Harry woke to a room that wasn't entirely dark.
A large glass jar on his nightstand held a dancing blue flame, not unlike those he'd used to stay warm that winter.
He stretched out, cozy for once, tucked away in his bed as the blue light flickered, radiating extra warmth into the room.
It was quieter than he was comfortable with.
Silently, as to not wake Hermione in the next room, he sat up, pulled on his jumper, and slid his feet into his shoes. Wiping sleep from his eyes, he grabbed his glasses and wand off of his nightstand, next to the jar of flames.
He slowly and carefully padded over to Hermione's bedroom. It was still too quiet, and the door was open, so he glanced in to check on her.
The bed was empty.
Peeking out a window, there was no evidence of imminent dawn, no dull light in the east.
Stretching and sighing, he made his way away from the bedrooms until he finds his way outside.
A dusting of snow crunched beneath his feet, and he shivered against the stiff wind.
"Hermione?" He called quietly.
No response.
Lighting his wind with a whispered "Lumos." he searched the area for her.
Fear swelled in his chest when he realized she was not nearby. Why would she leave the area and their protections alone?
She wouldn't.
He noticed a fresh set of footprints in the snowfall. Frantically suspecting the worst, he searched around them and didn't make out another set. If they were hers, and they must have been, she was neither chasing nor being chased by anything.
That was some minor relief.
He followed the path quietly and quickly, straining his ears against the deafening silence of the night. It was unnatural. He should have heard something, anything, be it small creatures scurrying in the underbrush or owls rustling in the trees; but the night was perfectly still.
Without cause or warning, a grim, cloying fear set into his bones and he took off at a full sprint.
The moon had been full two days ago, so it cast some light on the new snow, making it easier to follow the path Hermione had inadvertently left him.
He followed her footprints on a winding trail through the underbrush until they led him to a small body of water, mostly covered in ice.
He once again quietly called out for her, and once again, received only silence in reply.
Then he noticed it.
A pair of boots by the waterside, with a warm jumper and jeans folded neatly atop them.
Casting concerns for stealth aside, he bellowed, "HERMIONE!" Into the dark night.
It didn't even echo. The oppressive blackness of the night sky seemed to press down on him from all sides.
Frantically moving his lit wand to search the water, he caught sight of something he'd hoped never to see again after the second task of the tournament during his fourth year.
Hermione was pale and motionless beneath the surface of the water, near the bottom perhaps three meters deep, with a glint of silver at her feet.
His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, and his vision narrowed, darkening around the edges.
Faster than he'd ever moved before, he stripped to his boxers and dove into the icy water with his wand between his teeth, lighting the way in front of him.
The frigid water set into him immediately, but the sheer adrenaline of his panic helped him push through, unhindered. Far too horrified to cramp, terrified at Hermione's unmoving silhouette and what it might mean. Time seemed to slow as he pushed toward her.
He wasn't sure when his ears started ringing.
Finally reaching her, he slung her hips over his left shoulder and crouched down to grab the sword from the bottom of the lake in his right hand before pushing off the bottom with both feet.
She didn't react at all to his touch or the nearly violent way he slung her over his shoulder.
With churning legs breaking silt free from the bottom, he neared the edge of the water and swung his right arm, throwing the sword onto the shore and scrambled frantically to get himself and Hermione's limp form out of the freezing water.
He had never realized, never really noted, how petite she was. As he moved her onto her back with adrenaline-fueled ease, though, he couldn't help but notice that she just seemed so small.
More importantly, though, her eyelids, lips, and hands were pale blue in the light of his wand.
He saw the horcrux around her neck; the chain drawn tight, digging into her skin, and he immediately ripped it off of her with all his might, breaking the chain.
"No no no no no no no no no." he chanted endlessly under rapid breaths as he took stock of her. He felt like he'd taken a bludger to the chest as fear tightened its grip on his heart.
Ron was gone. Without Hermione, he may as well just jump into the water for good himself.
He rolled her onto her side and clapped her between the shoulder blades. Some water trickled out of her mouth, but she didn't respond.
He rolled her once more onto her back and hoarsely screamed her name right into her face at the top of his lungs, failing miserably to stifle a sob at the end of it, hoping she'd hear him and stir.
She remained unmoving, completely still.
He retrieved his wand. "Ennervate!" He yelled at her. The spark of the spell hit her squarely in the center of the chest, but didn't so much as make her twitch.
Frantically, he straddled her torso, crouching down to cover her mouth with his, exhaling breath and hopefully life into her. She was as cold as ice beneath him, somehow feeling even colder than the frigid wind that swept through the surrounding trees.
Beside himself in despair, he didn't really know what he was doing, but by Merlin, he would not sit and do nothing.
He stacked his hands on the center of her chest and pushed in a rhythm, and more water escaped her mouth.
