She stopped in front of a door, one that Harry had always assumed was Vernon's office. He had never been allowed in there, and neither had Dudley. Taking an old key from her pocket and put it into the lock. The lock gave with a muffled click, and the door swung open. What they saw took their breath away.

It was a completed nursery. The walls were a pale blue; a small red brick fireplace lined one wall. The room was filled with baby furniture; a crib stood in one corner, a rocking chair in another. A bookcase filled with baby books stood in a corner, dusty with age. Stuffed animals filled a wooden box, and a carousel music box stood on a large dresser.

"What is this?" Harry asked in a watery voice.

"This was supposed to be your room," she said, sitting in the rocking chair. "I had it made for you before you came to us, just in case. I was so excited at the prospect of having two little boys to spoil that I went slightly overboard. Dudley's nursery was almost exactly like this. I figured that if my sister survived, which I hoped would be the case, I could always use it if I had a second child. If that didn't happen, it was always here for you as a guest room. Believe it or not, you visited this house quite a lot in the first months of your life."

"If this was here, why was I in the cupboard?" Harry asked in a strangled voice.

"Vernon didn't approve; accused me of liking you more than Dudley," she said, making the chair rock. "It wasn't true, of course, but I was very fond of you. But no matter how hard I argued, Vernon always had the upper hand, literally. He's the one who made the decision for you to sleep in that awful cupboard." Harry started to cry again. The room was beautiful; he had never known that his aunt cared so much.

"It killed me every Christmas and birthday that I couldn't get anything for you," she said. "I tried one year for Christmas, but Vernon refused, saying it would make you soft, and gave them to Dudley instead."

"Why has it been locked up all these years? Why didn't you get rid of all the stuff when I got to be too big for it?"

"Before you outgrew it, I had planned to use it for another child, but by the time you outgrew it, Vernon had already decided Dudley was enough. I don't know why. I just couldn't bear to see it torn apart, I guess," she shrugged. She picked up one of the blankets that hung over the edge of the crib. It was green, hand-knit and soft. She handed it to Harry.

"I knit that for you before you were born. I was crazy about knitting when I was pregnant. Of course, Lily and I were pregnant at the same time. We decided that we'd each make a gift for our nephews. She made Dudley a beautiful quilt, and I knit you this," she said. "Actually, I knit all of the receiving blankets in this room. I told you, I was crazy about knitting. By the time Dudley was born, I swear I made enough blankets to keep you and him warm in Siberia." She picked up a teddy bear.

"I remember the day you came," she said, looking at the stuffed toy. "I had just gotten up to get the paper when I found you on the front stoop. I paused, and knew that Lily and James were dead. I was numb for a few days after that. You, though, were as happy as ever (you were always such a happy baby). Vernon was disgusted, and believed my sister intentionally got killed just to saddle us with more to worry about. The only thing I remember after I brought you inside was the happiness I felt that your favorite stuffed animal had been the one I had gotten for you."

"You bought Puddles?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I don't know what you named him, but yes, I did. I though it was such a cute little dog in the store. I was shopping for Dudley when I saw it. It was about a week before you were born. If you notice, Dudley has an elephant similar to that dog. I bought one for each of you. I had so hoped you two would be friends, like Lily and I had been. But Vernon's influence reached him before mine did, and hence the spoiled brat you see today." She smiled ruefully. "Believe me, if it had been only me parenting Dudley, he wouldn't be so spoiled or so fat. That was Vernon's doing."

"Why do you stay with him?" Harry asked suddenly. He had developed a new affection for his aunt. "If he treats you so badly, why do you stay with him?"

"Because I can't leave," she sighed and looked out the window. "I've lived with Vernon for almost my entire adult life, and I have no job, nor skills to get a job. Vernon is very old-fashioned; he felt that I should be a stay-at-home mum. I have no living relatives or friends who would put me up."

"But he abuses you," Harry said, much to Hermione's surprise.

"How do you know about that?" Petunia asked in a low voice. Not angry, just surprised that her nephew could be so intuitive.

