Circle's Close

By December, a descending chill floated over the Hogwarts castle, reminding every last student that Christmas was well on its way, and so were end-of-term exams. Over the bubble of excitement that usually came during this time of the year, conversations of Hogsmeade and returning home for the holidays could be heard all over the castle.

These events, these conversations were at the very bottom of Hermione's list, as far as worries were concerned. Presently, she was more concerned with her boyfriend, or rather, more concerned for herself, considering the circumstances.

"Harry! Will you please tell me what is going on?!" exclaimed Hermione.

Harry was slowly leading forward a few feet at a time, while standing directly behind her, his hands covering her eyes, obscuring her view completely.

He gave a light chuckle. "Trust me," he told her for the hundredth time.

Her body relaxed ever so slightly, and Harry continued to direct her in her blindfolded state.

Hermione took deep breaths and concentrated. She did trust Harry, and consciously knew that Harry would never deliberately put her in danger. She also knew the school as well as anyone else, maybe even better, considering her wild history with breaking rules, and roaming the halls after hours throughout all the years with Ron and Harry. So she used this assured knowledge to trace where he was planning to take her.

A few moments ago Harry had urgently steered her from the Gryffindor common room, "blindfolded" her and began to lead her down a seemingly deserted corridor. They had turned left and headed down another corridor, this one not so long.

Now he was leading her down a series of staircases. She waited for that to end, and then realized that they were on the main floor.

"We're almost there," she heard Harry whisper from behind her.

She nodded as best as she could, desperately trying to calm her thumping heart, and waited for Harry's surprise to unfold. According to Hermione's swift mind, they were in the Entrance Hall. She could hear voices echoing from the Great Hall. Harry whispered an incantation and a burst of light flooded the hall. Even Hermione could see the bright light, seeping through Harry's fingers.

A sudden chill overwhelmed her, and she automatically wrapped her arms around herself. They just had to be outside. That's where the burst of light must have come from, she thought.

"OK," Harry said to her, and released his hold on her.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and took in the sight before her. She giggled with delight, taking in the spectacular view.

"Oh, Harry!"

It was white. Everywhere. Snow covered the grounds, the forest; and looking behind her, Hermione observed that Hogwarts was covered, too. Hagrid's hut looked like a gingerbread house in the distance, covered in a thick sheet of icing sugar. Hermione was vividly reminded of Heaven on earth.

"It's amazing!" she squealed, tossing her arms about Harry and hugging him with amazing strength.

Harry laughed, returning the embrace, and suddenly Ginny, Ron and Leah stepped into the Hall, as if waiting for a cue from Harry.

"You'll need these, hon," Ginny said, holding out Hermione's winter cloak, scarf, and mittens.

The others were all swathed in their own winter clothes. Ron handed Harry his own winter clothes.

"Come on! We haven't got all day!" Ron said with mock exasperation.

Hermione laughed and slipped on her winter cloak, shaking with excitement. Her outfit complete, they all headed outside and found that many other students were taking advantage of this glorious winter day. Some were creating snow angels, others were building snowmen, and Hermione could swear that she just saw a bewitched snowball hurtling across the grounds towards an unsuspecting 4th year.

As Head Girl she would normally have to punish the poor soul who found it in his heart to misuse his or her magical knowledge. But Hermione couldn't find it in her heart to do so. This was the first snowfall of the year, after all.

"I'm so pathetic!" Hermione exclaimed, with a slight pout. "I always miss the first snowfall."

Harry laughed and hugged her close.

"You're not lame. You just study a lot. There's no shame in that. And besides, it's not like you're missing out on the snow. We'll make sure of that," Harry assured her, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Exactly what do you mean by that?" Hermione wondered. There was a slight giggle from behind her, and Hermione sensed, rather than heard, a snowball being whipped at her.

She dodged just in time and the snowball sailed past her, instead hitting poor Seamus, who was lazily constructing a snowball of his own to hurl at Dean. He spun around sharply, seeking the perpetrator. His steely gaze focused on Hermione and Harry, and a slow grin crept along his face.

"WAR!" he shouted.

*

The five Gryffindors, soaked, out of breath, laughing and freezing, headed up to their common room hours later, eager to divest themselves of their outer wear. They all changed into comfortable clothes and then gathered in front of the roaring, inviting fire, their sole purpose to warm themselves up.

