Only Time

To Marie – our French consultant, and to each and every one of you reviewers and H/H shipmates.You all inspired us and made us very proud of our work, and we are grateful for it.

Special dedication: In loving memory of our friend Tamar, a brilliant athletic talent tragically taken from us. We know you would have enjoyed plotting with us, Tami, so this one is for you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Place Des Vosges, Paris
December 26^th, 2005
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“You were right,” Ron said enthusiastically. “This really is a special place!”

It was the only square Ron had ever seen which was actually shaped like one. Old brick buildings surrounded a small area of green, and since it was relatively warm, the area was buzzing with activity. Many people were sitting on the grass or benches, some reading, some basking in the afternoon sun; others occupied the numerous restaurants, shops, art galleries and bookstores that were spread around the square.

Sandrinne inched closer, holding tightly onto his hand. “I told you it was nice,” she replied, smiling in satisfaction. “I like to come here when the weather is fine and just sit and enjoy the view, read a book, think about life…”

“My, are we being sentimental all of a sudden,” Ron teased her.

“Hey, don’t make fun of me, Weasley!” She nudged him with her shoulder and Ron couldn’t help but laugh at her casual use of his last name; she probably picked it up it from Harry sometime during the day.

“Besides,” she continued, “this place is all about knowledge and intellect -- it used to be the gathering place of many writers and philosophers. Look over there,” she motioned her head and pointed to one of the buildings that created the square. “ That was Victor Hugo’s house; there were many famous others who lived in this square, so I ask for a little respect, please.”

“I sure respect the beauty of it,” he answered, checking out his surroundings. Now that she mentioned it, the people that were sitting around the square really seemed like they were into the atmosphere of the place.

They strolled around the lovely square for a while, then headed towards Sandrinne’s apartment, which was only a few streets away. Ron decided to walk her home; even though they were having dinner together that very evening, he was not ready to bid her goodbye just yet. Smiling to himself, he tried to come up with an original activity for them to do after dinner.

“Voila!” Sandrinne announced, cutting off his reverie.

They stopped at the entrance to a typical Parisian five-story building, and Sandrinne quickly punched some numbers into the intercom unit. “Are you coming up?” she asked as the heavy steel door opened with a low buzzing sound.

“I’d love to! I’ve always wondered what these attic-like flats looked like from the inside,” Ron said excitedly, following her into the foyer.  “I won’t stay long, though,” he commented between heavy breaths as they made their way to the top floor. “I’ll let you get ready for dinner – heard you were going out with some charming British bloke…”

“Oh, ferme-là!” Sandrinne giggled, pulling on his hand so he had no choice but to keep up with her quick climbing pace.

“Don’t tell me to shut it! And besides,” he panted,  “it’s not fair -- you climb this every day! Have mercy…”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

After he was given the royal  -- albeit short – tour of Sandrinne’s small apartment and properly kissed her goodbye, Ron made his way back to his hotel; he checked the time, happily noting that dinner was only an hour away.

Sandrinne didn’t say where she was taking him, but he was sure it would be someplace fantastic. Aside from being the only girl to ever steal his heart within a few short days, she was also a wonderful hostess and tour guide, who truly wanted her guests to have the best time and see the most interesting places.

Even though he tried to concentrate on the positive issues of his holiday, Ron’s thoughts drifted to more serious matters; he had the future to think about – the very close future anyway. As all holidays go, this one was going to be over soon, and he had to decide whether he wanted to pursue a relationship with Sandrinne; with a start, he realized that he did. He wanted to see where this road was going to lead them – providing she wanted to as well. Right there and then he decided to follow his heart and stay in Paris for a few more days. Going home that night as he originally planned suddenly seemed like running away from something before he fully explored it – as well as breaking the promise he made to himself right after he patched things up with Harry and Hermione the night he arrived. He vowed to let go of his pain, to let go of the memories and just enjoy his life.

“Now who’s being sentimental?” Ron scolded himself. “Just go with the flow, Weasley…go with the flow…” he mumbled as he reached the hotel and entered his room, throwing his clothes in disarray on the way to the adjoining bathroom.

