London
December 11, 2006
Harry opened the door, offering Daphne a smile and a hug before allowing her through the threshold.
"Is everyone ready to go?" she asked, bundled in a peacoat and a knitted hat.
"I'm ready," he emphasized.
"And Hermione and Draco?" Daphne gave him a knowing smile.
"You mean Romeo and Juliet? I'm scared to check." Harry shivered. He'd had the unfortunate experience of sharing a wall with the pair and hadn't realized it would be necessaryto cast a Muffliato before going to sleep the night before.
"I don't blame you." Daphne nodded sagely. "What's with the moniker?"
He shook his head. "My dad and some of the others apparently think a Malfoy with a "Muggleborn" is just as dramatic as a Montague and a Capulet."
They exhaled in relief when Hermione and Draco appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hand in hand and shifting nervously.
"What's wrong with you two?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Hermione responded too quickly.
"Are you nervous about going out?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. Daphne elbowed him in the side, reminding him to be nice.
"The last time we 'went out,' so to speak, we woke up the next morning with helicopters circling us," Draco drawled.
"Yes, well, the Corps isn't hunting you anymore," Harry argued, guiding them outside to his new, not-blown-up car. He noticed Hermione warily eyeing the two Corps Sergeants in the car behind them, tasked with keeping an eye on her and Draco.
"It's still odd. Our faces were blasted all over the news. I guess I'm just worried people will recognize us." Hermione frowned.
Daphne shook her head. "Trust me. You're yesterday's news. Besides, Weasleys isn't exactly the kind of place where people are concerned about the Corps' most wanted."
Hermione nodded and asked, "Will Ginny be there?"
Harry froze before pulling out of the street and heading towards downtown London. "Er—"
"Yes," Daphne interrupted. Harry's eye twitched and she continued, "I might have said something to Ron about you two needing to be forced into the same room."
"And he agreed to help?" Harry asked, his jaw dropping.
"Of course," Daphne said.
Harry shook his head; he didn't need to see his best friend to know she was smirking.
Draco changed the subject luckily, asking, "Will this be like the place we went to in Bath?"
Hermione shook her head. "I've never been to Weasleys, but I doubt it. The concert we went to was in someone's basement, really. Weasleys is a real club."
Daphne and Harry spent the rest of the drive trying to explain what a club was to Draco, who just shrugged and sat stiffly, still adjusting to being in a car.
Harry escorted them through the wizarding entrance, amused by everyone's awe and wonderment, and thinking back nostalgically to his own first time at Weasleys.
"Over here." Daphne guided them to a roped off area where a reasonably large table sat. Harry frowned, and she explained, "I talked Ron into setting up a small VIP area for us."
Harry counted the chairs and narrowed his eyes. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"
That was when he felt a massive SMACK on the back of his head. "Pansy," he said as he turned to face the brunette.
"Yes, you idiot." Pansy shook her head and embraced him. "If you ever let us believe you're dead again, I'll kill you."
"Noted." Harry smiled sheepishly.
"Pansy – so glad you could make it." Daphne hugged her and proceeded to introduce her to Draco and Hermione.
Pansy looked at Draco curiously. "I thought the Malfoys went with Voldemort?"
Hermione and Draco both froze, wide-eyed.
"It's complicated," Harry told Pansy with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Alright everyone, sit down," Daphne ordered and snapped her fingers at someone in the distance. A tray of champagne flutes floated towards them from the bar.
"Since when do they have champagne here?" Harry asked, blinking.
"We don't." Ron walked over. He looked amused and grabbed a flute, nodding to Daphne.
Harry went pale as he saw Ginny approach. She looked stiff, and it seemed she was doing everything possible to avoid Harry's gaze.
"Oh, good, everyone's here." Daphne beamed and raised her glass to the other six. "Thank you all for coming tonight. I just wanted to bring everyone here, old friends and new, to celebrate Harry being alive."
"To Harry! And to hoping Elijah Parkinson gets shivved in prison!" Pansy shouted and the rest chuckled and raised their glasses.
Harry watched Ginny take a seat next to Hermione, glancing only momentarily in his direction.
"You know, you seem quite put out for someone who rose from the dead," Pansy said to him in a low voice no one else could hear.
Harry rolled his eyes. "What can I say, there's something to be said for being dead."
Pansy furrowed her brow. "Is that what's going on between you and the girl Weasley? You're struggling now that you've come back to reality?"
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess. She just doesn't think we work."
Pansy nodded, eyeing him carefully. "And did she say why?"
"Something about us not working in the real world – that she doesn't want to "share me" or such rubbish," he drawled.
"And you just accepted that?" She frowned.
"No – but she doesn't want to talk about it," he pointed out.
"Have you considered that maybe she wants you to fight for her?" Pansy argued.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I have been!"
"Have you though? It seems that since you've been back, you've been holed up with Parliament and the Corps and these two mysterious new conspirators." Pansy gestured at Draco and Hermione.