Hermione sat with Leah and Ginny, teaching them how to use a Drying Charm on their hair. Harry and Ron talked in low voices about the upcoming holidays, which put a smile on everyone's face. Everyone except...

"Hey, Leah!" Ginny exclaimed, as though just dawning on a thought. "What are you doing for Christmas?" she asked.

All eyes zoomed on the usually perky brunette, who now looked like she wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and live there forever.

"Staying here, at Hogwarts," she told them, avoiding their sympathetic looks. She began to concentrate on a piece of fluff from her sweater.

"Here!?" Ginny gasped, absently pulling her hair into a long ponytail. "Why?"

"Well..." Leah said slowly, "My parents are visiting my grandmother for the holidays, and well, personally, I don't really like her." She fidgeted a little, as though uncomfortable with the subject.

She looked at them then, a determined glint in her eye.

"I don't mind, honest. I love Hogwarts."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment of the fact, not sure what to say, but knowing that he at least agreed with her. From day one he had always considered Hogwarts his home. He couldn't so easily forget the longing he had felt for the school, when he spent he summers with the Durselys.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny said, looking at Leah in a new light. "You should come home with us," she told her.

Hermione and Harry exchanged looks, surprised by Ginny's boldness.

"Mum would just love to have you. And Harry and Siri...er...Professor Black... live right across the road from us! And our brothers are coming home, you can meet them, too! And Hermione will be coming to stay with Harry. Please say yes," Ginny pleaded.

"Your parents don't mind that you're staying with Harry...with little to none parental units?" Leah asked with a sly grin.

Hermione waved a hand in dismissal. "They trust me," she said, with a knowing glance in Harry's direction.

Harry smiled in return, and discreetly turned his head away before his friends could start badgering him.

Leah gave a nervous laugh, and Harry sensed that more than anything she wanted to accept Ginny's proposal. But then Leah glanced at Ron, who at this point looked completely out of the zone. His blue eyes were focused intently on the glowing fireplace.

Ginny caught this as well, and nudged her brother as discreetly as possible.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You'd like her to be there, wouldn't you, Ron?" asked Ginny.

Harry had to hold in a laugh as he witnessed his best friend's face turn from his usual freckled, to a bright, beet red.

"Sure I would!" he insisted, blushing even deeper now. "It'll be great, having everyone together. Come home with us, Leah," he said, his face returning to its normal color, his bravery turning up a notch.

Leah looked from one face to the next, seeking encouragement. Finally, she turned to Ginny and Ron and nodded enthusiastically.

*

"Exactly where do you think you're going?"

Harry paused in the middle of the Gryffindor common room and turned towards the sofa where the voice addressing him came from.

Hermione's head popped up and she propped her knees onto the sofa so she could face him properly.

"Hey," he greeted softly, stepping towards her.

"Hey, yourself. Going outside?" she asked, her brows creased in curiosity.

Harry looked down at his left arm, which carried his winter cloak. Then he looked outside, then back at Hermione with extreme longing.

"I'd give anything to be here, with you, in front of that glorious fire, love," he said, and then heaved a depressed sigh. "But I have something I need to take care of first."

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask what, or why, but she didn't say anything in regards to his late night excursion. It was as though she understood his reasons, whatever they were, and she was confident that he would explain everything to her later.

Harry stepped closer to her and ran a hand through her soft, chestnut hair. She smiled and reached her own hand up, lacing her fingers through his.

"I'll be here when you get back," she told him. "Just don't be too long."

He nodded and kissed her warmly, tasting strawberries and whipped cream.

Then he shrugged on his cloak and made his way from the common room, to the Entrance Hall, then he pushed through the wide oak doors and made his way through the snow that crunched softly beneath his feet.

It wasn't extremely late, so there was no need for Harry to bring his Invisibility Cloak, and the fact that he was Head Boy gave him some leeway, so if a Professor ever spotted him, he wasn't obligated to explain his whereabouts to them. More often than not, he just told them he was scouring the perimeter for students who shouldn't be lurking about. It worked like a charm every time.

Turning a sharp left around the bend of the castle, Harry saw a dark figure emerged from the creepy shadows.

