On a Night Like This

Part Three

Harry walked back to the Great Hall. The moment he set a foot into the room, he was once again pulled this way and that by reporters, teachers and everyone else in between, all wanting a moment with him.

While he shook hands and nodded and smiled to the praise heaped on him, his eyes searched the crowd for Kingsley. There he was, near the platform that once held the teacher's table and had been turned into a makeshift ambulance for the light cases, separated from the hall by a heavy curtain.

He seemed to be in a deep discussion with Professor McGonagall, but when he sensed Harry's eyes on himself, he looked up.

Harry pointed with his chin towards the hallway.

Kingsley grinned, gave him a short nod, and excused himself from Headmistress McGonagall. On his way out of the Great Hall he stopped and talked to a small group of Aurors.

They got up and followed him.

Satisfied that Kingsley would deal with the Malfoys, Harry returned his attention to the crowd besieging him.

As the day wore on and the news about Voldemort's downfall spread, more and more people came to the castle. Some of them were relatives of students, driven by real concern for their family. The majority, however, wanted to see with their own eyes that the monster was gone. The small chamber next to the Great Hall where they had put Voldemort's dead body became a veritable tourist attraction.

When they had satiated their curiosity, he was next on the list. By late afternoon he had troubles to keep on his feet, and a headache that felt as if a hot ring was tied around his head was killing him.

Hermione, Ron and he had been busy with preparations on the thirtieth of April, and they'd set out for the last step on the way to bring Voldemort down early in the morning of the first of May. He hadn't slept a wink in the night between, he'd been so full of adrenaline, and his last meal had been breakfast on the morning before, when he was too anxious to eat much.

Merlin, he needed a break, or he'd keel over any second.

A large hand on his shoulder made him turn around.

"May I have a word, Mr Potter?" Kingsley said and gave him a small wink.

Harry let out a silent breath of relief. He excused himself from his adoring public and followed the Auror out of the Great Hall.

"The Malfoys are dealt with," Kingsley said as soon as they were alone. He grinned. "You bundled them up in a nice package. Good work, lad, and thanks for not killing them."

"You're welcome." The words ended on a huge yawn he couldn't suppress.

Kingsley grabbed his shoulder once again, this time with a concerned look. "Go and get some sleep, you look dead on your feet, Harry."

He shook his head. "Can't, I've got a date in" - he checked his watch - "one hour. Won't miss it for anything in the world, so thanks for getting me out of there."

Kingsley let out a booming laugh. "Ah, to be that young again. The Greengrass girl, I suppose? My congratulations, she's a looker. Besides, it's a wise move on your side to go for a girl from a neutral family."

What did he mean by that? Kingsley didn't give him the time for a question, he squeezed his shoulder, gave him a nod, and turned around to walk back to the Great Hall.

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep sigh. Alone, at last!

He trudged his way up to the Gryffindor dorms. The Moving Staircases had stopped moving, but at least they were still intact, so he could get to the common room, even though with a long detour.

He'd made it as far as to the third floor when the sound of running footsteps behind him made him stop. His wand at the ready, he turned around.

"Harry, wait!"

At the sound of Hermione's voice he relaxed and stashed his wand back in the back-pocket of his jeans. The next moment his best friends turned around the corner.

"Where are you going, mate?" Ron asked.

He hesitated, could he tell them what he was up to? No, they knew nothing about Daphne and him, they wouldn't understand and insist it was a trap of Death Eaters who wanted to take out their revenge on him. Or even worse, they'd insist on coming with him. That would go over well with Daphne.

A small snort escaped him at that thought.

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "Is everything alright with you, Harry?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, you don't look like it."

He rolled his eyes with an inward groan. Telling Hermione he just needed some alone time was out of the question now. He knew the look she gave him, she'd given it to him too many times to count over the years, whenever she was convinced he was dealing with some problems and needed to talk.

She was right, he needed to talk. Just not to her; there was only one person in this world he wanted to unburden his load to, and he was not yet sure if she was willing to take it.

Aloud he said, "Look, Hermione, I'm dead on my feet, I haven't slept for two days; all I want right now is my four poster bed and a good sleep."

Hermione's face softened, she bent forward and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Harry. Go and get some rest."

She took Ron by the hand, and they walked back to the Great Hall.

Phew! Harry let out a deep breath. What a narrow escape, he'd half expected her to insist coming with him and make sure he was tucked in properly.

He was still chuckling when he reached the Gryffindor dorms. Although all the windows were broken and shards of glass covered the floors, the tower was still standing by some miracle. He trudged up to the seventh year boy's dorm and looked at his watch. He still had a little more than half an hour to spare.

What now?

He gave the four poster beds a wistful glance, but decided against a nap. If he lay down now, he'd be out like a light and never would be able to get up in time for his date with Daphne. Maybe a shower would keep him awake.

He looked down at himself and made a face. Definitely a shower, and fresh clothes, too. He'd put on the jeans and t-shirt he wore on Friday morning, and now was Sunday afternoon. Between then and now lay a battle, his death, and the defeat of a Dark Lord; his clothes were splattered with stains the origins he didn't want to know, and he smelled like a polecat.

