Written for the Twin Exchange May 2011 Challenge
Prompt: Quilt, Pairing: Harry/Your Choice (Hermione), Quotes: "Look out below!", Theme: Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.
Hermione slipped inside the locked room and crept quietly up behind the young men leaning partially out of the opened window.
George, Ron, Harry, Bill, and Charlie each held an armload of water balloons, staring down at the entrance below them.
"Target acquired?" she asked softly, making them all jump.
"Hermione!" Charlie yelped.
"What are you doing here?" Bill asked, glaring at Ron and Harry.
"Don't look at me," Ron defended.
"Er…I may have mentioned something about our rebellion," Harry apologized. "But, I definitely didn't give out specific details."
"Oh please," Hermione said. "You all think you're so clever. Just give me some balloons and point me towards Umbridge. How that woman always avoids Azkaban…"
"Alright Granger, but you'd better not miss your target." George grinned, conjuring some more balloons.
"Not a chance." She crowded in with the boys, watching below. "Where's Ginny?"
"With Neville," Ron answered. "He's being a good boy for his old gran."
"Told us to get Kingsley though, for going along with this mess," Harry added.
"I have to admit, I don't feel one bit sorry for the Minister. A Ministry ball to celebrate its victory; ridiculous."
"Yeah, you'd think they single-handedly took out You-Know-Who," Bill sneered.
"Yup, Shacklebolt's got it coming," George said, bouncing a balloon in his hand.
"Attention all hands," Bill whispered, "We have incoming."
A large group approached, including Umbridge, Kingsley, Percy, and Fudge.
"Perfect," Harry whispered.
"One, two, three," Bill instructed and they each unloaded on the well-dressed crowd beneath them.
"Look out below!" George bellowed, a second before the balloons hit.
As one, the group looked up and was drenched in foul smelling sticky black goo.
Laughing, they ducked back in the window.
"I'll get you George," Percy called, not quite containing his own laughter.
"There will be consequences!" Umbridge screamed.
"That wasn't water," Hermione stated the obvious.
"It was a donation from Neville's mimbulus mimbletonia," Harry told her.
"Yeah, he and Ginny didn't want to be left out entirely," Ron agreed.
They heard footsteps outside the door.
"Time to go," Bill announced, apparating out.
Each of the Weasley's followed suit wordlessly. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and directed them to Shell Cottage, just as the door burst open.
At Bill and Fleur's cottage, they set about getting drinks and food. They'd have their own battle anniversary, one that didn't involve lying and dressing like gits. They sat in a circle on the floor, a shot of fire whisky in front of each of them.
"To Fred," Bill toasted, raising his glass.
They each echoed him and drained their shots. George wiped quickly at his eyes.
"To Remus," Ron said, after all their glasses had been filled again.
"Sirius." Harry raised his glass.
"Tonks." Charlie went next.
"Lavender," Hermione toasted.
Around and around they went listing everyone they knew and cared for that had been killed over the years in the war against Voldemort.
Hermione was so blurry eyed by the time the last name was said, that she didn't know if it was from tears or being drunk. She was vaguely aware of Ron passed out beside her. George and Charlie were still drinking and telling stories about Fred. Bill and Fleur had wandered off, hands all over each other.
"Come on, up you get," Harry mumbled, tugging her to her feet and nearly falling over.
"Oh, I don't want to mooooove," she complained, following him.
"Can't have you falling asleep on the floor."
"Ron is."
"Ron's a big boy."
"So am I," she said indignantly.
"Come on then, big boy, I want some company."
Something wasn't quite right with that statement, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Shrugging, she allowed him to lead her by the hand to the back porch. She sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and was rewarded by her queasy stomach settling.
Harry sat down, reclining back on his elbows. Relieved to get off of her feet, Hermione dropped down beside him.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, looking up at the stars.
"Why didn't we ever get together?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Er…" She turned to him so quickly that she got dizzy.
"Aside from Ron and Ginny, I mean. Why not before or after?"
"Before there was Cho."
"And Viktor."
"I hardly think he's worthy of that scowl."
"Why not afterwards then? They've both moved on; they wouldn't mind. Ginny and Ron, I mean, I don't care about Cho or Viktor."
"I…didn't know that you wanted to."
"Of course I do-did," he corrected.
"You do?"
"You don't?"
"I…maybe, I don't know. Do you?"
"Yes."
She had always admired how straightforward Harry could be, no games or teasing girls.
"Thank you," he said, grinning.
"Did I say that out loud?"
"Yup."
"Oh.'
"Well, do you?"
"Do I what?" She blinked at him.
"Let's have this conversation when you're sober." He chuckled, transfiguring a potted flower into a soft quilt and draping it over their laps. "For now, just company will do."
"You're pissed too." She snuggled up to his side, pillowing her head on his chest.
"I guess," he admitted. He had felt drunk earlier, but the fresh air had helped sober him up, it always did.
"You really want to be with me?" she asked in a small voice.
"For years."
"I'd like that."
She ran her hand down his chest to his abdomen and rested it there. Harry grazed his hand up her side and into her thick hair. Tilting her head back, he saw her closed eyes and heard her softly snoring.
He sighed and conjuring himself a pillow, relaxing and pulling his best friend close.
"Maybe tomorrow." He kissed her head and closed his eyes. He'd definitely have to remind her in the morning, maybe after coffee and a toothbrush.
The End.
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