The Engagement Party

Party Pooped

25 August 2004, The Burrow

The guests had been partying for a good forty-five minutes or longer. Various drinks and canapés were being consumed with gusto; even granting that Molly Weasley had her share of shortcomings, no one would ever class her cooking as one. Everyone seemed in peculiarly high spirits, far more than the end of summer would warrant. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, in particular seemed to positively glow.

Then, Ron cast a cannon blast charm. The silenced company all focused their attention on him. The tall, red-haired wizard had a cat-that-ate-the-canary look to his face. The bushy-haired witch at his side looked much the same.

"Your attention all," as Ron seemingly channeled more that a hint of his brother Percy's fulsomeness, "and thank you for being here today. As some of you know, there's more afoot than just our traditional end of summer party. I, we," looking at his companion, "have an announcement!" Their company leaned in, on tenterhooks.

"Me and Hermione have dated for over five years. We've actually become rather close." The onlookers loosed a mild wave of merriment at this somewhat uncharacteristic bit of wit. "Three weeks ago, I entreated her to become a Weasley. . ."

"And I said Yes, yes, yes!" Squealed the brightest witch Britain had seen since a certain Lily Marie Evans Potter. Her face left none in doubt of the joy that prompted this hitherto uncharacteristic outburst from her. She waved her wand, canceling the notice-me-not charm on the overhead banner reading 'Congratulations, Hermione and Ron'.

Even those in on the ill-kept secret were on their feet in wild applause, as the engaged couple shared a passionate kiss. The acclamation continued, as Hermione joyously waved her left hand, displaying the rather extravagant ring. When the approbation faded, Ron raised his hand.

"Of course we both hope you'll share our joy next June. But now we've a special request for our best friend. Harry, mate, come up here. We'd like you by our side, now and in June, standing with us as our bes. . ."

Just then, everyone froze. Several looked to fall down, but were levitated instead. Once they were all stable, the couple were ensconced in a conjured love seat, facing the rest. Several sets of risers were conjured, the tables and chairs appeared and the guests were seated there.

The effect was that of an amphitheatre, with the happy (one still assumed) betrothed pair in the spotlight. Suddenly, the wizard they'd called out to stand by them was standing behind them.

Harry's face carried a scarcely to be credited mélange of emotions. A distinct undercurrent of self-loathing, overlain by melancholy, resignation and resolve seemed to them to highlight this cocktail. He faced Ron and Hermione after giving the audience a good look, and gave them one too.

When Harry addressed them, his voice entirely reflect his mien. "I can't and won't apologize to you for having captured your attention in this way. I expect that you'll find plenty more reasons to hate and despise me before I'm done.

"I know that Hermione for one is wondering about this spell. It is an interesting bit of magic, a variant of the stasis spell, slowing your physical reactions, while your mind remains fully active. I ran across it in the Black library, when I researched, pondered and eventually rejected the ministry's offer to become an Auror.

Yes! I know you're all shocked, since I have the reputation of bare academic adequacy, even by my closest acquaintances. You all drank Snape's Kool-Aid and my own protective camouflage. Being beaten and starved for getting better marks than Dudley was no incentive to display my smarts. Anyone looking at the publicly available records for Hogwarts would see I was in the top ten in my class every year. I finished number six of all those in the 1991 cohort who attended seven years. But back to business.

"First, anyone who thought I'd be surprised by all of this, I'm disappointed in you. If it were to be a secret, telling it to Rita would have worked better. Neville told me, though I doubt he remembers. Hannah, you married him, but you've got to find a potion to keep him sober, or better yet, cut him off entirely! He was three sheets to the wind after only a half shot of Ogden's! Won't work at all for a publican's spouse. Ron, Hermione, shame on you both for trying to set me up.

"By now, you've sussed out that my reply is no." He gave a brief bark of what might've been laughter, but wasn't. "Among other things, my conscience vetoes the idea. When I finish, Hermione, and you comprehend the scope of my betrayal to you, you wouldn't want me closer than a light year anyway.

"This is my story, the account none of you know, that I don't want to tell, but must if you're to understand me and understand today." All the while Harry was in motion, as if he couldn't stand still. He paced in front of the party-goers, scanning their faces, then turning to the engaged couple and staring at their faces.

"By 1 November 1991, I had made two friends, my first two friends ever. Dudley never allowed me to make any before Hogwarts, but he and his gang weren't there. In hindsight, you and he would be the first friends, and in many respects you're the only ones to see just Harry, not the imaginary person our world viewed and still views me as. Our adventures that year made those bonds ironclad, at least for me, at least for then.

"Our second year confirmed that bond. All the drek I went through was cushioned by your standing by me. Hermione, when you were petrified, my entire world dropped into the abyss. I realized then how much your friendship meant to me. I was only allowed to see you a couple of times and I accept that you knew nothing whilst petrified. I still felt guilty that I didn't find a way to visit you, even so.