A long shower helped a lot to ease the tension in his muscles, and wash away the fatigue. Good thinking he'd developed the habit of carrying all of his possessions shrunken in the Mokeskin pouch Hagrid gave him for his seventeenth birthday, and even better that Hermione made him shop new clothes during the time they stayed hidden in plain sight at a Muggle hotel in Manchester. In order to keep themselves sane during the hunt for the Horcrux, both he and Hermione had wandered around Manchester city centre, whilst Ron opted to stay in the hotel room. Even though Harry had vowed never to shop with Hermione Granger ever again, right now he could kiss his best friend for all the clothes she helped him pick out, he would have been horrified turning up to this evening with Daphne in his Dursley rags.

He pulled his shrunken trunk out of the mokeskin pouch and examined its content. A pair of tight, straight cut grey jeans caught his eye, there had to be a dark blue t-shirt somewhere that went with them. Ah, there it was.

He pulled the t-shirt over his head and eyed himself in the bathroom mirror.

"Yummy," the mirror said.

His cheeks grew warm. Although he wasn't as vain as Seamus, the mirror had a point. Whenever they'd come to a dead end in their search for Voldemort's Horcruxes, he'd hit the gym at the hotel to work away his frustration. As soon as he realised the positive results on his stamina and strength, he'd even doubled his efforts. As a result, the t-shirt fit him like a second skin and showed off his broad shoulders and narrow hips.

Would Daphne like his new looks? She didn't seem to get enough of exploring his chest and abdomen with her hands the one night they'd spent together…

The heat in his cheeks intensified. She'd said she would love to continue what they had started, find out what they could be. What if she had changed his mind?

His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at that thought.

Yet, she had run to him, hugged him and kissed him. His heartbeat sped up. Maybe she had missed him as much as he had missed her?

All the time he was smiling and shaking hands he just wanted to see her, now at last he could. He pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head and left the dorm. His heart beat a happy dance, he couldn't wait to see her again, and almost sprinted to the tower.

She was waiting for him at the peak, her impassive face gave way to a bright smile as he ripped off the cloak.

She pulled a piece of parchment out of her cloak and held it out to him. "Do you trust me, Harry?"

"Yes."

Mrs Weasley would scold him rotten for being so reckless to run away from the castle with a woman he barely knew, so soon after the battle. Yet he knew he could trust Daphne. It was not because she had slept with him, no, it was because she had showed him her vulnerable side, something she usually hid under her impassive face so well that some idiots at school had called her the Ice Queen, and she'd accepted a marriage that seemed like a life sentence to her to keep her family safe. Being a private person himself, and having accepted to sacrifice himself to keep his friends and their families safe, he could relate to that.

Daphne and he had more in common than met the eye. Was it enough to make them last longer than just a short, passionate fling? He surely hoped so, but only time would tell.

He looked down on the piece of parchment, an address was neatly scrawled on it.

"The parchment will act as a Portkey. Follow me in ten minutes; I need time for some preparations."

"What preparations?" He wriggled his eyebrows at her.

She just laughed and put her wand to another piece of parchment. The parchment glowed blue, and Daphne vanished.

Harry sighed and pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head once again. Merlin forbid one of his adoring fans would stumble on him while he waited for those ten minutes to pass.

He looked at his watch while he replayed Daphne's laugh in his memory again and again. It was soft and musical, and carefree. In the short time they'd spent together she'd never laughed that carefree, and he couldn't wait to hear that sound again.

At last those ten minutes that felt a lifetime had passed. He pulled out his wand under his Invisibility Cloak and put it on the piece of parchment in his hand. He might trust Daphne, but he was no fool. She might have been followed and used without her knowledge, so he'd better be safe than sorry.

The next moment the Portkey yanked him away and spun him through the void for a few long minutes. He landed under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak and looked around.

The Portkey dropped him in a quiet country lane. Birds chirped in the blossoming hedgerows that lined the lane, and there was the faint sound of waves crashing against rocks in the distance. He turned his attention to the cottage before him. Walled with neatly trimmed ivy that gave the home a very natural feel, and a small lawn littered with beautiful flowers, it looked cosy and inviting.

Some lingering tension he hadn't realised until now that was still there dropped from his shoulders. His breathing became lighter and he straightened. The cottage surely didn't look like a Death Eater haunt, after what he remembered from Malfoy Manor they preferred a more gothic ambiente.

Movement in one of the front windows caught his eye. A light shone there, a warm glow emitting from the room.

Then he saw her.

She was doing something in front of the window, he couldn't make out quite what, and as though she sensed his eyes on her she looked up.

Something fluttered in his stomach, and his mouth became dry. Gods,she was so beautiful.

She smiled at him through the window. Her smile was bright and - hopeful?

Ten months ago they had shared an unexpected night of passion, driven by their fear of death and a dark future. That night bore unexpected feelings to surface for the both of them. However, now that the threat was gone, where did that leave them?

He looked down at his empty hands. Maybe he should have brought something with him, a bottle of wine, or at least some flowers.

Then again, they had decided to meet tonight to talk. Treating this like a date might be a bit presumptuous on his side.

Yes, she had been happy that he had survived, the embrace back at school had shown that. He knew he wanted this to go somewhere, but what about her? She'd said that fateful night she'd want to find out what they could be. That had been ten months and a war ago, what if she had changed her mind? Now she was not forced to marry Malfoy anymore she was free, the fire that drove her and him together was gone.