If she was dead, there'd be no sense in him waiting around for his turn. He'd never even been strong enough to set aside his insecurities and tell her he was mad for her. He'd never told her she meant everything to him.
"Hermione! Hermione!" He whispered at her through tears. "C'mon 'Mione, don't go. Don't- don't be gone. Please, please don't be gone. I can't do this without you. I need… I love you." He pleaded with her more and more frantically, as it became clear that his clumsy attempts to revive her weren't working.
He sat back up after breathing into her and began another frantic round of compressions, before he noticed her eyes were slightly opened and staring vacantly, unfocused, into the middle distance.
Slowly, he stopped pounding on her chest and leaned forward, sobbing, to kiss her forehead.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered in his ear.
The combination of the sound of her voice and her warm breath on his face ripped him from his nightmare and he nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise.
"I'm right here, Harry, are you alright?" She asked, standing at his bedside and leaning over him, inches from his face.
His nightmare had been vivid, leaving him disoriented and blearily looking at her, blinking and shaking his head as he came back to his senses. He was shivering and sweat beaded on his forehead. He could feel tears in his eyes and on his cheeks.
He reached out slowly and touched her concerned face, cupping her cheek in his hand gingerly, as though he was worried she was a specter and his hand would pass right through her if he touched her.
When it didn't, she yelped in surprise as he immediately pulled her down atop him in a tight hug.
"It was horrible." Harry whispered, not showing any sign of releasing her.
"Was it one you've had before?" She said, struggling to shift in his grip.
"Yes, and no." he admitted, easing his hold on her and sliding toward the middle of the bed so she could lie next to him without being right on the edge. "It was a scenario I'd dreamt of a few times, but far worse."
"The lake in the forest? The sword?" She asked lowly, kissing him on the forehead in the dark.
"Yeah…" he swallowed hard. "In this one, I didn't make it to you in time…"
"It was only a nightmare… You did get to me in time, and thanks to that, I'm right here with you."
He exhaled deeply. "Why does my brain hate me?" He asked with a wry chuckle.
"I don't know, but I feel like mine hates me, too." She turned to face away from him, nestling into the cool pillow.
"What time is it?" He asked wearily, hoping it wasn't almost morning.
"Almost 12:30."
He said nothing in reply. He didn't need to, because she understood without him saying a word. All he did was roll to his side facing her, and pull her back tightly to his chest. She didn't resist at all, but found his hand at his side and pulled it over her, wrapping his arm around her ribs and lacing her fingers with his.
She was almost asleep when she heard him whisper, "Thank you for being here."
Drifting off, she replied in a whisper, "There's nowhere I'd rather be."
—X—X—X—
That morning, Hermione woke to the distant sound of knocking.
Harry had rolled toward the other side of the bed, but his hand was extended, resting on the small of her back. She smiled at that, and was able to move without stirring him and donned a housecoat before investigating the sound.
It was the front door.
Opening it, Charles was standing on the porch looking somehow relaxed and alert at the same time, as per usual.
"Good morning, Miss Granger." He offered with a smile.
"Good morning, Charles. What's going on?" She asked, looking down the road in both directions.
"Nothing at all to worry about. You've received some post. We've scanned it over for any unsavory enchantments and the like. Here." He handed over a letter addressed to Harry, and a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Thank you, Charles. Has Harry told your team what our plans are for today?"
"An outing to a shopping district and then dinner, I believe."
"Excellent! Any chance we'll have a vehicle of our own by then?" She asked hopefully.
"Unfortunately not, ma'am. Hoping to have that all sorted out by tomorrow night or Monday morning at the latest."
"Of course, no trouble. And again, thank you for handling that. Other than driving, I don't really know too much about cars."
"Don't mention it. I think you'll both be pleased with the setup I was able to track down. Did Harry mention the list to you?"
"The list?"
"Right. Hoping to avoid situations like last night, with Mr. Lupin being stopped as he was. If you two could work up a list of allowed visitors, it might make things move a bit more smoothly in the future."
"I see, yes we can put something together and get it to you before we leave today."
"Excellent. I'll leave you to it then, ma'am." Charles nodded and turned away.
"Thank you."
Hermione turned back into the house and made her way down to the kitchen, started a kettle, and paged through the paper.
There were few articles of interest. Some talk of the ongoing hunt for the rest of the death eaters seemed to show they'd either gone to ground or fled the country for the time being. Another article analyzed recent changes at the ministry, including some new appointments made by Minister Shacklebolt, whose image covered most of the front page, because of vacancies created when numerous death eaters within the ministry were ousted.
Flipping to page two, she saw something that immediately transported her back one week in time to the morning of the end of the battle.
