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Large, bright and orange was the moon in the night sky, a Supermoon, or Harvest Moon illuminating the grounds around the elderly couple who sat upon an old wooden bench.
“Reminds me of our first kiss,” the man spoke, his arm wrapped around his wife, Hermione sighed and lent into Fred’s embrace.
“You say that every year on the Harvest Moon,” she replied.
“It doesn’t make it any less true, our kiss under the Harvest Moon of your Sixth Year was the start of our love story,” he whispered.
“What a love story it has been,” she smiled as she thought of the many adventures they’d shared over the years as they’d embarked on their life together, a life filled with happiness and family. They had children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren and it all started when Fred had kissed her for the first time under the Harvest Moon in his parents’ garden when she’d been home for the holidays, her Sixth Year at Hogwarts.
“I love you,” she said leaning up to kiss him.
“As I love you,” he replied, his lips meeting hers in a familiar kiss that they’d shared thousands of times across their lifetime.
The End