about our break-up but me,' she quipped. 'With me...You just disappeared. Managed to hide yourself in London...Ran away to another country to fight in another war.'

'Ginny...'

'But it's just so bloody wonderful that you managed to fall in love in the middle of a war with someone you can talk to about how glad you are that you avoided this disaster of a relationship,' she continued, angrily picking apart an old half-eaten bagel strewn on the table in front of her.

'That's not what it is,' Harry interjected.

'And thanks for not even trying to fight for me,' she said, sounding just a tad bitter. 'It was really great that you could just give up without even saying a word, let alone going after me.'

'Fight for you!?' Harry stared at her, incredulous. 'Ginny, all I ever wanted for you was to be happy. When I walked in on you and Michael...I was devastated. But I thought he made you happy. So...I left so that you could be.'

'That's hippogriff dung,' Ginny snapped. 'You ran away so you didn't have to confront the fact that you wasted years with me, someone you never even cared for enough to fight for to be in your life.'

To his horror, he saw her eyes shining slightly before she turned her head away. 'Look...The reason I disappeared after we broke up, why I didn't let you know where I was...I was scared that you wouldn't even try to find me,' he confessed. At her surprised look, he added, 'Ginny...I loved you. I think I always will, in some way. You were the first girl I ever loved like that...I just...I don't understand why we fell apart.'

Ginny took in a deep, shuddering breath. 'You were never there,' she said quietly. 'I understood at first. You're a hero – it's what you do. It's who you are. But after a while, it just seems like you'd rather be doing anything other than be with me.'

'That's not true,' he argued.

'Ron and Hermione, your work with the aurors, Ministry functions...Teddy...'

'Teddy's my godson,' Harry glared, defensive. 'I'm going to spend time with him. I'm going to be there for him, any time at all.'

'I know,' Ginny said quickly. 'I didn't resent that. I didn't resent any of it. But I resented the fact that I was never important enough for you to spend time with.'

Harry shook his head, standing up and walking away to look out the window. 'You know...that day I...The day we ended,' he said, sensing her walking up to stand next to him. 'I was going to ask you to marry me.'

She took a moment to let that sink in, her heart racing at the thought that if things hadn't been screwed up, she could be Ginny Potter at that very moment.

'And what did you plan?' she asked. He looked over in surprise. 'How were you going to propose to me, Harry?'

He blushed, looking away. She nodded, as though that was all the affirmation she needed.

'You didn't plan anything, did you?' she asked, already knowing the answer. 'What, were you going to ask me while we ate stale Chinese food?'

'No,' Harry answered, unconvincingly.

'And how did you propose to Gabrielle?' Ginny asked, having had already heard how when Fleur was loudly bragging about the special moment at her father's birthday dinner. Harry and Gabrielle hadn't even heard the bragging, having been off dancing to some slow song and being nauseatingly sweet with each other. 'You had a whole romantic thing planned, right?'

Swallowing hard in a futile attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat, Harry nodded, 'Yes, I did.'

Ginny smiled slightly, shaking her head. 'I'm glad you found someone important enough to spend time with,' she told him, surprising herself with how genuinely she meant that.

He frowned. 'I know you don't believe me, but you were important to me,' he insisted.

'Just not enough,' she conceded. 'And that's okay, Harry. It really is. I've moved on. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I have.'

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. 'But...What about everything that's been happening?' he wondered. 'The...The drinking and the inappropriate boyfriends?'

Ginny laughed. 'Wow, someone's got a big ego,' she rolled her eyes. 'That's got nothing to do with you, Harry.'

'But...'

'Look, I'm not proud of how we ended,' she admitted in a hushed tone. 'And maybe I've been running from the reality of how screwed up my life is. And I just kept making bad decisions like it's a never ending cycle. But that has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.'

Harry hesitated, unsure whether to believe her or not. 'So... What now?'

'Now?' Ginny took in a deep breath. 'Now you marry the woman of your dreams and I will...change what I hate about my life. I know mum seems to think that's your responsibility, Harry, but it's mine.'

Harry and Gabrielle spent Valentine's Day in Paris, snuggled up together at a penthouse suite that the Potters owned after having a romantic candlelit dinner at one of Gabrielle's favourite restaurants in the city.

