LUCY:

The fact that I'd never put much stock in Valentine's Day was no secret.

My first year, Jenna Gordon had given Cedric cookies spiked with a love potion. My second year, Ginny's little singing Valentine for Harry had been amusing, but that same night, our little group of four, the same group of us on the Camping Trip of Doom, had fractured under the weight of Tom Riddle's claim that Hagrid had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Valentine's Day had been uneventful my third year, but my fourth year, Maxence Auclair had — well, that Valentine's Day hadn't been quite as bad as he tried to make it, since Harry had come to my rescue, but what Max and Draco had done to me was still cruel. Our fifth year, Harry had attempted to spend the day with Cho Chang, but he'd rather mucked it up, and that wasn't even counting the fact that Ron and I both needed the Hospital Wing after a disastrous practice that same day. Sixth year had been the most enjoyable of all, I'd gotten to snog Harry in the Quidditch commentary box, but even then, I didn't care much about Valentine's Day itself.

And I didn't care about it on the Camping Trip of Doom, either. I hated Valentine's Day whether I had a Valentine or not, not that anyone other than said Valentine knew that I had one that year. Therefore, it was silly, really, the way that the approaching holiday sparked such interest in me. I knew I ought to be focusing on the task at hand — with one more Horcrux down and the Sword of Gryffindor in our possession, we dove into our continued hunt with renewed vigor that waned only slightly day by day — but I couldn't shake the thought of Valentine's Day and all of its mushy-gushy stupidity from my mind.

It had been so long, too long, since I'd gotten an uninterrupted moment alone with Harry. There were a couple of stolen minutes here and there, such as when one of us was relieving the other in the middle of the night when the watch rotated, but time alone had been impossible to come by since Ron's return. Not because of him, necessarily, but because of Hermione's tendency to suddenly need something from one or both of us whenever Ron tried to have a moment alone with her.

In any event, I was lovesick, well and truly. My body ached with the effort of stopping myself from just snogging him senseless every time he was in arm's-reach of me, and my mind was so addled with yearning I could barely focus. If anyone else noticed, surely they just blamed my rosy cheeks and wandering eyes on the approaching full moon, but three days after the full moon — Valentine's Day — I was out of excuses, and out of patience.

I'd never put much stock in Valentine's Day, but I was really hoping for something of a Valentine's Day miracle that year.

I had taken the last watch of the night, so I was awake and alone for the sunrise. In a valiant attempt to stop my mind from drifting, because I thought Valentine's Day was frivolous and there had never been a worse time for frivolity than in the thick of the Camping Trip of Doom, I reached into my rucksack for the orb. I just held it in my hands for a moment, not expecting a speedy reply by any means, but, to my surprise, it glowed orange right back.

Everything okay? Fred asked.

Yeah. Just bored and lonely keeping watch, I replied. How about you, are you okay? That was quick.

We were just about to reach out, actually.

George's purple greeted me next. So we know that you love Valentine's Day...

Dear Merlin, what have you done now? I tapped out.

If we told you to meet us in a place we all know, could you?

I considered this for a moment before replying. Best not, sorry. Why?

We can just drop it off, then. You can pick up our delivery at your convenience.

Care to explain what the delivery is so I don't mistake it for a trap?

Fred was the one who replied that time. Of course! Well, you see, we were all just thinking about you and Harry and Hermione and Ron and how there must be truly insufferable amounts of tension at all times, and we wanted to see what we could do to help.

Don't tell me you're trying to convince me to go out of my way to pick up love potions.

Close, but not quite. You know they were pulled from the shelves after what happened last year with Ron. We've developed a new formula, though, a better one.

Better how?

More consensual, for one, and more truthful, for two. We'll leave a note explaining everything in detail with the potions, should you decide to embark on a journey of love and discovery, but we think it would be worth your while.

I was silent for a long moment, contemplating. Hermione would never agree to apparate to whatever location they'd chosen just to retrieve silly potions when we were supposed to be, well, saving the world. And rightly so, it was ridiculous that I was even considering this, but if I could bend the truth a bit... somehow apparate us to the location and retrieve the potions in secret and pretend I'd forgotten they were in my rucksack but since it was Valentine's Day I thought it would be good to lighten the mood and try to alleviate the tension the twins had correctly guessed was interfering with our world-saving...

Are you there, Cub? George asked.

You know what, I'm in, I tapped out. You have to promise me that you will drop the potions off and leave, though. If the wrong person finds out that you've seen us, or have any idea where we are, it could go poorly, and I can't have that on my conscience, okay?

We promise. How about the woods in between our childhood homes? Archie remembers the place you apparated with him last summer, we can get as close as possible to that point.

I hesitated for only a second before I answered, my desperation winning out over my common sense. Okay. You have a couple hours to make the drop before I'll be there. I shook my head, smiling to myself. This had better be worth it, you buffoons.

You tell us, Fred replied, and I didn't need to hear his voice or see his face to understand the cheek in the statement.

Are you lot doing okay? I asked.

As okay as we can be, George confirmed. We lot are missing you lot, but as long as you're okay, we're okay.

As okay as we can be, I echoed.

