Harmony
Disclaimer: nothing of my own. They're all in JK Rowling's possession. The sole reason for playing is that I just need to see the world in Harmony!
Hermione was having fun time with Ron, but her mind kept wandering to the raven-haired wizard no more than 5ft away at the kitchen table. She was all smiles, absorbed in some lovely melody, and perhaps, her childhood memories of playing piano as a pastime. She then cast a glance at Ron, her smile faltered. It looked like she was contemplating telling Ron something, her shaky relationship with the redhead next to her scraping relentlessly at her conscience.
Hermione looked away, the ghost of a dreamy smile hovered the curve of her lips. She thought of Harry...yet again. Lately, their somewhat palpable distance has been bothering her...Fear of losing their strong friendship gripped her heart...There was something, tender yet persistent, smoldering yet intense, painful yet sickeningly addicting, a weight pressing her soul when she thought of Harry...Something devastatingly dangerous but intoxicatingly warm and sweet from within her when she thought of Harry. Something she kept hoping would arise when she looked at Ron the same way it did when images of Harry were raging her mind. It was all in vain, though. Hermione, the ever-logical witch who counted on rational knowledge for answers to all riddles, felt completely helpless when she could never explain the overwhelming feelings she felt when thinking about Harry, and Harry only!
She could tell they were falling apart, her and Harry. They talked less, getting more reserved and wary of each other, awkwardness suffocating when she was with him alone! Hermione missed the old days when they were so comfortable, hugging and happy in each other's company so badly that the pain growing inside her, whether real or just her figment of imagination, soon became unbearable... She yearned to reconnect to him, to comfort him, to get close to him once more...The mere thought of letting their friendship that meant so much to her slipping through her fingers, the nightmare of losing Harry, losing his trust, his faith, his friendly affection would suck blood out of her body, withering her to a painful slow death.
Her heart guiding her feet, she stood up, still in a daze, leaving Ron at the piano and moving, slowly but resolutely, towards Harry. He appeared deep in thought, fingers fiddling with the golden Philosopher's Stone.
Harry had a faraway look, his emerald eyes lost the usual lustre, sending another pang to her torn heart. She took a deep breath, gathering all her resolve, intent on pushing away the oh-so-familiar tension threatening to resurface, before sitting in a chair in front of him, pretending to be quite relaxed, or so she hoped. She started talking, or rather babbling, about her speculations of The Horcrux, trying to make Harry understand she would be always willing to help and be there for him every step of the way, no matter what!
Somehow, his pointed gaze straight at her and his apathetic demeanor felt very disconcerting, made her extremely nervous...The intense feelings when thoughts of Harry haunted her mind now increased tenfold, topped off with an unmistakable sense of attraction.
Hermione looked up and felt her knees go weak at the cool uncaring look on his chiseled face. Their eyes met, and she was held frozen by his emerald gleam.
She'd never felt so foolish before, being unable to, for the life of her, recognize what they had been discussing, or more precisely, what she had been rambling...Time seemed to stretch endlessly, and she started to doubt if she could ever look away, but Harry spared her the embarrassment of getting suddenly dumbstruck by swiftly breaking eye contact and turning back to peruse the Philosopher's stone.
Hermione was soon aware that Harry had yet to utter a single word. He didn't seem to be listening either. She forced a tentative, weak and timid smile in his direction, yet immediately startled at the deep hurt painted in his grimace while he was staring at the Golden Stone as if it were a master key to all the mysteries of the universe...