'Molly is going crazy with the wedding planning,' Gabrielle told him. 'Maman seems like she might strangle her if she disagrees with one more of her ideas.'

Harry frowned, running his hand up and down Gabrielle's smooth back, almost obsessed with the silky-soft texture of her skin. 'Should I say something?' he asked.

She chuckled, low and warm. 'Only if you want to be killed in the crossfire,' she reached up to kiss the hollow of his throat. 'Don't worry. I'll handle them.'

'You won't be killed in the crossfire?'

'I'm the bride, I can do what I like,' Gabrielle joked.

Despite Gabrielle's efforts to keep him out of the crosshairs, he did get pulled into the middle of several arguments between Molly and Apolline. Gabrielle was his saving angel, and a mastermind at turning the two women into an emotional mess of hugging in-laws.

The next few months flew by.

A few weeks after his talk with Ginny, he read in the paper that she had quit her career as a Quidditch player and had joined the Prophet as their new junior sports reporter. The bigger news in the paper that day was Ginny's breakup with the not-yet-divorced Quidditch team owner, Daniel. Apparently, she had called it quits and kicked him out of her flat.

Harry and Gabrielle finally moved into Marauders' Abbey. Even though he was excited to fill the place with kids and start their new family, Gabrielle had made him promise that they'd spend one childless year as newlyweds. For his birthday, she got him a puppy. They picked him out together at the pound. The moment Harry laid eyes on him, he knew he had to adopt the little monster. He was a miniature version of Padfoot, complete with the mischievous look he got right before he destroyed a piece of furniture. Harry named him Snuffles.

Ron and Hermione welcomed their baby girl, named Rose Harriett Granger-Weasley. She was tiny and beautiful, with freckles scattered over her nose and tufts of wispy red hair on her head. She smelled like New Baby and Harry, her newly minted godfather, was always the first to scoop her up in his arms whenever he saw her and he always had difficulty handing her over to someone else, even to her own parents.

The good news was, they were so tired and burned out from having a newborn at home that they were usually pretty happy to have him hold her for as long as possible.

'You are going to be an amazing father,' Gabrielle whispered to him, cuddled up with him and baby Rose on the couch at the Burrow. He had just rocked her to sleep and Hermione had offered to take her off his hands but he wasn't quite ready to relinquish his hold on her just yet.

'Yeah?' he grinned at Gabrielle, heart thumping hard against his chest. She nodded, leaning in to kiss him. 'Good. 'cuz I can't wait.'

She chuckled. 'Neither can I,' she agreed, leaning down to kiss baby Rose on the head and take in her New Baby smell.

Before Harry realized it, they were a week away from his wedding day.

The morning after his stag do (Gabrielle had taken Hermione's suggestion to have the stag do and hen night a week before the wedding instead of the night before and Harry had gone along with it, remembering how sick Neville had been on his wedding morning thanks to the amount of alcohol he'd ingested the night before), Harry threw back a hangover potion and met up with Ron and Hermione for brunch. They sat down together at a muggle restaurant that the three of them often met up at for brunch – it was one of Ron's favourite muggle things, even more so than going to the cinema.

'One week away and you're no longer a free man,' Ron teased. 'Are you nervous?'

Harry grinned and shook his head. 'Not a chance, mate,' he said, taking a few huge gulps of his orange juice. 'I can't wait.'

Ron shared one of those schmoopy-married-people-looks with Hermione. Harry couldn't wait to share looks like that with Gabrielle.

'Yeah,' Ron sighed, looking lovingly at his plate of bacon and eggs. 'I remember how excited I was when Hermione and I were going to get married.'

'Gabrielle must be a bundle of nerves,' Hermione said, sipping on her mimosa. 'At least Molly and Apolline have stopped trying to strangle each other.'

'Well, the wedding is entirely planned by now,' Harry shrugged. 'What else is there to fight about?'

Ron and Hermione chuckled at some unknown secret he wasn't aware of. 'Oh, Harry,' Hermione shook her head fondly. 'Let me tell you something – everything can go wrong from now until the very moment you actually get married.'

'And everything will go wrong,' Ron added in his infinite wisdom.

'At our wedding, the flowers didn't get delivered until we were halfway through with the ceremony,' Hermione ticked off on her fingers. 'Ron's aunt Muriel decided to invite half her book club without informing us so we had no seats and no food for them.'

