So sorry for the extremely delayed post! There was something up with my account, wasn't able to login until now (due to some miracle), and now I'm able to post all pending chapters.

It's a little too late but Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! Here's the last chapter! M for a reason, teehee!

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Rose had been incandescently happy since she began dating Harry, and started to giggle maniacally to herself whenever the term 'Harry's girlfriend' came to mind. They had learned many things about each other – the most surprising fact about Harry that Rose had discovered was that, contrary to popular belief, Harry does not style his hair at all, he was born with untameable hair and there was nothing he could do about it. She had then confessed that it was nice and that she always thought Harry looked like he just shagged someone into the after-life. Harry had turned to her with wide eyes before throwing his head back in uproarious laughter. She was pleased to have caused such mirthful laughter.

Harry on the other hand, found out that despite being in Slytherin, Rose had an unusual capacity for kindness, gentleness and was rather emotional. He watched with a small smile as Rose eyed puppies and other animals whenever they pass by the pet shop with watery eyes. He didn't even stop her quest that one day when she heard mewling coming from a drain nearby. She had forsaken the usefulness of her wand, jumped in straight and picked up the kitten before bringing it to a pet shelter, giving it up with reluctance.

She had resorted to pinching herself many a time not being able to believe her luck, that someone like Harry could ever want a hippopotamus like her. Alas, the world became more treacherous with their own ideas of beauty and flat tyres were nowhere near as attractive as high cheekbones and collarbones ("Do I even have those?" Rose found herself thinking one day).

Rose had given up the idea of dieting, staring at the mirror for long, and found that the extra time she had not fretting over herself were used better in simply being.

She almost thought that she was finally and totally comfortable being in her own skin – save for the times where intimacy was involved. Oh, there was nothing wrong in that department at all. Of course, there were the occasional – well, frequent – rendezvous with Harry, heated snoggings and quick gropes when nobody was looking but that wasn't enough to relieve the obvious tension (so strong and hard you could cut it with a knife, Blaise had said once) between Rose and Harry.

Harry was a gentlemen, bless him, he never pressured her into anything. He would just simply nod in understanding whenever Rose's hands shot out to stop the motion of his hands and kissed her lingeringly. He never said anything or brought the topic up and at times Rose felt relieved … though these days, she started to worry that maybe Harry was getting frustrated and that his patience was wearing thin only he refused to show it. Hell, Rose was frustrated herself but she couldn't muster the courage to expose so much of herself to the intense scrutiny of those vivid emerald eyes.

What if Harry expected a mind-blowing body beneath those robes, and that when he saw the real thing, it would not compare to the one he sees in his dreams? What if … what if …

She began to over-think things like she usually did, think it to death and see what happens, and even thought about dieting all over again just for Harry, but she was sure Harry nor Blaise would appreciate that. After all, Harry had said, "You are fine the way you are to me."

Just the memory of that conversation made Rose gleeful and so giddy it made her feel like launching herself into cloud-nine or into Harry's arms and ravish him silly but then she knew she would never be so daring as to just rip her own clothes and stand in front of him in her naked, colossal glory.

"Want to drop by Honeyduke's?" Harry had squeezed her hand, and breaking her from her musings and back to the present time where she was currently on a Hogsmeade date with Harry.
"Of course," she grinned.

Great. More sweets, more sugar, more fat! God, this isn't going anywhere! I will always be fat and Harry wouldn't want me and –

"You okay?" Harry turned to look at her, eyes filled with concern.
"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," she squeezed his hand in return before they both entered Honeyduke's.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Merlin knows how long they were in there for, trying sweets and buying more – Rose was sure Harry was on a mission to get her on a sugar high.

Harry was so adamant in making her try all his favourites that by the time they were finished, they were the only ones left in the shop.

And it was snowing – really heavily outside … with strong winds from the looks of it.

Rose was beginning to think of ways she could make it back to the castle without rolling her way into it and embarrassing herself, until the owner of Honeyduke's came out from the counter to peer out the window with them.

"Looks like you two won't make it back to the castle at this rate – snow's pretty heavy, you see. It's dangerous," the nice old man said to Rose and Harry.
"So, what do we do now?" Rose asked.
"Well there's an inn just opposite here, why don't you two stay over and wait until the weather's cleared out before making it back to the castle? I'm sure your professors would understand," he nodded.
Rose blushed and gulped, glancing at Harry. Harry looked serious, but Rose didn't miss the glance he sent her way.

Spend a night at the inn together?

"What do you think?" Harry asked.
"I'm fine with anything," Rose said, swallowing her nervous tone and replacing it with a calm one.