Harry could vaguely hear their laughter tinkling from the dimly-lit corner where sat the dusty grand piano, a twinge of pain and envy clutching his hearts. His wallowing in self-pity party, however, was cut short by the abrupt silence against the previous jumble of off-key notes trailing the very same corner. Harry felt, rather than heard, light footsteps approaching him from behind. His heartbeats irrationally accelerated. He didn't move an inch, holding his breath, secretly waiting. After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione drifted into his vision. She walked lightly around the table and sat in the chair opposite. She was donning a peach cotton shirt, low-cut, showing a bit too much of creamy expanse of skin, her frizzled brown hair in a messy bun. She looked mildly flustered, presumably from playful banters with Ron just a moment ago. Hermione was trying to smooth some invisible creases around her sleeve cuffs, appearing dubiously fidgety. Then, she started talking about Horcrux hunting, her tone somewhat too airy for such a gloomy subject. She kept talking fast and nonstop, as if she were edgy about something, not even giving him a chance to chime in. Had it not been for the occasional glances at him, outside observers would think she was talking to herself. Harry barely registered that she was reassuring him of their ultimate success, and half-heartedly mentioned some notable progress in her recent research into destroying the locket. For some reason, Harry felt like sulking and brooding. He resented that fighting Voldemort was always between him and Hermione, all business and solemnity. He felt that he could never have something ordinary, enjoyable moments with her like Ron. He started to tune her out, involuntarily flicking his eyes to her mouth, watching the movement of her lips instead, as she droned on, oblivious to his offensive stare.
Then, Hermione looked up, and Harry swallowed hard, distinctly aware of the heat creeping up to his cheeks. Their eyes met, and he was lost in her brown orbs, rendered mysteriously alluring with the golden flecks haloing the dark pupils.
As if someone just punched him hard in the gut, Harry was sharply reminded that he had been ogling his best friend. Pain re-emerged like lemon squeezed on fresh open cuts. He had to look away, intently switching his gaze upon the philosopher's stone, unconsciously going on a trip down the memory lane. He recalled how Hermione beamed at him when he complimented her, how her hand felt so warm in his, how her small frame fit right in his embrace. Harry thought about how anxious Hermione was to see Ron after the polyjuice flight to the Burrows. He remembered their intimate times in the tent, their silly dance for comfort, when he literally made a fool of himself just to cheer Hermione up. Her melodic laugh shattered the chills in his bone, igniting the flame of desire bubbling in his chest when she took hold of his hand, allowing him to lead her. Harry regretted not kissing her madly like he desperately wanted to at that time...
All of a sudden, a lightning bolt whose shape no different than the red scar branding on his forehead struck his entire being with its full force of stark realization. He could no longer deny! Denial proved utterly futile in that moment.
Harry Potter was hurt, jealous and deeply in love, with no one other than Hermione Granger, his supposedly best female friend and love interest of his best male friend...
The entrance door eased open gently, tiny creaking sound muted by some merry tune floating from the piano corner. A lovely young girl in a bright orange summer dress stepped on the threshold, her cheeks flushed a healthy crimson after a pleasant stroll along the beach nearby. She had been enjoying many similar sprees on her own during their sojourn at the Shell cottage for almost a month now. Waves crashed ashore steadily, singing a quiet lullaby, the ocean a vast sparkling mirror of magnificent swirls of azure and forest green, reflecting the deep sky. The color of Hope poured over myriad unique sculptures made of fluffy cloud. It seemed like a lifetime ago when thick gray woes were flooding the same immense arch above, rain pattering in grave remembrance of Dobby- the fallen elf, when the four of them huddled around the gravestone, hope completely drained, tears of despair and grief joining the rain in its celestial requiem. Luna Lovegood gradually got into the habit of seeking peace at the very same place. She would bring a daisy crown she had woven earlier during the day to Dobby, quietly bask in soothing solitude, and then finish her quick trip by sauntering barefoot on the sands, talking animatedly to invisible magical creatures on the way. Today was no different. After her daily outing, feeling more invigorated, Luna greeted the broken melody Ron Weasley was playing under the tepid instruction and no few teasing remarks from Hermione Granger with much more buoyancy than any of the three current occupants of the cottage could, including the begrudging piano beginner. She started to hum and sway along the music. Soon, Luna was twirling around, her long blonde curls that had gleaned the golden glory of the midday sun were shining radiance and flying in the crisp summer breeze wafting from the open doorway. Subdued music faded into the void like an already sagged string stealthily cut. Luna continued dancing in pantomime until she felt the presence of strained feelings permeate her lively spirit.