'They kept screaming for chicken and cake,' Ron remembered with a shudder.

'My grandfather thought he was having a heart attack before the ceremony even started. The caterer had a fight with Molly when she decided she knew better than them,' Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron, mouth stuffed with bacon, looked up at that. 'Well, to be fair, she does make a mean dinner,' he said defensively. He got an entirely non-schmoopy look from Hermione for that.

'Harry, the wedding cake was destroyed and had to be re-done a day before the wedding,' she said, eyes wide at the horror of it all even now. 'A day!'

Harry frowned. 'Why don't I remember any of this?' he wondered. Honestly, the only two things he remembered about the wedding were the stag do and the actual ceremony itself.

Ron shrugged. 'Well, you were a bit preoccupied, mate,' he slapped Harry on the back consolingly.

Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments before his expression cleared. 'Ginny,' he said in understanding.

'Ginny,' Ron agreed.

'Wow,' Harry shook his head. 'I had honestly forgotten about it. It took me a moment to remember what was happening at that time...Has it been so long?'

'You did go to war after that,' Hermione patted his hand. 'And you've fallen in love with someone else. It does erase the sting of heartbreak.'

Harry grinned at her. 'You were right, you know,' he told her. 'I did talk to Ginny. And I needed that closure.'

Hermione smiled, reaching across to his seat to kiss him on the cheek. 'I'm glad. You do look lighter these past few months,' she observed.

'Thank you,' he smiled. 'And...I'm sorry I wasn't a better best man, Ron. I should've noticed all these things that went wrong. I should've been there.'

'You were the best best man,' Ron assured him. 'I completely understand how things were for you.'

'Yes, and the strange thing is...' another schmoopy-look was shared as Ron and Hermione reached for each other's hand. 'Once we finally said 'I do', everything sorted itself out.'

Harry looked dubiously at Hermione. 'Really?'

She nodded. 'Really. So whatever it is that will go wrong in the next week, just get through it,' she advised him. 'You'll forget it all once Gabrielle's officially your wife.'

That put an unstoppable grin on his face that Ron dubbed 'creepy'.

Just as the happy new parents had predicted, quite a number of things did go wrong in the week leading up to the wedding. Harry barely had time to process one thing that went wrong before the next one happened.

Gabrielle's parents arrived for the wedding two days before it was set to happen. They stayed with Harry and Gabrielle at Marauders' Abbey and other than the awkward goodbyes at night when Harry and Gabrielle disappeared into the same room (he remembered vividly their stance on unmarried couples staying in the same room), they were a joy to have around.

The night before their wedding, Harry set off to Ron and Hermione's house. He kissed Gabrielle goodnight and promised to see her the next day at the aisle.

'I'll be the one in white,' she grinned, her eyes wide and sparkling in happiness. His heart clenched at the sight of her so happy – Merlin, she was beautiful and all his.

'I'll be the one dressed as a penguin,' he promised.

Ron made him more nervous by spouting off even more anecdotes of the things that had gone wrong at his wedding to take Harry's mind off of the things that were going wrong for his. Hermione just tried to be rational about the whole thing. For some reason, their weird combination wasn't comforting him as it usually did.

Holding little Rose close did help for a little bit but eventually she had to go into her crib and there was nothing to keep him from his insomnia.

Finally, the big day arrived.

The wedding was held in the expansive garden at Marauders' Abbey. Harry was actually surprised at how beautiful everything looked. He had been there only the night before but somehow everything looked different and better. The patio was covered in gold and silver tinsel. The sun was shining brighter than it had all summer, and a flowing white canopy shielded the wedding guests from its rays. There was a flower arch at the end of a long aisle, with a platform in front of it where Harry and Gabrielle will stand. The flower bushes were covered in fairy lights. There were floating bouquets with fairies hiding in the bouquets. The garden was blooming with colourful flowers and the seats were arranged to accentuate them. The flowers gave a sweet floral scent to the air.

Ron, George, Neville, Dean and Seamus were acting as Harry's groomsmen, with Ron as his obvious best man. Hermione, in a blatant disregard of gender roles, had been named as Harry's co-best man.

Harry hadn't seen Gabrielle all day.