There was a slight rustling in the tent behind me, so I tapped out one last quick message.

Someone's awake, I ought to go, but I love you.

I left the I miss you unspoken, and I tucked the orb away just as their I love you toos faded.

It was Hermione who joined me outside a couple minutes later, with a mug of coffee in each hand.

"It's just black, sorry," she said as she passed me the blue mug and kept the purple for herself. "I could have sworn that we had more sugar, but it's empty."

"It's okay. Thank you." I chugged the coffee like the tortuously bitter-tasting Muggle wideye potion that it was and set the mug aside. "How'd you sleep?"

"Well enough. How about you? Have you recovered from the moon?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

A not-uncomfortable silence descended then, as Hermione sipped her coffee and I turned the offer from the twins over in my mind. A more consensual, truthful Love Potion that carried with it the promise of easing the tension between the four of us — it was too promising to just dismiss, but I would have to use all of the persuasion and tact I possessed to get Hermione on board with something that sounded so silly and irrelevant. And it was complicated, a multi-step process beginning with apparating to the right place and then somehow finding the Love Potions, which were sure to be disguised, and then convincing Ron and Hermione to give us privacy so we could see what exactly the deal was with said Love Potions. It wasn't going to be easy, if it was even possible in the first place.

But fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the twins had given me an ace to play, should I be brave enough to play it.

I steadied myself with a deep breath, summoned all of the courage that had put me in Gryffindor in the first place, and decided that I was.

"Hermione?" I asked, my voice sounding smaller than intended.

Her voice was gentle, curious in response. "Yes?"

"I think I want to go home."

The word "home" on my tongue felt even more bitter than the lingering coffee. It was wrong, calling the Diggory estate home. Cedric and Tuck were as close to "home" as I ever felt there, but they were both gone, so there was no point in calling that haunted house a home anymore. But it was the best I could do.

"I was wondering when you would," Hermione replied softly. "I assumed it was only a matter of time, after Godric's Hollow, and after you visited the place you were bitten. But... Lucy, you have to keep in mind, Godric's Hollow was so awful, and word could have spread, Death Eaters or Snatchers could be waiting there, hoping you go back, and — "

"I know," I interrupted. "I'm sorry, I know it's — I know. It's not the best idea I've ever had. But we could — there could be something helpful there. Cedric's jumpers or more of his healing books, or potion ingredients from the garden, or even information about my mum's Auror training documents, or — or something. And maybe, I don't know, maybe they won't expect us to go there because of what happened in Godric's Hollow, and that's assuming they could even get past my mum's wards, those were remarkable — "

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Lucy?" Hermione pressed. "You look pale just thinking about it."

I nodded. "I think there's going to be something helpful there. And we don't have to go today, we could just go to the woods nearby overnight, and scout it out, keep an eye on it, make sure it's safe, and then maybe tomorrow we can go in there and just see what we can find, and — "

"The Lovegoods live nearby, don't they?"

I blinked. "Er — yes. Why?"

"I've been thinking we ought to pay Xenophilius Lovegood a visit, since he was wearing that symbol at the wedding that keeps cropping up everywhere. We can go to your house tomorrow, then theirs the next day, since they're all so close."

"Okay." I nodded. "Sounds good."

With Hermione convinced, I knew the boys would be an easy sell. Ron agreed with everything Hermione said those days, trying to get back in her good graces, and Harry, having just been to Godric's Hollow, was sure to be understanding of why I wanted to go back.

Ron, to my surprise, was awake first. He emerged from the tent only a couple of minutes later, whistling cheerfully.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Hermione sighed in response, but I offered him a small smile.

"I suppose. What makes you say that?"

"It's a holiday, isn't it?" Ron wedged himself in between Hermione and me. "Do you have any special plans for the day, Lucy? Of the Harry variety?"

I started to shake my head, then thought better of it and shrugged instead. "You know, usually I'd smack you for even suggesting it, but I suppose there's never been a better year for me to get over myself than this one, considering we could very well be dead by the next one."

"Well, that's morbid!" Ron replied with the same cheerfulness he'd had as he was whistling. "But I guess if the threat of imminent death is what it takes to finally get you two to figure this out — "

I groaned and buried my head against Ron's shoulder. "It's not just that."

He chuckled as he patted the side of my head. "There, there. Better late than never."

"It's just — " I lifted my head and propped my chin in my hands, trying to play the part of confused lovesick puppy as well as I could. "He's changed me back six times in a row now. That must mean something, right?"

"Certainly," Ron agreed. "Say, why don't we give you two a little alone time? I'm sure Hermione and I can find something to do a sufficient distance away from the tent for a few hours. A food run, maybe, seeing as we're out of sugar. What do you say, Hermione, you reckon we can find an excuse to give the lovebirds — "

"We're not lovebirds — "

" — a few hours to talk on Valentine's Day?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to say no, really she did, but she must have seen the desperation in my face, because she conceded with a sigh.

"Fine. We need fruit too. And more coffee."

With that, she downed the rest of her mug and marched back inside.

"That was surprisingly slick of you, you git," I muttered. "What do you have planned?"