His heartbeat seemed to stop at the thought, and he swallowed hard.

Perhaps he should just go to her and find out.

He looked up at the window again. She dried her hands and stepped back from the window, probably to open the door for him. He walked up the front path and reached the dark wooden door just as it opened. He swallowed again. Was she as nervous as he?

"You came!" she said with a large smile on her face.

"You doubted I would?"

"No, I just... I don't know." She laughed nervously and bit her lip.

His eyes lingered on her rosy mouth. Should he just bent down and kiss her?

"Come in." She stepped aside to let him into the hallway.

Damn, the moment was gone.

The entryway had pale walls and light oak trim with matching hardwood floors. An elegant coat stand to the right of the door and a small table to the left. Two doors on the right, one towards the back and lastly one on the left led to the rooms on the ground floor.

"Can I take your coat?"

He suppressed a wince. They were much too formal with each other. "Oh, yes of course!" He pulled off his coat and revealed the outfit he'd chosen to impress her.

She took his coat, her eyes flickered over him, and a light dusting of pink appeared on her cheeks.

So, she liked what she saw? He straightened and gave her a playful grin. "Thank you."

The pink on her cheeks seemed to become deeper.

A faint smell of roast chicken permeated through the hallway, and his stomach, reminded that he hadn't had any food for more than a day, gave a loud growl of appreciation. Now it was his turn for the heat to rise to his face, and he gave the young woman beside him a sheepish sideway glance.

A hearty laugh escaped Daphne's lips. It was contagious, and he chuckled, too. Their laughter did wonders to defuse the nervous energy that had filled the hallway.

"Come on through, dinner is ready." She walked ahead, through the door on the left. That gave him time to admire her incredible appearance.

She wore a slate grey skirt that was quite a bit shorter than the conservative school skirts she wore at Hogwarts, paired with a cobalt blue asymmetrical sleeved top that left her right shoulder and arm exposed. The skirt gave him a nice view of her legs, and he smiled in appreciation. Had she remembered how much he was attracted to her legs and dressed accordingly? She didn't wear much makeup, she didn't need it, she had a natural beauty to her that make up would ruin. He internally thanked Hermione for updating his wardrobe during this year on the run.

The kitchen had white cabinets with oak wooden tops, whoever owned this place had good tastes. His eyes swerved to the table. A simple candle sat at its centre, between two plates with steaming food under a Stasis Charm. Elegant crystal glasses and a few bottles of cider in a cooler rounded the inviting picture.

"I didn't really know what you liked, so I played it safe with chicken, potatoes and vegetables. Oh, and treacle tart for dessert," she said.

"It's perfect, tart is my favourite."

"I imagine most men say that." She giggled.

He caught onto her meaning and chuckled also.

"Should we eat? I thought you might be hungry after today and well, I wanted to talk, so I thought it would make sense." Her words were rushed, and she bit her lips as she ended.

Could it be she was as nervous about this as he was?

"You read my mind, I haven't eaten before the… Well, before the battle, so..." He trailed off again. "But let's eat, it looks wonderful."

He pulled out a chair and offered her the seat. She sat down with a smile.

"I confess that I didn't know what to cook, so I asked Tracey, who in turn spoke to Blaise. You know him from the Quidditch team, I guess?" She cut a small piece of chicken and put it into her mouth.

Harry nodded. "He played chaser, didn't he? I knew him better from the Slug Club, however." He pulled a face at the memory of the club.

Daphne laughed. "That's something you have in common; he hated that club. Spoke quite highly of you though."

He rose his eyebrows at that, even though he knew that not all Slytherins were horrid, he didn't expect one to rate him in any way. Especially not Blaise, he hadn't been friendly when they ran into each other on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of sixth year.

His scepticism didn't escape her. "Don't look so disbelieving, not all of us disliked you, there were some who even wanted to reach out, but they never dared. You know how it was, Malfoy had decided you were his enemy before we had even reached Hogwarts, and after fourth year, when things got darker, becoming friends with Harry Potter was the sure way to self-destruction if you were a Slytherin."

Had she been one of those who wanted to reach out? Harry itched to know, but perhaps that was a question for a later time, when they had defined how they stood with each other. "I understand." He smiled to show her he meant no offense, and took another bite of his chicken. It tasted simply divine. "Did you make this yourself?" He gestured to the food.

"I did, I hope it is ok?"

"It's wonderful!" He never would've thought that a Pureblood was this good in the kitchen. Then again, Mrs Weasley was also a Pureblood, she'd drag him over hot coals if she heard him voice that thought.

Daphne smiled at him over the candle. "Thank you, I'm glad you like it. As I was saying, Blaise suggested that his go to was this, it tastes good and it's good if you like to keep in shape."

"So you're saying I'm in shape, or that I need to get in shape?" He winked at her.

She went bright red. "Gods, no! I mean you are in shape, I saw as much – I mean... Oh, stop talking, Daphne."

Harry broke into a hearty laugh.

She glared at him for a moment, then joined in with his laughter.

"How long have you been cooking?"