Well, at least I wouldn't be rolling back to the castle. And I would spend the night curled around Harry … with Harry's warm body … wrapped around mine –

"Oh, shit," Rose hissed.
"What's wrong?" Harry turned to her.
"Oh, n-nothing, just that the snow just got heavier," she covered smoothly.

Harry glanced out the window and nodded, but it was as if he wasn't even concentrating on the snow.

"Well, you both best get yourselves to the inn in front before you get snowed in and I don't think you'd be comfortable spending the night on these floors surrounded by sweets," the owner had said.

A couple of months ago, Rose would have said that that was her only fantasy. But at the moment, wherever Harry was that was where she would happily be.

"Let's go?" Harry asked.
She nodded and grabbed his hand before muttering her thanks to the owner and running past the open door with Harry.

She was greeted with biting cold wind and almost knee-length snow. She would have toppled over trying to catch up with Harry and turned herself into a living Popsicle if it weren't for Harry's steadying hand.

Maybe Harry would prefer a Rose-flavoured Popsicle?

Before she started to complain that the journey to just opposite Honeyduke's was like climbing Everest, they stumbled into a nice, cosy building warmed by the burning fire in the fireplace.

"Hello, dears!" the innkeeper had greeted them warmly, "Putting up for the night?"
"Yes, please," Harry said, brushing snow off his coat and Rose's as well.
"Well lucky for you lovebirds we have only one room available!" she chirped, clapping her hands – oblivious to the fact that Rose and Harry were students from Hogwarts.

"Umm, brilliant. We'll take it," Harry said, fishing out Galleons from his pocket.
"Well, if you will sign here," she pointed out to a piece of parchment and opened the drawer to reveal just one key, "You may find your room just after taking the stairs up."

"Thank you," Rose managed, trying to blame her nervousness on the almost-gone chill of the weather.

The innkeeper smiled at them before they both made their way up the stairs, both adamant on not catching each other's eyes.

They both entered the room, peeking quietly before moving inside completely. The room was surrounded by red velvet curtains and there was a quaint, made and inviting queen-sized bed perched in the middle, with a bedside table and a lamp which lit dimly, making the whole room seem … romantic.

Rose blushed furiously and she shut the door.

"Looks cosy," Harry grinned before dumping himself onto the bed, arms behind his head as he shut his eyes and grinned leisurely, reminding Rose of a cat.

Rose found his grin contagious and she leaned against the wall timidly, hands cushioning her bum. Her mind was entirely blank at the moment, and the only other thing she was aware of was the heavy thudding of her heart against her chest.

She watched Harry as he made himself comfortable. As if he knew he had eyes on him, Harry's own opened and he looked at Rose. He got up and sat at the edge of the bed, smiling widely. He beckoned her to come closer.

"Come here," he said softly, holding out his hands. Rose, without any hesitance, moved forward and took his hands, allowing herself to be pulled close to Harry.

"Hi," Harry said, once she was standing in between Harry's legs.
"Hi," she answered, pushing his hair away from his forehead with her hand. She then proceeded to unwind the scarf from Harry's neck and threw it against an armchair, and began unbuttoning Harry's winter jacket.

Where is all this courage coming from?! shrieked her brain. Rose idly ignored it while she watched her fingers work the buttons. Her fingers were shaking, though she wasn't sure if it was from the chill anymore.

Harry's jacket joined his scarf on the chair and before she thought furiously about what or where to unbutton first, Harry caught her hands with his. He brought them to rest gently by her sides before his hands went up to take their turn at unwinding her scarf. Rose watched Harry's face, watched as his face was set in calm concentration as he threw her scarf aside and began working on her jacket.

Soon enough, they were only dressed in their normal, cottony clothes and exchanging small, flittering kisses. Harry – Rose did not know how he managed it, but he did – pulled her straight into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist before claiming her lips once more. They kissed leisurely, with no haste, just tongues dancing with each other languidly.

Rose knew what was about to happen, and the knowledge of that turned her brain into over-fried scrambled eggs that she gripped the edges of Harry's t-shirt so hard she could have ripped it open.

The alter-ego in Rose screamed in delight at the prospect of ripping everything off Harry.

Harry pulled away and chuckled, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she breathed, still gripping the edges of his shirt mercilessly until it crumpled terribly.
Harry looked down towards where her fingers were gripping and looked up back at her before raising his arms above his head. Rose took it as a signal to remove his t-shirt.

So she did, revealing golden skin and broad shoulders and Quidditch-honed stomach. She almost groaned at the sight if she was not so focused in wondering what to do next.