Ron grinned. "Let's just say there's a reason I asked you to write down a copy of your carrot cake cookies for me. With any luck, you'll hear all about it from Hermione later. I've got big plans for today, and you should think about making a few big plans of your own."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said dismissively as I got to my feet and stretched my aching body. "You can keep watch while we get packed up. I was thinking we'd head to the woods near Ottery St. Catchpole. Food should be easy to come by there, without too much of a walk."

"'Without too much of a walk,' my ass, it'll be at least two hours there and back, you cheeky git!" Ron burst out, though the grin on his face had taken on a knowing quality.

"Hermione doesn't need to know that, does she?" I replied softly. "Neither does Harry. Happy Valentine's Day to us, Ron Weasley."

We exchanged a fist bump when I passed him on my way into the tent. Harry was just starting to stir, so I handed him his glasses and shimmied up to my bunk to toss a couple more items into my rucksack.

"So, I was thinking," I said as nonchalantly as possible, "I want to go home tomorrow."

"Okay," Harry replied. I couldn't see his face, since he was beneath me, but I could tell that he was trying to gauge how I felt about it, at least as best he could without seeing my face. "For business or pleasure?"

I snorted. "Very funny, Potter. Business. Merlin knows there's nothing pleasurable waiting for me there, unless you fancy the thought of all of the food surely rotting away in the pantry."

"What are you hoping to find?"

"At the very least? Potion ingredients. Maybe a couple more of Cedric's belongings with healing properties by virtue of being his."

"You reckon his pants have healing properties? They sure spent a lot of time with him."

I reached for my pillow and swung over the top of my bunk just to swat him with it, making us both laugh.

"I'm not going to find out if my brother's pants have healing properties, you git. I reckon more than just his jumpers do, though, so that could be worth investigating. And — " I swung back upright and hugged my pillow to my chest. "I don't know. You confronted your past in Godric's Hollow. I want to confront mine, too. Beyond just the Forest of Dean. That was... only part of it. You know?"

"I know," Harry replied softly. He crawled out of his bunk and got to his feet, and the git was so tall he was about level with me from where I was sitting on the top bunk. "You're sure about this?"

I nodded, because I knew that if I said anything aloud, the uncertainty would creep into my voice and give my apprehension away.

He understood the apprehension anyway, I could see it in his eyes, but he nodded back at me. "Okay. Sounds like a plan."

"We're going to scout it out today," Hermione piped up, "just to make sure there aren't any unpleasant surprises waiting for us in the surrounding area. Then, well, come tomorrow, we're following Lucy's lead."

"Sounds good!" Ron called from outside. "I'm in!"

"No one asked you," Hermione muttered in a voice so low only I could hear it as she returned to her packing.

A few minutes later, we were all packed up and ready to go. Everyone surrounded me, and I apparated the four of us to the same spot I'd apparated with Archie... Merlin, had it only been a few months ago?

I scanned the surrounding area for a telltale sign of Weasley twins activity.

"I'll do the wards, you lot can set up the tent," I said, wishing I'd asked the twins for more details about where exactly the delivery would be. "Cave inimicum. Protego totalum. Salvio hexia. Repello — "

There, sticking out of the thin layer of snow blanketing the forest floor, was a single red rose.

Rose. The one who had lured me into the same woods a lifetime ago.

I forced the thought from my mind and moved slowly through the rest of the wards, looking up and down and all around for whatever Fred and George had cooked up for me that time.

A small glimmer of light in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned just in time to watch a small box manifest beside the rose, silver and shiny almost to the point of blending in with the blinding white of the sun on the snow. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the others were inside before rushing forward to inspect the box. I realized that it was actually two boxes tied together, with two vials of the potion each.

There was a note on top in George's handwriting.

We enchanted this to only appear when no one was around but you. Good luck and have fun! We love you!

I shoved the note into my pocket and the boxes into my rucksack and, unable to help myself, spun in a couple of rapid circles, praying for just a glimpse of red hair, hoping that my favorite little rebels had defied me and lingered. Hoping that maybe they'd caught a glimpse of us before I'd erected the wards, hoping that maybe I'd catch a glimpse of them in return.

But they were gone. It was just me and the snow, and a tent in the distance.

I scrubbed at the tears that had inexplicably appeared and dripped down my face, then headed in the direction of said tent.

"There you are!" Ron said, still cheerful. "Mione and I are ready to go on the food run. The village is in that direction, right?"

He pointed very blatantly in the wrong direction, and I thought for a moment about correcting him, but I thought better of it and just nodded. "Yeah. It's not that long of a walk. You can't miss it."

Ron grinned knowingly, and I shifted the weight of my rucksack on my back before making a decision and setting it on the table.

"Before you go..." I cleared my throat and pretended to rustle through the contents of the rucksack before emerging with the silver boxes. "I almost forgot. The twins, they slipped a few sample products into my rucksack before we left, but this one... well, it's Valentine's Day. The instructions are written on the lid." I handed one box to Hermione and kept one for myself. "I thought it... I don't know. I thought it could be fun to do it today. I almost forgot about it, but today's as good a day for it as any. Just don't open it until the two of you are far enough away to be considered alone. It only works if two people are alone for a certain sight and sound radius."

