A/N- Post-war (:
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.
Harry POV;
.
The letter reads like this:
Dear Harry, I know it's been long. Too long. It's been longer than it should and longer than I want. I mean, just because we're not the Golden Trio anymore doesn't mean we can't still be two.
He stops reading there, and closes his eyes and rubs his forehead and shuffles his feet in his small cottage on the outskirts of some town without a name. He was so sure no one would find him here. He wanted no one to find him here.
Curiosity slowly gets the best of him, though, and he picks back up reading where he left off, his heart broken a bit more than when he started.
.
The letter reads like this:
I've never been good with words, Harry-or maybe I have, I wouldn't know-but I would give anything right now to see you again. We could do lunch, maybe. I want you to know that I'm not happy either, and it's okay to fall away sometimes, but if you'd only get back up...
Frowning slightly, he sits down on the nearest chair before he collapses. Weak in the knees, he scowls. He didn't want to get back up; didn't she see? His best friend, the one he trusted for years... she had no idea what it was like.
Or maybe she did. He's starting to think that maybe he wouldn't know, either.
.
The letter reads like this:
Harry, the point is I miss you. Life's getting lonely here in London, and I never thought I'd say that with Muggles around me everywhere I look. Well, I hope your happy, Harry, and please think about my offer to lunch. I'll pay, or we can go Dutch. -Hermione
He's always wanted to go Dutch. The girls he's eaten with have never offered to split the cost of a meal, much less pay the entire thing... but he knows that is what is best.
He knows he'll meet her for lunch, maybe, and he'll pay for all-maybe at the Three Brooomsticks or Honeyduke's or maybe some Muggle cafe whose name he can't pronounce.
He thinks he'd like that; a mispronounced coffee shop. He can completely understand how it feels to be overrated.
.
Hermione POV;
.
The letter reads like this:
Dear Hermione, I'd love to take you up on the offer for lunch. Is Tuesday okay, possibly around one? I'll pay. -Harry
She loves how he never mentions the time frame between the last time they spoke and now; it's like those three years never existed, and they're just good friends catching up.
She wonders if it's ever that easy, for anyone. Much less them, she muses.
.
The letter reads like this:
Dear Hermione, you were right. I think lunch was exactly what I needed. We should do it again sometime; maybe you can come over and we'll have dinner. I'd tell you where I live, but I seem to have forgotten the name of the town.
She almost giggles at that, but then deems it inapropriate. He probably forgot the name of the town purposefully. He was never one for names.
To him, Harry Potter was no greater than the name Ron Weasley, but she's thinking that he might have changed that frame of mind, now.
.
The letter reads like this:
I'm sorry for not replying to this in your first letter, but you really are right. I can't hide forever, and I was stupid for thinking I could. It really has been too long-or was too long, but I did enjoy lunch. Two's sounding better and better, you know? -Harry
She likes the sound of that: Harry and Hermione. If this relationship is going somewhere, she thinks it'll go all the way. She's thinking maybe, one day, when the ghosts of the fallen don't haunt them anymore and the cheap wine they buy isn't so expensive, he'll turn her into a Potter.
She's never been one for names either, but she thinks that particular one sounds really, really pleasant.