Something to Look Forward To
A/N-A huge thank you to the invaluable advice and beta work of keppiehed. She is the best! If you haven't read her stuff, what are you waiting for? You must do that straight away.
It was hard to believe nine months had passed since the final battle at Hogwarts, which had ended Voldemort's reign of terror. The heroes of the war were treated as such, getting showered with praise and other accolades on a regular basis. They all understood the need people had to extend their gratitude, so they accepted it with grace, all the while wishing everyone understood their need for space. It was Molly Weasley who suggested that once a month the members of the Order of the Phoenix, and anyone else instrumental in the war, should gather together—a support group of sorts. Always the proverbial hostess, she opened her home and her kitchen to them. There were no cameras and no interviews. They were just a group of people who wanted a chance to be themselves, celebrate their freedom, and remember those whom they'd lost—without the glitz and glamor the public demanded on a daily basis.
The sun was just setting when Harry found Hermione alone on the back porch of the Burrow. She startled as he took a seat on the bench beside her.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Nothing, really," she replied.
"You looked awfully far away just now to be thinking about nothing," he said.
"Well, yes, that's the beauty of these gatherings. I can just lose myself in the moment without wondering who's watching and what they're thinking of me."
Harry understood exactly how she felt and was pleased that she got as much out of these evenings as he did. He smiled at her. She loved that smile—the one he'd always used before his life became a constant photo shoot.
"Can I ask you a question, Hermione?" Harry said.
"Of course you can." She smiled at him.
"If you could date anyone at this party, who would it be?"
"What?" she cried, hitting him playfully on the arm. "You can't ask someone that."
"I'm serious," he said, though he was laughing. "Who would you choose?"
She thought for a bit, unsure of how to answer his question. She replied tentatively, "What would you do if I said it was you?"
"Well," he said, this time entirely serious, "I suppose I'd kiss you."
She was taken aback by his answer. "Oh," was all she could manage to say. They sat in silence for only a moment before she spoke. "What was the question, again?" she asked.
"If you could date anyone at this party, who would you choose?"
"You," she replied, her voice soft, but full of conviction.
Their eyes met, and there was no longer a need for words. He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes, readying herself for the glorious impact. His kiss held the comfort of the friend he had always been and the passion of the lover he would become. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, her head resting on his shoulder.
"This wasn't awkward like I'd imagined it would be," he said.
"You've thought about this?" she asked.
"Every day," he said.
They walked away from the house hand-in-hand, away from the place where anyone existed except themselves. There were no words exchanged, and the silence was comfortable. They paused when they reached a spot where the only light was from the stars, and the only sounds were from crickets and the beating of their hearts.
"Do you want to hear mine?" she asked.
"Er ... yeah. Of course I do," he said. He'd been so focused on drinking in the sight of her he supposed he'd missed the start of the question. It was obvious to Hermione he'd been a thousand miles away just then.
"The way I'd imagined our first kiss. Do you want to know?" she asked.
If he was surprised that she had considered this too, he hid it well. He nodded for her to continue.
"The scenario in my head changes from time to time, but it always involves dancing. After we share our first dance, we share our first kiss," she explained. "That part is always the same."
"We've been together for less than an hour, and I've already blown it," he laughed.. "Still, I'd be honored if you'd dance with me."
"Here? Now?" she asked.
"Why not?" he said.
"Well, there isn't any music and—" He put a finger to her lips to silence her, then leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Do you want to know a secret?"
She shivered from the closeness, his breath on her ear. She nodded.
"I can do magic," he said.
Wordlessly, he waved his wand at a nearby rock.
"Oh, but there's a certain song … "
The music started, and she knew with the first couple of notes that he'd gotten it right.
"How did you know?" she whispered.
"Anything that is important to you is important to me," he said. "I've picked up on lots of little things about you."
"Like what?" she asked.
"Hermione, when you heard this song in your daydreams were we dancing to it or talking through it?"
She rolled her eyes at him, but took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her into a tight embrace. They swayed to the music, her hand alighted on his neck and she ran her fingers through the hair on his nape while he rubbed circles on her back. The image in her mind didn't hold a candle to the real thing.
It took a minute for them to realize the music had stopped before Harry released her from his arms. He worked to restart the music so it would continue to play. When he turned back to Hermione, he found her casting a cushioning charm on the ground.
"Surprise," she giggled. "I can do magic, too."
"It's like we were meant to be together," he teased.
Hermione squealed as he scooped her up in his arms.
"Harry James Potter, put me down!" she said.
He lowered her onto the blanket, following her down until they were lying side-by-side. They held hands, gazing at the stars and enjoying the serenity of being surrounded by nature.
"In response to your earlier question, I've noticed lots of things, but I'll tell you one of my favorites. I know that your shift at St. Mungo's ends at seven o'clock, but you won't leave for the night until you've made sure every child in the building has finished his or her homework."
"Well, they shouldn't fall behind just because they are sick,"she replied.
"Yes, but when they leave the hospital and return to school, they'll be three months ahead of the other students. It's like you're breeding your own little army of Hermione Grangers."
Harry rolled on his side and grinned at her. When he leaned in to kiss her, he noticed the slightest hint of tears in her eyes.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
"No, Harry. I was just thinking about Professor Snape."
"Well, there's some irony for you." He sighed and rolled away onto his back.
"No, it's not like that." She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. "I just wish he was still around."
"I understand, Hermione," he whispered. "Knowing what I know now, I often wonder if we couldn't have become friends eventually."
"That's sweet, Harry." She squeezed his hand. "You're a much better person than I am,"she said.
He looked at her, confusion written on his face. She smiled.
"I just wanted to be able to see his face on the first day of school when my whole army of Hermione Grangers was filling the first row of his classroom."
They laughed. Really laughed for once, like normal teenagers. The carefree feeling borne of their uninhibited emotion was like balm for the soul. They carried on until they had tears in their eyes and aches in their sides. Neither had remembered how good it felt to just let go.
After a while, Harry broke the silence. "It's such a clear night, the stars look like they go on forever."
"That's because they do," she said. "You know, Harry, the—"
"Hermione," he said, "we probably ought to start heading back before we're missed. I'd hate for anyone to ruin their evening worrying about us."
She smiled. "That's exactly what I was going to say."
Rather than looking pleased that they were already thinking alike, he looked a bit sheepish.
"What's with that face?" she asked.
"Don't be mad, ok? When I cut you off just now ... well, I thought you were going to start in on an Astronomy lesson."
Hermione's pathetic attempt to make an angry face at him set him off again, and she couldn't help but laugh along. Harry was relieved that stepping into the waters of an adult relationship had not drowned their childhood friendship.
The wind picked up, and there was a chill in the air. Harry saw Hermione shiver, and removed his jacket to drape around her shoulders. He knew he could just as easily use magic, but the Muggle way somehow seemed so much more fitting. His sacrifice was worth it as the smile of gratitude on her face warmed him from head to toe.
As they stood up and stretched, he realized that gratitude wasn't keeping the goosebumps off his arms. He cast a warming charm on himself—silently, so as not to ruin the effect of his previous chivalry.
She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers. They made their way back to the Burrow, each content with the knowledge that when this evening ended, they'd not have to wait a month for something to look forward to.
