Are there still such things as summer love? Do we still meet for the briefest of moments, and realize that maybe that person could be the one? Is it possible that we never realize that it is not love, but lust, that draws us together? The male half of the equation believes that maybe this one will be the one to allow him to have some relief. The female half believes that maybe this one could be there…forever.
And is there such a thing as love at first sight? Or is it in that realm of puppy love? Beautiful to us at the time…yet, so painful at the end. Where does love at first sight begin? Some could argue that it begins when you look at a person and realize "Maybe that's the one for me…". Others would argue that there is no such thing as love at first sight. They feel that you love them from the moment you begin a conversation with them. And then there are still those that think the whole concept is bollocks. And what of puppy love? Every person goes through a form of it. Sometimes it blossoms into something much more beautiful, fulfilling, and real. But when it ends…it is ugly. There are tears. Raw, unavoidable tears. The kind of tears that burn hot in the corners of the yes, burn deep in your throat, and do not stop. The tears of hate and unimaginable pain. Only later do we learn there is much worse pain than losing your first love.
I watch my daughter write an owl. Her motions are slow and precise. I watch her and I see myself at 16. Young, in love, and hiding it from everyone. I know by her motions and the wide smile on her face that she's writing her newest "love". I don't judge my daughter on who it may be. If she loves who I think it is, then there will be time for anger. There will also be time for everyone to learn to communicate and care for one another as easily as will be possible. Watching her in this moment I remember the moment I gave everything I had to the one man who belonged with me.
Finishing Hogwarts had been the only thing I could focus on after the War. So I finished school. I went back for my 7th year. Took my N.E.W.T.S. and scored as perfectly as "only Hermione Granger could". He teased me relentlessly about going back for months. I knew I never really needed to go back, not after helping fight. Yet I went back. I finished school and got a good job at the Ministry. It seemed the perfect place really. I was able to do what I loved the most…research and learn.
We are nineteen. He and Harry share a flat in Diagon Ally. I live in a small flat in Muggle London. It's closer to the Ministry. Diagon Ally is only a short distance away. I live alone on my own accord. There was never a need for a roommate. I never got on well with the girls at Hogwarts, and Ginny was still living at the Burrow. So here I stay…alone.
That's probably the only reason why my heart skipped a beat when he asked to come up.
We would be alone. There would be no roommates. No housemates. No Harry, or Ginny, or George, or Arthur, or Molly, or anyone else imaginable. We could block the Floo and just be alone. We could be young and in love. We could prove it to each other.
And we did…
My poor daughter has the smattering of her father's freckles. The poor girl has my hair, but his color. She looks like me except for her freckles. She is beautiful. It is no wonder that that young man fell for her.
Ron appears at my shoulder. He kisses my temple and watches our Rose tie her letter to her owl's leg. I catch the faintest hint of a name on the envelope.
Scorpius Malfoy
"Does that say…?"
"Yes, Ronald. Our daughter is in love with Draco's son. Let's let her be. It's getting late as it is. Come to bed. Show me you love me."
And in the briefest of moments, he does.
Short and sweet. My first kind of fluffy fic. Not sure how I should have placed this but I left it as Ron/Hermione. Enjoy…