As he quickly showered and dressed for dinner, he thought of Harry and Hermione, curious about how they were doing.

“Harry, you hopeless romantic,” he smiled, shaking his head, “I hope you pull it off…”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hermione was silent as they strolled around the Latin Quarter, which had become a familiar environment in the past few days. Wherever Harry had planned to take her tonight, it wasn’t anywhere around here; she could tell by the look on his face that this was just a distraction.

Harry glanced at his watch; it was still too early, and Philippe would not be ready yet. This worried him a bit, because he sensed Hermione was getting restless – probably due to her curiosity as to the nature of his secret plan. He made some quick calculations in his mind, concluding that if they walked all the way over and maybe made a short stop along the way, they would be right on time.

“Are you up for some walking?” He asked softly, hoping against hope she wouldn’t prefer to take the Metro.

“It’s nice out, so I guess it’s okay,” she shrugged, looking at him curiously. “But just how much walking would you define as ‘some’?”

“About an hour of easy strolling,” he said, checking his watch again. “Is that all right with you, my love?”

“I promised I’d go with you wherever you took me -- no questions asked,” she reminded him.

“I know…but we’re a bit ahead of schedule, so I thought we could walk around for a while.”

“Lead the way!” Hermione said, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

Harry slipped his hand around the back of her neck, catching her before she pulled away; greediness took over as he leaned down, claiming her lips in a much more thorough kiss than the one she offered.

“Other side of the river…” he managed when they finally parted.

Hermione nodded and tugged on his hand, turning in the direction of the bridge that led across the Seine.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Ron had a hard time keeping the smile off his face as he and Sandrinne rode the Metro back to her neighborhood. They had a lovely dinner at a small restaurant located in a quiet, residential, tourist-free area of Paris. The food was great, the atmosphere utterly romantic, and the company intriguing. Ron enjoyed the evening so much he totally forgot to tell her he had decided to stay; somehow he felt as if he needed to wait for the right moment to do that, and Sandrinne didn’t broach the subject at all, obviously not wanting to push him.

“I want to tell you something,” he said as the train reached their station and they stepped onto the platform.

“Oh?” she looked at him oddly, stopping in her tracks.

“Don’t worry – I don’t have any dark secrets,” he laughed. “I just wanted to say that I have decided to prolong my stay in Paris. I’m staying a few more days. With you.” His eyes locked into hers, anxiously awaiting her reaction. “If you want me to,” he added quickly.

“Of course I want you to stay, silly!” Sandrinne exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “No, correction: I would love for you to stay.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him excitedly.

“Whoa…” he breathed when she released him, “with a reaction like that, do you mind if I told you the news again?”

“I know I am repeating myself, ” she said, taking his hand and leading them through the tunnels of the Metro station, “but shut up, Weasley…”

“I know I am going to sound corny,” he countered, “but my place or yours?”

“Mine,” she replied. “If you don’t mind, that is. I want to host you in my apartment tonight.”

“Fine by me! It’ll sure be easier than getting you into the wizarding quarter. God knows how you got in that last time…”

“I told you, I h--”

“You have your ways,” he finished for her.

“Exactément!” she stated as they reached the main area of the station.

This time it was Ron who stopped abruptly, pulling her close and taking immediate possession of her lips. Sandrinne followed his lead, more than happy to let him take control; slipping her arms around his neck, she allowed herself to be swept into his kiss.

They remained entwined for a few sweet minutes, totally oblivious to their surroundings. Ron kissed her passionately, not caring about the fact that they were, in all likelihood, making a public spectacle of themselves, when Sandrinne’s apartment was only a short walk away. “Let them stare if they want to…” the small, functioning part of his brain decided; he was having way too much fun to care about decency right now.

A short moment later, however, he had no choice but to reach a different conclusion; his reaction to her nearness was impossible to ignore, and Ron realized that they really needed to get out of there if he didn’t want to embarrass himself way beyond a slight indiscretion.

