LAST CHAPTER!

Post Script

I am officially freaking out.

Today's Christmas Eve and Harry and I have a date. Where? I don't know. So I have no idea if I'm supposed to dress up, dress warm or what. This infuriates me.

I moved back home when Harry and Scarlett's divorce was finalized. Scarlett wasn't about to give up without a fight, but after Harry threatened to annul their marriage, she relented. It was either be 'former Mrs. Harry Potter' or be the laughingstock of the wizarding world as 'the never was.' She, naturally, chose to be the once was instead of never was.

The divorce was quick, being as Harry's lawyers were wonderful about it and very quick when it came to the actual proceedings. They had the papers on Scarlett's doorstep before she even stepped foot in England. They also set up so Harry could transfer money to us until I moved back.

It was May when I moved into the flat across the hall from Harry's. Evan was just learning to walk, so I spent more time at Harry's flat than in my own. Evan took to Harry faster than I thought he would and Harry was absolutely thrilled to have him around. We spent afternoons taking him various places and nights at home watching him bumble around the room. I never imagined life could be this great.

Harry and I have been seriously dating for three months now, and we were on and off for a couple of months, and now I don't know what we're doing anymore. Sure, we have dinner and breakfast and I practically live at his place, but he's made no move suggesting that there might be something more to it. I've dropped hints, but he's never acted on any of them. Once again, that infuriates me.

Hermione keeps telling me to just be patient. We've only been 'officially together' since May. She can say that all she wants because she's married. And pregnant. When she and Ron got back they found out and now she thinks she's the expert on relationships. If she's the expert on relationships, I'm the expert on pregnancy.

She's been over every day this week complaining about how swollen her feet are, how hard morning sickness is, how her back hurts, how the cravings are interrupting her sleep patterns. I swear if I had been this annoying when I was pregnant Lacie would have killed me. I just tell her that this is little pain compared to labor and that's when she starts asking me what labor is like. Then I have to tell her that I had a C-section and hadn't been in labor too long before that. Then she starts flipping out and I have to calm her down by saying getting all emotional like that is how I went into labor. Then she shuts up.

It's not that I don't love her, it's that she has everything I want. It's not like I want to take it away from her or anything, but I want that. The stability and romance, I want that. And it seems Harry isn't interested. And if he is, he's going about it the hard way.

Speaking of perfect marriages, Angelina, Penny and Katie are all pregnant. Bill just married Fleur, and Charlie announced he was bringing someone home for Christmas. When Mum asked whom he was bringing, he refused to tell us, but when I got home I called Lacie and she started stammering when I asked her if she knew. I think it's her. He stayed in Maine after helping me move all my stuff and I think they hit it off. It'll be great to see her again.

Now, back to the clothing crisis…

I'm just going to wear the black dress. It's nice, and if the occasion is more casual, I can transfigure it into a pair of pants or something. The dress is beautiful, and it's actually Lacie's. I stole it from her, and since she hasn't said anything, I'll keep it.

So, I fixed my makeup, put my hair up in a twist and put the dress on. I love the way it looks, so long and flowy-ish. I heard a soft pop from behind me, and I saw Harry in the mirror.

He was all dressed up in a black tux with a dark green shirt. His tie was bright red, and it had a little sprig of holly sewn on. "Hi," he said softly, looking me over. I blushed under his gaze, but he offered me his arm and we walked into my living room.

Evan was at Mum's for the night, him being her first grandchild and she wanting to spoil him rotten was probably stuffing him full of cookies and sweets. Just what I didn't want her to do.

Harry led me outside to a car parked on the curb. The snow was falling softly, and he opened my door for me before running to the other side. He started up the car and we began driving.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my curiosity finally winning over.

"Somewhere nice," Harry responded vaguely, reaching for my hand. He kissed it. "You'll love this place, I promise."

We drove for about fifteen more minutes before Harry parked in front of a small restaurant. He turned to me and smiled. "We're here."

He got out, opened my door and led me inside. The place was virtually empty except for two waiters. One took my coat, and the other pulled out my chair. Harry ordered a bottle of wine, and we looked over the menu. "What did you do?" I asked, looking around. "Reserve the whole place?"

He shook his head. "I actually had to pay to get the chef and two waiters to come in. They're usually closed now."

"Harry, you didn't have to do this."

"Yes I did. Now shut up and enjoy it."

I scowled playfully at him and he stuck his tongue out at me before the waiter came with our wine and we placed our orders. He ordered a steak and I ordered Alfredo. "So," he asked after the waiter disappeared behind the swinging door that led to the kitchen. "What do you think?"

"I love it," I replied, looking around. The room was decorated to look like Italy, and a fountain bubbled in the middle. I stood and walked over to it. I looked back, and Harry was looking at me confused. I winked and kicked off my shoes. I hitched up my skirt and put my foot in the fountain.

The slivery water was warm, and as my foot touched the bottom, I gasped. The stone was freezing. "It's a magical fountain," Harry whispered in my ear. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me into the rest. "The water's warm, but the stone around it's cold. The people in France designed it so the water wouldn't freeze their skin, but on hot days they could stick their feet in and relax."

I kicked some water up at him. "Ever been to France?" I asked, doing a little jig in the water.

"Nope."

I kicked some more water at him. "Ever want to go?"

He wiped the water off his face and looked me over. The bottom of my skirt was wet, despite the fact I was holding it high enough that it revealed the bottom of my thighs. "I'll go with you."

I stepped up onto the outer rim on the fountain and looked down at him. "Really? And just when would we go?"

He reached up and carefully hoisted me down. I dropped my skirt and looked up at him. "We'd go for our honeymoon," he responded, his lips getting closer to mine.

Just before he kissed me, the food arrived. He dropped his head to my shoulder and kissed my neck. "Let's eat," he whispered in my ear. He took my hand and we sat at the table.

We ate in silence, and the events that unfolded before kept playing through my head. Our honeymoon? Does that mean what I think it means?

We finished eating, me first being as my plate was less full than his, and after Harry tipped the waiters and chef, he led me outside. Instead of going to the car, he led me down the street to a park.

The trees were covered in ice, the pond frozen over and snow was everywhere. The flakes drifted lazily to the ground as we walked along the path. I slipped my arm in his and we continued our little stroll. The moon's rays illuminated the trees and reflected off the snow, making everything look surreal.

"I had something I wanted to ask you," Harry murmured in my ear. His breath caused puffs of steam in the freezing night air and he suddenly stopped walking.

I couldn't speak. He got down on one knee and looked up at me expectantly. "Gin," he said softly, taking my hand. "I know we haven't been dating long, but you're everything I've ever wanted in a woman, I was just too blind and stupid to see it earlier. I want you in my life," he paused for, what I'm assuming, was dramatic effect. I stopped breathing. "Will you marry me?"

Something struck me a little funny about this picture. "Harry," I said gently, squeezing his hand. "Get up off your knee. I don't want to be sewing patches in your pants as the first thing I do as 'future Mrs. Harry Potter.'"

He looked confused for a moment before getting up. "Was there a yes somewhere in that order?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes you dolt. And if you want me to scream it I will."

He slipped the ring on my finger and smiled. "I'd like to see that."

I inhaled deeply. "I JUST SAID YES TO HARRY POTTER! I'M GOING TO MARRY HIM!" I screamed.

Harry started blushing and in order to shut me up, he kissed me. When he broke it off, he kept his forehead against mine. "I think that's good enough."

"Really? I don't think China heard me." Just as I was about to shout it again, he kissed me again.

I didn't bother to try shouting again. I was too preoccupied by the fact that there was a ring on my finger and one Harry Potter kissing me. I guess I finally got what I wanted.