Everybody Loves the Sound Of A Train In the Distance
She was sitting quietly in the kitchen, absent-mindedly sipping a cup of half-cold tea. The afternoon sun filtered dustily through the windows, forming a hazy golden glow around her. Apparently lost in thought, she didn't hear him come in the room. He waited a moment before disturbing her thoughts, taking a fleeting moment to just look before he spoke. "I'm home……"
She gave a small start, surprised that she hadn't heard the door open. She gave him a small smile in greeting, and he remembered how her smile used to light up the room. He tried to smile back, but couldn't muster it, and managed only a lopsided grin.
"I didn't realize you'd be home so early – I haven't started dinner. I know it's my turn to cook" She looked apologetic at this admission. His grin widened just a bit. "It's not like I haven't skipped my turn often enough. Let's step out for a bite."
She nodded. "I'll just run, then, and grab a sweater." She was gone before he could say anything more.
He looked around the sunny little flat as he waited for her. It had the comfortably shabby feel of home that he'd always associated with the Weasley's, completely different from the sterile clean perfection he'd been accustomed to growing up.
The memory of his first visit here swept him up. Two year ago. It had been just weeks after the end of the war, and everyone had been giddy with excitement, drunk on new possibilities for the future. To his surprise, he'd been caught up in it. He'd come to see her, and she'd given him the tour breathlessly, proud for him to see the home she'd made for herself. How she'd grown in his absence. He could still hear the excitement in her voice, and remember how it affected him.
"So this is the main room of course – I made the curtains you know – are you surprised"
"Well, they're fetching" he'd replied, teasing her "are you sure your Mum didn't help?"
"Really, aren't we funny" she'd said, eyes twinkling. "The kitchen's small of course, but…"
"Don't even begin to tell me you cook…" he'd interrupted dryly, peering over her shoulder into the kitchen, moving closer as he did.
"Well, I don't mean to brag, but I can pull together a mean curry" she said in mock seriousness.
"Right. Good thing you're a Healer if you've served anyone…." He ducked to avoid the dishtowel she'd chucked at him, backing to a door as he did.
"So, Gin, what's in here" he said with a slightly evil grin, tapping the door behind him.
"Nothing important " Her eyes glowed as she spoke. "Just a bedroom."
"Really." He walked slowly toward her
"Its quite small." Her breath caught as he continued moving towards her, never taking his eyes from hers.
"I'm sure."
"Hardly room for anything more than a bed…" He closed the gap between them and drew her into a deep kiss.
"It sounds perfect……."
And so it had started. Ridiculously quickly. Easily. He'd moved in after only a few weeks. Her parents weren't thrilled with the living arrangements, but they'd made allowances, because of who he was. Even her brothers' threats had been half-hearted, at most.
She emerged from the bedroom, drawing him back to the present and they left for the pub.
One meal and several drinks later they returned to the small flat, now completely dark. Out of habit, they held hands as they walked. He leaned up against the wall in the hallway, waiting for her to unlock their door. Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his chest. He returned her embrace and realized she was crying softly. He felt a lump start to form in his own throat, and stared out into the dark hallway, willing himself not to cry.
They stood there for a full minute, but his voice was still dangerously unsteady when he spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Gin."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Harry" he could hear the strain in her voice.
"Maybe its just something all couples go through" part of him was still desperate to hold on.
She pulled partially away from him for a second, trying to see his eyes in the darkened hallway. "Do you really believe that?" He heard a ghost of hope in her voice, and it nearly did him in.
"I don't know." They both knew he didn't believe it, but somehow took comfort in the lie.
She pulled fully away from him, and unlocked the apartment door. They walked in and she slipped off her shoes and arranged them by the door, just like always. He performed a warding charm, out of habit from the old days. The routine was both comfortable and sad.
She walked over to him, unshed tears shining in her eyes, and he kissed her. It was a kiss of comfort, friendship and deep respect. He remembered the other kiss, years earlier that had led him to her bedroom.
"I'll go and stay with Ron for awhile, it'll give us both time to think."
She nodded her agreement.
He looked around the flat. Two years. How could it look so similar and yet be so changed?