“Sandrinne…” he pulled away, his eyes fluttering open “we should stop…it’s not -- ” The words died on his lips the moment he laid eyes on the now-familiar figure; the man was huddled in a far corner, calmly smoking a cigarette, his eyes unmistakably fixed on them.

“All right – that’s enough!” Ron cried. “I’m going over there,” he said determinately.

“What are you talking about?” Sandrinne asked, still a bit dazed from their kisses.

“HIM!” Ron exclaimed angrily, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around so she could see the man as well. “The him I told you guys about earlier; the same him who’s been to every part of Paris I have been to in the past few days. I’m putting a stop to this right now - it has gone too far!”

Between his enthusiasm and anger, Ron missed the wide-eyed expression on Sandrinne’s face and the startling rate at which the colour had drained from them. He gently moved her aside, intending to charge to the other side of the station.

“Wait,” she whispered almost inaudibly, grabbing his forearm. As her nails dug into his skin Ron looked down at her, finally noticing her reaction; his own face became somewhat pale as realization dawned on him.

“You know him?” he asked, fearing her answer but knowing what is was going to be.

She simply nodded, not taking her eyes off the man.

“You know him,” Ron repeated unbelievingly. As much as he was shocked to find out Sandrinne knew the ‘stalker’, he couldn’t help but release a small sigh of relief upon finding out that he wasn’t of interest to the mysterious stranger.

“He’s one of my bosses,” Sandrinne said quietly, removing her fingers from his arm and slipping them into his hand.

“But why would…” Ron started, but froze in mid-sentence. The man quickly approached them, throwing away his cigarette and stomping it with his shoe.

“I am disappointed in you, Mademoiselle,” he shook his head at Sandrinne, ignoring Ron. “Very disappointed.”

  *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

By the time Harry and Hermione reached Place de la Concorde it was late and dark; the area was almost deserted as most of the visitors were probably having dinner – a late dinner, as was customary among Parisians.

“How about we take a little ride and pass some more time?” Harry asked as they stood in front of the big Ferris wheel at the centre of the Square. “As I recall, you wanted to go up when we walked by here last night.”

“Yeah, I did want to go up, didn’t I?” Hermione replied, looking at the huge structure. “All right,” she decided. “You said we needed to keep ourselves busy for a little longer, so why not? Although it’s too quiet around here -- maybe it’s already closed for the night?”

“Let’s find out,” Harry pulled her after him and headed to the ticket counter. “Oh…” he said when they found it unoccupied, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. “ Looks like they’re done…I’m sorry.”

“We are just about to close,” a voice came from the nearby control booth as the operator poked his head out. “But I guess I can still have you two on board,” he decided, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“We appreciate it!” Hermione exclaimed. “ And we will only be a short while anyway…  there’s someplace we have to be,” she said importantly, sneaking a glance at Harry. “How much would two tickets be?”

“Since you are my last customers for today, it is on the house,” the man said with a smile. “In you go, then,” he gently ushered them towards the Ferris wheel.

They thanked him for the gesture, then opened the door to the carriage closest to the ground and climbed inside. Once they were seated and the door securely locked, they signaled the control operator and the Ferris wheel slowly started to move.

“Hermione, love, I think you can come sit next to me,” Harry said, amused by the fact she took a seat across from him - probably thinking they needed to keep the balance. “I believe this carriage is designed to hold up if two people sit on the same side,” he patted the empty space next to him.

“I guess so,” she smiled lightly, getting up and seating herself beside him.

“Just relax and enjoy the ride,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “Look out the window – the view of the city should be marvelous from up here.” He added, placing one of her legs across his thighs and stroking it reassuringly.

Hermione decided to take his advice and focused her attention on the view. “ You were right – it’s marvelous,” she said when they reached the highest point. “They knew exactly where to put this Ferris wheel!”

“Thought you’d like it,” Harry grinned, picking up her other leg and pulling her onto his lap.

“Are you sure about the balance thing?” she asked apprehensively, thinking she felt the carriage dip a little as their combined weight settled in one spot.