How fitting, thought Harry cynically. He took a deep breath and exhaled softly.

"I'm here, just as I promised," he said, as Draco Malfoy's face became visible under the light of the moon.

"I'm surprised," Malfoy said, bringing himself closer, in turn making Harry edgier. "And I don't surprise easily," he added.

"I hope there's a good reason why I'm here, in the cold, when I could be inside," Harry answered indifferently.

"Let's walk," Malfoy simply suggested, moving past him. He strode a few steps, and Harry decided that moving under the minor moonlight was better than lurking in the shadows. Shoving his hands deep into his cloak pockets, he took step beside the Slytherin.

"Have you taken my advice?" Malfoy asked with a suddenness that multiplied Harry's uneasiness.

Harry delved deep into his own mind, trying to find the words that wouldn't startle Malfoy, and at the same time wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing that he had caused some worry in him.

"There has been very little to worry about, Malfoy. How do you expect me to accept your advice when you won't even tell me what the hell the predictions mean?"

Not good, Harry thought, knowing that his voice betrayed some of his deepest concerns.

Apparently Malfoy sensed it too.

"I can't tell you, Potter. I don't know anything about them either. But they've been sent to you for a reason."

"What reason?" Harry asked, straining for patience.

Malfoy paused, and looked Harry straight in the eyes, not unkindly and not with scorn, but with a look of desperation. Desperation for what? For Harry to accept him? For Harry to believe him?

"Maybe it's because of who you are..." he replied, trailing off for dramatic effect.

Harry shivered against the chill that swept over him, wondering if the cold was due to the December weather, or due to Malfoy's implications.

"They're stupid predictions," Harry insisted, wanting nothing more than to believe his own words. "They're not even predictions...they're just the aftermath of a bad night's sleep."

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy chuckled softly as he shook his head.

"Do you really believe that, Potter?" he asked, as a smile slowly crept along his face.

Harry felt as though his mind was crashing. Lately, more and more, he found it difficult to decide what he believed, and whether he still believed in what he always thought he had. Was this a part of growing up? Of maturing?

Draco Malfoy had been his enemy since their first day at Hogwarts. Harry found that it wasn't as easy as he anticipated, trying to look at Malfoy in a new light. Even if it was for Ginny. The old Malfoy, the new Draco, they would always be the same person.

So maybe it was that reason alone that made him resist the nagging in his gut, in his mind, in his heart, and give in to the Malfoy that stood before him. Could he really accept the fact that Malfoy wanted to help him? Was he trying to redeem himself for all those rotten years that now lay behind them?

Because, in truth, Harry feared over the predictions. What could they mean? And how would they play out? These predictions were far too sinister for even Harry to ignore, which at this point, would be the preferable choice.

In short, Malfoy wanted to help, and in short, Harry realized that he would probably need his help, regardless of the past. Harry would need to get past all the anger and hate he had once felt towards Malfoy if, in fact, Malfoy was there to help.

This is some trick, Harry thought wildly, searching for any excuse to turn Malfoy away. A depressing, ironic trick.

"Well?" Malfoy pressed.

Harry looked at him, not having to look down or up, because they were generally the same height.

"I don't know what to believe," Harry told him, deciding that the truth was better than anything else.

"It's a start. My question now is, can you trust me?"

Harry laughed in spite of himself. Trust a Malfoy? There had been a day when he wouldn't trust a Malfoy if his life depended on it. Now...

Now the closest thing he had to a sister was Ginny Weasley, and now Ginny was dating Draco Malfoy. The tables had turned on Harry, and he realized that this wasn't just a test on what kind of a Wizard he would turn out to be, but what kind of man he would turn out to be.

"Trust is a funny thing, Malfoy. For you, it's something you'll have to earn," Harry told him, silently praying he was doing the right thing.

"I suppose it's a lot better than where I used to stand," Malfoy replied. "And I suppose I have Ginny to thank for that."

Harry's head snapped sharply at that.

"What? You mean...you...knew? You know that I know?"

"It was my suggestion that she tell you, Potter," Malfoy said, and heaved a soft sigh. "Ginny's unhappy," he told him.

Harry frowned, but realized that Malfoy needed to say what he had been holding in for a while.

