Different and strange, but I thnk I like this one. Angst warning, though. I have to say.. I may continue it someday if I find the motivation, but as for now, this is a one-shot. :)
Written for Pinky Green's "The Quotes/Sentences Challenge" number 28 and 1.
Enjoy, reviews much appreciated! :)
xCNx
It was a glorious day, with the sun beating down on London with a warmth not familiar to that area, with no cloud in sight and the blue sky stretching for miles around. There was a light breeze to alleviate the hot and stickiness of the day, but it did very little to cool people down. There was a lightness in the atmosphere, a bounce in everyone's step as they chatted amongst themselves in the back garden of the Weasley family, conversing with an ease that only comes with acquaintance.
To everyone there, they looked like the rest; two people having a drink, chatting, in the shade from the harsh rays of the sun. Smiles, laughter and jokes are the meal of the day, after all, and no one looks twice at the two. Especially since the focus is on the bride and groom, who happily sat in the middle of it all with radiant smiles on their faces.
Harry smiles automatically, knowing his godson is the happiest he's ever been, and that thought makes his heart lift. For all intents and purposes, Teddy is a son to Harry, who receives no less love than his biological children. Something is nagging at him though, and his best friend sitting next to him is probably a large part of that. His heart longs to reach out and hold her hand, to tell her everything is okay. She's smiling he see's, but there's a sadness in those big, brown eyes that he can't ignore.
He sighs and settles for wrapping his arm around her shoulder, which causes him to breathe in her sweet scent and smile, which in turn makes his smile fall. This isn't his wife.
Harry leans closer and whispers quietly in her ear, "Are you okay?"
She nods, her curls bouncing as she does so. Her usually wild hair is tamed for the day, with soft curls reaching her shoulder. Its shorter than it was in their younger years, but it suits her. She looks older, wiser, more mature with the shorter cut and more like his Hermione for some reason. He's drawn out of her reverie by her reply, "I'm fine. They really make a lovely couple, don't they?" She's smiling genuinely, fine wrinkles appearing around her eyes.
He can't help the pride that swells in his chest as he glances back at his godson, "They do. It's just sad that.."
"The day is tainted by Ron divorcing me and my daughter running away?" She says nonchalantly, cutting him off.
Harry lets another sigh escape him, "It could be for the best. And Rose will come home soon, I promise."
"Is hero Harry going to find her for me?" Hermione laughs, and he realises she's joking.
"Of course. When have I not?"
"This is true," She replies honestly, a thoughtful expression on her face. Hermione glances away then, back towards the party. "It's because of you."
Harry blinks. "What?"
"Yesterday. You asked me why he asked for a divorce, and it's because of you." There's a small pause of silence, her waiting for him to respond and him wondering what on earth he could reply with. She decides to continue, "He said you were in love with me."
He can find no reply except: "I'm married." It comes out lamely, and she looks at him sharply, almost disapprovingly.
"Ginny loves you."
"Hermione, don't -"
"I'm not going to lecture. We can never be together, Harry. We've fought over it too many times in the past, and it comes down to the one hard fact that neither of us were willing to recognise until now: We can never be together."
Harry doesn't respond, but she can read him like a book and knows he's torn. He doesn't know whether to argue with her or agree; after all, he's married to a woman he does love, and he has three beautiful children that are always at the forefront of his mind in every decision.
But she's not Hermione.
A slow song begins to play, and he grabs her hand, "Dance with me."
She stares in surprise, but lets him guide her to the floor, "But you don't dance."
His lips twitch, almost making a smile, "I do with you."
Hermione allows herself to relax, melting against his strong form. They're close as physically allowed, her head on his chest as she listens to the rhythmic sound of his heart beat. His arms are wrapped around her, creating a kind of shield from the outside world that gives her a sense of protection, and a rush of affection hits her. Her heart aches all of a sudden, and she closes her eyes to savour the moment and also so not to cry. Her life is falling apart.
Sensing her trouble, he clutches her tighter, wishing to convey his support and love without saying any words. She raises her head and they lock eyes for a moment, brown clashing with green, both reading, calculating, each others thoughts. As they always did with such an ease that other people made frequent jokes about it. Suddenly realising how inappropriate they most likely look to outsiders, she rests her head on his shoulder.
They'll look on that as a friend comforting another. Hermione is in a difficult place, after all. Many were surprised she came to the wedding, with her divorce being announced in the paper yesterday alongside her daughters eloping with the Malfoy heir. But she was Hermione Granger, in her forties now and still the brave girl that fought in the final battle. She was wiser to people and the world now, but there was still that brave and courageous Gryffindor there that never gave up.
"Harry?" He mumbles some sound of acquiescence, and she continues, "Did you ever regret getting married so young?" She whispers, almost afraid to say it out loud; as if it were a cardinal sin.
"Of course. There are days I wish I wasn't married, but then I see my children and know I couldn't imagine it any other way. Even though there are a lot of things I'd like to change. People I'd like to have helped or even kept in contact with. Realisations I wish I'd had earlier.. But I'd exchange none of it for my children."
"Nor would I," She immediately replies with. Then she stills slightly, "What realisations?"
"Hermione.. Don't be so blind."
"Please don't say it's me. I don't want to hurt your marriage, or your children. I don't even know why you think you're -"
"You know me better than anyone else. You can read my mind like it's a second nature. You can bring me out of the lowest of the low and make me the happy with a single smile. I-I don't know how you couldn't know."
She exhales sharply, and he realises that they're no longer dancing. "Harry, I -"
"I have to make myself not want you, otherwise you're all I think about."
Hermione steps back out of his grasp, staring at him. She shakes her head slowly, tears building in the beautiful brown eyes he had looked into so many times for inspiration, ideas, warmth and love.
"Three words. Eight Letters. Say it and I'm yours." The words come out of his mouth in a tumble, rapidly and yet perfectly coherent, and he looks out of breath afterwards.
"Harry! Hermione! There you are, I've been looking for you…" She trails off, noticing that something isn't right. "Hermione? Are you okay?"
"I-I was just telling Harry that I miss Ron, but I'll be okay. I just wish I had something like you and him." She watches as Ginny beams and Harry frowns. "I'm going to get going though, Hugo has to go back to school… I'll see you soon, though. Tell Teddy and Victoire that this is one of the best weddings I've been to in a long time, and I wish them all the happiness in the world." Her eyes stray to Harry as she says it, and there's something in her eyes that draws him in, but as quickly as its there, its gone.
She walks out then, and Ginny takes her place in his arms. No matter how he tries though, no matter how much convincing he does, no matter the years and months and decades, the fact still stands.
She's not Hermione.