Luna Lovegood had a peculiar way of observing things in their own lights, her inner eyes could penetrate the most solid emotional walls and peel the deepest layers of the psyche. One glimpse of her three friends, she cottoned on to what was happening. The quick-witted Ravenclaws soundlessly glided to the piano corner, where Ronald was eyeing his two best friends sitting at the kitchen table, unreadable expression on his freckled face. The bright sun filtered through the large bay window in the kitchen, put his friends in some sort of spotlight and him further in the shadows, giving him the advantage of a stalker. Ron remained seated, his back leaning against the grand instrument, folded his arms in front of his chest in a carefree attitude, and tapped his right foot lightly on the wooden floor, as if to a non-rhythmic song. However, anyone half perceptive as Luna Love good could tell right away that anger was blazing beneath the calm facade, seeing his ears tipped scarlet, his thin auburn eyebrows drawing a scowl of distaste. Ron looked from Hermione to Harry then back, the glint in his cerulean eyes seemingly bore a hole into the oblivious pair who was clearly too wrapped up in each other. Not wasting a moment, Luna proceeded to scamper in front of Ron, giving him a modest view of her slender waist, within a hair's breadth, directly at eye-level. Ron spread his arms instinctively only to let them fall limp on the piano bench. Luna smirked down at him, twinkles in her unfathomable silver irises. Ron had the grace to clear his throat loudly, but not before blushing profusely. Not a single trait of the precious half-baked storm visible on his facial features, Ron unconsciously wet his lips. Confident that her little mischief played nicely, Luna smiled broadly at the redhead, wordlessly nudging him to rise from sitting posture, and none too gently pulling him to the still open doorway.
The pinnacle of sunshine once again streamed down on the young girl, rivulets of blonde hair glittering as if adorned with thousands of golden gems. Luna swept her hair on one side, lithely gathering her swimming curls into a loose braid while Ron stood gaping overtly, his normally flame auburn mop, now touched with specks of tangerine blonde hue, was fluttering lightly in the breeze, adoration suffusing his widened eyes, mouth hung slightly open. Pale freckled face turning adorably rosy, the tall, lanky redhead was a sight to behold! Luna leaned in closer and whispered something about waiting for a nonexistent magical creature to hatch on the sea shore. For the first time in his life, Ronald Weasley couldn't bring himself to mock at the loony girl like he always did when she started sputtering nonsense. He all but nodded dumbly, feeling tingles all over his body, sending his lustful imagination running wild. Luna kept breathing into Ron's ear, her tongues teasing around his reddened ear lobe. She caught another brief glimpse of Harry and Hermione, who were both helplessly drown in their mutual intense gazes, at the kitchen table, out of the corner of her eyes. The dreamy curtains were drawn in her silver orbs, unveiling the pool of warmth and contentment.
Harry and Hermione, the savior of wizarding world and the brightest witch of the age, both were looking deep into each other's eyes, trying to pry open windows to their souls, held spellbound by some unknown magic, when time stood still. Dazzling light beams radiating from their hearts reached out and met half way, intertwining in a close embrace, Ethereal lights from two hearts melted into one flashing burst of the strongest power Luna had ever felt, engulfing the couple within the aura of inextricable connection. Magic from heaven set free a glorious madrigal of Harmony and Love. Divine words reverberating in her heart, Luna could foresee the victorious day Harry Potter would conquer the darkest forces with the power Voldemort was incapacitated to confront-the power of loving and being loved, with his heroine and beloved friends by his side.
As for Luna Lovegood, she would be prepared for the fight against darkness when the time came, but for now, she knew she would be taking a second trip to the beach. Not that she would complain, Luna lovegood loved the serenity singing oceans offered. Plus, she would have company for the first time, and a very interesting company one certain dumbfounded Ronald Weasley was ./.