"Alright," Hermione replied slowly as she pocketed the box.

As apprehensive as she looked, Ron looked positively giddy. "Great! Well, in that case, we will be on our way."

He reached for the enchanted picnic basket we'd started using for food runs and Hermione grabbed the invisibility cloak, and with that, they set off into the snow, in the wrong direction, and I was properly alone with Harry.

As soon as Hermione and Ron passed through the wards, I surged forward and grabbed Harry by the back of the neck, yanking him down to kiss me. In response, he scooped me up and set me on the counter, one hand gripping my leg as the other tugged my hair free of its ponytail. I melted as his fingers tangled in my hair, and he melted in response to my melting.

My hands desperately grabbed at him, at any part of him I could touch, because he was mine and I'd missed him. When my hands settled on his hips and pulled him ever closer, his hand on my leg moved to the small of my back and pressed me closer, closer, closer, closer, closer, never once breaking the kiss, not even for a second.

Our reverie was broken by the sound of something shattering, and I jumped to my feet and cast a shield spell before I realized it was just a mug that had fallen from the counter and crashed to the ground.

Harry exhaled shakily, tucking his wand away as we stared at the culprit. "I thought we were being attacked."

"Me too," I agreed, breathless. "Just a mug."

"Just a mug." Harry took another deep, shaky breath. "It's okay, Lu. You can drop the shield."

"Right."

The bright purple glow disappeared, leaving us in the candlelight, which seemed dimmer than it had before. I tried not to linger on the disappointment souring my stomach. I was alone with Harry for the first time in far too long. I wouldn't let a mug ruin that.

"Where were we?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

Harry offered me a tight but brave smile back, and he guided me by the hand out of the kitchen and to his bunk.

"Bunk beds are romantic," I teased.

"I'm not trying to be romantic," Harry replied, equally teasing. "I'm trying to get you to take a nap, you insomniac prat."

"Insufferable git." I pushed Harry down onto the bunk and crawled onto his lap, pressing my lips to his again, trying to reignite the fire that had possessed me just a minute prior. "I can't believe that worked. They're actually gone."

"Ron's been more or less scheming for today since he got back. He — Merlin, I love when you — ow! — yes, I'm okay, do it again — anyway, he knew Hermione would be cross with him for a long time unless he did something major, and he figured today was the day for it." Harry laid back on the bed and made a happy sound when I kissed him harder into the mattress. "With any luck, his big plan will work, and we'll get plenty more alone time."

"With any luck, my big plan will work," I said. "I've been scheming too, with a bit of unexpected help from the twins, of course. I wanted you all to myself — "

Harry rolled until I was underneath him, and he kissed me so hard his glasses smudged against my face. I tossed the frames onto the bedside table and buried my fingers in his messy hair. Time ebbed and flowed around us once again, and when we came up for air an unknown amount of time later, the candlelight seemed a little brighter again.

Harry curled up beside me, glasses back on his face, his fingers tracing lazy designs on my collarbones. "So what were you saying, about your big plan?"

"Those boxes. They have a new and improved love potion."

"You gave Ron a love potion?" Harry asked incredulously. "After everything last year — "

"It's not like that," I interrupted. "I promise."

"You're sure they're not expired? If they've been in your rucksack since summer and the one Romilda got for Christmas had already gone bad by Ron's birthday — "

"They're not expired, trust me," I assured Harry. I held a hand out and summoned the second box, then popped the lid to show Harry the instructions. "It's a totally new, totally different product. With any luck, Ron and Hermione will take it and realize they're heads over heels in love with each other and the tension around here will become far more bearable."

Harry's facial expression was difficult to read. Once he'd been silent for about five seconds too long, I ventured a guess.

"What's wrong? This product is completely safe, Harry, I promise. It won't be like last year, if they even take it in the first place."

"Can we do it?"

I blinked. "You want to do it?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"We're already together, you buffoon. Fred and George were just having a laugh with this. I'm pretty sure they invented it just because of the two of us. They're on the same mission to get us together as everyone else, but they don't know that we're already, well — "

"Can we, please?" Harry asked.

I nodded even as I felt my brow furrow in confusion. "Yeah, of course. Why do you want to do this so desperately? I was already planning on just telling Ron and Hermione that we didn't do it because we were too busy researching or something."

"I just want to make sure it's safe. After last year. It's still a love potion."

"It's a completely different formula, look, there's a list of ingredients on the package and everything — "

"Please?"

"Okay." I pushed myself to a sitting position and crossed my legs, and Harry followed suit. "There's more to this than just making sure it's safe, yes?"

Harry hesitated for a second before nodding.

"Do you want to talk about what exactly that is? You don't doubt me or something like that, right?"

"No, I don't doubt you at all, Lucy. I never would. I just — really want to do this with you."

"Okay."