"Still, I talked to you for hours at a time in my head. I told you all about my life, how I viewed myself, warts and all. In my head, you accepted everything and accepted me, gave me good advice, kept my spirits up. When it was all over and you hugged me in the Great Hall, I felt like my true life started again. Looking back, I know now that that moment held my first betrayal of our friendship. It was then I first started to fall in love with you."

EP –

"You have to understand, I didn't realize it then. What I did know was that I'd missed you more than I'd have ever missed Ron. I knew I'd never have had those internal conversations with him, on any subject. I knew that his return would never have affected me as deeply.

"Somewhere and somehow, I knew I wasn't just because he was a boy. It's hard to explain, I can't really put it in words. Damn the Dursleys, may they burn for eternity! They couldn't beat and starve the magic out of me, but they sure as Hell left me ignorant of love! By the time I could figure things out on my own, those feelings meant I betrayed you, and in the worst way I can imagine.

"Our third year was a turning point for me. There were the first cracks in my friendship with Ron. A damned stress-filled year, and the first year I kenned that my life was filled with secrets that many knew and few or none were willing to share with me. I'll not insult anyone here by going through the list, seeing as I deem a number of you guilty of this.

"Hermione, my reaction to the Firebolt incident was the first betrayal of our friendship that I recognized as such, though it still took me a while to work it out. Maybe I was too immature not to react as I did, but I don't see that as absolving me. My second betrayal, not supporting you when Ron exploded about the rat is more of the same. I suppose that lack of support for you when you were so distressed because of your course load counts as a third betrayal. Some Golden Boy, some hero, right.?"

Were they able to move, the depth and corrosiveness of self-disgust in his voice would have caused them to flinch. But it all had to be inside their heads and the sympathetic pain had no outlet.

"The night we rescued Sirius, that was the first time that just we two had an adventure. It remains the single greatest night of my life. Forget that we were prompted by Dumbledore, I think you'd have worked it out by yourself regardless. That night, you embodied the best of all the houses at Hogwarts. I still weep in amazement when I think back on it; I was amazed and humbled to be able to call you my best friend, to know you'd thought of my as your best friend. Yep, it all goes down the drain today, but I'll still cherish that night.

"By the time we returned to the hospital wing, I knew too that something changed forever in me that night. I would still be clueless about what it was; yet I knew my concept of Hermione Jean Granger was richer and deeper, somehow."

EP –

For long minutes Harry squatted, halfway between the throng and the couple. His hands pushed hard against the ground, palms flat; he seemingly tried to find and pull strength from the earth itself. He proved no Antaeus though; rising, Harry appeared more haggard, upset and distraught. He faced them, drawing and releasing an unsuccessful cleansing breath.

"Fourth year. Fourth year. Sweet Merlin, what can I tell you?! World Cup, TriWizard, Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, wherever do I start? With none of those, I guess." Turning, he moved in front of Hermione, and dropped to his knees.

"The only reason I lived through that year is you and your unwillingness to leave my corner. I finished the year alive and functional solely due to you. Yes, I own you my life and sanity. You did so not without cost; I hated, still hate the undeserved indignities that were heaped upon you. I wish with all my being that you had gotten more back from me by way of support. A million thanks would only be a first drop in the bucket for what I owed to you.

"And as for you, Bilius," Harry moved to Ron's ear away from Hermione. The pure venomous hatred in his voice was breathtaking. "our friendship ended that Halloween night, permanently, totally, irrevocably. You were jealous, not of Harry Potter, but the Boy-Who-Lived, and You. Knew. Better! You, one of the only two people in existence whom I never doubted; You. Knew. Better! Your treason lost me to you, and you never got me back.

"You think that pathetic, half-hearted excuse for an apology after the first task squared us? You were way too little, way too late. You were already dead to me, and you were no better than Malfoy. Why didn't I beat you to a pulp as I should have? Least important reason was I need more dumping on me like I needed that Hungarian Horntail.

"The real reason," and here again he knelt before the witch "was you, Hermione. I was stunned, dazed and mostly reactive all that year, but I wasn't so far gone as to have ever given you the pain that a break with him would have caused to you. I would have rather the dragon roasted and ate me, than hurt you like that."

EP –

"What could ever have been worse than my fourth year?" Harry's question was rhetorical, his tone shouted it. "Oh, yes. My fifth year; from the moment I got off the Express, through to the time Dumbledore told me that thrice-damned prophecy, four years too late. Your hug and kiss on my cheek at the platform, June 1995 was my sole high point, the bottom dropped out right after that.