"Because no one gets black and blue from cooking and cleaning," he said simply. Petunia nodded.

"You always were more perceptive than Dudley," she said. "Dud's turned out just like him, you know. His latest girlfriend came home with him one night. He insulted her right in front of her, and I noticed a few bruises along her arms. I never raised him to be violent towards women, and so it surprised me. Vernon, of course, crowed with laughter at the degradation. I'm so glad you didn't turn out that way."

"Come stay with us," Hermione said. She too, had a new found affection for this woman, who had cared so much for Harry, but had never been able to show it. Petunia looked at her.

"You must be Hermione," she said, smiling. Harry looked taken aback. Petunia gave him a small smile. "I may not have paid much attention, Harry, but I'm not oblivious. You had her picture on your bureau for years. I'm glad you finally realized that you love her. I've known it for years." Harry flushed a shade of red, embarrassed.

"From the way he used to talk about you to Hedwig, you make him very happy. I thank you for that," she said. "No one in this house could have, and so I'm glad someone does." Hermione flushed as well.

"You should really come stay with us," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "Harry talks about his childhood with nothing but contempt. But to live with it by marriage is just wrong. Marriage should be about love, not control."

"Well put," Petunia said, putting the bear back in the toy box. "Maybe I will. I would have to think about it, and orchestrate an escape. But I thank you for the offer."

"You're welcome anytime," Harry said, still looking with awe at his aunt. "We're staying at my parent's house."

"I thought your parent's house was destroyed,"

"So did I," They laughed a little, glad to ease up on the tension.

"All of this is yours, you know," Petunia said, gesturing around the room. "While I'm sure you don't want the room itself, everything in here is rightfully yours. I had hoped, when you got older, you would use it for your own children some day."

"I would love to, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "But not until a few years from now, okay?"

"Deal," Petunia said, chuckling. She stood and brushed off some of the dust that had settled on her apron. She walked over to Harry and wrapped her thin arms around him. Harry was surprised. It was the first hug he had received from a member of his family since he was an infant. He wrapped his arms around his aunt and hugged her tight, tears streaming from his eyes.

"I love you, Harry," Petunia said, letting go of him. "And I'm sorry I haven't shown it these past sixteen years."

"It's okay, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. "I love you, too." Harry heard a small sniffle, and turned to find Hermione in tears too, looking at the two of them.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked her.

"It's just so happy!" she cried. "I've never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life!" She took a hankercheif from her pocket and blew her nose. "I'm sorry. I just get so emotional sometimes." Petunia laughed and gave Hermione a hug as well.

"I'm happy for you two," she said. "Though I am concerned…."

"Here we go again!" Harry smiled.

"Well, you are only seventeen," Petunia said, though she was smiling. "And I still don't know if you realize what you're getting yourselves into, but seeing you together reminds me of your parents, Harry. They were so in love when they married that you could feel it radiating from them. It was a fairy tale ending to a long and arduous teenagehood. I swear, if I had to hear one more time about that 'annoying Potter boy', I was going to go insane. I was so relieved when they got married that I nearly cried." Harry laughed.

"We know some people who feel the same way," Hermione said. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly five, and they were due at her parent's by six. "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Dursley—"

"Call me Petunia,"

"Petunia, but we have to get going. Harry has to go get maimed by my father,"

"You're going to tell them you're engaged, aren't you?" Hermione nodded, and Petunia gave Harry a hearty slap on the back.

"Good luck, Harry," she said. "I remember when James told my parents he and your mother were getting married. I never knew that boy could run so fast." She added as an afterthought. Harry paled.

"I'm joking," she said, giving him another hug, which Harry gladly returned. "Good luck anyways."

"Well, consider yourself the first person to be invited to the wedding," Harry said, as they made their way to the front door. "I'm really glad we had that talk, Aunt Petunia."

"I am too, Harry," she said, waving to them as they walked down the front walk.

"Well, that was an enlightening experience," Harry said, wiping a tear from his eye, the album tucked under his arm. "I never knew…."

