Harry fluttered crazily at the mere thought, from his stomach right up in to his throat. Seriously, he had to stop thrilling at this. He'd done it ... somehow, however bizarrely, he'd done it. He'd achieved the main thing he had returned from the dead to do. Hermione was really going to be his wife, and she would be that for every day for as long as he lived. Was he going to go this wildly delirious every single time he thought about it? Actually, he rather hoped that he would. If it was that easy to become so happy, who was he to fight it? He felt the urge to run and jump and cry out like an excited child. He looked around mischievously. No-one would see him if he did ... not down here.