"She hates keeping our relationship a secret. So do I, for that matter, but she cares about her family..."

"Whereas you don't care for your own?" asked Harry, a little too sharply.

Malfoy focused his gray eyes on Harry, and for the first time ever, Harry actually felt...sad for him. He shook himself, firmly reminding himself not to feel sorry for a Malfoy.

"My parents never cared about me," he replied shortly. "Not the way Ginny's family cares about her. She feels like she's betraying them, betraying her friends, betraying you. It's been eating away at her. I want nothing more than to take away her pain. I want to make her happy, Harry. I want her to want to be with me with no regrets, do you see?"

Harry started, slightly in awe, but mostly in bewilderment. Malfoy had just referred to him as Harry. Was that just a slip up? Or was this Malfoy's way of...keeping the peace?

He returned his thoughts to the topic on hand, and thought back to the night when Ginny had confessed about her and Draco. Happy? Hell, he had never seen her so happy in all his life.

"She is happy. And she loves you, and she's doing what she feels is necessary. Just as you are," Harry told him. "But what do you mean, it was your suggestion?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"You're as close to Ginny as any of her brothers. The difference is you're not her brother, not by blood, anyway. She needed someone she could tell, confide in, without the fear of losing everyone that she loves. You...you're different, Potter. You care about her, and see things from perspectives that her family and close friends would never be able to. Understand?" Malfoy asked.

Harry nodded, comprehending. It made perfect sense for Ginny to confide in him, but what didn't make sense was-

"Why did you suggest me, Malfoy? Tell me the truth," Harry said.

An odd smile tugged at the corners of Malfoy's mouth, and he nodded.

"My selfish motive...you're smarter than you let on," he said and laughed softly. "I want you to trust me. I..." Malfoy hesitated, unsure of how to approach him with what he wanted to say.

"I love Ginny," Malfoy insisted in a tone that threw Harry off. "More than I ever thought possible, more than anyone will ever know. Her fiery nature, her desire to make everyone around her happy, her "take nothing from anyone" approach. She's everything in a girl I hadn't realized I wanted. And now I want to be a better person for her, a person she can walk around proudly with. A person that she can bring to her family reunions, where, no doubt, you will be. I want her to see that I can ditch the past, and past feelings, and past enemies. I want her to love me as much as I love her."

Harry felt like he had just been hit with the Stunning Curse. He felt moved by Malfoy's words, touched, and he felt a warmth towards him, mainly because a part of him realized that Ginny was in good hands.

Maybe Malfoy deserved a chance after all, Harry pondered shortly. For Ginny's sake?

"These belong to you," Harry said, reaching into his robes, searching.

He pulled out Colin's pictures and handed them over to Malfoy, who looked at him with furrowed brows.

"They're yours. Yours and Ginny's. You ought to be more careful," Harry warned him, nodding to the pictures.

Malfoy looked down at the small stack and began flipping through all the photographs that Harry had come across weeks beforehand.

"I know you love her," Harry continued. "Anyone with two eyes can plainly see that. I know she loves you, too. I think...I think she wanted to tell me because of Hermione and me. A part of her knows that I would understand, because I'm in love, too."

Malfoy gave a smile that was reminiscent of the ones in the photographs, and Harry was left wondering which Malfoy was the more arrogant; the rival of the past, or the friend of the future?

Time will tell, Harry thought, and Malfoy's true colors will surely shine through.

*

There were still a few nights left before the holidays, and the atmosphere of the castle was welcoming, if not warming. Christmas was, without a doubt, Harry's favorite holiday. He remembered a time, long ago, when he didn't have a single favorite day. Living with the Dursleys did that to a person.

Night had settled, and the castle was silent, yet buzzing with that same yearning and excitement of holidays to come. Harry, restless, pulled himself from his room to check up on the students.

Hermione had told him earlier that she would be in the library checking up on information that she would need for her report for the next term. Harry chuckled softly. Hermione, however different she may be now from the day he met her, would always be the same bookworm he had grown to love. And he had to remind himself that he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey, Harry!" Kevin, his Quidditch teammate, greeted as Harry made his way to the common room.

"Oh, hey, Kevin. Have you seen Ron anywhere?" Harry asked him.

"Oh sure," replied the 5th year Gryffindor. "I just saw him heading outside."