"Hermione did all she could and yes, she kept me going. I listened and she gave me the courage to do the right thing. The Defense Association was a highlight, but the same right thing got me physically tortured by Umbridge and mentally raped by Snape. That doesn't reckon the emotional battering by Dumbledore, who I thought was my mentor, the more fool I. It wasn't ever her fault and I never thought it was. The truth of the matter is that the entire Ministry and much of the staff were against me that year, and so I was in for Hell, despite my best efforts, or her best efforts, or anyone's best efforts.

"With all my being, I wish I'd listened to you after the History O.W.L, after we dealt with Umbridge. For that matter, I wish one of us had remembered the mirror – that's on me. If I'd listened to you, we would have never gone to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius might never have died.

"More than that, you'd have not been cursed by Dolohov. You see, when you nearly died, my life ended. It was only when Neville found your pulse that I came alive again. And only then did I realize that my feelings for you were love, complete, irrevocable, imperishable. When Voldemort possessed me, yes, it was my capacity to love that evicted him. But it wasn't a general love for justice, or of Britain, or of anything beyond my now realized love for you, to keep you safe, protected, whole.

"I curse Dumbledore to the lowest Hell for keeping me from you whist you healed. I so wanted to see you and comfort you. I wanted nothing less than to confess to you my love, in the hope that perhaps you felt the like for me. But, by the time the manipulative bastard got out of my way, I'd missed the boat. Was telling you, Hermione, and the other four the Prophecy the right thing to do? Yes, yet it pushed you away too."

EP –

Harry stood, stretched looked at the rest. The could immediately see that another layer of dolorous emotion had settled upon his psyche. Defeat. Most of them, but not quite all, knew him since he'd turned eleven; they never had seen defeat in him, never. With that, he'd ceased to be Harry James Potter; who he was now they hadn't a clue.

"By the time I was sprung to the Burrow, it was too late. There was too much drama with Bill and Fleur. By the time it was understood and worked out, it was clear that Hermione wanted to move on, that something changed. I fancy that she wanted to be herself, Hermione Jean Granger, and not just 'Harry's best friend'. My gut told me that to open myself to her would not be welcome, would cause an explosion, might even end our friendship.

"I couldn't, wouldn't dare that. Loving her, I knew all I could do was to support her, rejoice in her becoming herself. It wasn't an act. I found I was, in fact, happy for her. Even thought I felt I betrayed our friendship by falling in love, I was true to my love for her.

"When we got to Hogwarts, it was even more evident that she wanted, needed a vacation from me, from my destiny. As I became ever more serious about the war, about fighting it in my school, preparing to fight the fight outside as well, you" here he turned to Hermione, and gave her a full, if non-intentional dose of his feelings of defeat "made it clear you would not share or help me. You never listened to me or my suspicions, my fears. That was OK.

"I swallowed my hatred for Bilius went it became clear you had set your cap at him. I beat it as far to death as I could. I resolved to aid you, if I could. My heart soared when you came to me, crushed, when Bilius started in with Lavender. Not because of your distress, but that you still thought enough of me to want and to need my comfort. I gave it to you, willingly, gladly.

"Ginny, I guess I ought to say something about our little fling. I tried to take a page from Hermione's book and see if I could grow beyond who I was. Didn't work. Our few weeks were nice, it made me feel about as normal as this Freak could ever have felt. But my feelings for Hermione ensured it couldn't be anything more. To the extent I hurt you, I'm sorry. I'm glad you and Dean found each other again after the War, you are a good pair.

"Had I not wanted her to be happy, which meant for her to be with you, Bilius, I would have gladly let that poisoned mead kill you. For me, that bezoar saved the person she fancied, not you. When you two became a couple, you had my support, even joy because she was over the moon, even if you were still an idiot about it.

"In hindsight, I feel little for Dumbledore's death. I feel he was, in his own way, nearly as much a foe as Voldemort. In life, in death, his refusal to think anyone should have the full story; in his hubris that only he knew what others needed to know; and when and in what manner that knowledge was to be disclosed, drew things out too far. So many would be alive right now, had he been more forthcoming. So many more would be whole, physically, emotionally, magically had he been candid. For me, the only plus was that Hermione was willing to support me again.

EP –

"The year of the Quest. Again, without Hermione's brains and bravery we'd have lost. I'll never cease to be grateful for that. Thank you, Hermione, I would have been dead without you, more times than I can count.

"As for you, Bilius, without her shield you would never have left the tent alive the night you showed yourself as the cowardly traitor that you are. Yes, bastard, I was ready to kill you, not only for my own feelings, but you'd have spilled everything to Voldemort, had you been caught. When you returned you told us about nearly being captured. What was in your head would have doomed us.