I placed the box in between us and read the instructions aloud. "'Hello, potential lovebirds!' Well, that's one way to start this. 'In order to put your love to the test, you must both consume the potion at the same time. Any funny business will be punished with an explosion, and the experiment will end instantly. Once you've both consumed the potion, all you have to do is begin the session with the words 'How do you feel about me?' to activate the potion and make it through the next five minutes. You can ask any questions you want, as long as they're about the two of you. Then the next person can do the same. What happens after that is entirely up to you. Please see the list of ingredients, to ensure you are not allergic to any before consuming this product (and because one ingredient in particular should only be consumed with knowing consent).' That must be the veritaserum. Well, there's no dittany in here, so bottoms up, Potter."

I passed one vial to him and put the other between my own lips. The potion was silvery and sweet, but it hadn't activated yet.

"Do you want to go first, or should I?" I asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. "It's up to you."

"Okay." I smiled at my love. "How do you feel about me?"

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

HARRY:

"I love you," I said, plain and simple. "More than anything. More than anyone."

Lucy's smile grew more pleased. "Okay. Good. But, Harry, you say that all the time. Why were you so set on taking the potion?"

My reasons for wanting to drink the love potion weren't entirely selfless. I was plenty worried about Ron, sure, and I never shied away from an opportunity to tell Lucy how much she meant to me, but I'd been struggling.

I'd chalked my insecurity up to the Horcrux, for the most part. When I was feeling unfit to lead, it was because I was either wearing the Horcrux or I'd just taken it off. It had been the Horcrux that had led Ron to leave, it had been the Horcrux that had loosed his tongue on his way out. Hermione's ever-increasing irritability had been the Horcrux. The darkness in Lucy's eyes could be easily attributed the Horcrux.

But the Horcrux was gone. I had expected to feel better — accomplished, relieved, encouraged, something, anything — but I was still depressed. Doubting. Feeling defeated.

I didn't doubt Lucy. I didn't doubt her loyalty to me, her love of me, her eternal devotion to doing what was right. I knew, objectively, that Lucy was more firmly on my side and by my side than anyone else in the whole world. Even Ron, in his tirade before leaving, had said that Lucy was the only one with faith in me. I didn't doubt that, I didn't doubt her.

But I worried. I worried that I wasn't enough. That what I'd asked of her was too much.

I didn't doubt the extent of Lucy's goodness, nor the sincerity of it. She was a good person, the best I'd ever known, and she had never once, in the several years I'd known her, given me reason to doubt that. I loved her, and I knew she loved me.

But that didn't change the fact that I was always afraid, deep down, that I was undeserving of her. That it was too good to be true, that she loved me and wanted to put up with me forever. She hadn't known, then, on Valentine's Day three short years ago, just how much putting up with me would cost her.

I didn't realize I'd said any of this aloud until I saw the tears in Lucy's eyes.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

Lucy shook her head, shaking a couple of tears loose in the process. "Don't apologize. I'm glad we can talk about it now. Harry — "

"This is supposed to be about you," I interrupted. "We can — we can circle back to me later — "

"Harry, it's okay, I want to talk about this — "

"Stop being selfless!" I burst out. I pressed my fingertips to my eyes beneath my glasses, trying to breathe, and I wasn't terribly surprised when my fingers came away damp. "Lucy, please, I love you, I love how you're always so good without fail, but please just let me love you, for whatever's left of the five minutes before mine wears off. Ask me something else, please."

"Why?"

I didn't know what she meant by such a vague one-word question, but the love potion did.

"Because you're too good at denying yourself the goodness you don't think you deserve," I said. "And I know why. I'll never understand just how deeply it must hurt you, to be a werewolf, but I know that's what it is. I know you still think you're a monster and I know that deep down there's a part of you that always will, because I know there are some hurts that just never heal. I know that for most of your life, the whole world other than Cedric thought you were a monster and told you as much, and I know that those of us who love you will never be able to undo that damage no matter how hard we try. But — Lucy — it's just — you still carry yourself like you're undeserving of anything less than pure hatred. You still look surprised when people are kind to you. When I transformed you back to human for the first time back in September, you barely spoke to any of us for a week because you were so surprised that I loved you enough to — "

"I was just shocked it worked — " Lucy tried to protest, but I knew her better than that.

"I know. But the shock was two-fold. You're so scared of people's love for you being something that hurts, and you didn't know what to do when you learned that people loving you heals. It transformed you back, and I thought it would be enough, but it doesn't feel like enough."

"Enough how?" Lucy asked.

Tears rose to her eyes again, so I reached forward and pulled her into a hug.

"Enough to convince you that you deserve more than the hand you've been dealt in life," I said. "I know it's a fucking awful one. I'm sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must be, trying to grapple with all of that and come to the conclusion that you didn't deserve it and that you deserve goodness and kindness and love and all of that, but you do. You deserve love even when it hurts, Lucy. You're worth any amount of hurt in the world, because I know you'd never want the people who love you to hurt. That's enough for me. I wish it could be enough for you."

"The only time Dad ever hit Cedric was because of me," Lucy choked out, fully crying at that point. "That was the nightmare I had while I was wearing the Horcrux, back in September. Cedric was trying to stand up for me, and Dad slapped him across the face so hard he would have fallen if I hadn't been standing right there. Amos is gone now, but there are still people who — who want to punish the people who love me. I don't want you to be hurt, Harry, just for being the one closest to me. Even if we're a secret, our love for each other isn't, and — "

Lucy cut herself off with a sob, and I held her tighter.