"My mother insists that we learnt from a young age; just because we have house elves doesn't mean we won't appreciate developing skills, she would say." A fond smile graced her lips.

How many memories of cooking with her mother flitted about her mind right now?

Her beautiful blue eyes met his warmth behind them. "Truth be told, I think she just wanted an excuse to spend time with us, and it was a method to do that."

"A wise woman." How different their memories of their childhood were. He also had cooked with his aunt and had given his best in hopes of some affection. It never came, and over time he grew to dread her presence and gave up hope for any kind of care. How much of that translated into his teenage years he could never tell.

"She has her moments. For a Gryffindor anyway." She gave him a teasing wink.

"I knew I liked your mother from the moment I saw her."

That made her giggle.

"Let me guess, your father was a Ravenclaw?"

He eyes bugged out a little whilst she chewed. "How did you know? Was it the bored expression he has on his face?"

"I wouldn't have put it like that... But yes, the ravens are always so serious."

"He is, that's why mother is good for him. She doesn't take his nonsense." Daphne placed down her fork and leaned forward. "How about you Harry, do you cook?"

"Er, I do actually. I'm rather good at it, I think, at least no one has complained." He would know if he were poor at cooking, the Dursley's wouldn't have held back their disapproval.

"Well, that doesn't surprise me, you appear to be naturally good at anything you do." She gave him a meaningful look from under long eyelashes, and the heat shot into his face. "It's one of the primary reasons Draco hated you so much." She continued as if she didn't notice his embarrassment. "You outclassed him and many others at everything you did. And if you are such a hand in the kitchen, we should cook together sometime, see what we come up with."

"I'd like that." He smiled. Unbidden images of what else they could come up with in the kitchen assaulted his mind. Going by the mischievous grin she gave him over the rim of her glass that was exactly what she had had in mind. That little minx! At the mention of Malfoy, however, a question that had lingered at the back of his mind ever since the encounter in the hallway came forward.

"How was it here for you? Did Draco try anything?"

"Well, being a Pureblood made things a lot easier. The Muggleborns and half-bloods had it far worse." Her eyes darkened at those last words. "Tracey was lucky, she had protection from Blaise as his mistress... That's what those bigots called her." A spark of fury appeared in her eyes. "They won't understand that Blaise really loves her. I wouldn't be surprised if he proposes soon."

"No one ever said Death Eaters were smart."

"Right." She picked up her glass and took a sip. "I won't lie to you, Draco did try pushing things. I'm not stupid, however, so I was never alone. Tracey, Tori and Blaise were always around. Thankfully Pansy's more loose nature did keep him less focused on me."

Harry tensed and flattened his lips into a thin line.

Something she clearly noted. "He never touched me, I promise. If he had, then trust me, he would've known about us. He was likely scared of the curse put on his family as Death Eaters. The worst I got was slurs and suggestions."

He let out a breath of relief. At least her torment had not been as bad as he had feared whilst he was away.

"How are you feeling though? Today, as trying for the rest of us, was nothing compared to what you must have gone through." She gave him an appraising look.

He returned her gaze. What had Kingsley said about talking back at the castle? Despite everything that had happened to him, he'd always dealt with the repercussions alone, locked up in his summer jail at the Dursleys. He'd never felt the need to talk, either; one of the first rules his aunt and uncle had ingrained into him was not to talk about what happened to him. So he'd suffered in silence, not even Ron and Hermione knew what was really going on inside of him.

What was so different about the young woman who sat opposite of him that he not only considered unburdening his load to her, but deep inside knew he'd be devastated if she refused to take the part in his life he offered her?

Well, there was only one way to find out if today would end in elation or devastation. "I'll tell you, but perhaps somewhere more comfortable?"

"Of course, let's go into the living room. Come on." She rose from her seat as she spoke.

He motioned to follow, but stopped as he remembered something from earlier. "You said there was treacle tart?"

She laughed at the puppy-dog eyes he gave her.

"I shall get some for us, hang on." She gave him a wink and removed the plates from the table.

He admired her from behind as she moved about the kitchen.

"What made you pick this desert?"

She flushed bright red. How odd.

"When I thought about inviting you over, I panicked a bit about what to feed you." She bit her lower lip.

Why by Merlin's balls was she so embarrassed?

"I told you there were some Slytherins who wanted to reach out to you, didn't I?"

He nodded; where was this going?

Her cheeks pinked again. "Well, I was one of them. I used to watch you across the Great Hall for an opening to get to know you. My bad luck you were always surrounded by Weasley, or Granger, or some of your housemates who used to glower at us whenever a Slytherin came closer to you than three yards. But I happened to notice little things about you, one of them was that you seemed to like treacle tart for dessert."

"Well, you weren't wrong."

"I was very relieved when you said earlier." She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, and they both laughed.

Daphne picked up the two plates with the dessert from the kitchen counter. "Come on, I'll show you to the living room."

They exited the kitchen and crossed the entryway to the room opposite. Since her hands were full, he opened the door for her and followed her into a very cosy living space. Two comfortable red and cream tartan sofas sat opposite each other to the left and right of the large fireplace, with an oak coffee table separating them. Many plush cushions and soft throws laid out over them, and oak wooden floors with a large grey shaggy rug covering much of the floor space added to the cosy feeling of the room. Opposite of one sofa a large window faced the front lawn of the cottage. Beyond that was a stretch of unkempt beach grass, and then nothing but the open skies and a silvery strip of water in the distance.