“Hermione…” he rolled his eyes, gently turning her head towards the window, “the view!”

“Right,” she said, snuggling against him. “The view...”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What do you mean, he’s one of your bosses? What interests do the bosses at the Paris municipal office have in following their employees around? Will you slow down, dammit!” Ron eventually raised his voice, frustrated she wasn’t answering.

After their strange encounter with the mystery man at the Metro station Sandrinne practically ran outside, pulling Ron after her. He assumed it was in the direction of her apartment, but had no way of knowing for sure since they were speeding through the unfamiliar streets.

The man did not grace them with his company for long; after he voiced his disappointment in Sandrinne they exchanged some words in French – which Ron could not understand despite his dedication to the language lessons he had been taking. Shortly after their heated exchange the man turned on his heel and left as suddenly as he had appeared.

“Please come up with me,” Sandrinne said the first words to him since they dashed out of the Metro station. Given the fact that she was almost pleading, there was no way he could refuse. Her hand trembled as she punched in the intercom code, and Ron’s heart cried out for her. Whatever trouble she was in, he hoped she trusted him enough to tell him about it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently removing her hand from the intercom and puling her into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere…I’m staying right here with you.”

“Thank you,” she sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye. She finally managed to get the code right and Ron pushed the door open, not letting go of her hand.

“I’ll make you some coffee,” he said once they were inside her apartment.

“No,” she shook her head, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the kitchen. “I don’t want any coffee. I just need to talk to you…please?”

Ron nodded, opening the buttons of her overcoat and helping her take it off. “I’m listening.”

Sandrinne threw herself on the bed and held out her hand for Ron to sit beside her. “Please understand that this is not something I could have told you but chose not to,” she began. “I was not given a choice whether or not to tell people about what I really do.”

“You mean you don’t really organize events and parades for the Department of Culture at the Paris municipal office?”

“Yes –But that is not all I do. I guess I can tell you a little - now that I’ve been caught,” she said thoughtfully.

“The Department of Culture is a cover?” he guessed.

“For some people  - yes. Some of the employees of the department work for the DGSE.”

Ron knew it was the French equivalent of the secret service. “You’re a sp…you work for the government!” he stated, opting not to use that word. “What did you do wrong to have earned your very own ‘shadow’?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound silly using ‘professional’ jargon he knew from Muggle films.

Sandrinne laughed quietly. “I’m not a spy like the one you are imagining,” she said, a trace of a smile finally gracing her face. “I don’t take part in field operations or meet mysterious contacts or anything. I just sit in an office and analyze information…it’s not that glamorous at all!”

“I assume you can’t tell me why they were having you followed?”

“I can tell you part of it,” she said, visibly relieved that he wasn’t going to storm out of her apartment. “I am taking part in an investigation that involves wizards, too. I can’t tell you any details, only that I had specific instructions not to get involved with anyone from the wizarding world.” She paused, looking at him like a guilty child. “I didn’t plan to…” she added quietly.

“Why weren’t you allowed to get involved with wizards?” Ron interjected. “Your sister is married to a wizard – are you telling me you couldn’t…?”

“No, Ron,” she cut him off, “I was not allowed to get involved with a wizard. I can associate with my family, of course…”

“Oh,” he said, a little embarrassed by his slowness, “you mean romantically involved. Perhaps they were afraid someone would try to get close to you because of what you know about this investigation?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she shrugged. “They do not give us reasons – just orders.”

“And you defied those orders,” he said, nodding in comprehension. “What will happen now? “ What did this boss of yours say to you? I must admit that he wasn’t being very professional talking to you in front of me.”

“Don’t worry,” she patted his arm, “ I'm sure he knows exactly how much French you do and no not understand. He didn’t really say anything that I didn’t already know. I will be taken off this particular case, face breach of security charges, and I don’t want to think about the rest…”

“I’m sure things will work out,” he did his best to sound reassuring even though he had no idea what he was talking about. “If they know everything then they should know I am not involved in any sinister activity.”