"My love, that was never your fault. None of this was ever your fault. You shouldn't have to be afraid of that. I love you and I don't care what it costs me to do so."

"You should!"

"I don't. You're worth it. Loving you is worth it. And Merlin, I wish you'd just let me. I wish you could just be okay with the fact that love can hurt and that's okay, but... I know that you never will be. Because, well, that's not you. You're too tender-hearted to ever just accept something like that, and that's okay. I will love you if that ever changes, and I will love you if it never does. After everything you've been through, after everything we've been through, I can't imagine a world where I'd ever willingly leave your side. You mean too much to me. I love you too much. I want to be with you forever, through everything, if you'll let me. I know there's no amount of hurt you could ever inflict that you wouldn't try to heal. Right?"

Lucy nodded.

"And I hope you know the same is true for me. If I ever hurt you, there's nothing I wouldn't do to try to fix it. Because I love you. And I want what's best for you, and, Merlin, I just want it to be me. I hope it's me. That's why I wanted to take these potions, I — I wanted to tell you that I'm trying. I can't be perfect, but I can try to be perfect for you."

Lucy buried her face against the crook of my neck, deflating with a trembling exhale.

"I love you," she said, her voice muffled against the hood of my jumper. "You're what's best for me, I promise."

"It's not my turn yet, you git." I rocked Lucy back and forth a bit. "But I love you too." I heaved a deep breath and just held Lucy. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"No. It's okay. That was enough. I'm just... trying to believe you."

I blinked, something sorrowful twisting in my chest. "But — Lucy, it has veritaserum, why wouldn't you believe — "

"I believe that you meant it," Lucy said. "I'm just having a hard time believing it's true. But I'll work on it. I promise."

"Is there anything I can do to make it easier to believe?"

Lucy shook her head. "You're doing everything you can. You're perfect for me, Harry. I love you."

"It's still not my — " The warmth that had filled me when Lucy had asked the first question dissipated. "Well, I guess it's my turn now. It just wore off. But we don't have to jump into it right away — "

Lucy broke the hug first, scrubbing at her face and looking at me with determination in those beautiful blue eyes. "Ask me."

"Are you sure you're okay? We can wait — "

"Are you scared?"

I shook my head. "No. You're sure you're ready?"

"Are you?"

"How do you feel about me?"

Lucy surged forward with a small smirk and knocked me flat on my back with a kiss.

"I love you, you absolute buffoon." She kissed me again and pinned one of my wandering hands to the mattress. "No, you're going to lie there and be pretty and listen. I love you. Everything you said to me about being worth any hurt, that applies to you too." She grabbed my other hand and pressed a series of kisses down my palm, down my wrist. "I know you'd never want me hurt. I know, too, that you don't deserve to go through all of this bullshit with You-Know-Who alone, and that I happen to be rather qualified to help you with it. I have never once thought, 'Hmmm, should I go with Harry?' Not when we were eleven, and certainly not now."

I opened my mouth, trying to find something, anything to say while she kissed a line down my neck, but I was at a loss. Lucy was relentless. My mind was devoid of all thoughts but her.

"You don't ask too much of me, because you barely ask anything of me at all. I wish you'd ask more of me. For all of your talk of me being surprised when people love me, you're just as shocked, and it hurts me to see you like that the same way it hurts you to see me like that. It's not your fault that you've been asked to do the impossible time and time again, it's not your fault that You-Know-Who chose you because of a stupid fucking prophecy that didn't mean anything until Snape decided it did, and it's not your fault that people can get hurt because of it from time to time. I know you've never wanted that, you've never chosen that, you've never just idly let it happen, I know you've gone to great self-destructive lengths to try to prevent it, and I know, too, that it won't last forever, and we will win, and we won't have to be this afraid forever. Because — because you deserve better than this. You deserve better than this, and than me — "

"There's no 'better than' you, Lucy — "

"Okay, but — but — " Lucy kissed me again, desperation seeping into her body as it pressed against mine. "You deserve better. And it will get better. You're doing your best in impossible circumstances. You always have. I know your best doesn't look like much to most people, but I see it. I think it's enough, more than enough. I think you're incredible, Harry, truly. So what if you're not a perfect student, so what if you're not an all-powerful wizard, so what if you don't have all of the answers? You're still kind. You're still gentle. You still care, so much, about a world that can't make up its mind about you. I see that. I know that. And I love that about you. You're still so unbelievably soft and I know, objectively, that it's a weakness, but, Merlin, I don't care. I can be tough where you want to be soft, I can do what it takes to protect you when you don't want to risk hurting others even to protect yourself, I can love you enough to try to be perfect for you the way you try to be perfect for me."

Lucy released one of my hands so she could swipe away the tears that had escaped my eyes.

"I love you," I choked out.

She smiled. "I love you too. I just needed you to know that you're mine, just as much as I'm yours. You never need to worry about that, okay?"

"Okay," I replied before reaching up to kiss her; it was salty and sweet and as close to perfect as anything got those days.