Harry supposed that was the point where the cliffs dropped into the sea. "This is beautiful," he muttered.

"It is, isn't it?" Daphne motioned to one of the sofas, inviting him to sit down. They both opted for the one facing the window, though the failing light hindered their view, not that it mattered, for their eyes lingered on one another. They sat close together, both tucking into their tarts.

"Is this cottage your family's?" Harry asked at length. He knew that he was stalling, he was not yet ready, he just needed to get his thoughts in order first.

A flicker of understanding flashed behind her eyes.

"My mother came from a poorer pureblood family, not poverty, but not from money, either. My father's family has the money. My parents met just after Hogwarts, it was quite the whirlwind romance from what my mother tells of it." There was that fond smile again, it appeared whenever she spoke of her family.

A dull heartache spread in his chest, he took a deep breath, and his mouth curved into a wistful smile. Her childhood must have been much different from his, everything she'd told him so far spoke of her growing up in the security of a loving environment, despite her father's despicable bargain with Lucius Malfoy. Oh, to have a family like that one day… He pushed that little child under the stairs away.

"When they married, my father was expected to keep up appearances. He is a Greengrass and thus has a seat on the Wizengamot, so there are expectations. My mother, however, wanted to remember her roots, so father had this built for her." She gestured around the cosy room. "We come here in the summer sometimes, or for weekends away, I have a lot of childhood memories here."

He smiled to himself, as much as he hated his upbringing, it gave him great joy that Daphne had grown up in a good family.

"Its sounds wonderful, Daphne." He had finished his tart whilst she spoke, placed the plate on the coffee table, and looked her in the eyes. "You asked how I was feeling."

She sat up straight, put her own plate down, and reached for his hand.

He took a deep breath, it was now or never, and raised his eyes to hers. There was nothing but genuine concern and warmth in those wonderful blue eyes. If he unloaded his burden now, would it fade away?

"I'm exhausted, relieved, but so tired. Fighting him today was… tougher than I ever imagined. I knew it wouldn't be easy, hell, I expected to die today, and I nearly did."

She sat there quietly, her hand still holding his, and it seemed to him as if his words had ignited a small light in her eyes.

"And, although he deserved it, I feel sick at the memory of me using that curse. The Killing Curse, I never thought I would have to use it ever in my life. The moment I cast it, I felt tainted, and my wand," - he pulled out his holly and phoenix wand, the one that had served him for seven years - "I don't feel a connection anymore, it feels wrong, as if it doesn't belong to me anymore. And then there's Remus and Tonks, they left a son behind, my godson. Yeah, his parents were heroes, but I can tell you that offers no comfort growing up."

The back of his throat ached, and his eyes burnt as the words kept coming. "The moment I killed him, the weight off my shoulders was instant. All I wanted then was curl up in a corner, but seconds later I have so many people grabbing at me, classmates and people who not two years before were calling me a liar. They expected me to just smile and shake their hand, like I owe them something."

He took a deep breath.

"I couldn't even go and see Fred, or Remus and Tonks, because those parasitic bastards would hound me in my grief." He willed the tears behind his eyes to stay put. He had not cried since Sirius death; he had spent two years bottling up all that anger and hurt.

She squeezed his hand again. "I am surprised you are even on your feet, Harry. I only caught a few moments of your fight with him before my sister needed me. You barely deflected a curse, I've never felt fear like that when I watched you fighting him, the fact you could stand toe to toe with him is amazing."

"Well, then you know what I talked about. Had he managed to land a curse on me…" His lungs would have burst, the mere thought made him shudder.

Daphne edged closer towards him on the sofa. She raised her hand and cupped his cheek, and her thumb caressing him with gentle strokes ignited a pleasant warmth in him, despite the devastation and grief of the day.

"You should feel no guilt for killing him. Yes, the Killing Curse is dark, and many have written about its effects to the user. I am relieved you feel wrong after using it, you should never be ok casting that spell, no one should. As for your wand? Since you've received it you have had to fight for your life. However, that chapter of your life is over now, and maybe your time with that wand is too."

How did she manage to find the right words to put things back into perspective? He looked into her eyes again, the light was still there, brighter and warmer even. A reluctant smile spread on his face. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Of course, I'm a Greengrass, I know things."

Her small joke earned a snort from him.

Her gaze softened further. "As for your godson, I did not know Professor Lupin well, save for our lessons, but he was always kind and helpful. They couldn't have picked a better person to be their son's godfather, I cannot imagine growing up without my parents, but the fact that you have gives you better perspective on how he will feel growing up. You can relate where others cannot." She cuddled up to him and put her head on his shoulder.

She was right on all accounts. They sat like that for a long time, hand in hand, just taking silent comfort with each other.

At last he spoke again. "I don't think I would've survived, had I not met you that night"

Her eyes became wide. "How's that?"

"I never was one for planning, I always left that to Hermione, she is much better organised than I will ever be. She had originally suggested to pack a tent and our belongings and to go into hiding in the wilds of Britain. I agreed to her plan, since I had no ideas of my own to offer. It wasn't until after my promise to you that I realised that plan had huge holes. Besides, it was what every Death Eater would expect us to do."