I hope so,” she said. “What you said may sound reasonable to me and you – but this organization doesn’t work that way.”

“Would you like me to go?” he suddenly realized he could be endangering her job even more by being there. “It could only make things worse if I stick around.”

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled, running her finger down his cheek. “I have already been caught…it doesn’t matter anymore. They know I will not give up my relationship with you”

“All right,” he said flatly.

Stay with me tonight…” she breathed, turning over so she was sprawled on top of him.

“All right,” he repeated as her soft lips landed on his, cutting off any remaining access he had to his vocabulary.

  *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sometime during their short ride on the Ferris wheel, Hermione was so taken with the view she relinquished her cozy seat in Harry’s lap and stood up to get a better look. She gasped every time they passed the high point, and Harry silently watched her, glad she was enjoying herself. She couldn’t have been more excited when during this round the Ferris wheel surprisingly came to a halt just as their carriage was at the very top.

“Come over here, Harry!” she cried, looking down at glistening lights of the city. “Look where we’ve stopped!” She was standing with her back to him, her face pressed against the window.

‘How about that…’ Harry thought, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart. ‘It’s now or never, Potter,’ he encouraged himself as he got up from the seat and stood behind her. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on her waist, gently turning her around to face him.

“The nicer view is in this direction,” she smiled, pointing at the window; her smile froze and her eyes widened in astonishment as he took one of her hands in his and slowly lowered himself to one knee.  He dipped his other hand into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small velvet box, flipping it open with his fingers; nestled inside was a delicate gold band with small diamonds sparkling on its rim.

Hermione’s heart rate skyrocketed and her mouth dried up. Sensing that she was nervous, Harry stroked the back of her hand with his thumb in an attempt to calm her, and she couldn’t believe he was doing that; he was supposed to be the one about to faint from excitement, yet his priority was to make sure she was okay.

“I had so many things I wanted to say to you at this moment,” his words came out breathlessly. “But my mind is totally blank now…the only thing that’s clear is you, my Hermione – it’s always been you. When I hold you in my arms, whenever we touch or kiss or make love, there is nothing in this world I want more than to be able to do all of those things every day for the rest of our lives…”

His eyes were locked with hers, and a lump rose in her throat at the intensity of the love and emotion reflected in their green depths; she felt he was looking straight into her soul.

“My love,” he continued, his voice reduced to a strangled whisper, “will you be mine forever?” 

For a moment there was total silence, as Hermione was in awe of what was happening and could not utter a word. Harry bit his lip and swallowed once before he breathed the next words.

“Marry me, my Hermione…”

It was an expression of his heart’s most deep, profound desire more than it was a question.

Hermione felt her knees buckle; her hand slipped out of his grasp and she sank down, taking his face in her hands. At that moment, she realized she was holding his heart as well, and she happily returned it to him.

“Yes…” she whispered, planting kisses wherever her lips landed. “ Yes, Harry, I’ll marry you…”

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. ‘This didn’t happen…’ his mind was refusing to believe. ‘This didn’t just happen,’ he repeated to himself ashis lips sought out hers, capturing them in a series of urgent, ecstatic kisses, as if wanting to prove to his unbelieving mind that this was real.

Their kisses rapidly intensified and Hermione pushed him backwards so he was sitting on the floor of the carriage, his back against the seat. She straddled his legs and sat down in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close, eventually breaking their kiss for some much needed air.

Harry sighed and fell against her, resting his head on her shoulder. His arms were looped around her waist, the ring still clasped in his right hand. For a long moment the only audible sounds were their sharp breaths and the soft ruffle of Hermione’s fingers in his hair, as they were both too emotionally overwhelmed to say anything; they simply held each other and let their bodies gently rock back and forth in rhythm with the swaying of the small carriage.

After a few minutes Harry lifted his head from her shoulder and she felt his lips place kisses on her face, then kiss their way down, leaving her skin heated and tingling in anticipation for more.

“You said yes…” he mumbled against her neck.

