Harmony
Or How Harmonie Fans Finally Found Their Happily Ever After
A light breeze was coming across the lake from the north. It carried whispered words of cooler weather and winter being on the way. The ripples caused the lake to shimmer like a field of diamonds. On the hill between the lake and the castle, waves of goldenrod swayed as the colorful leaves of the trees rustled nervously. Most people would find this scene idyllic. However, Harry was oblivious to it all.
He was walking, head down, brooding along alone on his favorite shoreline path. It was his place of solitude away from public eyes and voices. He used to love Hogwarts in the Autumn. It was magic, friends, freedom from his Aunt and Uncle's house, and quidditch. Now, it was hollow, and so was he.
He was tired of labels hanging on him like sale tags. He no longer wanted to be 'The Boy Who Lived', 'The Chosen One', 'The Triwizard Champion', or 'The Boy Who Conquered the Dark Lord'. He simply wanted to be.
In the past, he could answer the question: "What is happiness?" Now, it was eluding him. Dealing with post-war notoriety was a lingering complication in his litany of challenges and successes. It brought him pain instead of joy or comfort.
As he walked, kicking the occasional stone, his shoes crunched on the gravelly path. Then, as he rounded a rocky outcropping, he almost stumbled over a person sitting on a bleached log. It was Hermione. She was so engrossed in her reading that she failed to detect his approach.
"Harry," she half-shrieked, her book hitting the ground with a thud. "Wha—what are you doing here? You startled me."
"Sorry. Just walking," he replied as he picked up her prodigious tome. " The Giant Book of Giants, huh."
"It's just a little light reading," she said, looking up and shading her eyes from the sun.
"Not exactly little or light," he deadpanned as she winced at the return of its weight.
"Okay," she chuckled as Harry's expression never changed. This was a great contrast to the past. Harry, especially if Ron were present, would have been convulsing in laughter.
"Uh…excuse me. I'm going to keep walking," he said as he started to step past her.
"No. No," said Hermione as she dropped the book and patted the log. "Sit down. We need to talk."
Harry hesitated, giving her a look like he was being inconvenienced. Then, he joined her on the log.
"What's bothering you? You are not yourself, lately."
"Nothing," he replied. "I just enjoy walking."
"Harry," she asserted. "This is more than you enjoy walking. We have been friends since our first year. We lived together for months in that tent. You are not acting yourself. I can tell when something is bothering you."
"Okay—uh—sure. It's just that I—I'm feeling lost—uh—alone," he admitted.
"Is it because of Ginny?" Hermione asked softly, almost wishing she was not doing it voice. She placed her hand on his like she was touching a baby animal. A warmth that had been missing suddenly rekindled inside him.
"I—I—uh—I think that's part of it," he answered, quietly startled by his reaction to the touch. "I thought we had something—a future, maybe. Now, she's gone to be a quidditch star."
"You know how I was with Ron," she said, her touch becoming more of a tender grip. "I always thought the same thing—that we—we were going to make it work. I think he did, too. But—well, you know—it didn't".
"I thought the same thing about the two of you," he replied. "I was sad when you broke up. Ron was devastated, too, of course. But he said he figured it was inevitable. 'We're two very different people. She's too brilliant for a bloke like me' he would say. 'She is so serious most of the time and I can't be. I know that bothers her. Then there's the whole me being a pureblood. I don't really care but she is always struggling with it because she's muggle-born. It messes her up.'"
"I know," said Hermione, a tear forming in the corner of her eye as her hand tightened on Harry's arm. "We talked. We talked a lot. I told him he was really smart, too. And I tried to deal with him being a pureblood and me being muggle-born. I really did. But there was always someone like Malfoy calling me a mudblood—reminding me of what I am."
"You're a lot more than—uh—well—that. It's just Draco's way of dealing with the way he's failed his father. Besides, you're brilliant—the smartest and most caring person I know."
"Thanks. But I still feel so—so…"
"...I understand," cut in Harry. "I do. Life isn't always fair. I've been reminded of that all of the time."
"We are quite a pair," mused Hermione as she sniffed back her tears. "A pair of dented cans with torn labels on a shelf full of shiny, new ones."
