Title: What You Call Them
Summary: Before Harry, Hermione, and Ron escape on their lonely, dark adventure, they grasp onto one last pleasant night. And this night is filled with reflections.
Author: tallshrimp (formerly known as FF-Serenity)
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter and am not gaining any monetary profit from this. Suing me is futile.
For many boys, there is that "one girl" in their lives. That one special girl—treasured more than any jewel and the one that many admit to take for granted—receives the most love a boy can give. For years, boys look to this girl as their beacon of light, the fountain of affection, and the trusted goddess. Many boys cannot imagine their life without this girl, and when fates steal the girl away, the boy is left with a hole in his heart. For many boys, they call this girl Mom.
For Harry, he calls her Hermione.
He looks at her now, with eyes full of love and trust and regret. He watches her dance and smile in the arms of a laughing red head. There doesn't seem to be enough of her smiles in this period of time.
Many have speculated on his relationship with her. They know that she is his best friend, just as Ron is. But is there more? Can there be more? What many don't know is that he speculates as well.
It is becoming dark, and the fire crackling on logs light in defiance. It grows, fighting against the night for this one last celebration before the blackness is covered in red. And the night understands. The last warm rays of the setting sun illuminate his pale face into spectrums and shadows. But he does not notice.
His green, green eyes are on them.
Over the years, premature lines have settled into skin above his eyes, between his brows, around his lips—a mixture of worry, of laughter, of regret, of mischief, of wonderment, and of burden. He is the Boy-Who-Has-Never-Been-A-Boy
He is sixteen.
But he has tried to be one. He has tried to have a family of his own more times than any man—wizard or muggle—can understand. He had a father; he calls him Ron; they called him James. He had a mother; he calls her Hermione; they called her Lily. And then there was Ginny—oh sweet, red hair Ginny. But what was she? She was his sister then his girlfriend, but now? Now, Ginny is...
The song comes to an end, and, along with it all, the illusions magic conjures. The bride and groom kiss under the stars: Beauty and the Beast—newly married. Everyone claps and for the time being the tragedies are forgotten. It is for the best. A new song will start soon. He leaves the wall he has been leaning against—goodbye long companion. Bright, brown eyes follow his steps. He does not notice.
His green, green eyes are on them.
"May I cut in for this next song?" It is almost a whisper. Everyone watches. But like the six years in Hogwarts, it is just another secret between the three.
The song, years old, begins. They're in each other's arms: mother and son, friend and friend, boy and girl, more and less... A family of blue and brown eyes watches them. But he does not notice.
His green, green eyes are on... He begins to sing the lyrics to her.
"Harry!" She lightly hits him, laughing. But he doesn't stop. He sings some lines here and there, and hums the rest.
"Turn down these voices inside my head...just hold me close, don't patronize... Here in the dark, in these lonely hours I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power..."
"Harry?" But he is no longer looking at her.
Ginny.
"Morning will come and I'll do what's right... Just give me till then to give up this fight...and I will give up this fight." He turns his head and smiles at her, his wonderful bookish friend.
"Harry?" The song has ended, her eyes are questioning, and his smile, happily pasted, turns soft. He twirls her in the silence, dips her, and--
"Hermione." Rights her up again. He bows, his hand sweeping, and guides her to the laughing-again red head Ron. He smiles.
For many boys, there is "that soul" in their lives. That soul makes up half of one being, and boys search for it all over. They search for completion. Many boys can live their life without that soul. But when they find it, gravity is not as heavy and the world is not as harsh. When they find it, they keep it. As long as they are near, it does not matter how. For being close to your other half, to see each smile, hear every laugh, and feel their warmth is enough. For many boys, they call this Soul Mate.
For Harry, he calls these souls Best Friends.