Unbroken

Epilogue Part 3: Two months after

Harry POV

It has been my experience for all the years I've known and loved Hermione, that it's best not to press her when she is clearly bothered by something. Of course, I'm an exception to that rule but even I can't seem to find out what's wrong with her. Our wedding is less than a week away and, for the past month and a half since Draco's and Ginny's wedding, Hermione has been acting strangely to say the least.

She's grown to be very irritable, her food choices are downright bizarre, and she wakes earlier than even I do in the morning to spend God knows how long in the bathroom. On top of that, she seems to be more stressed than ever and avoids my questioning about her behavior. Truth be told, I've grown tired of it and that is how I ended up in this situation with me right outside our room ready to confront her once and for all.

"Love, I'm coming in," I alert her before I crack the door open to see her tear stained face and bloodshot eyes. "What the..." I don't even finish the statement and beeline towards her side of the bed, kneeling next to it and taking her hand in mine.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong?" I kiss her knuckles softly while she seems to regard me with surprise. I continue to stroke her knuckles while keeping eye contact with her and she lets out a pained smile at me. I become even more worried.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," I go to speak but she silences me quickly, "I've been such a wretch to you for the past month." She breaks down into a full blown sob and my heart positively bleeds at the sight. She was being too hard on herself.

"You haven't, you've been amazing," I honestly tell her. I don't know where she got this rubbish that she's been a wretch to me but I aim to destroy it. "I've never been more happier than I am when I'm with you."

"But I've been so terrible and I haven't even told you why," she wails to me, pulling me up to wrap her arms around my waist and bury her head into my stomach. I pet her hair and coo at her to soothe her and she eventually calms.

"Well, baby, I would like to know what's happened. It hurts me when something hurts you and the worse part is that I don't know anything about it," I tell her softly.

She scoots over the middle of the bed and pulls me to lie alongside her. I take up her offer and lie next to her while allowing her to rest her head on my shoulder as I plant a kiss into her mass of bushy brown curls.

"Harry, the wedding is in two weeks and I've been trying to find the right time to tell you this but I've been so scared," she confesses softly, fisting my grey t-shirt in her hands.

My heart skips a beat as the unwanted thought of her having second thoughts about marriage start to play through my mind. She couldn't, could she? During the reception, she was more than willing to get married. What changed? Was she regretting her relationship with me? Did she fall out of love with me?

"It's not what you're thinking, Harry. I only ever have loved you."

Well that settles that, count on my wife to read my mind. But what's gotten her like this, though?

"It's just," she inhales a deep breath, "these past eighteen months have been wonderful with you and I can't imagine myself being any happier than I was during this time."

I smile at that. This near year and a half has been nothing short of wondrous and blissful. Sure, there were some arguments and spats but it was nothing particularly bad and it usually ended up with amazing make-up sex anyway.

"I told you I wanted to marry you as soon as possible and I meant every word, Harry. But, now, I'm so scared at what everyone's going to say when they find out. What will my parents think?"