Harry nodded his thanks and made his way outside to find the youngest male of the Weasleys.

He marched his way through the snow, shivering only slightly because he hadn't brought any outside-wear. He wouldn't be able to stay out very long.

He saw Ron then, at the Quidditch Pitch, flying on his broom.

"Late night practice?" Harry wondered. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Ron wasn't alone. Leah York sat in front of Ron on the broom, nuzzled securely in his arms. They both seemed completely oblivious to Harry. They were very high up, and still at a great distance. But Harry could see them plain as day.

He felt guilty watching such a display of affection, but more than guilty, he felt a tugging at his heart that had nothing to do with guilt or embarrassment.

Harry loved Hermione so much it hurt sometimes. He loved everything about her. He loved every aspect of their relationship, friendship, their past and their present, and God willing, their future. But still, after all of that, Harry could still feel a little envious. Not resentful, not jealous, just...envious. And not enough envy to actually affect him. But it was enough to keep him glued to his spot, and watch Ron as he nuzzled Leah even closer.

Hermione would never get on a broom with him if her life depended on it.

Well, Harry thought, maybe if her life depended on it, he corrected himself.

Flying was such a major part of his life. Sometimes he felt like he was born to do it. It hurt to think that he couldn't even share such an exciting part of his life with the woman that he knew he was destined to be with. She would never know what it was like. She would never care to know, and that hurt more than anything.

Still, he couldn't hold it against her. She had a fear of flying. That wasn't her fault, it wasn't his fault. It was just another cruel, ironic twist to his life. He and Hermione had plenty of other stuff to do, right? Who needed flying...right?

Harry looked back up at Ron and Leah, yearning tugging at his heart, knowing that he would never hold Hermione on a broom, just as Ron was holding Leah.

"I hope you know just how lucky you are," Harry breathed upwards. He turned and headed back to the Castle, wanting nothing more at that moment than to see Hermione, and tell her just how much he loved her.

*

"You're freezing," Hermione gushed, bombarding Harry midway to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry laughed, hugging Hermione closer. "Then warm me up, silly," he purred into her ear.

Hermione laughed with him, giving him a teasing wink.

"What do you think we'll be doing during the holidays? Silly..." she said.

Harry's laugh increased. "Oh, so that's how it is..."

"Yes, that's exactly how it is. Come on, we'll get you upstairs and in bed," she told him urgently.

"I thought we were waiting until we got home," Harry said, with a grin that melted Hermione to the core.

She slapped him playfully.

"You're going to bed. I'm going to tuck you in, got it?"

Harry gave her a disappointed pout, and she laughed again.

They made their way through the portrait hole, and found that there were a few students scattered all around, still edgy over the end-of-term exams, and desperately excited for the holidays to begin.

Without a word to the students, Hermione led Harry up to his private chamber, closing the door behind them. Muttering a lazy "Incendio," Hermione directed Harry further into his room as the lamps flickered to life.

Without hesitating, Hermione rushed into Harry's arms and hugged him with all the strength she possessed. In the dim lighting, her lips found his and they remained that way for a while.

"I can not wait until we get home," Hermione panted, pulling away slightly.

Harry nodded in agreement. It had been months since summer, the last time they were able to make love.

"Crawl into bed with me," urged Harry, pulling down the covers.

Hermione grinned and nodded, jumping into the bed with him. Once they were tucked in, Harry wrapped her spoon fashion, her back facing his front, her legs curled neatly into his, his powerful arms wrapped around her front.

They lay there for a time, concentrating on the silence of the room, broken only by their own steady heartbeats.

"You seem distracted," Hermione said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

Harry thought back to the Quidditch Pitch, Ron with Leah, and shook himself of the image.

"I'm fine. How about you?" he asked.

Hermione sounded like she didn't want to let the topic go, but knew that if it were serious, he would tell her.

"I'm great," she replied.

Silence fell again, and for a while they both reveled in it. Then Hermione spoke again, this time a little more tentatively.

"Harry?"

"Mmm?" Harry opened his eyes, only to find that he was staring at the back of Hermione's head, and instead tightened his hold on her a little, a light squeeze to show that he was listening.

"What's your goal in life?" she asked him.

