Beneath Moonlight
a romantic fanfiction by concrit;
Chapter 1
About three days it had been since Harry looked out the window and first saw the interrogative behaviour of his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. It was autumn outside of Remus's house, and the grass was crisp and browning slowly. The leaves on the trees were beginning to turnn already into beautiful colors of golden brown and bright red. A few odd trees were producing pinkish leaves around the house, although Harry suspected this may just be an effect of the magic surrounding the domain.
In the past few years of his life, Harry had began to forget the death of Sirius - not to the point that what he was forgetting entirely, but enough to only allow his being to dwell deep beneath his mind, where it only arised at night and Harry was forced to think about it, damn the luck of him. At least he didn't mope around any longer, of that he was proud.
Sitting outside on the porch looking off into the forest around them and sipping his morning coffee, Harry began to think once more of relations. The kids were all nineteen years old now, and full-grown adults, no longer to be called kids. They were acting them too, he thought idly, imagining the warm smile and light that the candles had cast on Ginny's round, soft face the previous night. Remembering the warming experience, Harry set down the cup and forced his mind to switch over to other thoughts.
Hermione and Ron had been living with Remus and Harry, as well as Ginny for the past year or two, and they had been quarreling as everfrost they did. But Harry, being always not the light-witted, had realized at once when he saw Ron sitting upon the same bench that he was now, Ron's arm wrapped tightly around Hermione's round shoulders, and smiling to himself, that there was something going on that they didn't wish to tell Harry.
Normally, Harry himself wouldn't be too worried upon the fairs of others, but when it came to Ron and Hermione, he felt his head spin. It was just too strange to imagine the two together as a couple, doing all the things average couples do. He had none them the better part of his life, and was thankful for that. But he secretly knew that if they had any idea what they were doing to him, they would tell him. This thought comforted him somewhat, but he still had to wonder a bit as to why they would not. Of course, starting out, it may not be too good to get too wrapped up in emotion with everybody, but Harry didn't think that was the reason either. Nothing seemed to fit the situation, no matter how well he placed the pieces of this complexative jigsaw puzzle together.
The storm door to his right opened with a sudden motion and he looked up. There they were, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was wearing one of Ron's sweaters, he noticed, and not one of the old maroon ones. It was a deep navy blue, the type Ron had particularly bought for himself out of despise for the deep purplish red color of the earlier ones made by his mother. Harry began to say something, but stopped at the sight of their arms interlocked. Instead, he forced a small smile.
"We're just going down to the Three Broomsticks to get a few butterbeers, Harry," Ron said, nodding towards Hermione, as if it wasn't that obvious. "Would you like to come?"
Harry studied Ron's expression for a second, and it seemed that Ron's bright blue eyes were practically begging him to answer a negative. Harry didn't want to go anyway, he felt a bit tired and he was certainly not interested in watching the two of them snog any time soon. So he replied with a simple, "No, I'm fine. Thanks," and bade them farewell.
The door closed as they walked down the wooden steps of the log house and towards the woods on a small path Remus himself had made by clearing trees with his wand. Harry watched their retreating backs, and noticed Hermione glancing back anxiously at him. As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, Harry sighed loudly and slouched on the seat, his head in his hands.
The door opened again, this time slowly though and undisturbing. Harry didn't even need to look up to see who it was, but he did anyway, and smiled. Ginny was standing there in her light red bathrobe, her auborn hair permed with magic to be extremely curly and pumpous, they way Harry preferred it. She smiled at him, and sat down on the empty seat to his left. She put her arm around his waist and leaned in.
"Hi Harry," she said softly, and their lips met in a small kiss. "How are you doing?"
"It's okay Ginny," he said shortly, breathing a little deeper now. "Nothing important."
"But it is, baby," Ginny whispered as she leaned in for another kiss. He gladly accepted the offer. When they broke apart again, he stuttered, "It's just Ron and Hermione. They have been my friends all my life, and I know they have something going. It's not going to be the same. I'm afraid of change, Ginny."
"But weren't you afraid of change when you changed your feelings of Cho?"
"Yes, but--"
"And weren't you afraid of change when Lord Voldemort took over?"
"Yes, but--"
"And weren't you afraid of change the first time you kissed me? You certainly enjoyed it I remember, to be so scared of something so harmless, but helping..." Ginnny sweet-talked to him, and she knew her innocent charm was working. "Now listen to me, Harry. Their life is their life, and if we were meant to interfere, we would have been given to the Dark Lord long before this. I care about you, love, I don't want you hurting yourself before I even get the chance to marry you."