"You could be forgiven for that, the whole wizarding world tipped on its head at Dumbledore's death. So, what did you do?"

"Well, straight after I left you at the common room, it dawned on me that I'd better do something to make sure I would survive the war instead on relying solely on Hermione. That was when the flaws in Hermione's plan dawned on me. I reasoned that the only way to keep the Death Eaters off my trail was to disappear into the Muggle world. I figured most would be like Malfoy, completely hopeless about that side of the world. Turns out I was right."

"That's… very clever, Purebloods are terrified of the Muggle world."

He grinned at her. "Then you will love this. I had my house elf visit Gringotts to make a withdrawal and transfer the funds into British pounds. I made a reservation with a hotel that offers accommodations for assemblers and commercial travellers for a few months, and over the next week ensured that our things were moved there." The words poured out of him, it was so easy to confide in her.

"How Slytherin of you Harry, I'm proud."

"Given Voldemort's target audience of followers, I reasoned I'd stand a good chance of evading him. It allowed us to do what needed to be done with less risk." Warmth welled up in him as something akin to pride highlighted her face.

He paused, time to be honest with her and talk about the hard part.

"I really missed you, I know I said that back at school, and it sounds cheesy and likely doesn't make sense, given we had only that one night together."

She threaded his fingers with her own. He looked up into her eyes and saw only understanding.

"Trust me Harry, it's been weird for me as well. The last thing I expected that night I ran into you was to have sex and lose my virginity. I never then expected to miss you quite as much as I did." Again, there was that light in her eyes. "I thought it was just the fact we'd had sex, maybe there was lingering hormones from that, but as the days and weeks went by I couldn't shake the feeling."

His belly fluttered, he swallowed and put his arm around her. "It was the same for me."

"But you're here now. With me"

"You have no idea how close that came to not happening, Daphne. By all rights I shouldn't be here right now."

He took a deep breath. This was it. The damn had burst, and everything was going to come flushing out. How would she react to that?

"I died in that forest, Voldemort wasn't lying."

Her face paled. "But you're here. So how did you-"

"I had to die for Voldemort to be killed. It's a very long and twisted story that I will one day sit down with you and explain, but in brief, when Voldemort failed to kill me when I was a baby, part of his soul latched onto me. He needed to kill me to kill it."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her mouth formed a silent "No!"

"I went down to the forest. He stood there, gloating about his victory, but all I could think about was you."

A shuddered breath escaped her lips, and he gently pulled her to him.

"I held onto our last kiss when he cast that spell. I couldn't keep my promise to come back to you, and that hurt."

The memory of his personal failure in that moment threatened to haunt him in his final moments. Yet when the green light had split the darkness, he knew that his death would lead to victory, and lead to her freedom. That alone made his sacrifice worth it.

"I died with a happy memory."

She let out a sob and buried herself into him, her arms gripped him, and her face buried into his neck. A hot flow of tears ran against his neck.

"Please say this is real? That I'm not in St Mungo's now and this is just a dream?" She whimpered against his neck.

He held her tighter to him. "No, I am real, I promise." He chuckled, trying to sooth her, which earned him a slap on the arm.

"This is not fucking funny, Harry Potter!" She pulled away from his neck and pushed away slightly so she could look him in the face. "No more putting yourself in deadly danger, do you hear me? You've done it often enough, and I won't allow it anymore."

"Yes, Miss Greengrass, I promise." He couldn't contain the big smile at her obvious concern about him.

She glowered at him. "See to that! And now kiss me!" It wasn't a request, and he was only too happy to oblige.

When their lips met for the second time since his return, their kiss seemed to wash away all his stress and grief. Instead, healing set in. It would only be for a few moments of bliss, yet those moments reminded him what he'd been fighting for, and they were worth all the hardships.

He had seen many sides to Daphne's affections in their very brief romance. Heated and hungry, soft and loving, pure and honest. This kiss was different, it was heated and filled with relief, but also a promise that the best things for them were still to come.

They broke apart and held one another there on the sofa.

"You know that we at last can be together, without house restrictions and people trying to hex us in the hallways for the choice we made?" Daphne murmured against his chest.

"That sounds too good to be true." He'd buried his hand in her silken hair and caressed her scalp with his fingertips. Kingsley's parting words about Daphne being a wise choice for him came back, and he suppressed a sigh. She was wrong, as the man who conquered Voldemort he'd always have a prominent spot in the magical world, maybe even as prominent as Dumbledore's had been. Whomever he chose to be with would also be in the limelight. There would be those who would approve, but there would also be those who would think he could have done better and put them under pressure because of that.

In the end all that mattered were their own feelings. As long as they were convinced they belonged together, the whole world could piss off, as far as he was concerned.

Would she be willing to cope with all that for his sake? Only time would tell. Right now he was much too tired and much too comfortable than to worry about the future. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. Her hand caressed his chest, and he almost purred. This felt so good...

A slight shake from Daphne startled him, he opened his eyes and blinked.

"Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?"

"You did." She giggled. "Would you like to go to the bedroom?" There was a touch of shyness in her voice.

