A/N: I wrote this a long time ago, as a potential chapter in one of my fics, Little By Little, but I'm not sure if it will really fit there. Although far from perfect, I think this stands pretty well on its own. Thanks for reading!
It was raining the night Hermione apparated directly and silently into Harry's bedroom.
If Harry had been in the room at the time, he would have seen her figure gently outlined by the glowing flames dancing smoothly in the hearth in a small corner of the room.
Framed not by firelight, but a thin wooden square, the image of Hermione, smiling and waving, upon Harry's mantle did not match her currently troubled face, despite the minimal passage of time since the picture had been taken.
"My deliberation was off," Hermione explained simply to Harry, as she was met with his puzzled and slightly frazzled look upon entering the kitchen.
But, if she was able to be entirely truthful regarding the matter (currently, she was not able), her deliberation had taken her exactly where she'd intended.
Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response, having grown accustomed to Hermione's random and unannounced visits.
Harry took a seat at the table across from a clearly distressed Hermione, abandoning the hopeless pot of meat and vegetables on the stove that was supposed to be stew.
Sensing something was troubling her, Harry let the sound of his helpless bubbling dinner permeate the room for a number of minutes before Hermione spoke.
"I thought we made so much sense. It seemed so logical."
Harry didn't understand, but he waited, holding his breath.
"I guess I…we… never actually considered what that type of relationship would be like for an extended period of time- if you can call less than six months an extended period of time."
She laughed dryly, her warm chestnut eyes meeting Harry's clear emerald ones, her cheek perched in her hand as her elbow rested on the table.
Harry took her vacant hand in his own, now understanding that she was talking about Ron.
Despite the circumstances and current topic of conversation, Harry and Hermione both appreciated how casual and truthful they'd learned to be around each other; no riddle, rhyme, or obstacle- unfortunate tendencies they had both experienced far too often in their short lives.
"Harry, I… I think it's over." Hermione said plainly, although not without remorse.
She met his gaze, searching for reassurance.
"He'll get over it. Mrs. Weasley will get over it. They will understand… eventually," Harry tried to reassure her.
"I know," Hermione agreed, halfheartedly. "I think Mrs. Weasley might have seen the breakup coming actually. She knows how Ron and I have been getting along, or haven't been getting along… and she was so understanding with you and Ginny."
Hermione paused, readying herself to admit the truth in her heart. "It's horrible of me, but I'm relieved."
Remembering the lightness he felt after his breakup with Ginny, Harry knew exactly what Hermione meant. Not to mention the strain Ron and Hermione's relationship had created on everyone recently… and not-so-recently, if Harry was honest with himself.
Nothing else needed to be said, at least not at the moment.
Harry and Hermione had always maintained a deep understanding between them, even if it had taken them until recently to recognize this unfailing connection, a connection which required few words.
The understanding had only grown deeper during and after the War, so much so that even Harry had become as perceptive of Hermione's emotional states as she had always been of his.
Well, nearly as perceptive, Harry thought, amusing himself with the notion that he could be as perceptive as Hermione in any regard.
As the contents of Harry's forgotten stew boiled over, onto the stove, Harry lazily pointed his wand at the mess and it disappeared, pot and all.
Hermione smiled, "Pizza?"
Harry nodded eagerly, and went to retrieve his Muggle cell phone to place the order.
When Harry returned to the kitchen, he found Hermione reaching into the pocket of her coat on the back of her chair.
"I figured now is the best time to give this to you," she said, concentrating on a small object in the palm of her hand, "considering now Ron won't complain why I didn't ask him for help when I made it." She smirked.
Before Harry had a chance to observe the shrunken object in Hermione's hand, with a tap of her wand, she transformed the object to its actual size, covering the kitchen table in a large tapestry.
As the seconds passed, Harry's surprise transformed from awe to amazement. Eventually, the cacophony his emotions narrowed on deep gratitude.
