            There were those words again. But somehow softer, more desperate. Even harder to ignore. Hermione wrenched her eyes back to him. She tilted back her head and took him in fully. Even with his wind-chapped skin, and tousled hair, he was just as beautiful as the day she first laid eyes on him, all those years ago. Only now, she knew the beauty underneath. It had taken digging through layers of long-resting rot to find it. But she had found it, in the end. She had found him.