A/N: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Fairytale
She thought their story was a fairytale.
He snorted at that. He said the only thing the two had in common was the handsome prince, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
She had snorted at that.
The next time, she explains why. She even makes a chart to make him understand. She was still Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, who could never leave a question unanswered. It was always, still is, he hastily corrects himself, all or nothing with her. And so he sits, listening patiently. She speaks quickly, her eyes alight with that familiar light, her words slurring as if she were afraid that she might forget them. She tells him how all fairytales essentially consist of three characters-the princess, the prince and the villain. And she says the princess and the prince, together or alone, fight and defeat the villain. And then she says that she remembered them fighting with a red-head and a black haired man who killed the villain and defeated the bad guys by shooting bright lights at them. And she grins.
And they all, I mean, we all, she corrects herself, lived happily ever after.
He smiles sadly at that.
She giggles and he gets up, still smiling sadly and walks out. His smile lasts till the door. Outside, a lone tear makes its way down his cheek and he quickly wipes it away.
And she still giggles away, so happy in her fairytale world, that he can't, just can't bear to wake her up.
If their story was a fairytale, she was the princess that the prince could not bear to wake up because she was so safe and so so happy in her fantasy and also because he knows she would not want to live in a world where her best friends were no more.
He walks out of St. Mungo's and begins his lonely walk home.
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