"Well, yeah, there's a lot going on," Harry pointed out vaguely. He knew Pansy was not aware, and had no desire to be aware of the unpublicized details of what happened over the last two months.
"But that's her point – isn't it? You're Harry Fucking Potter. You're larger than life – you'll always have a lot going on, because you care about the world for some reason," Pansy pointed out. "And since she's known you, you've almost died – twice. I guess I can't blame her for being scared."
Harry frowned and looked towards the witch in question, who was speaking with Hermione and Draco.
"What's been going on with you?" he asked Pansy, effectively changing the subject.
She narrowed her eyes but answered, "Oh, nothing much. Just dealing with my father's fallout. There's nothing more liberating than having your overbearing conservative father fall from grace."
"Is that why you're in London?" Harry asked.
"Mm-hmm," she confirmed, taking a dainty sip of her drink. "And to give you a hard time, of course."
"How are you adjusting?" Ginny asked Hermione and Draco.
Hermione thought this was quite a loaded question. She and Draco had spent their morning going through an 'orientation', which largely involved getting Draco proper WEA identification and registering both of their wands.
"It's been… a little disorienting," Hermione started. "It would be easier without the shadows." She nodded towards the Sergeants, who were awkwardly standing a few feet from the table, garnering unnecessary attention from many of the other club goers.
Ginny shrugged. "I think they just don't know what to do with you two." Where they, Hermione realized, referred to the entire WEA government. They seemed to be unable to decide if Hermione and Draco were heroes or criminals, and thus, in a way, treated them like both.
"If I decide to return to the Corps it would be quite odd to have two Sergeants following me around all the time," Hermione pointed out.
Draco frowned and interjected, "I assumed they were following me more than you."
Hermione offered him a sympathetic smile. "It's unclear. They fear you because you're not from here and they fear me for — well, obvious reasons."
"Maybe they really are for your protection," Ginny suggested. Hermione was about to argue when she explained, "There were at least 50 people in that room when you discussed the Event. Perhaps the Corps is worried about the possibility of a leak, and fear public retribution."
Hermione hadn't even considered the idea that what was talked about might somehow get leaked to the media. "They must have taken precautions, right?"
Ginny shrugged. "Bill mentioned that all of the non-Corps personnel present were required to sign a non-disclosure agreement. But you never know."
Hermione shut her eyes, now nervous about the prospect of the entire world learning of her role in history.
Draco exhaled and wrapped an arm around her. "It'll be fine," he reassured her.
"How?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Because we're here and we're alive. And you shouldn't let some possible future event rule your present."
As abstract as the explanation was, Hermione felt comforted. She looked around her and considered the last two months: the revelations, the nightmares, the magic. She considered the life she would be living had Draco not turned up, irradiated in her wood. And she realized, as she looked at Harry and Ginny, who she felt irrevocably connected to, she wouldn't change any of it.
She smiled at Draco, the realization warming her. "Thank you."
Draco's gaze was fixed on hers, and a soft smile played on his lips as he leaned in to kiss her.
"Really?" Ginny interjected. They turned to face the Officer, who was now making a puking gesture.
Draco looked at Hermione seriously before he turned to Ginny and smiled. "Don't be bitter because you and Potter are on the outs."
Ginny sputtered, "I'm not – we're..."
"Uh-huh," Hermione teased.
"GIN!" The entire table turned to see another redhead smiling down at them all.
"George." Ginny gave him a short nod.
"It's Fred," he answered.
"No, it's not." She raised her eyebrows in challenge.
"Could never fool you, baby sis." George offered a broad smile. "So, there's a small chance we told the band you're here."
"No," Ginny answered the unspoken question.
"Do it!" Ron shouted.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked the group at large.
Ginny shushed her and sat with her arms crossed, obstinate.
"C'mon Gin." Harry gave her a soft smile, and Hermione watched as Ginny's resolve melted.
She shook her head, standing. "I will get you all back for this," she grumbled, following George towards the front of the club.
"Will someone tell us what that was all about?" Pansy asked.
"You'll see." Harry's eyes shone and he stood, dragging Pansy and Daphne with him. "Come on, you guys."
They all headed to the dance floor, and Hermione noticed Ginny standing at the mic on stage. "Look." She pointed her out to Draco.
"What's she doing up there?" He frowned.
"I think she's going to sing," Hermione surmised. She recognized the tune immediately and sang along with the crowd, earning a curious stare from Draco. She pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and shuffling with the music. He smiled and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.
"Is this what it's always like?" Draco asked quietly, "Music and dancing? Is this your world?"
Hermione laughed. "Oh no. This is... this is still remarkable. But maybe one day it could be."
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer let it be
The crowd sang, and Hermione pressed her ear to Draco's chest, drawing comfort from the steady presence of his heartbeat.