"I know, Harry," Hermione said, giving his free hand a squeeze. "But aren't you glad she told you?"

"Of course I am," he said. "I just can't believe I never noticed before."

"You were a little young to be noticing complex feelings of adults," she said, and Harry nodded.

"I feel better about my childhood now," he said, looking at the album. "I know that's it's not that no one cared, just that my uncle is a tyrannical bastard."

"Here we are," Hermione said, as they stopped in front of her house. It was an old Victorian, painted a pretty yellow color. "And my father will not kill you, so just calm down!" Harry had started to bite his thumbnail. She rang the doorbell. Her mother answered.

"Hermione! Thank God you're okay!" Hermione's mother immediately pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "We heard about the battle, and the Mudblood Act. We so hoped you were alright. You would not believe how relieved we were to hear from you yesterday. Come in! Come in!" She ushered the two inside and shut the door.

"David!" she called up the stairs. "Harry and Hermione are here!"

"Are they now?" came a deep voice from upstairs. "Well, it's about time! I'm starving!" A hearty laugh was heard, and then David Granger descended the stairs. He was a jovial looking fellow, with graying brown hair and blue eyes. He was attempting to do his tie at that moment, and becoming frustrated with it. Finally, he gave up and took it off.

"Confounded thing," he laughed, putting it on the stairpost and enveloping his daughter into a hug. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hello, Dad," she said, returning his hug.

"See Helen?" David said as he let go of Hermione. "I told you she was okay! Your mother didn't believe me, of course, thought you had been killed, or taken off to be tortured. But I said, 'Our Hermione's too clever for that. She'll turn up before the end of the month, mark my words.', and here you are! Harry, my boy! Good to see you!" He clasped Harry's hand in a tight handshake.

"Well, shall we eat?" Helen asked, smiling.

"We shall!" David said, patting his stomach. "Your mother's been cooking all day. I can't wait to see what she's been doing in there all this time!" Helen playfully swatted her husband on the shoulder.

The dining room was beautiful; a room filled with cherry wood, and painted an attractive shade of green. Flowers in vases adorned a few small tables that lined the walls, making the room feel warm and cozy. They sat, and tucked into a marvelous dinner prepared by Mrs. Granger, who was a wonderful cook.

"So, how are things?" Hermione asked, chewing thoughtfully on a bit of chicken.

"Things are good. Your father's finally relented to retire next year, something that's been coming for some time," Helen said, and Hermione nodded. "How are things with you? How's being back feel?"

"Being back feels good. Much better than in the company of those Death Eaters," Hermione said. She failed to mention the whip marks on her back; her father would be even angrier with Malfoy than Harry had been, and she felt that a hunt for a powerful wizard was not something she wanted to do that night. "And things are good. Very good, in fact," she added, looking pointedly at Harry.

"Yes," Harry squeaked. "Very good." Helen looked at them strangely.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" she asked, looking directly at her daughter.

"Actually, yes," Hermione sighed. "Since Harry, at the moment, is fearing for his life, I'll announce the news. Mum, dad, Harry and I are engaged." There was a moment of silence as the news sunk it. And then, it came.

"Congratulations, dear!" squealed her mother as she gave Hermione a large hug. Mr. Granger said nothing, but poked at his dinner. Harry felt the room rise a few degrees, and he tugged at his collar. He hadn't been this nervous since actually popping the question, and he preferred to live until the wedding, if Mr. Granger didn't mind.

"Harry, may I have a word with you?" David said, pushing back his chair. Harry nodded and followed him out. David opened the back door and motioned for Harry to go outside with him. Harry did so, and rocked back and forth on his feet nervously as David glanced into the fading horizon.

"Harry, do you love my daughter?" he asked at last. Harry was taken aback. How could he think that? Of course he did.

"Yes, sir,"

"How much?"

"Pardon?"

"How much do you love her?" Harry was silent for a moment, thinking of how to put it into words.

