Rubik's Cube
A/N: I haven't done fanfiction in a few years, I must admit I might be a little rusty. I've also never done anything for HP, but I've been really inspired lately and really back into HP. It's just a one-shot, but I hope it's still up to standards. This fic is more movie-based. I own nothing, these are J.K. Rowling's characters and ideas.
Summary: 10 years after the war & DH. The epilogue never happened. Harry is flooded with thoughts and moments that have never left him. H/Hr implied.
"I'm like a kid who just won't let it go, twisting and turning the colours in rows, I'm so intensified that's what it is. This is my Rubik's Cube, & all I can't figure it out" –
"I'll go with you"
How the words still echoed, even a decade later. Loyalty. Courage. Love. Things Harry Potter had never felt before his entrance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.
These were things he'd found in his first year through his best friends, The Golden Trio.
tTese three traits were unfailingly found in Hermione Granger. The only person he would ever meet that would be only too willing to die by his side for a war that didn't even hold any real relevance to her. She was willing to give up her entire future for him without a second thought.
He saw the pain in her eyes as he told her he was going to the forest. It was pain that still ached dully within him with every passing day… even a decade later.
"I'll go with you"
There had never been hesitation when she offered her life to him. Death would be inevitable for her if she accompanied him on this journey. She knew this. He knew this. Ron knew this too. The Dark Lord would never let her escape; not when he knew what she meant to Harry. So no, she couldn't go, he'd never forgive himself for her death. There was already enough blood on his hands.
He watched tears well in her eyes when she silently recognized he'd never voluntarily let her walk to her death. But she would. It was as easy as offering to run an errand with him when she offered up her life.
"I'll go with you"
Seven years at Hogwarts had given him many memories and friends he knew he'd never forget. Even those that were lost would forever be etched into his mind. Yet, few moments in his entire life would ever reach the magnitude of that final moment on the staircase with her.
Harry Potter knew at that moment he'd never meet anyone that would ever mean more to him than she did right then. He spent the first eleven years of his life with "family" that barely had the heart to offer him the proper rationing of food for a day; he now had a woman offering to follow him to death.
Ten years later he still pondered that moment. He still could vividly recall the pain passing from her straight into him as she launched herself into his arms. Certain rainy nights even made it easy to recall the scent of her hair covered in soot from battles she shouldn't have been fighting for him. He could still feel her arms wrapped around his neck as tears dripped onto his skin.
"I'll go with you"
It was like a rubik's cube that spanned a decade. He'd turned the memory in every which way. He thought about it from every angle, but confusion remained. He couldn't let it go. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't drop that moment from his mind. There was so many other moments, but none were every recalled so frequently. None made his heart lurch the way this one did.
"I'll go with you"
Ten years later the three of them meet once a year at a muggle restaurant in London. They meet on the anniversary of that night to recall the events of the past year. They never recall the war or the pain bestowed upon them at such a young age. It's a past they sometimes pretend doesn't exist. It's easier to try to forget the traumatic events of that night; it's easier to discuss the present that involves new jobs, spouses, children, and homes far away from each other.
He looks at her sometimes from his spot across the table, he still wonders if she can even remember offering up her life or if it was something done in the heat of the moment when his future was anything but certain.
She catches his stare when Ron is occupied talking to old acquaintances that they've run into on this particular year. A small smile graces her features as they make eye contact.
"Didn't realize it's been ten years since school ended already," Ron comments this as he turns his attention back to the table.
"I miss it sometimes," she answers while averting her gaze from either boy.
"I'll go with you"
"We had a lot of good memories… it really is a shame we don't see each other more often," Harry feels lame about this answer. It's not as impactful as he'd wanted.
"Agreed. Be right back."
She exhales as Ron takes his leave from their table, "do you ever think about it?"
"Almost every single day, Hermione," he answers without having to ask what she's referring to. The war is a topic that's very rarely broached at their annual dinners. It is often they force light and un-meaningful conversation in an attempt to avoid such painful subjects that would only dampen the mood. They simply don't see each other enough to focus on such depressing memories.
"Do you ever wish you'd done things differently, Harry?"
"Do you?" he's quick to counter her question.
She meets his eyes again and in the lighting of the restaurant he swears he sees a flicker of the pain he left behind on the staircase that night. Her mouth opens with an answer, but closes slowly as Ron rejoins them once more.
"Right. I'll go get us a few more drinks then?" the dark-haired boy offers. He stands to walk to the bar, but four simple words stop him in his tracks.
"I'll go with you," she speaks from behind.
He hopes and prays she can't see the way his back tenses up at her words. He never thought he'd hear those words from her again. Though the context is much less dramatic they still make his breath catch in his chest.
Ten years later and those four words still echoed. He watched her walk by him, her hair flowing behind her as she went. She glanced back at him slowly, but still he stood frozen to his spot.
His eyes communicated the only question he could formulate – "why?"
Ten years later was too late to wonder what might've been. She threw a sad smile over her shoulder trying to tell him everything she knew she couldn't.
"I'll go with you"