A/N- So, just a little H/Hr drabble here written for the Non-Canon Ficathon on LiveJournal (: I seriously love LJ so much. Anyone with me? *raises imaginary glass*
Disclaimer- Yeah... no.
He left them. Just then and there, he up and left the tent, and she is left with a broken, shattered porcelain heart still beating ferociously as if some unknown force is keeping her alive.
(Maybe it is.)
She knows he wasn't in his right mind; it was the locket, she tells herself. It made him leave. But inside, she knows that she and Harry had been expecting this all along.
Of course, the three of them had gotten along all too well together thus far to have a flawless hunt afoot. But she always thought it would be her creating the flames, striking the match- not the ginger red head which with Harry seemed inseparable. Thinking back, she wonders if it was really her and Harry all along. If it's still her and Harry.
(Maybe it is.)
So sitting there, on the steps, watching Harry watch her and pretending not to see, she couldn't help but blow off a lot of the sadness that seemed to drift over her head after his departure.
The radio is on. She never realized it before, but now it's there and it's blasting in her ear, and she wants so bad for it to just stop but she loves this song and can't help but hum along and hope no one hears her. But seriously. Who would hear her?
One look up and she gets her answer. "Hermione, would you... would you like to dance?" And it's all Harry needs to say.
She grins for the first time in seemingly forever, and his face brightens with just the look of her even slightly happy. This makes her giggle. She'd like to think it was good to hear.
(Maybe it is.)
So taking her hands, he starts moving his waist side to side, and she lets their joined hands flop around in the air as they smile and laugh and dance with such innocence it makes her want to swoon and weep all at the same time. And if Harry wasn't currently spinning her under his arm, she might have.
After her twirl, it's his turn- and his gracelessness shines through his spin and makes her laugh all the more. Silently, she sends Ron a thank you.
She doesn't know if he hears it.
He sighs and the song ends, and Harry pulls Hermione into a bone-crushing hug and all of a sudden she has the overwhelming urge to cry again. Her head on his chest, his lips quickly kissing her forehead, is so sweet and so familiar that she wishes they could just stay here forever and grow old. (This, she muses, she will tell him later.)
He speaks into her hair, and she wonders if it's more for himself to hear than her. "I love you, you know? It's..." He laughs. "I don't know. I just love you." She can feel his smile through her skull like she can hear his cries half a world away. For a few moments (for longer than a few moments) her sadness leaves and is replaced with an immense and powerful feeling, and she lets it fill her up and surge through her being.
It's only the heat of the moment, she thinks, but feels uncertain as another song starts to play and Harry pulls her back into a dance, grinning madly as she finds herself mirroring that reaction and he dips her, never letting go of her as she never lets go of that feeling. It's only the heat of the moment...
(And maybe it isn't.)