Lucy indulged me for a long moment before pulling away and brushing my hair back from my forehead. "Do you have any other questions for me, my love?"

"I think you kissed the questions right out of me," I said breathlessly.

"Sorry." Lucy flushed. "I'll let you recover and try to think of another."

"Nope, I'm good."

With that, I tugged her back down to me, and the next five, ten, fifteen, however many minutes passed in a blur. By the time we finally broke apart, we were glistening with sweat, heaving for breath, at least five separate spots on my neck were stinging, and I had no idea where my glasses had gone.

"I needed that," Lucy declared with a loud laugh.

"Yeah, me too," I replied. "We're okay, then?"

"We're okay." Lucy snuggled up against me. "So what exactly will we tell Ron and Hermione?"

"Is there any way you could make the vials look full again?"

"Of course. So did we refuse, or forget?"

"Hmm. We forgot. We were too busy researching."

"And what did we learn while researching?"

"We learned that you absolutely melt when I bite your lip — "

"Harry!" Lucy protested, face flaming. "We're going to say we didn't find anything new, how about that?"

"Okay, okay. But I will share that piece of information one day."

"Fine. Then I'll tell everyone that you love it when I have you pinned — "

And then I was kissing her again, and she was kissing me back. For shorter that time, because Lucy rolled off of me with a sigh and said we ought to start pretending to research so we weren't in the middle of anything we couldn't explain when Ron and Hermione returned. I reluctantly agreed and summoned my glasses — which had somehow ended up on the other side of the tent — before joining Lucy at the table. She had the radio playing, set to a Muggle classical music station.

Even in the minute or so she'd been sitting there while I tried to summon my glasses with the borrowed wand, Lucy's face had become more drawn, the weight of the world settling back on her shoulders and bringing her back down to earth.

When she looked up at me, her eyes were sad, and reluctant as she cast the healing spell for the hickeys on my neck.

"There we go," she said, offering me an attempt at a smile. "I 'filled' the vials back up too. Like nothing ever happened."

"But something did," I protested. "We needed that. It did happen."

"Yeah."

Lucy returned to her ancient runes book, and I reached for a book of my own, but I didn't open it.

Behind me, a lively waltz erupted from the radio.

I jumped to my feet abruptly and extended a hand to Lucy.

"Dance with me?" My voice came out as desperate as I felt. "For old time's sake?"

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

LUCY:

I looked up at Harry, wanting to say yes. "But — "

"You do remember how to dance, right?"

"Do you?" I fired back even as a smile started tugging at my mouth.

"Only one way to find out, Lucy Lu," he replied. "Come on. Please? It's my birthday."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not your birthday, you — "

"But we danced on my birthday, and it's a holiday today, but you hate Valentine's Day, so I was hoping that if we just pretended it was my birthday — "

My hand found Harry's. A perfect fit, as always. I let him guide me to my feet, and the two of us found our rhythm in the middle of the tent, stumbling along at first before hitting our stride. Our dance was nothing elaborate, just the reliable one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three of a waltz we both got the sense we'd heard before, playing somewhere distantly in our pasts. Something faraway and familiar, returning just in time to give us a moment to treasure long after this, too, was the distant past.

The strings were light and lilting, altogether too sunny for the snow blanketing the world just outside of our tent. But inside our tent, the candlelight glowed bright, brighter every second, it seemed.

"Are you doing that?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Doing what?"

"The candles. Look." He spun me around so I could watch as the candles flickered and brightened to the same tempo as our dance. "That's you, isn't it?"

"Not consciously," I admitted, "but it must be."

Harry pressed a quick kiss to my lips, then fell back in step with me. "My girlfriend, the candle whispering wonder."

"I wasn't doing it on purpose, I'm just — happy."

"I can tell." Harry's smile widened. "And I'm happy that you're happy. Happiness has been too hard to come by lately."

Before I could reply, he placed both hands on my waist and lifted me up, spinning me in a circle before returning me to the ground.

I tossed my head back and laughed. "Careful, Potter, you're getting rather confident."

"Dancing isn't so hard when you're in proper love with your partner," he said.

I had nothing to say in response to that, so I just let him keep twirling me around the tent.

In time, the song ended, and the radio announcer's voice filled the tent.

"That was 'Symphony for Strings in C Major,' performed by the Vienna Chamber Orchestra and written by the one and only Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky! Coming up, even more waltzes, for all of you lovebirds out there looking for an excuse to dance with your darling! Up next, a waltz from The Sleeping Beauty ballet, performed by the Slovak State Philharmonic Orchestra, written by, you guessed it, Tchaikovsky!"

"Sleeping Beauty?" Harry repeated. "That's fitting. Did you know there's a whole Disney movie — and a ballet, apparently — written about you?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"I'll show you the movie one day. I watched it once at school."

"Muggle schools show you movies? That's wicked."

"Only when teachers are too tired to do anything else. Or hungover, maybe, now that I think about it. My teacher was wearing sunnies indoors that day. Anyway, I think you'd enjoy the movie. It's a tad silly, but it does involve a true love's kiss."

"Mmm, like this one?"

I popped to my toes and kissed Harry.