The incredulous tone of his statement caused her heart to tighten in her chest; she tilted his chin up and pressed her forehead to his, her tears falling on his cheeks and mixing with his own.

“Yes I did, Harry Potter,” she kissed him affirmably; he needed her assurance now, and she lovingly gave it to him. “I said yes, because nothing would make me happier than becoming your wife… and you know that I already am yours forever. I have always been.”

A blissful smile lit up Harry’s tear stricken face as he took her hand in his and slowly slid the ring on her finger. He kissed her softly, then let his lips wander to her neck again, and Hermione closed her eyes, groaning in satisfaction; she slipped one hand under his shirt to caress the warm skin of his back and felt him slightly quiver at her touch.

“I love you so much, my Hermione,” he whispered at her ear, and a shudder vibrated through her body as she felt the words rather than heard them.

“I love you too,” she mumbled dreamily as he kissed her. Hermione knew he needed to hear it and wanted to say more, but suddenly felt herself being thrust hard against his body when the Ferris wheel started moving again.

“Right on time!” Harry exclaimed, satisfied that he got exactly as much time as he asked for. With the way she was pressed against him and wriggling around in his lap, a few more minutes and they would have totally lost control.

Hermione shot him a quizzing look. “How did you manage to --?”

“I have friends in low places.”

“I bet you do,” she smiled and kissed him again. “So - fiancé,” she tried the word on for size, enjoying the feel of it, “what do you want to do now?”

“Haven’t planned that far! I was sure I’d die from excessive nervousness and never get off this Ferris wheel.”

A fresh stream of tears stung her eyes at this sweet, candid admission. “Harry, what…” She stopped in mid sentence, surprised to see him smile impishly. “You were kidding…” she acknowledged, a bit embarrassed for taking him seriously, but happy to admit that it was because her mind was too occupied with absolute bliss to notice Harry’s teasing.

“Of course I was! As if I don’t know what I want to do now…”

“And what might that be?”

He started to answer her just as the Ferris wheel came to a complete stop. Hermione quickly got to her feet and helped him up, opening the door of the carriage.

They stepped out and Harry shot a smile and a thumb’s up to Philippe, whose head was visible at the window of the operating booth. He signaled Harry to approach, and Hermione smiled as she realized the man in the booth, who just happened to let them aboard the Ferris wheel when there was nobody else around, was Harry’s accomplice.

Philippe welcomed them at the door. “I can see by your smiling faces that everything went as planned,” he said cheerfully.

“Oh yes!” Harry beamed, his face lighting up. “Philippe, meet my fiancée, Hermione Granger.”

“Enchante!” Philippe took her hand and chivalrously kissed the back of it. “ Pleased to meet you, and congratulations!”

“I hope you realize that you just took part in the world’s most romantic marriage proposal!” Hermione said, the smile never leaving her flushed face.

Philippe waved his hand. “It was nothing, really! All I did was push the stop button. It was the least I could do for such a nice young man, who obviously loves you very, very much.”

“A nice young man who’s also quite an actor!” she smiled at Harry, her eyes twinkling. “You really got me with the ‘disappointed-the-Ferris-wheel-was closed’ scene."

“That was the intention, my dear,” Harry smirked, then turned to Philippe. “Thank you so much,” he said, shaking his hand warmly.

“My pleasure. Now get out of here! You just got engaged – go be alone somewhere.”

Harry brought their clasped hands to his lips. “Shall we, my Hermione?” he asked, kissing her fingers softly.

She nodded in agreement, and after bidding Philippe a thankful goodbye, they stepped into the cool night air.

The walk back to their hotel went by in silence, as they were both taking their time to fully absorb what had just transpired.  Harry’s heart was light now that the weight of insecurity was lifted away; he turned his head and looked at his Hermione, noting the content expression on her face and wondering how he could have ever doubted she’d say yes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Do you think they have microphones hidden here?” Ron asked as he stretched languidly, offering his body some well-deserved rest.

