Losing Her
An: Hello, fabulous readers! As I'm bored and this little old plot bunny keeps screaming at me to make it real, I've decided to write (gasp) yet another Harmony fanfiction! Who would have known?! Anyways, enjoy.
Harry's eyes were fixed on Hermione, despite the whirl of activity around him. He ignored the excited murmurs of everyone else in the room and only paid mind to the gentle curve of her mouth as she spoke and laughed with the others, even though he didn't hear what she said. She's beautiful, he thought wistfully, and this time, he didn't even bother to block out the thought, even though he knew it was wrong of him to be thinking of her that way. And she was. Beautiful, in a long white gown, he curls in a fancy braided knot, loops of silver curling in the updo, a veil connected to the silver strands, for it was her wedding day. She would be marrying their best friend, Ron.
Harry felt a pang of old jealousy, and then familiar numbness at this agonizing thought. Ron had gotten her, fair and square, and now it was their wedding day, and Harry could do nothing about it, or rather, wouldn't. He loved Hermione, always had, and it killed him to see her marrying what he thought of as the wrong man, but both were still also his best mates, and he would not risk their friendship over his own selfish desires. So he had plastered on a fake smile ever since Ron and Hermione had gotten together, pretending to be pleased about their relationship as was expected of him, while entwined with Ginny, also as was expected. And now he was Ron's Best Man, as it was the outlined course of things, even thought it was a sadistic torture for him to be there seeing the only woman he had ever loved marry someone else, when he would much rather be at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry's new home, downing firewhiskey and screaming at the world. However, he would have to hide this animalistic behavior and just keep smiling. It was almost second nature to him now.
It was almost time for Hermione to walk down the aisle. Ginny squeezed Harry's arm as she passed him. He smiled down at her, hardly noticing her. It had become second nature, after all. Ron was probably already at the altar, and Harry knew he should be heading up there now, but he couldn't move, couldn't just leave. He fought against his promise he had made beforehand to himself, and decided to have one last talk to Hermione Granger, his best friend of nearly a decade, before she became Hermione Weasley and was gone forever, forever out of his reach.
He cleared his throat, and Hermione and all her bridesmaids turned to look at him. They looked all alike, with happy expressions, much unlike his mood. He got out, "I know it's almost time for the ceremony to start, but, would you mind if I had a quick talk with Hermione?"
Hermione looked surprised at the request, her eyes bright and round, but she nodded, smiling brightly. Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically, but herded the other bridesmaids out of the room to get ready to start the ceremony. As she passed the pair, she hissed, "Five minutes, you two!" However, her eyes were joking, and she was grinning. Harry nodded curtly, and Ginny's smile faded ever so slightly. She glanced quickly between Hermione and Harry and the left.
Hermione turned to look at Harry, and her smile grew shyer. She did a slow turn in front of him before saying, "I never got your opinion, Harry. So…what do you think?"
She looked beautiful, of course.
"You look amazing, Hermione. Truly." He said this with a smile that showed no teeth; he was too busy clamping them together to keep from saying how truly beautiful he thought she was.
She blushed at the compliment, biting her lip, before saying, "Do you think…do you think Ron will like it?"
Of course she was thinking about Ron. Harry forced his smile back on after it faded for a microsecond, his face as smooth as a mask. "Of course he will, Hermione." She beamed, and without thinking, such was his heart flutters at having her smile at him, he blurted out, "You look so lovely."
He could have hit himself. She frowned slightly, and then smiled again, a small, coy half smile. "Thank you." She turned back to the mirror, fixing an earring. Her dress showed her shoulders and her neck clearly, and he so wanted to put his arms around her shoulders, and kiss her neck…with a start, he pushed these thoughts out of his head. No use thinking them now.
It was quiet for what seemed like forever, Hermione waiting politely confused for Harry to say what he wanted, and Harry too heart sore to say anything. Ginny poked her head in, and hissed, "Are you guys done? Harry, you'd better get to the altar, and Hermione, you'd better get in here!"
Harry turned to his girlfriend, and gave a small smile. "Just a second, Gin?"
Ginny huffed, but closed the door.
Hermione stepped off of the small platform set in front of the mirror, and gathered up her skirt with one hand, and anxiously patted her hair with the other. "We'd best hurry to our spots, Harry," She said breathlessly, her eyes bright with excitement.