"I love her more than words can say. I wouldn't have anyone else as my wife. She completes me. I would die, and almost have, for her," he concluded, thinking that it was the best he could do; there really no words to describe how she made him feel. David nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"That is exactly what I wanted to hear," he said. "Congratulations, son." He gave Harry a hug, and then wiped a tear from his eye.

"I can't believe she grew up so fast," he said. "It seems like just yesterday I was teaching her to tie her shoes, and now she's engaged. I feel old, Harry." He turned, wiping away another tear, and went back inside. Harry stood, slightly bewildered, on the back porch, for a few moments, before going back inside.

"This has been an interesting day," remarked Hermione, when they were home and in bed.

"Yes, it has," Harry agreed, before falling into a deep sleep.

The next few months Harry could barely remember. It was all a blur of wedding plans and Death Eater hunting. The matrimonial tornado that was the team of Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, and Aunt Petunia (much to everyone's surprise), went right to work, constructing a beautiful wedding, complete with home-made wedding cake and wizarding wedding traditions. The day had been set for the twenty-seventh of August, perfect weather for the wedding they had planned. As for the Death Eater hunting, every lead led to a dead end. The only thing Harry could hope for was that Voldemort wouldn't interrupt his wedding.

The day of the wedding finally arrived, and Harry was a wreck. Nothing seemed to go right; he couldn't find a clean shirt, any socks, or even his toothbrush. In wizarding tradition, Hermione was safely at her parents, not to be seen until that walk down the aisle, and so there was almost no hope for him. Harry pouted (very immature, but at the moment, pouting was appropriate). He was going to be late for his own wedding, if he wasn't careful. Just his luck.

"Hey mate!" came the call from the front door. Ron poked his head around the corner and spotted Harry.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, trying, in vain, to knot his tie.

"Harry, this is a rather casual wedding, you know that, right?" Ron said, taking the tie from Harry and throwing it on the couch. "Besides, it clashes with what you're wearing and if you wear a suit, I guarantee you will be scorching by the end of the day." Harry nodded, looking at what he was wearing.

Since it was a casual wedding, only Hermione was the one who was really going to be dressed up. For himself, Harry had chosen khaki slacks and a button-up black short-sleeved shirt and dress shoes. Hermione had decided, upon first look at him in a tuxedo, that it made him look like an anorexic penguin, and had suggested he go casual. Harry had not had the chance to see the wedding dress (yet another wizarding tradition), but was sure it looked stunning on his soon to be wife.

"Looking good, Harry," another voice, this time a woman's came from the front door. Aunt Petunia stepped into the living room. "Very glad you didn't go with the tux. That suits you much better." Harry nodded his agreement; it certainly was more comfortable.

"Well, technically, I shouldn't be here," she said. "But I was sent by Molly to give you a status report. Everything is in place, the setting looks good. Luckily it shouldn't rain today, so that won't be a problem Hermione is getting dressed and fussed over as we speak, and things should go off without a hitch."

"How does she look?" Harry asked.

"Striking, dear, absolutely gorgeous," she said. "You're going to be stunned." She looked at her watch.

"Well, I'm needed at Fort Weasley, and so I'll see you at the wedding, Harry," she gave her nephew a hug. "I still can't believe you're getting married."

"I can't believe it much myself," Harry chuckled. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Neither would I," Petunia smiled, and headed out the door.

Meanwhile, at the Weasley's…

"Hermione, dear! We must hurry! The wedding is in six hours!" Mrs. Weasley's frantic voice called up the stairs as Hermione put on her wedding dress. While she loved the dress, she had always been self-conscious, and today was no different.

"You look fine, Hermione," her mother said. "Just come down so we can do your hair and make-up! The dresser's almost done with everyone else!" Hermione sighed to her reflection in the mirror and walked down the stairs.

"Beautiful," said Petunia, walking through the door. "Absolutely stunning." Everyone else agreed, and there was a moment of appreciation before Hermione was grabbed by the hand and led towards the hair dresser, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Sorry!" said Mrs. Weasley. "We had a bit of a delay." The dresser tisked disapprovingly, but continued with his work while everyone bustled around. Ginny was to be maid of honor, and Luna, Lavender, and Pavarti bridesmaids. Bill and Fluer's two year old twins, Matt and Madison, were flower girl and ring bearer. There was a lot to be done in six hours, and Hermione could only hope time would pass quickly.