“Probably,” she mumbled sleepily, placing soft kisses on his bare chest. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”

“Seriously, Sandrinne ” he said, stroking her hair, “You can lose your job over this…over us.”

“I know,” she lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “But I have a feeling that I won’t. You were right – they will eventually be convinced that you are a good wizard and that you want me only for my good looks and my charm…” she batted her eyelashes innocently and Ron smacked her with a pillow. “But until then they will probably give me a hard time for messing with their orders.”

“I need to ask you one more thing,” he became serious again. There was something that still didn’t fit with the rest of the pieces. “The first time I saw that man and suspected he was following me was on Christmas morning –before I went over to meet you. How’d he know…?”

“That would be my fault,” she said guiltily, burying her head in his shoulder. “After Christmas dinner at my sister’s house, when we shared that amazing kiss, I phoned a friend of mine and told her that I met a nice wizard and we will be spending the next day together. It was not very smart of me; they probably knew I was in risk of breaking the rules and listened to my cell phone.  So now they also know what a great kisser you are.”

“Yeah, that kiss really was amazing, wasn’t it?” Ron grinned. “But you knew you weren’t supposed to…”

“Ron Weasley, you git, don’t you get it? I was so taken with you that I didn’t care about the orders! All I knew was that I met someone that made me feel so…” she searched for the word, “well, it felt like we had something special,” she managed. “And at some points during these past few days I forgot the orders existed! I never planned for any of this to happen.”

“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “I came to Paris to patch things up with my friends, and found myself meeting someone…special,” he rolled them over and Sandrinne squealed in surprise when she found herself suddenly pinned underneath him. “You know, “he continued, framing her face between his hands, “I’m kind of happy that this stalker of yours had nothing to do with your ex; there was a point where I started to wonder if I was getting myself into something I’d be better off without.”

“I’d say you did get yourself into a messy situation…”

“Not as messy as it’s going to get,” he countered, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. “Yep,” he mumbled as he kissed her face, “very messy indeed…”

“At the risk of sounding like a broken record,” Sandrinne barely managed to get the words out, “shut it, Weasley…”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Was this the reason you were full of questions last night?” Hermione asked after they picked up their bags and were making their way towards a safe Apparation point. “When you mentioned our first night together and the first time we admitted our love,” she continued,  “was it because you needed reassurance before you proposed?” she stopped walking and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Did you ever doubt my love for you?”

Harry turned to face her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yes and no,” he said. “It’s not that I needed any reassurance that you loved me; fortunately, I am very much aware of that.”

“What, then?” she asked curiously.

“I’m not sure…I think it was about what I needed to say to you -- rather than what I needed to hear from you. It was important to me that you know you were the first – and only -- woman I have ever loved.”

Hermione fought back the tears that were about to rise in her throat; all she could do was nod and smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly she felt the breath being momentarily knocked out of his body.

“I had the dream again last night,” he said into her hair. “My parents… they knew I was going to ask you to marry me; they told me not to worry and that everything would be fine.”

“Harry…” she whispered against his neck, “I’m sure they are so proud of you…”

“I hope so,” he said softly, running his hand up and down her back.

“We’re getting married,” Hermione mumbled. “We are going to be husband and wife…” she said the words as if she still couldn’t believe she was referring to herself and Harry.

“Well, yes,” he laughed quietly. “I believe this is what you agreed to do just a short while ago.”

“I’m so happy,” her voice was choked. “So very happy!"

“I know you are, my Hermione; and I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am at this very moment.” He tilted her face up with one finger, and their lips met in a slow, sensual kiss that left them both gasping for air, desperately needing more of each other.

“God, Hermione,” he breathed just before claiming her lips again, “I want you so much…”

“Take me home, “ she managed between kisses, “and you can have me.”

“Home it is then,” Harry said, finally releasing her lips.

They reached the Apparation point and headed back home – to the beginning of the rest of their lives. Together.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Me and you, and you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice
it had to be
the only one for me is you
and you for me
so happy together…

* * * * *

Turtles, “So Happy Together.”

FIN