They held hands under the table and stared at the family surrounding them in the Great Hall. All in black robes, some with red and gold scarves, some with green, some with blue. They wore red and gold. The red matched his hair, the gold matched hers. Hermione and Ron's eyes twinkled as if a thousand spot lights were on them. Her mouth curved into a smile that suggested her stomach was fluttering and legs tense. His face was solemn and stone, but familiar boyish glee sat behind his stern mouth. Their bodies sat uneasily together, strangely calm with fingertips pressed together, facial expressions unchanging.
Across the table was a boy with hair that sunlight couldn't even make a lighter shade of the blackest black. Shadows envied that black. His face told stories of bravery, or perhaps that's naivety. His skin as tough as his furrowed brow from the wind that slapped his face during the time of his life when he felt most alive, from when he chased after a shiny sphere. He kept his eyes down and mouth full, to keep from saying things with his mouth and with his eyes. He didn't know what to say to the newly proclaimed couple.
Hermione's right foot brushed against Harry's trouser underneath the table. He didn't flinch, but pulled his leg closer to his own territory. His fork slammed against the plate and she couldn't see a trace of emotion in the glimpses of his face when he served himself more potatoes. His jaw moved as fast as his mind thought.
Asleep, or trying to be. Harry's cheek sunk into his pillow, the moon making his shoulder look white in contrast to his hair and the fog of darkness that lingered in the room. He knew he heard gentle footsteps behind him, from the stairs, softer than a house elve's. That's why he didn't turn around.
Hermione touched Harry's spine, running her finger from the first bump in the back of his neck to the blanket. "Harry?"
He whispered "yes" with a voice unfamiliar and ghostly.
Hermione put her chin on his shoulder and rested it there while she closed her eyes and waited for the right words to form in her mouth. Her thin lips got dry but she didn't dare lick them in this silence, the sound would seem to magnify with an intensity greater than the energy her heart beat was electricizing. She didn't dare open her mouth again to expose her hollow diaphragm echoes. Harry turned so that her chin dropped onto his chest, making their faces that much closer. She could hear Ron's snores.
Hermione didn't admit that she only chose Ron because he chose her. But that's all Harry wanted to hear from Hermione's stiff lips as she kneeled there, inert. She kneeled and apologized in her head ten times, waiting for her vocal chords to crackle and spit out the words like an old record player.
No words came out of her pipes that night.