She felt fingers steal underneath her blouse, and felt Harry's warm fingers stroke the sides of her waist soothingly and it sent tingles down her spine.

One of his hands moved to rest fully and completely on her lower back underneath her blouse as he pressed his lips against hers again and she swore she felt the warmth of his hand heat up every nerve ending of her body like an electric circuit.

She drew in a long breath and pulled away from Harry's lips.

"Rose?" Harry asked, looking vulnerable without his glasses. Rose wondered idly where and when it fell off.
"I just," she traced his nose with her index finger and blushed furiously, "I just don't know if -"

She was scared of course. Not scared of being with Harry – but scared of exposing herself completely. What if Harry didn't want her after? And like her earlier musings, what if Harry felt that she did not meet his expectations?

Harry smiled.
But it was a sad sort of smile. Understanding, patient, yet sad. Very Harry. It nearly broke Rose's heart.

"I, I just," she tried, eyes beginning to water.
"It's okay, love," he kissed her lips chastely, "We don't have to do anything."

With that, the warmth of Harry's hands and fingers were gone and he brought his arms back to her shoulders and squeezed gently.

"Harry, I -"
"Shh, it's alright, Rosie," he grinned, "Whenever you're ready. Why don't you go do your … whatever womanly duties you have before bed. I think we'll have to head out early in the morning."

Rose took that as a dismissal and began disentangling herself from Harry, before walking slowly to the bathroom feeling like world's biggest ass.

She quietly shut and locked the door, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

Silly, silly Rose! You want this, don't you?!

Of course I do want this, I want this more than anything in my life, the other voice in her head retorted waspishly.

She glared resolutely at her reflection in her mirror.

So why don't you just grab it and take it instead of feeling sorry for yourself all the time. Harry wants you just the way you are, why can't you accept the way you are?

She brushed her teeth almost angrily and washed her face almost as angrily before she towelled everything off.

Rose began to remove her jeans and socks and dumped them at the counter. She spared a few moments glaring some more at herself. Daring herself, challenging herself.

She walked towards the door and opened it, and her eyes landed on Harry who was spread-eagle on the bed, still shirtless, brows furrowed in concentration as he read a brochure provided by the inn. She smiled affectionately.

The affection, within seconds, turned into fierce determination.

"Harry?" she called out, walking towards the foot of the bed.
"Rosie?" he answered, placing the brochure back into its rightful place before looking up.

At any other time, Rose would have laughed at Harry's reaction at seeing her. He immediately sat up on his elbows, wide-eyed and mouth agape at the sight of Rose opposite him, clad only in her green shirt-blouse and only her underthings.

"Looks like I'm ready," she grinned sheepishly as she fiddled with the edges of her blouse.

Harry didn't move, nor did he say anything. He was just plastered there, jaw still slack.

Rose took that as an indicator to continue, so she brought her hands to the buttons of her blouse and began unbuttoning slowly, worrying her lower lip – feeling like she might spontaneously combust under Harry's steady gaze. Harry still didn't do or say anything and it felt as if everything else held their breaths, watching Rose closely until she reached the last of the button.

She shrugged one end of her blouse off slowly, casting a quick glance at Harry, who looked like he might stay there forever.

Ah, fuck it. Her inner voice threw caution to the wind and shrugged the other end off before finally dropping to the floor in a pool around her ankles.

That's half of the progress done.

She stood there, her every bump, crevice and imperfections and flat tyres and cellulites and probably every other unattractive thing she could think of to distract herself from the very fact that Harry could see everything and she was doing nothing to hide it. Suddenly, she found her toenails very fascinating.

She heard a faint rustle of movement ahead of her, and she glanced up.

Harry was in a sitting position already, and she felt her face flame at the pure admiration and desire she could see reflected in those pools of green.

"I knew it," he whispered, almost like he was saying it to himself.
"What?" Rose harrumphed, unable to hide the panic in her voice as she braced herself for every single bad thing that he could possibly say now.

"You're beautiful," he said reverently. Never once had he looked away from her.

"O-oh, thanks, I, umm," she began awkwardly, and she supposed she should really get on to removing the bra and panties now …

"No!" Harry yelled all of a sudden, effectively stopping Rose's hands from unclasping the bra strap behind.

Can't be THAT bad, can it?

Before Rose could shoot him a confused look, Harry scrambled forwards and grabbed both her hands, pulling her to the bed until she was kneeling on it, right in front of him.

"Let me do it," he whispered, before catching her lips with his again. Rose had no qualms about it as his hands began tracing every curve and every nook and cranny of her body, making her feel as if they were in a furnace.