Harry could do nothing except lean in again and kiss her, this time with deepened intensification. And his mind was set at a calm, for now at least.
a romantic fanfiction by concrit;
Chapter 1
About three days it had been since Harry looked out the window and first saw the interrogative behaviour of his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. It was autumn outside of Remus's house, and the grass was crisp and browning slowly. The leaves on the trees were beginning to turnn already into beautiful colors of golden brown and bright red. A few odd trees were producing pinkish leaves around the house, although Harry suspected this may just be an effect of the magic surrounding the domain.
In the past few years of his life, Harry had began to forget the death of Sirius - not to the point that what he was forgetting entirely, but enough to only allow his being to dwell deep beneath his mind, where it only arised at night and Harry was forced to think about it, damn the luck of him. At least he didn't mope around any longer, of that he was proud.
Sitting outside on the porch looking off into the forest around them and sipping his morning coffee, Harry began to think once more of relations. The kids were all nineteen years old now, and full-grown adults, no longer to be called kids. They were acting them too, he thought idly, imagining the warm smile and light that the candles had cast on Ginny's round, soft face the previous night. Remembering the warming experience, Harry set down the cup and forced his mind to switch over to other thoughts.
Hermione and Ron had been living with Remus and Harry, as well as Ginny for the past year or two, and they had been quarreling as everfrost they did. But Harry, being always not the light-witted, had realized at once when he saw Ron sitting upon the same bench that he was now, Ron's arm wrapped tightly around Hermione's round shoulders, and smiling to himself, that there was something going on that they didn't wish to tell Harry.
Normally, Harry himself wouldn't be too worried upon the fairs of others, but when it came to Ron and Hermione, he felt his head spin. It was just too strange to imagine the two together as a couple, doing all the things average couples do. He had none them the better part of his life, and was thankful for that. But he secretly knew that if they had any idea what they were doing to him, they would tell him. This thought comforted him somewhat, but he still had to wonder a bit as to why they would not. Of course, starting out, it may not be too good to get too wrapped up in emotion with everybody, but Harry didn't think that was the reason either. Nothing seemed to fit the situation, no matter how well he placed the pieces of this complexative jigsaw puzzle together.
The storm door to his right opened with a sudden motion and he looked up. There they were, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was wearing one of Ron's sweaters, he noticed, and not one of the old maroon ones. It was a deep navy blue, the type Ron had particularly bought for himself out of despise for the deep purplish red color of the earlier ones made by his mother. Harry began to say something, but stopped at the sight of their arms interlocked. Instead, he forced a small smile.
"We're just going down to the Three Broomsticks to get a few butterbeers, Harry," Ron said, nodding towards Hermione, as if it wasn't that obvious. "Would you like to come?"
Harry studied Ron's expression for a second, and it seemed that Ron's bright blue eyes were practically begging him to answer a negative. Harry didn't want to go anyway, he felt a bit tired and he was certainly not interested in watching the two of them snog any time soon. So he replied with a simple, "No, I'm fine. Thanks," and bade them farewell.
The door closed as they walked down the wooden steps of the log house and towards the woods on a small path Remus himself had made by clearing trees with his wand. Harry watched their retreating backs, and noticed Hermione glancing back anxiously at him. As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, Harry sighed loudly and slouched on the seat, his head in his hands.
The door opened again, this time slowly though and undisturbing. Harry didn't even need to look up to see who it was, but he did anyway, and smiled. Ginny was standing there in her light red bathrobe, her auborn hair permed with magic to be extremely curly and pumpous, they way Harry preferred it. She smiled at him, and sat down on the empty seat to his left. She put her arm around his waist and leaned in.
"Hi Harry," she said softly, and their lips met in a small kiss. "How are you doing?"
"It's okay Ginny," he said shortly, breathing a little deeper now. "Nothing important."
"But it is, baby," Ginny whispered as she leaned in for another kiss. He gladly accepted the offer. When they broke apart again, he stuttered, "It's just Ron and Hermione. They have been my friends all my life, and I know they have something going. It's not going to be the same. I'm afraid of change, Ginny."
"But weren't you afraid of change when you changed your feelings of Cho?"
"Yes, but--"
"And weren't you afraid of change when Lord Voldemort took over?"
"Yes, but--"
"And weren't you afraid of change the first time you kissed me? You certainly enjoyed it I remember, to be so scared of something so harmless, but helping..." Ginnny sweet-talked to him, and she knew her innocent charm was working. "Now listen to me, Harry. Their life is their life, and if we were meant to interfere, we would have been given to the Dark Lord long before this. I care about you, love, I don't want you hurting yourself before I even get the chance to marry you."
Harry could do nothing except lean in again and kiss her, this time with deepened intensification. And his mind was set at a calm, for now at least.