The tapestry was a deep burgundy-red, woven with dark greens and blues and antiqued gold and silver. The design could have easily become opulent, but Hermione had worked her magic in a way that made the tapestry more charming than anything else.
Hermione, feeling self-conscious about her work, began to ramble, "Obviously I chose Hogwarts' colors, I wanted to represent all the houses, Gryffindor's being the primary color, gold for Hufflepuff because a brighter yellow really didn't fit in, but then silver and green for Slytherin, the green worked for the vines, and- well… Harry?"
Harry was so dumbfounded by Hermione's amazing gift that it took him some time to form a coherent thought. Eventually, he managed to say, "When did you… how…?"
Hermione seemed flattered by his incoherence, which Harry subconsciously found amusing.
"I got the idea for it after third year, but I didn't start making it until the summer before sixth year. The protection spells were somewhat difficult, so I had to ask Professor Flitwick for help."
"I don't know what to say," Harry replied.
When their eyes finally met, Hermione blushed, smiling sheepishly, momentarily forgetting her recent troubles.
As Harry further observed the tapestry, it was not the colors or the design that Harry appreciated most; rather, he was in awe of the obvious amount of effort and time and care that Hermione had put into this gift.
The tapestry was divided vertically into two halves by a thin, twisting woven vine, minimally adorned with small flowers of deep blue and red at different stages of growth, and pointed leaves with golden veins.
On the left side of the divide was an expansive tree, fully grown, abundant with small ovals, names written in each center.
Harry could only manage a nod as he gazed at the small ovals. There they were, or their names at least, 'Lily Potter' and 'James Potter', and his own name underneath. Smiling, Harry looked at the oval near 'James Potter' which read 'Sirius Black,' as if indicating they were brothers by blood, and felt another wave of awe and admiration.
As sensible and logical as she was, Hermione knew Sirius was a father figure to Harry. She recognized Harry's limited memories of his godfather were precious to him- a link to the family he never knew.
Looking over the right side of the tapestry, Harry noticed that the tree on the right side was much smaller than the one on the left, and it contained only one oval with his name in the center.
Seeming to sense his confusion, Hermione shyly explained, "I thought it would be nice to give you your own family tree, one you can start yourself."
She continued, "It will grow, on its own, as your family grows… but if you would rather just have one big tree, I can try to manipulate some of the spells…"
"No, it's perfect," Harry interrupted thoughtfully. "Except for one thing. You forgot to add yourself on the small tree." Harry paused. "And Ron, and the Weasleys. You're all my family."
Hermione smiled, and then waved her wand calmly over the small family tree. Slowly, new ovals began to appear on a different branch. Ron, then Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Bill… even Fleur.
Hermione's oval appeared last, but shared Harry's branch.
"What? Oh!" Hermione said, blushing at the error.
Harry watched as Hermione conjured a number of spells he didn't recognize.
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry! That's not right at all!"
She continued with another spell, in vain. "I'll have to tinker with that. It must be because I made the tapestry… maybe the spell isn't working for my name as it does for everyone else."
"Don't worry Hermione," Harry assured, not minding Hermione's error in the least.
"This is the most brilliant gift I've ever gotten."
Hermione's smile was shining now, along with Harry's, as he led her into his cozy living room, levitating the tapestry in front of him.
As he hung the tapestry on the wall, Harry felt so thankful to have something tangible that would always connect him to his family, something that would commemorate the sacrifices that were made so he could live, and something that would remind him of the love that surrounded him.
I hope my little tree can match the size of the other one someday, Harry mused.
The thought emanated a pleasant warmth throughout Harry's being, revealing itself through the gleam in his eyes and the presence of his smile, which he wholeheartedly directed at Hermione.
And maybe, Harry thought, suddenly allowing his heart and mind to feel and consider a hope that, until this very moment, he hadn't been conscious had been growing inside him, Hermione's name will stay right next to mine.