Harry froze, he had expected to return to Hogwarts tonight. Perhaps he had been a little naïve.

"Don't get the wrong idea, I think sleep is what we both need. I just don't think I'll sleep without you by my side tonight." There was a touch of vulnerability to her voice that made his mind up for him.

His heart was threatening to jump out of his mouth as he pulled her closer and gave her a small kiss.

"I feel the same."

A relieved look passed over her fair face. "Will you accompany me to bed then?" She rose from the sofa.

He was about to agree when something crossed his mind. "What about your parents? Are they ok with this?" He cursed himself internally, way to ruin the mood, Potter!

"My father is wary, but that's due to what could've been. He was terrified of my union to Draco and is just very protective of me since that." Daphne came to stand in front of him, took his hand and pulled him up. "Yet my mother and I convinced him that given what I was nearly sacrificing for the family, I had the right to choose here and be allowed a little freedom."

She pulled him with her out of the living room and through the hallway. The bedroom was at the very end of the entryway. The bed matched much of the rest of the furniture in the house, painted white with oak trim, with a red tartan spread. A fireplace lay opposite the foot of the bed, with a comfy looking snuggle chair in the corner by the window. A door next to the bed, which was ajar, showed an ensuite bathroom.

"If you give me a minute, I will just get changed." She gave him a gentle smile and slipped into the bathroom.

His hand went up and pulled at the collar of his shirt. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Yes, they had seen each other naked and shared a very intimate night together the year before, so nothing would be new there, but this was a new level of closeness for them. A reluctant smile flickered across Harry's face. Who was he fooling? He couldn't wait to explore that closeness with her, see where it would take them.

He looked down at his clothes, he wasn't expecting to stay the night, so he had no change of clothes.

"Are you a wizard or what?" Harry removed his t-shirt and transfigured his jeans into comfortable pyjama trousers. He caught the reflection of himself in the mirror above the fireplace. His torso was heavily defined now, during the down time in the horcrux hunt he expelled a lot of his frustrations in the hotel gym. Would Daphne find it appealing? He surely hoped so.

The mirror showed the bathroom door opening, and Daphne exited. He turned and smiled at her. "Should we get some rest?"

Daphne's eyes got wide as she took in his appearance. Her tongue flicked across her lips, and she nodded. Her hands fumbled with the loosely knotted belt of her silver coloured silk peignoir; the robe slipped off her shoulders and revealed a green nightie with lots of semi-transparent lace.

Little Harry gave an appreciative twitch, although it was halfhearted, at best. The day he'd had left him no energy to show her how much he liked her arousing outfit.

Daphne pulled him to the bed, peeled back the covers and slipped in.

"What are you waiting for?" She beckoned her finger to him to join her.

He sighed in relief as his aching body hit the soft mattress, and the warmth of the duvet covered them both. He reached out for her, intent on having her close to him, but she was already a step ahead as she pressed herself to his side, her hand tracing the defined outline of his stomach.

"I still can't believe you defeated him."

"Lack of faith in me, then." He chuckled; the feel of her head against his chest was divine.

"Not at all. You fought the Dark Lord, Harry, a wizard feared by all and seemingly untouchable." She looked up, her chin resting on his chest. "And then you came along and showed he was mortal like all of us."

"Hmmm… It's over, finally." He yawned, he'd be out like a light in another minute. His eyelids fluttered shut.

"One last question before you fall asleep on me again, it's been bugging me all afternoon."

He yanked his eyes open. "That is?"

Daphne giggled. "What happened to your glasses?"

"My glasses? Woman, don't you have any other problems and can't let a tired wizard sleep?" He gave a playful growl and pulled her closer towards him.

"Just tell me, Harry, I don't think I'll be able to sleep otherwise."

She looked up at him with big, blue eyes, and he was a goner. He'd never be able to refuse her anything if she looked at him like this. How long until she found out how much power she held over him? Not long, she was a Slytherin, after all, that bunch had a nose for power, but Merlin, what a way to go.

He chuckled. "All right, can't have that, can we? After I defeated him, I felt different, my eyesight was improved and I felt lighter, stronger even. Honestly, I don't know why."

"Well, I think you look great without them," she whispered. She leaned up, pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and snuggled back into his arms..

"Goodnight, Daphne."

"Night, Harry."

…

She and Harry ran around the garden of the cottage, a little girl between them. The long, strawberry blonde hair of the child streamed behind her as she ran, her green eyes, so much like her father's, beamed with delight to have both of her parents to herself. Harry picked the little girl up and swung her high over his head.

The high-pitched giggles of her daughter turned into deep, male chuckles, intermingled with female laughter. Harry stood up and refilled the wine glasses of Hermione, Ron, Tracey and Blaise. He picked up his own glass and raised it to their guests. "To friendship!"

"To friendship," their guests echoed, and drank. Across the length of the table, loaded with goodies she and Harry had prepared together, her eyes met her husband's. Their tender expression never failed to melt her heart, and she blew him a kiss over the rim of her glass.

The expression of his eyes became heated. His arms slid around her waist and pressed her against his naked body, his mouth descended on her and trailed a long line of kisses along her jawbone and down her throat.

She let out a moan of delight.

