Life Goes On

Chapter 1

He woke up slightly groggy, hearing Hedwig's soft hooting as she slept made him feel more comfortable and most importantly, safe.

He rolled over on his left side and the person he saw lying next to him made him smile. He was happy to know that after all these years fighting Voldemort, he would eventually become happy. Happiness was the only reward he received and would ever ask for.

He slowly slinked his way out of bed and went to stand in front of the long mirror. He stood there for a short while looking at the reflection of a young boy who defeated Voldemort for the first time twenty three years ago, then brought him back thirteen years later, then defeated him and killed him nine years later. He slowly examined the image of himself. He was once a short and scrawny lad, but now he had grown to 6ft 1 and got some muscles to go with the look. He was not as "developed" as a wrestler but he surely looked fine with his mild tan. His dark hair, as usual, stood on end and his green eyes shone as brightly as ever. Harry couldn't believe how far he had come as a person and how lucky he was, after all everything was luck, wasn't it....?

He crept back to his side of the bed to lie down with his love. The motions of the mattress made her stir. She moved over to face Harry and opened her eyes sharply.

"Is anything wrong?" She asked him quietly, almost a whisper.

"No, I was just thinking," he began but she cut him off.

"About what?"

"Voldemort's defeat."

"Oh," she sighed deeply. She knew sometimes when Harry thought about Voldemort, it would shake his foundation. It was still hard for him to grasp reality, but she would help him.

"Hermione, what happens now, my life was based on the sole purpose to be rid of Voldemort and now he is gone, what will I do?"

Hermione noted the raw expression in his eyes. His eyes gave away his despair and all she wanted to do was reach out to him, connect their minds so that he could see that she knew everything would be just fine.

"Are you dead yet?"

"No."

"Well then your purpose isn't finished, there is a lot more work for you to do Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled at Hermione. He remembered when graduating from Hogwarts, she had offered to live somewhere with him, anywhere, as long as he was with someone he could trust, excluding the Dursleys of course. He had looked at her and got lost in the rich dark chocolate colour of her eyes.

"Harry, you need to be with someone who you can fight Voldemort with, someone you can trust. Dumbledore can't protect you forever, you are of age Harry. Let us get a flat somewhere and go live there as room mates."

"Hermione," Harry started but was cut off by Hermione.

"I don't care what you say, you need to get a place to live."

"Hermione, I was going to say 'yes'." He smiled at the astonished look on her face.

"Good, I couldn't stand being apart from you......."

Ron had moved to Ireland on Ministry business with Percy. Harry chuckled to himself when he realized that Ron was working in the same department as Percy and to add salt to the wound, Percy was Ron's boss.

"Harry!"

"Uh, sorry, what were you saying?"

"I said you have work to do in this lifetime, your jobs aren't finished."

Harry grinned at her, "You always make me feel better Hermione."

She winked at him then chuckled. She moved closer to him and snuggled in the hollow of his shoulder with her arm wrapped around his waste.

Hermione has really blossomed, Harry thought. The memory was still fresh when they attacked the mountain troll in the Girl's Bathroom. Now, his Hermione was a woman. The most gorgeous woman he ever set his eyes on. Her hair was long to her waist, dark brown and now tamed with age. She was average height for a woman and was slim. Harry always thought her beauty was an added bonus. He fell in love with her thirst for knowledge and brains. Normally men ran from women when the women showed hints of higher IQ's. Not Harry. He could match Hermione's level any day. She was also modest and the kindest person he knew. He loved her so much!

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'Yours faithfully,

Draco Malfoy'

Draco looked down at the parchment and smiled with satisfaction at his handy work. Ginny will love this, he thought. He flicked a long lock of hair that was blocking his vision, out of his face. Draco looked older, mature and aged. He no longer had that "pretty boy" look. Draco was a man. A man who had seen much, been through much, heard much and wanted to forget all. He was a tall man like Potter, with a lean and muscular look. He was writing Ginny to see if she wanted to go to the new Greek restaurant just around the corner from himself. He pushed the chair back with loud scrapes and went to his eagle owl perched on the windowsill.

"Here, send this to Ginny Weasley."

The owl gave a sharp hoot and turned its back on Draco.

"Look you frowsy owl," he began menacingly, "you get this to Ginny or I'll rip your beak off, you'll have no ways of eating you ungrateful sorry owl!"

The owl stuck out a foot and Draco tied the letter to its foot and took off into the night.