"I would not go that far," said Harry as he put his arm around her shoulders.
"Okay. Maybe only a little dented," she said with a smirk.
"Well, I'm glad we sorted things out after the troll thing in our first year," replied Harry, giving a hint of a smile. "We've been close for a long time. I think of you like—uh—almost like you're my sister," said Harry.
"Yes. I know. I have always felt the same way about us—but—but…" hemmed Hermione. All of the little things, the thoughts, notions, and inklings that had been invisibly winding themselves tighter and tighter over the years like the spring in a jack-in-the-box had reached their final turn. All of these unspoken things, unacted-upon truths were ready to explode into the open. "I could be more than a—a sister—uh—that is if you would like me to."
"What are you saying? Are you…" his voice trailing off, "...are you suggesting we try being a couple?"
"I am saying I would like to give it a chance."
Harry looked into the polished mahogany of Hemione's eyes. They glistened in the sunlight as she waited for him to respond. However, the ability to speak was evading him.
A moment passed. Then, Harry took her hand as he started to lean in. Their lips met as two worlds crumbled and a new world emerged. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced—not with Cho, not with Ginny, not even within his imagination. It was like time vanished along with everything else. They were the whole of the universe.
Their faces were flushed when their lips finally parted. They stared into each other's eyes trying to read what had just happened. Then, suddenly, they were laughing. A moment later, they were locked together. The fire from their kiss was rekindled. The flames were rising high as they fell back off the log onto the ground.
From there, Harry and Hermione slow-played their relationship in front of everyone. Two weeks went by. Finally, Ron approached them in the Fountain Courtyard.
"Everyone knows," he said.
"Knows?" said Harry as they looked up from the bench where they were seated a respectful two feet apart. "Knows what?"
"Yes. Knows what, Ron?" echoed Hermione.
"That the two of you…that you're a couple. We can all see it," he said as they suddenly felt as if the Eye of Sauron was suddenly fixed on them.
"We—uh—we're just—um—we," both of them stammered as their faces gaped.
"It's alright," interrupted Ron, rescuing them from the fluster. "More than alright, actually. "I'm happy for you. We all are."
Now that they were outed, they started acting like a normal pair of dating teenagers. It provided great amusement for their friends and classmates. When the time came, they left Hogwarts. They settled into Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was surprisingly receptive. Hermione's treatment of the elves during the war changed his mind about her. Mistress Granger was a welcome addition to his domain.
Time marched on. Their relationship started the process of maturing like a fine wine. Harry and Ron entered and completed the Auror training program. They started their professional careers. Hermione was promoted from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
When the time was right, they married. Despite their wishes for it to be a quiet affair, it became the event of the summer thanks to Rita Skeeter's constant nattering in The Daily Prophet.
Just over a year later, their first child, Randal (Randy) entered the world. He would grow up tall and slim, with long, black hair and aspirations of becoming a rock star. Their second child, Wilhelmina (Billie) would be born a year later. She grew to look exactly like Hermione with a wealth of brown hair and bright brown eyes. She was very artistic and an excellent writer but mischievous like her father.
Harry became the Head Auror the same year Hermione was promoted to Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In their children's fifth and fourth years at Hogwarts, Hermione was named the new Minister for Magic.
The years went by, as they always do. In their later years, Harry and Hermione retired to a quiet cottage on a small loch in the Scottish Highland. It was only accessible by flight, apparition, or an arduous hike. They watched their children grow and leave to pursue their careers. Before long, they had one, two, and ultimately five grandchildren visiting them.
"Are you happy I fixed your glasses all of those years ago?" giggled Hermione with a wry grin.
"I suppose," chuckled Harry as he rocked in his chair. "I did save you from that troll."
"Actually, it was Ron who knocked out the troll."
"Then how about from the situation in the vaults at Gringotts?"
"Okay," laughed Hermione as she reached over and put her hand on Harry's arm. "I'll give you that one."
"Really. I think we all saved each other loads of times."
"Yes," replied Hermione as she got up and moved onto Harry's lap. "But the best time was when you leaned over and kissed me on that log. I was too scared to do it."
And so, Harry and Hermione found the happily ever after so many wanted for them.
The End