"Actually, it's more like..." Harry dipped me so low I was parallel with the floor and kissed me before pulling me upright again. "That."

"Stop being so smooth and romantic, it's unsettling," I said, without much conviction.

Harry offered me a pleased smile. "Well, I've spent so many years reliving the Yule Ball, wishing I'd done something differently. I've rehearsed for years what I'd do if I got a second chance to dance with you, and here we are, so I intend to make the most of it. Of course, this isn't exactly what I imagined, but I'll be damned if I let this opportunity to dance with you slip away."

"I'm not protesting," I replied.

And so Harry danced with me. The candles continued to burn ever brighter, bathing the room in a golden glow. We danced until we heard Ron and Hermione pass through the wards and kissed one last time before hurrying over to the table and cracking our books.

"Welcome back," I called as they walked into the tent. "How'd it go?"

"Oh — er — it went," Hermione responded noncommittally.

I didn't miss their identical flushed cheeks, nor the way Hermione's lips were slightly swollen, nor the fact that Ron's hat was slightly askew.

"No trouble finding the village, then? You were gone an awfully long time," I pressed.

"A little trouble finding the village, but nothing we couldn't handle," Ron said, somehow looking even more flustered than Hermione.

"I'll help put the food away," I offered, taking Hermione's bag and heading into the kitchen.

Ron followed suit, and I opened my mouth to ask him what on earth had happened out there, but he got the first word out.

"Is that — rather, was that a mug?"

Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit.

I'd healed Harry's hickeys, but I'd completely forgotten about the mug we'd broken.

"It must have broken when we relocated this morning," I offered lamely. "Or... something."

If Ron didn't believe me, he didn't show it. "Okay! No worries!"

"So, how'd it go?" I asked in a low voice as we opened the pantry and started putting cans on shelves. "The potions, I mean?"

"Oh, we didn't take ours," he replied.

"You didn't — but — you're both red as can be, and your hat — "

"It's cold out there," Ron said. "And what about my hat?"

"It's all crooked, and Hermione's lips are all swollen, Ronald Bilius Weasley — "

"I must have bumped into a branch. You wouldn't understand, being as short as you are." Ron ruffled my hair teasingly. "And you of all people want to talk about swollen lips right now, Lucy Everlin Diggory? How did your potions go?"

"We forgot."

"Hm." Ron handed me a lemon. "I got treacle tart ingredients. You know, since Harry loves it so much. I thought it'd be helpful, but, well, it looks like you did well enough for yourself while we were gone — "

"Nothing happened," I insisted. "We were researching the whole time you were gone, we forgot about the — "

"You've never forgotten anything in your life, Lucy, and I doubt you'd start now, with something like that," Ron teased.

My face flushed of its own accord. "I — first of all, I have forgotten — more than I should have. And second of all, nothing happened, I just decided I didn't want to do it — "

"So you got swollen lips from kissing a mirror, I take it?"

"You know I bite my lips when I'm anxious," I muttered.

"Look, it's okay, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me," Ron said, patting my shoulder. "Just let us do the same, yeah?"

"You said us," I pointed out, unable to help myself.

Ron smiled. "Maybe I did." He studied my face. "Merlin, wait, have you been crying?"

Tired of lying, I sighed. "A bit." But deciding I could lie just a little more, I sighed again. "Being this close to home is hard."

"It's okay." Ron pulled me into a tight hug. "I'll finish up in here. You should go splash a bit of cold water on your face before you go back out to see Hermione, though. You're rather flushed too. I'd hate for her to get the wrong idea about why."

"Thanks, Ron," I mumbled, retreating to the loo and taking a hard look at myself in the mirror.

When the next day dawned, I'd be going home. The home I remembered, not the home I'd forgotten.

Ron was wrong. My memory was faulty and flawed. Innumerous memories, precious ones and painful ones alike, had slipped away from me, discovered again only in flashes while I was being tortured in a cave that was only a stone's throw away.

I splashed cold water in my face over, and over, and over again. I kept my eyes squeezed shut for several seconds afterward, scared that I'd open my eyes to find that I'd subconsciously extinguished all of the lights in the room and left myself in darkness.

But then Harry laughed in the other room, and the waltz playing on the radio swelled, and Hermione started laughing too, and I caught a whiff of split pea soup heating in the kitchen.

When I opened my eyes, the light was exactly the same. Harry and Hermione were still laughing, and when I returned to the main room of the tent, I found that it was because Ron had tried to repair the mug and it had taken on a rather phallic shape, somehow. I joined in the laughter, and the tent glowed brighter than it had for the entirety of the Camping Trip of Doom to date, alight with the love we all had for each other, in all of its forms.

But especially with the love I had for one Harry James Potter, who possessed so much love for me I was sure I could spend a lifetime trying to understand the depth of it and never even come close.

My gentle, kind-hearted, utterly ridiculous boy with a smile that could bring me back to life and a laugh that could drive the ghosts from my soul. He wasn't perfect, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was perfect for me. And that was enough, and, as I watched him laugh, in the candlelight made brighter by the joy I felt in that moment, I knew that he would be mine, and he would be enough, and perfect, always, and forevermore.