Harry steered her towards the low coffee table of the living room, never ceasing his ministrations.

The familiar heat pooled in her belly. Her calves touched the overhanging edge of the table top. Harry lowered her down until her back lay on the top, her feet still planted on the shaggy rug. Her thighs fell open, ready to receive him.

He lowered himself onto her. His first, hard thrust made her whimper in delight.

He thrusted harder. His groan mixed with the sound of splintering wood. The table gave out beneath her, and she fell, and fell, and fell…

Daphne gasped and tore her eyes wide open. Her heart hammered in her chest, her secret spot throbbed, and the bubbling heat in her nether regions begged for release.

She was pressed up against him, her hardened nipples pointing against his chest through the thin fabric of her nightie.

The large bulge in his sleepwear didn't help her in the slightest to cool down from her erotic dream. She was craving him, simple as that. She had abandoned plans to seduce him last night after that emotionally draining discussion in the living room. Now it was a new day, however, and he was free game.

She brought her knee up and over his hips, pressed her soft body against his, and trailed her lips down his neck and chest. That hard length of flesh against her stomach made her moan in delight.

He stirred and his hands gripped her sides.

He was awake; good. That way he'd appreciate much more what she was about to do.

Her lips trailed down to his stomach, his abdominals set something off in her she hadn't thought was possible. The old timers would cry out in disgust about the vulgarity, given they knew that a heiress of one of the sacred twenty-eight families let herself be ruled by her primal instincts.

She held in the laughter threatening to spill. When she got down to the hem of Harry's trousers, she held her breath. What she was intending to do could go either very well or hideously wrong.

"What are you up to?" Harry's voice was thick with desire.

"Just relax and enjoy, you'll see in a minute." She took a breath and pulled his hard length of flesh from its confines. His member twitched in her hand, and he let out a low groan that fuelled her own desire. With a final breath she opened her mouth and took him in.

He took a sharp intake of breath, and his body shook with delight.

Daphne grinned around him; maybe Tracey was on to something after all.

She applied herself to her task with renewed vigor. Judging by the sounds coming from above her she was doing something right. His body shook violently.

Her own desire reached fever pitch, she was ready to take him now, her centre burned with desire, and she couldn't wait to have that part of her embrace him again.

She continued to pleasure him with her mouth until his hand fisted in her hair and lifted her head gently.

"Love, you need to stop... Otherwise I'm not going to last." He panted above her.

She let him slip from her mouth and looked up with a mischievous grin. "Did you enjoy your treat?"

He didn't answer. Instead he pulled her up with a low growl and flipped her over and onto her back. Her nightie rode up her thighs, the next moment his lips were at her neck, nipping and kissing, while his morning stubble tickled her sensitive skin.

She moaned between giggles.

He raised his head and gave her a feral grin. "You've had your fun, woman, let's get to business."

Delicious heat consumed her whole body as he pulled the straps of her nightgown down and pushed it up from her hips until the silk bunched at her waist. He was right, she didn't want teasing right now, there would be plenty of time for that in future, all she wanted now after ten months apart was him inside of her.

She didn't have to wait for long until his hardened length pressed into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she arched her back with a sensual groan to meet his thrust. Merlin, it had been too long!

Not surprising, they both didn't last long; her climax hit her with the weight of a freight train.

"Definitely Silencing Charms next time." Harry panted into her ear between breathless chuckles.

She pouted. 'It's all your fault."

"Says she who sexually assaults innocent wizards in their sleep."

"I didn't hear you telling me to stop."

He gave her a saucy grin. "What, and deprive myself? I'm not made out of stone, love."

"Could have fooled me, at least part of you." She returned his saucy grin.

They laughed; Harry turned around and pulled her with him. He nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear. "What gave you that idea?"

She made herself comfortable on his chest. "You might want to thank Tracey for that."

His eyes almost bulged out of his head. "You're discussing our love life with her?"

"Not if I can help it." She giggled at his horrified expression. "However, if you knew her as well as I do, you'd know that nothing is taboo for her. Unfortunately, her favourite subject of conversation is sex. I was rather down all the time you were away, and she tried to lighten my mood by bringing up interesting ways to pleasure each other when you'd returned. Going down on you was one of them. You should have seen my face when she suggested practising on a banana!" She shuddered.

He laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at her in a suggestive manner. "So there's more for me to look forward to?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she replied with a smile. This was bliss, with the war over they could finally explore whatever was between them.

However, what was between them? She had to know.

She raised her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. "Tell me, what are we, Harry? Are we just here for the phyiscal? Or are we an item?"

She wanted more than just the first option.

He tightened his grip around her. "Definitely the latter, if you will have me." His voice was strong and sincere.

A huge smile appeared on her face. Instead of an answer she leaned up and kissed him deeply. When they broke apart at last, she leaned her forehead against his and smiled into his tender eyes. "Now that that's settled, boyfriend of mine, you'd better get that delectable behind of yours out of bed, dress, and meet my parents for breakfast."

He answered with a long groan that was drowned out by her laughter.

…

And done! Massive efforts from Dorothea Greengrass here, thank you so much for all the help on this one.

That is the first instalment, there will be many one/two shots following throughout different stages of the couple's lives!

I have a few penned down!