Daphne sang the familiar lyrics, slowly swaying and watching the couples on the dance floor. She felt a hand gently press against her shoulder and turned, her pulse quickening when she met Ron's gaze.
"You want to dance?" he asked with a small smile.
She nodded and tentatively placed her hands around his waist.
"How have you been with everything?" he asked.
Daphne had kept her distance from Ron Weasley following the gossip that had come out the month before. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him; rather, she wanted whatever was happening with them, be it friendship or something more, to be on their terms. As she told Hermione, the public was fickle, their attention floating from one scandal to the next. She had decided she could be patient.
She felt his hands wrap gently around her hips. "It's been a bit lonely," she admitted.
"It doesn't have to be," he told her with a soft smile.
She returned the gesture, leaning into him as they swayed side to side.
And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine on till tomorrow
Let it be
"Perhaps."
Harry stood frozen, watching Ginny on stage.
Pansy interrupted his musings. "She's quite good."
He jumped, having forgotten about the woman standing next to him. He nodded. "Yeah, she is."
"Go, you idiot." She pushed him as the song was ending.
Let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be
Harry smiled at Pansy and pushed his way towards the stage, watching as Ginny gave a small salute to the band before heading off and unknowingly towards him.
"Ginny," he shouted over the crowds, and she jumped. "Can we talk?"
She looked torn but nodded, leading him to a back room behind one of the bars. "So?" she asked, arms folded over her chest.
The room felt foreboding, with the residual thump of the base and the underlying murmur of the clubbers. Various magical and non-magical posters were hung up haphazardly around the room, which was otherwise littered in boxes. "I'm not willing to give up on us," he said finally.
She blinked. "It's not quite entirely your choice."
"I get it," he told her. "I'm a lot. I can't keep my mouth shut, and I have this tendency to try and single-handedly solve every problem I see, often to my detriment and those around me." He took a breath and continued, "I know you want to be a priority, too, and I can make you—"
"That's not—" she shook her head "—Harry, I'm not like that. I'm not the kind of girl that needs to always be your number one."
Harry frowned. "But you said—"
"I said," Ginny interrupted again, "that I didn't want to share you with the world. But I guess what I meant to say was, it wouldn't be right for me to take you from the world."
"What?"
Ginny shook her head. "Before I met you, I thought you were more myth than man. I figured that you were all for show, just another political animal seeking power. But at some point, I realized you were more. And I don't mean more than I thought, I mean more than anyone thinks. Harry... it's not that you did anything wrong or that you don't pay enough attention to me or anything quite so — simple. It's that you can't de-prioritize everything else. The world needs you, right or wrong."
Harry laughed, and Ginny stared at him, incredulous. "That's all you've got?" he asked her.
"Well—"
"No, it's my turn now," he interrupted her, smiling. "I can't be the person I want to be, if all I'm doing is trying to 'save this word' or be this person you're making me out to be. To be the best version of myself, I need something more. I need you. And I think you know that and you're scared," he told her.
She flared her nostrils and sucked on her teeth, and he continued, "We've only known each other for two months, and it's been... well, it's been a trying two months. But we've also had the luxury of being alone, so I understand that being together in the real world is scary. Especially when you have to deal with someone like me."
Because he did get it. She would be scrutinized. There would be comments on the timing of their relationship and the inevitable comparisons to Daphne. Public attention wasn't something he enjoyed, but it was unavoidable right now. But he also knew that would be temporary. The world would move on to more interesting things as Harry settled back into his normal routine and was no longer the center of a political conspiracy.
"It is scary," she agreed.
"So, you want to give up before we even give this a real shot?" he asked quietly.
"It's not that simple—"
"No," he interjected, shaking his head. "It is. I'm not asking for you to marry me or move in with me. I'm just saying let's try dating and see how we feel in the real world. And if it's too overwhelming, or if it doesn't work, then... at least we tried."
She bit her lower lip and looked at her feet, trying to maintain her resolve.
Harry grabbed her chin. "Ginny," he said, looking her in the eye, "I don't want to live out the rest of my life in a chateau in France for the greater good. I want to live my life. Please. Just give us a shot."
Before she could say anything, he leaned in to kiss her, a soft kiss promising something she couldn't quite accept. She was still; she didn't return the kiss, but she didn't push him away. She simply stood frozen in uncertainty. Because she really was scared. She was a proud Corps Officer, and she was afraid of becoming something less, because of how much more Harry was.
But then she realized something: she hadliterally saved his life. He was a politician, an orator, but she was a warrior. She had somehow forgotten about all the times he had come to rely on her. They fit; he turned to her when they needed to fight, and she turned to him when they needed diplomacy.
Finally, she returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and pushing him back towards a wall, causing the pair to trip over some boxes and fall flat on their backs, laughing as they heard cans bump along the floor.
"Should we clean it up?" Harry asked.
"Shut up."