Just as she was about to pass Harry, he grabbed her wrist, and whispered, "Congratulations, Hermione. Truly."
She turned to him, her eyes brimmed with happy tears. "Oh, Harry," She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly before pecking him quickly on the cheek. The flesh where her lips touched was very warm, even though Harry was already blushing. She smiled at him, and for a second, he forgot the circumstances that was making her smile, and instead concentrated on committing the smile he had taken for granted for years to memory. She started for the door, and just before she left the room, he called out quietly, "Ron's a lucky man."
She turned, and for a moment, for just a moment, Harry hoped perhaps she'd understood the depth of his feelings, and maybe, just maybe, against everything, she'd return them. But then, the moment was broken, as she smiled, mouthed, thanks, and was gone.
She didn't get it. Of course she didn't. Harry had failed.
He made his way to the altar, where he made some excuse up to Ron's inquiry as to where he'd been, hardly noting Ron's excited face in his bitter feelings that it should be him up on the altar, waiting for Hermione to become his wife.
The ceremony passed in a blur as Harry cursed his misplaced love. He knew he ought to be happy for the couple, or at least Hermione, but he couldn't be. He loved her too much. Whoever had said that if you love something, let it go must have been stone drunk on firewhiskey, because it was bullshit.
When it came time for Ron to kiss his new bride and seal the marriage, Harry looked away.
Soon, it was the reception. He mostly skulked near the back of the tent, save for a few dances with Ginny, as was expected. He did dance once with Hermione, and it was the closest to heaven he'd knew he'd ever get, so he savored the unbearably short moment before she was reclaimed by Ron. Harry backed away as the new couple beamed happily at each other and whirled away, gone gone gone, blissfully, and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He hurried off to the small thicket of forest beside the tent and leaned against a tree, and, without meaning to, began sobbing, the type of sobs that rack your body, that just sort of erupt and make it to where you can't breathe. Harry wished he'd lose his breath forever, because she was gone now. She would never, ever be his, and he hated himself for it.
He wasn't sure how long it was before he heard a raspy voice say, "…Potter?"
Harry scrambled up, wiping his eyes hurriedly, and found himself face to face with Snape. Harry gaped at him. He knew he had been invited to the wedding, but he hadn't known he had accepted the invitation. Harry had not seen him in years, not since, after the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd been found alive, though only just, and had been healed. He looked much older in the span of just a few years. Harry could see the scars on his neck where Nagini had attacked him, and he wondered briefly if the students of Hogwarts still found him a 'git'. He wasn't sure. Snape's eyes no longer looked filled with malice, only deep sadness and tiredness. Of course, they could have been that way the whole time, and Harry had just noticed it because he had finally found the truth of why Snape was the way he was.
Snape edged closer to Harry, and peered at him for a while. Harry squirmed under his gaze for a bit, and finally, Snape said knowingly, "This is about Miss Granger, correct?"
Harry put his head down. He didn't know how Snape knew, and he didn't know what to say, so he just said, "It's Mrs. Weasley now."
Snape nodded as if Harry had confirmed something. He didn't say anything for a moment, but edged closer. Harry hardly noticed.
"You love her?"
"Huh?" Harry was taken by surprise by the question.
Snape just gazed at Harry as if he had never seen him before.
Harry felt fresh tears fall down his face as he hung his head.
"…yes." There was no sense denying it. A sob escaped him, and soon, against his will, he was sobbing again, right in front of Snape.
There was a long moment of silence, and then, to his utter astonishment, he felt Snape's arm around his shoulders, his other arm offering him a handkerchief. Snape's arm was rigid, but it was around Harry's shoulders. Harry had thought his former professor incapable of such an act, yet there he was, an arm around Harry, of all people. Harry stared up at Snape in astonishment.
He saw Snape looking off into the distance. Harry was astonished to see a single tear drop from his impenetrable black eye. As if knowing Harry was wondering at his motive, he simply said, without looking down at Harry, "I too know the feeling of loving someone who will never be mine."
And so, the two heart sore men cried, practically embracing, sorrow overtaking any sense of misplaced pride, both seeing in their mind's eye the face of the only women that had even held their heart.
Fin.