Even though he didn't truly believe that it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the wedding day, he didn't want to leave things to chance. He'd dutifully stayed at Ron and Hermione's house until mid-afternoon, indulging baby Rose and a teary-eyed Hermione who seemed as emotional on his wedding day as she had been on hers.

'Just thinking about how terrible things were for you then,' she hugged for the hundredth time that morning. 'And how happy you are now...No one deserves it more than you.'

Harry peered at Ron, bewildered, through the strands of Hermione's bushy hair.

'Hermione, you've known him since he was eleven and you're still scaring him,' Ron said, gently pulling her away. 'Sorry, mate. Rose hasn't gotten any sleep in the past three weeks. Which means that we haven't gotten any sleep in the past three weeks.'

Ron shared a commiserating look with Harry when Hermione suddenly burst into exhausted tears and fell into her husband's arms. 'It's been hell,' he admitted roughly.

Watching the two of them, all burnt out and exhausted to the point of restlessness, looking as haggard as they had during their horcrux hunt a million years ago, Harry couldn't wait for his own exhausted breakdowns with Gabrielle.

Merlin, I'm an odd one, Harry shook himself out of it with a rueful smile.

Harry had sent over a gift for Gabrielle in the morning – a diamond-crusted tiara he'd found in his family vault at Gringotts. From the pictures he'd uncovered, he knew that it had been a gift from his father to his mother and she'd worn it on their wedding day. It was a Potter family heirloom he knew belonged with Gabrielle for their wedding day.

Molly had sent over a huge selection of foods ('An in-house brunch!' Ron had whispered in an awed voice that had given Hermione cause to roll her eyes quite aggressively) and had advised him to eat up – despite the wonderful spread on the menu, he'd seen how Ron and Hermione had barely been able to eat at their wedding reception. Too many relatives and friends kept coming up to them to congratulate them and ask inappropriately intimate questions. He'd ended up running interference while the newlywed couple grabbed a few small bites to eat halfway through the reception.

Now here he was, in the home where he and Gabrielle would raise their children and welcome their grandchildren and great grandchildren...where they would grow old together. The house was teeming with guests. The garden looked impeccable. Luna was taking her place at the front of the aisle where she would be officiating the wedding. Harry stood, nerves as big as erumpents, waiting for his future to walk down the aisle to him. His hands had gone through his hair a few million times in the last hour, undoing Hermione's work at making it seem even the slightest bit more manageable.

Finally, the wedding march was played. The old Hogwarts orchestra, made up primarily of the same students who had been in it during his school career, had clamoured to be the one to play the music the future Mrs Harry Potter would make her appearance to.

Heart in his throat, Harry watched, mesmerized, as Gabrielle seemed to float down the aisle towards him. Her gown was made of some silky sparkling material, glittering like diamonds when the light caught on it. It trailed behind her in a flowing train held up by some of her cute little French cousins, their blonde hair plaited and their flower girl dresses a pretty white and pink colour. The girls giggled as they followed Gabrielle down the aisle, enchanted at having everyone's attention. Snuffles the puppy followed close by, dressed in a tux and carrying a pillow by the rope attached to it – as ring bearer goes, he was the cutest one yet.

Gabrielle carried a striking bouquet, with flowers that were white, purple and a deep blue to match her eyes. She had on a veil though it was pulled back over her hair instead of thrown in front to cover her face. He was pleased to see that she wore the tiara, the diamonds in it glinting every time she moved.

Her eyes were locked on his, just as he was unable to look away from her. They were having a traditional wizarding handfasting as it was important for Gabrielle's parents and not such a big issue for him. He hadn't known the first thing about it – the few weddings he'd been to (Bill and Fleur's, Dean and Seamus', Neville and Hannah's and Ron and Hermione's) had all been terribly modern. He'd had to attend lessons about what to do, how to act and what to say. But standing there with Gabrielle, their hands locked together as Luna summoned a rope to bind them together for eternity, he couldn't say if he'd done anything correctly at all. Everything around him became white noise and the only thing he could focus on was his very soon to be wife.

Finally, Luna proclaimed, 'With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.'

Harry had kissed Gabrielle a million times and more by then, but their first kiss together as husband and wife tasted like the bright side rays of a hopeful tomorrow. Harry felt her smile against his lips and allowed himself to really sink into their future together.

All was well.