Symphonies in E Minor

Epilogue

Thank you so so so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I thank you for your endless patience. And I'll see you soon with a new adventure hopefully! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

***

Aaliyah finds Harry in the library after suspecting for several minutes that he's escaped the party outside. She finds him leaning against the window with his hands tucked into his pockets, the fire from the log stakes outside illuminating his face as he watches the celebrations from afar. She approaches him quietly, admiring his side profile, from the flop of his curly hair over his eyebrows down his straight nose, to his strong jaw, and then his neck. He doesn't hear her softly click the library door shut and make her way over to him.

She wraps her arms around herself, in a way relieved that she has a moment alone with him. Because the preparations have kept Harry busy, it's been hard to see him. He's been unable to reply to her letters and it's hard to drag him away from Roger and the party planning people he's hired with Faiz's request. But here he is now.

His gaze flickers over to her when she comes into his peripheral vision. He stands up straighter and puts his back to the window ledge, leaning back against it with his hands now on the sill. He smiles at her, as he always does when he sees her.

"You've escaped," she accuses softly, reaching out to fix the lap of his waist coat.

"It's too warm out there."

"Too loud maybe as well?" she asks. "Say the word and I shall order them to tone the festivities down. I'm surprised we've yet to hear a complaint."

Harry shakes his head. "You needn't do that on my account. I will bear it for the several long hours of Samhain that we have." He steals a glance meaningfully at the clock on the wall that ticks between their silence. Aaliyah doesn't need to look over at it to know that this is the time Harry is usually tiredly nestled in his bed.

Aaliyah joins him at the window sill, but instead of standing besides his hip, she hoists herself up on the ledge and sits there, her legs hanging off the edge. Harry's hand brushes against her dress. It's a lovely dress, gifted by Harry's mother herself after the third time they met. It's a gentle green color and she's paired it with gold jewelry in her hair as well as a necklace.

"You owe me a dance, Mr. Styles," Aaliyah says, her eyes shining. The heat of the fire warms her face. "Several actually, as my intended."

Harry reaches out to gently touch her chin, not doing anything but caressing the skin. "If you'd really like me to dance all this much, I suggest you speak to my solicitor and ask him to write it into our marriage contract."

"Amongst the other things I will force you to do as my husband."

Harry laughs quietly. "I do not need to be forced into doing anything with you, Aaliyah. I shall be a willing husband. Whatever you want, you shall have."

"Starting with a dance outside?"

Harry peeks over his shoulder at the crowd. There are at least 30 people in the actual circle, all holding hands and dancing around the fire all merrily. She can see her family teaching the Harry's family the dances, laughing along at their mistakes and triumphs. Clara looks extremely happy holding hands with her lover, whom Harry had convinced to marry Clara. She doesn't know when it happened or how, but at his sister's farewell ceremony from her university, somehow he got her a fiancé alongside the paper that proudly displays her education.

When she asked him how he managed to do that, he gave her a look and said, "I am an excellent wingman."

To which Aaliyah had snorted and said, "For everyone but yourself."