They had decided to have the wedding outside, in Mrs. Weasley's garden, which was beautiful that time of year. It was to take place actually at night, with the stars glittering overhead. It, surprisingly, had been Harry's idea, and Hermione liked the idea so much that she agreed. As Harry stood nervously at the altar, Ron slapped him on the back.

"Well, I hate to say 'I told you so'," Ron said.

"What?"

"I always knew it would be you two," he said smugly. "Always."

"At least someone did," Harry muttered, twiddling his fingers nervously. "I didn't even realize it until a few months ago. And now here we are."

"I did think it was rather sudden," Ron chuckled. "But hey, why wait, right?"

"Right," Harry smiled, still twiddling his fingers. He checked his watch. Eight o' clock. She should be here any second. He watched the back of the yard with anticipation.

Finally, the wedding march started, and Harry's heart started to beat a thousand miles a minute. His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them hastily on his slacks. Having sweaty hands while getting married to the love of your life is not the best thing to do. He looked out on the crowd. It was a small wedding; only close friends and relatives allowed. There weren't many people, but all were staring at the back of the yard, as was he. And then, she arrived, and Harry's jaw dropped.

Harry, under normal circumstances, thought Hermione was beautiful, but tonight, it was compounded, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The dress was an off-white, matching well with her brown hair, which cascaded down her back like a waterfall. The dress was form-fitting and strapless, making Harry wish the ceremony was over so he could get both of them home and alone. She walked slowly down the aisle; so slowly that Harry thought he was watching things in slow motion. That was, at least, until Ron physically went over and pulled his jaw up from the ground.

"Well then," said the priest when Hermione was put in front of him. "We are gathered here today to join these two in wizarding matrimony." The small group attending nodded.

"While I have not known Harry and Hermione as long as any of you have," he began, "The moment I met them, I knew that they were meant for each other. These two have been through so much together, that it is no surprise they have decided to make the bond official. They share a friendship and romance so unique that it defies all odds. Both would readily give their lives for each other, as it should be with all marriages…" He droned on for awhile longer, naming the best traits of Harry and Hermione, and then the two of them together.

"Now, Harry, repeat after me," the priest said at last, bringing Harry back to his senses; he had barely been able to take his eyes off Hermione.

"I, Harry James Potter,"

"I, Harry James Potter,"

"Take thee, Hermione Jane Granger, as my wife,"

"Take thee, Hermione Jane Granger as my wife,"

"To love and cherish,"

"To love and cherish,"

"For as long as you both shall live,"

"For as long as we both shall live," Harry said. The priest smiled. Harry and Hermione had opted out of the "obey and cherish", "in sickness and in health", and "for richer or poorer" in their vows, for they assumed they were a given in marriage, and did not need to be said to be true. The priest instructed Hermione to do the same.

"Now, the rings," he said, clasping his hands together. Matt sleepily made his way up the yard; Harry wished he hadn't chosen to do the wedding at night, Matt was only two after all. The priest smiled again and handed the rings to the couple.

"Now, Harry, repeat after me…again," the priest chuckled. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed," Harry said, sliding the ring onto Hermione's hand.

"Hermione, your turn,"

"With this ring, I thee wed," Hermione said, sliding the ring onto Harry's left hand.

"I am now pleased to pronounce you man and wife," the priest said. "You may now kiss the bride." Harry smiled and gave his new wife a kiss. They turned to face their family and friends.

"I am now pleased to introduce you to….Mr. and Mrs. Potter!" the voice seemed to echo around the yard, and so did the applause and cheers. Harry turned to Hermione and smiled eager to begin their new life together.

The End

A/N: I know, corny ending, but I was writing through writer's block…cut me some slack! Please read and review! I hope you liked it. I'm contemplating a sequel, tell me if you think I should.