A/N: I like to challenge myself with little writing exercises. This is one of my favorites: Tell a story in twenty-six sentences, using each letter of the alphabet consecutively. The challenges are 1) to make it a fully-realized idea, beginning to end, 2) to not use too many run on sentences, and 3) to make it flow. It was about time I did one for my favorite pairing, so here goes...
Ashes floated through the air and no matter her perspective of the fire, the hot embers managed to seek her out. Bonfires were notorious for that sort of mischief and Hermione Granger longed to use magic to counter the effect. Contrary to desire, wizard law strictly prohibited the use of her witchly powers in front of those not gifted with them. Down on the sands of the beach, couples lay sharing the warmth of the fire and the chill of the beers being passed around. Every person there was relaxed and happy except for Hermione.
Forgetting her reasons for joining this gathering, she surreptitiously circled the fire, peering into the gloom, and looking for another glimpse of a face she thought she knew. Guilt took hold of her senses, as it did every time she allowed herself to think about him.
He was there. It wasn't her eyes playing tricks or an overactive imagination. Just as she decided to make a move, he turned and caught sight of her stalking him. Kindness was never a sentiment that could have been attributed to him, and yet there was a new softness, an invitation in his eyes, as he motioned her to follow. Leaving the comforts of the fire and following him along the edge of the beach, Hermione waited for him to enlighten her. Mostly she waited just to hear his voice again. Nothing had ever had as much effect upon her heart as the sound of his voice.
Often, she had wished that the war had not gone the way it had. People had died who had so much to live for, including the man in front of her now, or so she thought. Quiet descended upon them as they settled into a deserted copse of trees where they could talk privately. Restless to hear his story, she forced herself to wait, knowing he would not appreciate badgering or hysterics. She was rewarded when his arms folded across his chest in a familiar gesture and he finally spoke.
Thankful for the chance to unburden herself, they talked of the outcome of the war and how his perceived death had been haunting her since. Understanding his reasons for letting the world believe he was gone, she knew not to try to convince him to return to that life. Vacillating between letting him go his own way and wanting to never let him go away again, she finally told him of all her hidden feelings toward him. When she was through, and she could see the shock of her words settling on his face, she bravely made her move. X-rated thoughts filled her mind as the kiss she forcefully began was returned with a hesitant passion she never believed she would encounter anywhere apart from her dreams.
Yesterday, the weight of loss was keeping her from realizing her full potential. Zest for life was returning today, with the acknowledgement that events of the war were not her responsibility, and what she felt was her greatest tragedy, had a chance to become an outstanding triumph.