AN: So this is a scene that I sort of stole from an episode of the TV show, Bones. I also stole two lines of dialogue from the episode as well. Otherwise this is entirely mine. Hope you enjoy it.
Summary: In which Hermione comforts Harry after his relationship with Ginny ends messily. Not epilogue compliant.
Expectations
It was a muggle pub, something which shouldn't have surprised Hermione, but did. After all, if Harry was going to drown his heartbreak in alcohol, the best place to do so without a gathering of the curious or hero-worshipping wizarding public was in the muggle world.
Peering through the glass fronted doors, Hermione could see that it was brighter inside than she expected, the walls stained a warm tea brown; coloring that also extended to the surprisingly well kept, polished floors.
A long curving bar stood in the middle of the large room, while small groupings of tables were scattered around the room, with booths for larger parties ringing the walls. Lamps hung from the ceilings, providing the right amount of light without seeming too bright. In all the place felt cozy and welcoming.
Hermione however, barely noticed any of it. Her focus was on the lone figure sitting at the curved end of the bar. From where she stood, Hermione could see several empty shot glasses ringed in front of the man, with a larger tumbler of amber liquid sitting near his left hand.
She watched as the bartender came over, filling the empty shot glasses with what looked like a darker liquid than was in the tumbler. Letting go of a deep breath, Hermione pulled the door open and stepped inside, pausing just inside the door to study Harry's profile.
His jaw was clenched, pulsing at the edges as if he were gnashing his teeth. Which, she supposed was probably true. Taking another steadying breath, Hermione moved further into the room, towards the bar until she stood just behind him. She wondered for a brief moment if her presence would be welcome, but she dismissed the idea, knowing that right now he needed a friend, even if he tried to get her to leave.
"Are you drunk?" she asked him quietly, slipping onto the empty barstool beside him. Up close she could see the sorrow etched into his features. The deep sadness pooled in his green eyes, the defeat that was pouring off him in waves. It broke her heart to see him this way. Not for the first time in their long friendship, Hermione wished she knew how to fix it all and make it right again, so that at least some of his burdens were lifted.
His gaze when he turned to her was more haunting full on then the partial glimpse she'd received upon sitting down. It startled her, the pain that radiated from those eyes. Oh, Harry.
"Ginny, she Flooed me and …" she began only for Harry to cut her off, hand raised to stop the flow of words.
"I-I don't want to talk about it. Alright? I just … I don't want to talk about that." His words are tinged with anger, slightly slurred but still coherent. The bite of anger stung, but Hermione reminded herself, it wasn't all directed at her.
"I'm just … I'm mad. I'm really, really mad," Harry bit out, taking another deep drink from the tumbler of whiskey. The bartender came over once more, refilling the shot glasses, and silently asking about refilling the tumbler. A nod and the splash of liquid hitting glass filled the silence left by angry, pain filled, words.
As the bartender stepped away to serve another customer, Harry drank another swallow of whiskey before turning his gaze towards Hermione once more.
"I've loved two women and in the end, apparently I'm not good enough. Maybe it's the whole 'Famous Harry Potter' thing. They think they're getting one thing but then they find out it's just me. Bumbling, clueless Harry. Rubbish with women," He laughed bitterly, lifting the tumbler to his lips, taking a swallow before continuing, voice rough with drink and anger.
"First there was Cho. Merlin that was a disaster. She never actually cared about me. It was all about Cedric and how I was there when he died. Of course I was too stupid to realize that then. Took her friend betraying the DA to show me what she really was."
He let a sigh escape him, the alcohol fumes strong on his breath making Hermoine wrinkle her nose at the smell.
"Then sixth year and Ginny happened. I really …. you know thought she was the one. Finally. Of course Voldemort had to interrupt *that* before it could really get anywhere and you know the car went off the rails for a while. But we got back together after, and you know it was great. So I asked her to marry me, and she just …" He trailed off again, staring into his almost empty tumbler of whiskey, jaw pulsing hard, fingers tight against the glass.
Reaching over, Hermione placed her hand on his free one where it rested on the scuffed surface of the bar. Squeezing his fingers, she tried to find words that would let him know that she understands.
Not letting go of his hand, Hermione looks down at the bar, not really seeing it as she speaks. "I know what you mean. About thinking it's all fine and great. And expectations. You know I think that weighed on you and Ginny too. How everyone expected you to be together. Just like everyone expected Ron and I to be together. I guess we let other people's expectations color our perceptions a bit.
"And for a while you know, Ron and I, we *were* happy. I did love him, still do, but not in the way he deserves. And while it was painful when it ended, I realized later, that it was probably best. And I know right now, it hurts. And you're angry, but I just, I want you to know I'm here, Harry. For anything."
Silence crowds into the spaces left by Hermione's words as they settle around them. For a moment she's sure Harry is going to turn to her and angrily ask her to leave. And while she doesn't want to, she will do as he asks. If he asks.
She watches him, as his jaw ticks harder, his grip on his glass getting tighter until his knuckles are white and Hermione fears the glass breaking in his hand. Holding her breathe, she waits. The seconds tick away and finally, imperceptibly, she sees his shoulders relax just a little and she lets go of the breath she'd been holding.
When he turns to her, eyes still haunted but less so, he nods. "Thanks, Mione," he tells her, turning back to his drink.
And while it's clear that he's still angry, still hurt, Hermione smiles warily, "Always," she said, quietly.
Signaling the bartender for a drink, Hermione settles onto her barstool, waiting for whatever came next.
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