She felt his hands slide up her spine before meeting an obstruction, which was the bra – and Harry's hands deftly unhooked it and she felt it come loose. Harry then brought his hands back up to her shoulders, all the while still worshipping her lips with his, before sliding down her arms, bringing the straps down along with them. He caught it in one before throwing it to Merlin-knows-where, and brought one arm around her to manoeuvre her into a supine position on her back. Harry was now nestled comfortably between her legs, and he was tracing his fingertips on every inch of skin he came in contact with, and he began venturing lower, and lower … and lower … until he found the last bit of insolent clothing on Rose. He paused for a moment, and Rose squeezed his hands slightly in a silent bid to make him take it off.

He conceded, and hooked both his index fingers on the fabric before pulling them down her legs – also throwing it away to god-knows-where. Harry pulled away from her lips and sat back on his haunches, as if to admire his handiwork.

Rose was fully exposed and blushing furiously at the moment, feeling her blush travel to her neck. Harry was watching her so intently that she reflexively brought a hand to cover her burning face, but Harry grabbed it and gently brought it to the side of her head.

"Don't," he cooed, "Let me see all of you."
Rose swallowed audibly and groaned, "Well, are you quite done? I'm getting really embarrassed here."
"Don't need to be," he almost-whispered again, tracing his index finger from her chest down to her navel, "So very beautiful."

"When do I get my turn to see all of you?" Rose countered, to which Harry replied with a cheeky grin.
"Very soon," he said, lowering himself unto her again.

Harry, Rose decided, was an absolute fucking tease. She didn't know how long he meant his 'very soon' to be, or how long she had to endure such sweet torture from Harry's lips and hands before she cried out in frustration.

He had kissed and licked every part he could get his hands and lips on – her neck, her jaw, her chest, her stomach, her thighs, her ankles – and Rose almost kicked him in the head for what he was doing to her but decided against it, and resorted to growling instead, with her eyes teary with vexation.

Harry kissed her stray tear away, but Rose only responded by dragging her nails down his arms.

"Harry, please," she said breathlessly.
"Please what, baby?" He whispered – and Rose could feel his grin - while tracing her jaw with his nose.
"Please," she groaned, lifting her hips to meet his and was rewarded with a muffled sound from Harry's throat.

That seemed to spur Harry on, and they made quick work of his trousers – only stopping because Rose insisted he wanted to 'look at all of him' before he was positioned at her entrance.

If it had hurt, Rose wouldn't have noticed – she was too lost, too lost in the sensation, too lost in the knowledge of what they were doing, too lost in Harry.

Once he was fully sheathed in her, Rose felt his muscles in his shoulders and back quiver under her hands, in an effort to keep still.
"If it hurts," Harry said, lips grazing hers whenever they formed words, "tell me, and I'll stop."
Rose arched into him as he began to move, wrapping her legs tighter around Harry to keep him locked in place.

"No," she gasped, "Never stop."

That night, they were wrapped in each other's arms, even in post-coital bliss and when sleep began to take over them.

Rose was tracing Harry's nose with her finger again, making Harry's eyes flutter close every now and then, he was dangerously close to falling asleep.

"Rosie," Harry whispered, eyes opening to gaze at hers.
"Darling?" she responded.
"I love you," he grinned his Harry-grin.
"I love you too," she smiled as she began to trace his nose and eyebrows, watching as Harry fell into deep slumber.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

HARRY POTTER DISCUSSES LIFE, LOVE AND WORK

… was thinking of joining the Aurors, it's what I've always wanted to do," said Potter.

When asked about his love life though, Potter seemed adamant on keeping quiet, shaking his head, laughing and brushing it off with a nonchalant, 'that's private!'. While our poor interviewer begged to at least answer one question, which was "Name two things that you love the most in this world", Potter finally relented. At this time, he glanced behind us, at his other half who was perched with his friends at their weekly Sunday gathering, chattering away with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. He smiled affectionately at her before turning his gaze back to our interviewer, and responded with a, "Her big, umm, heart and treacle tarts."

FIN!

Thank you for the read and the lovely reviews!

And to those well-endowed women out there, you know who you are – whatever happens and whatever anyone says, remember this: you are beautiful and amazing just the way you are. Don't let anything or anyone sway that.

"To all the girls that think you're fat because you're not a size zero, you're the beautiful one, its society who's ugly." – Marilyn Monroe

Be happy, be merry. Life's too short to fret about these things!

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Credits to Si Abang Tipah for accompanying me through the love scene-writing, God knows how giggly I get when writing such scenes. Xx. :3