A/N: Yes, I used the periodic table as a prompt... This had been sitting in my "in progress" pile for some time, and with R/Hr's "ship week" happening over on tumblr, I figured I might as well go for a few of these...
Each chapter will be prompted by the properties of an element. This has been all kinds of fun, so far...
Rated M for future chapters. This chapter is more of a K+...
Hydrogen is the lightest and most abundant chemical element, constituting roughly 75% of the Universe's chemical elemental mass. Naturally occurring elemental hydrogen is relatively rare on Earth.
1. Hydrogen
12 May 1998
They stood amidst a crowd, and he could feel the hollow place where others had been, even those he hadn't known so well. It was a glaring, rumbling note of absence that haunted the still-crumbling walls as they lived, now free, inside a castle they'd once called home. Her hair was at his shoulder, and knew he could always look and find her there. Merely knowing she would not leave his side made the air around him lighter, easier to breathe.
They'd spent ten days in sadness, red-rimmed eyes and silence over the dead. He'd lost his brother, and yet he'd run out of tears to cry. He'd run out of things to say long before that. He could not recall the last words he'd actually spoken to her, and he felt a pang of guilt as her fingers laced with his. He could be better for her. And maybe he hadn't been what she'd needed, all the time. But she'd always been exactly what he'd needed.
He could not have imagined a more perfect ending for the two of them, with the knowledge that she wanted to be with him after everything. Unfortunate, then, that he'd not been able to speak. Though so many people had someone there for them today, he felt oddly singular in his love just then, holding Hermione's hand. And it must be rare, this feeling of peace, for a moment, weightless. He could have a future, now. And she could. Was there any reason to keep on stretching the days and waiting for pain to fade? There never really was.
"Come with me?" he asked, gently, tugging her hand. And she nodded, following him out of the Great Hall, into the dull echoing whispers of the crowd from behind them as they descended the front steps, into the night.
The air was cool for mid-May, tickling the overgrown hairs on the back of his neck. But her hand was warm in his, and he clutched her more tightly as he crossed the grounds, headed for a moonlit, partially hidden tree, just before the long slope downward, toward the lake. He paused under the tree's branches, dropping her hand only long enough to turn and face her, taking her other wrist in his fingers instead.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned voice floating on a light breeze, stars glimmering in her darkening eyes.
"I am now."
He bent and kissed her top lip, so soft and short, enough to be brave. And he felt her break into goose flesh as he traced his fingertips up her arm to pause at the skin of her exposed collarbone.
"It's so obvious now," he sighed scratchily, clearing his throat as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, heavier than they were before, as she smiled softly back up at him. "I don't know why I waited so long. I really don't."
"It's only obvious because now you know I love you," she whispered.
His stomach lurched with excitement, perfection in words she'd said so casually, like they'd always been there, waiting.
"I hadn't meant- blimey! I was trying to say... obvious because I know what I want, and-" he paused to swallow back his own rambling words as he tried to still his overactive heart. "But, bloody hell, I didn't know that you actually... I guess I didn't... But, you do? You really-"
"Oh," she squeaked, eyes wide. Evidently, she had thought the whole thing too obvious for him to question... as if of course he already knew.
He grinned, unable to continue, and she blushed in the moonlight.
"Sorry," he whispered in a low-toned, raspy voice. "I dunno what- Hermione... What-"
But she shook her head, shyly grinning back at him, and she tugged his hand, pulling him down to sit atop the soft, cold grass beneath the tree.
"You weren't making any sense," she explained, sensibly. "Want to try again?"
She bit her lip lightly, and he laughed, shaking his head. He scooped her neck into the palm of his hand and softly tilted into her, angling his lips against hers to fit perfectly as they closed their eyes.
He felt the gentle pressure of her fingers against the sides of his neck as he kissed her, and he relaxed every muscle in his body until he'd pulled back enough to wrap an arm around her waist and tug her down sideways, to lie on the grass, facing each other.
She laughed softly as he studied every curve of her face, lines and tiny freckles, barely visible. And he smiled because he knew, in contrast, that she could see so very many freckles against his own pale skin. How different they were, really, and how perfect. How unbelievable that at the end, he'd been rewarded. For nothing. For a life he'd never counted for too much before. Of course he'd wanted to live. But now, with no proper place to be or plans to make, he could live for her. And that was essentially, exactly, what she wanted in return.
He watched her swallow, nervous.
Realising he had yet to tell her all he had to say, his eyebrows shot up and he tensed momentarily beside her.
"What is it?" she asked, slightly alarmed.
Sod it. There was only one thing, honestly.
"I love you, too," he said, so sincerely. "That's all I was trying to say before, really."
Tears glowed in her eyes as he watched her, his own chest still tight with open wounds. He might have them there, the absence of his brother... the weight of it. He might keep them forever. But he gathered her into both of his arms, turning onto his back until she was lying half on top of him.
He marveled at her weightlessness and the ease with which they fit together. So much of what was left of him was made up of her. And he'd never had to try. She'd become such an integral, entwined part of his existence. He could almost irrationally wonder if red, yellow and blue would look a shade different if he'd never met her. Could he honestly have never known what it was like, to love her? Was there a way on earth he could have lived without her?
Was it just that he'd picked the right card, unknowingly?
She kissed his neck, and he fluttered his eyes shut, and she gathered him closely, tighter, as if somehow, someway, they could melt down into the same, unending person, forever.
"Come home with me," he said, and though he'd meant a new home, something they hadn't said before, he knew she'd say yes. Brilliantly, he absolutely knew.
He knew that he wasn't done being afraid, too heavy with loss. He knew that he'd have moments he'd regret, days when he'd wake up and the world wouldn't look quite as bright as it did tonight, even with the sun tucked away and the black veil of nearly midnight stretching thickly overhead. But, if after all they'd been through so far, she really still wanted him...
He didn't dare to expect she'd never change her mind. But, for now, knowing that she was with him, tonight... knowing that she loved him and had loved him and wanted him to go on loving her...
It was more than enough.