Harry's grip lessened, and Hermione turned slowly to face him.

"My goal?" he asked, and felt his face growing hot. He hoped that Hermione wouldn't notice his face growing red, even in the dimness of the room.

"Yeah, your goal. Your biggest accomplishment. What do you want to be in the future?" she elaborated, not taking notice of Harry's embarrassment.

Harry stared at her, not sure what to tell her, not even sure what happened to his voice. He felt his throat constricting, felt his heart hit rock bottom. His hands were suddenly clammy, and he wondered why he was reacting this way.

Instead of answering her straight away, he stood up, out of his bed, and started pacing the room like an expectant father.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, suddenly concerned. She had never seen him act this way.

Then Hermione realized that she had asked a question that was deeply personal. But she loved him, and he loved her, so there should be no need for the secrecy.

Either way, she couldn't take back the question, so she just waited for him to answer her.

"Harry?" she asked again. She stood up and went to him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him to look into her eyes.

"You can tell me. I won't laugh," she promised.

Laugh? Harry shuddered involuntarily, praying that laughing was the last thing Hermione would do.

But could he tell her?

Yes, because he loved her. She loved him, too. Love makes the world go round, Harry reminded himself. Love.

"I...I want to..."

He sounded like a child. But Hermione was looking at him with wide brown eyes, urging him to tell her. In the end, she would understand. She always did.

"I want to be a father," he blurted out.

Hermione's mouth dropped, and he instantly regretted telling her. But there was no turning back. Now it was his turn to wait for her.

Hermione's head whirled at a fantastic speed. A father! She had never expected that, never in a million years!

Harry Potter was destined for greatness, everyone knew that. She had expected his answer to be a simple one. Like an Auror or something. But a father...

She felt the heat rising to her face, her eyes burning with the coming of tears. She suddenly felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas. She could feel her heart multiply three times its size, ready to burst with the amount of love that she felt for the man in front of her.

The love overwhelmed her, warming her like a cup of hot chocolate.

The tears fell, and Harry looked at her with that puzzled look pasted to his face.

"A father, Harry?" she whispered, and wiped foolishly away at the tears, which only caused more to fall. She started to sob, and Harry reacted instantly, pulling her into the comfort of his arms.

He sighed, and felt no reason to lie, or to take it all back.

"Yes," he whispered back, "a father," he repeated. "The kind of father my dad could have been...should have been..."

He found it odd that he had never told her that before. Why not? They had been best friends for ages. Why couldn't he have told her such a secret years ago? He had always dreamed one day of being the father that his Uncle never was to him. He wanted to be every thing that was denied to him. A real, loving parent.

Hermione was shaking in his arms, sobs wracking her body, until finally, there was nothing more than a mere hiccup coming from her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her worriedly, wondering what he had said that had made her react this way.

"I'm OK," she told him, and smiled to reassure him.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Don't take it back, please, don't take it back," she pleaded, her eyes growing moist again.

"Take what back?" he asked her.

"You wanting to be a father...I don't want you to take back that statement...because..."

"Because?" Harry pressed.

"I've always wanted a family, Harry," Hermione confessed, her heart swelling. "It's always been a part of my dream to have a large family."

This time Harry's mouth dropped.

"I've always been an only child, and...I take a look at the Weasleys and I feel so...envious towards them, you know? I mean, not towards them, but towards the idea of such a large family. They'll always have each other, and me? I love my parents, that's true. But it was so lonely growing up, and I don't want that for my children," Hermione told him.

Harry's heart burst with happiness. He lifted her into his arms and swung her around the room, feeling he had to expose his happiness somehow. She giggled loudly in response, holding fast to him. He set her down, and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I've always wanted a large family. And for the same reasons. Oh, I love you, Hermione. I love you so much," he said, kissing her deeply.

Hermione giggled and sobbed into the kiss, and they withdrew, looking at each other, not shyly anymore, but with a love that had multiplied tenfold.

The future was a touchy subject, they both knew, for muggles and wizards. A couple in love discussing the future was tough because there was no certainty that the other party would have the same outlook, or the same vision for the future.

But when Harry looked at Hermione, and saw her looking at him, he knew, deep in his heart, that the promise of their future would be the ties that bonded their love forever.

To Be Continued...