"Hermione, when you told us you chose to stay, I exalted. Not only in that I was sure to fail had you left, but because you and I would be together, even though I could never share my feelings. For a time, I hoped that you meant you chose me for more than the duration. When he came back and you forgave him, I knew that was a pipe dream. Despite all, I did all I could to help you and him cleave together.

"Well, we won the Battle, won the War and you won the guy. Since then, I've supported you, done everything either of you called on me to do; all to aid and enrich your life with Ron. Right up to today."

EP –

Harry looked around, strove to regather himself once more. He gave the appearance of calm, but he fooled no one. Still the self-loathing, the despair, the defeat. "So, what of today? I'll surprise the lot of you; I didn't really know what I would do when I woke today.

"I considered not coming at all. I thought I might come, show myself and put on my cloak to observe. I entertained the idea of just coming with my cloak on and watch. I even pondered if I should just do what my friendship and love for Hermione demanded of me, come here and once more do what everyone expects Harry Potter, member of the troika to do.

"As much as that duty called to me, I found that the truth called loudest and most persistently. So, maybe I was wrong; my highest duty to you, Hermione might be to tell you the truth, come what may. Even though it didn't and still doesn't feel that way in my heart.

"I had a vision. If I stayed, became the best man, I'd be joined to you and Bilius for life. Ten months of helping you plan the wedding, doing the lion's share of what he should be doing; you know he'll skive off everything he can, every single chance he can. And I'd do more than my share; you know you could trust me to do more than he would. Planning and enduring the bachelor party. Then the wedding itself. Squiring about the maid of honour, Ginny more than likely, and pretending to enjoy it. Toasting your happiness and seeing you off for the honeymoon I'd have planned for him, so you would be certain to be thrilled. Pit bossing the cleanup.

"We'll live what, another 125, 150 fifty years? I'd have to hear his boasting about how good you are in bed and how much of a man he is to you." Laughter, as sour as verjuice. "Already had four years of how good you kiss, how hot you make him, how hot he makes you.

I'll have to listen to both of you decompress when you row; over any and everything, most importantly over how big a family you'll have and should you be more than a housewife. Have the two of you even worked that out yet? I'll be 'Uncle Harry' to your children and a godfather to the first. Their babysitter, along with the grandparents, since I never will have a wife or family.

"You'll keep 'helping' me by setting me up with nice witches and giving out your semi-stout declarations that I'm not a wizard's wizard. Oh yes, I hear that too. Some of you can hook up casually, thank Merlin that's not me. I can't imagine intimacy, let alone marriage, with anyone who had not the first place in my heart. I hope I never would sink to that.

"I know as we grew older together you'll insist we live close, if not together. And then, our deaths. Potter Luck demands that I die last; so it's me who'll be the chief mourner, who will give the eulogy, who supports the widow or widower. And then, finally, I'll die; Harry Potter the great, powerful and famous wizard, in the eyes of the hoi polloi. In reality, Harry Potter, the Freak. The man whom no one ever loved for himself.

I couldn't do it, I was too much the selfish weakling."

EP –

He squatted again. Eyes downcast, shoulders shaking to sobs he could not ever vocalize. An eternity later, he rose and stood behind the happy couple.

"So it goes. My arrangements, already made. You'll be released five minutes after I leave. By then I'll be long gone. I won't be found by the likes of any of you. I speak a dozen languages fluently. My disguises are impenetrable.

"A couple final goodbyes." He walked to one of the tables and stopped by Bill and Fleur's daughter. Gently, he picked her up cradling her in his arms. "I will miss you, Victoire. You're the Veela I care for the most. Have a wonderful life." Replacing her, he walked to another table. "Luna, if there were space in my heart for another, you would have that." He kissed his own hand, then laid it on one of hers. "This, on your cheek."

Slowly, he walked to the loveseat. Facing Hermione, he knelt, found her eyes. "You can have nothing in your heart for me now, save hatred and disgust. I wish it were not so, but I know it is. I'll never darken your existence again." Rising, he kissed his hand and covered one of hers with it. "This, on your lips. You have my full heart, world without end."

Turning, he called out, "Kreacher!" The elf came and took his hand. "Engage!" With a muted crack, they exited.

A/N: The idea of Harry being asked to be Ron and Hermione's Best Man, while hiding his love for her is not new. I've read a number of stories by various writers on this theme. I have, though, gone off on what I hope is a unique tangent.

I deny that Harry is OOC here. He is more observant, puts emotions and relationships together better than in canon, yes. But he does put things together in canon, far better than fanon likes to admit. He did better in school than fanon credits him as well. I think it's no terrible stretch to credit him with realizing these insights, given the time to make them. In canon, it would have taken just a bit more leisure than he got.

There are a couple of allusions to Arthur Conan Doyle's books, The White Company and Sir Nigel.

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Posted: 03/29/2018

Words: 4,268