The image on the page showed the main courtyard of Hogwarts in shambles. Large pieces of the castle had been broken loose and crashed to the rough stone in the yard. One of the grand doors lay flat on the ground in front of the entrance to the castle, while the other sat angled, knocked off of its great hinges. There were small mounds of burning debris still reducing to ash, and the moving image showed small groups of people with wands out, still working to levitate larger chunks of rubble or scour blood and mud off of the cobblestones.
It took a moment for something in the image to stand out to her, and she immediately wished it hadn't.
It was plain to see on the ancient cobblestones, a dark stain leaving a long, thick line unevenly from near the center of the courtyard over toward the front steps of the castle.
Her heart stuttered, and she closed her eyes, trying in futility to put the image out of her mind.
She remembered Harry's retelling of the end of the battle.
The horrible vision in her mind's eye was worse than a nightmare because it was entirely real. It had happened. It was fact. Harry had been dealt his second death blow of that horrible morning and she hadn't been there for him. She wasn't able to help him. She couldn't take action to save him while she herself was lying useless on the ground.
She wasn't looking at the paper anymore. Instead, she was back in the courtyard, living that horrible morning again. Blood, sweat, and burning spell fire filled her senses, and her heart finally sped up. Watching helplessly as Harry, covered in his own blood, cried out in agony as a growing hole in his side gushed his lifeblood out of him.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"He's okay. He's upstairs. He's getting better. So am I. We're going out today." she thought to herself.
Hearing distant footsteps descending a staircase, she fought to push the ghosts of the battle and its memory from her face. She heard Harry calling curiously for her.
"I'm in the kitchen!" She called weakly, standing to get the tea going while pointedly keeping her gaze from the open paper on the table. The kettle had emptied by about half, having been boiling for some time while she'd been distracted by the paper.
"You ok, love?" Harry asked, coming down the stairs to the kitchen.
"I am now." She said, exhaling deeply and turning slightly from the counter she was leaning on to hug him with one arm.
She held him tighter than he'd expected, and held him for a long moment.
"Hey," Harry said softly, sensing that something was off with her.
When she didn't respond, he looked around the room and saw the newspaper on the table, open to the ruins of the courtyard.
Immediately, he gently touched her chin and turned her head to face him.
Hermione had thought at the moment she'd done a good job wiping the fear and pain off of her face, and she might have, but regardless of her efforts, he could tell. Over the years, he'd become rather adept at reading her as well. After only a second of looking into her eyes, Harry kissed her forehead and wrapped himself around her, burying her face in his chest, one arm around her shoulders and a hand on the back of her head, tracing small circles at the back of her neck. She turned from the counter and returned the embrace.
The steady thrum of his heart confirmed all the things she'd told herself earlier.
"I'm sorry, Harry." She cried into his chest.
"What on earth for?" Harry was genuinely at a loss for what she might be sorry for.
"I wasn't able to help you in the courtyard. You needed me and I couldn't-"
"Hey, stop that." He said tenderly, moving both hands to the back of her neck and looking her in the eyes. "You were amazing, and that wasn't your fault, it was mine, remember? I assumed I was his only focus and it cost you… so much."
She sniffled against his pajama shirt. The thought that the simple sight of a place that used to be full of wonder and happiness for her had sent her into a tailspin shook her. She hadn't been prepared for the memory to sneak up on her as it had. She recalled Milly telling her it was 'okay to not be okay'. The words were a comfort, because she was far from it.
Holding Harry close helped her though, and she imagined it helped him too, though he hadn't been in need just then.
She'd seen him in pain and danger more than enough over the years, and it allowed her mind to paint a vivid picture of him grievously wounded, even if she hadn't seen the situation herself. It was too real. During their time alone, they'd saved each other's lives and had learned from experience that they could lean on each other when in need.
But she had him now. He was in her arms, and she was in his. They were together, and through the worst of it… It just didn't always feel like it.
After a few moments, feeling his arms pull her into him, she broke the fragile silence in the room. "Tell me we're going to be okay."
"We will. Before you know it."
—X—X—X—
After something of a rough start to the morning, Harry and Hermione both were excited to get on with their day, and to actually try to have a good time.
The letter addressed to Harry that morning had been a reply from Luna. She would come by Sunday afternoon for a visit and to talk about the exposé for the Quibbler.
Over tea and a relaxed breakfast of muffins and fruit, the pair talked about things they wanted to get, and Hermione tried to think of the best places to go looking for them. She eventually settled on Oxford Street for their first stop. Harry hadn't ever been there and was looking forward to the trip.
They cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen together, then split up to get ready for the day.
Five days had passed since Harry had his surgery. His head still hurt occasionally… typically close to when he was supposed to take another dose of his potion, but the last of the scarring from where they'd opened him up had vanished thanks to a salve he'd been using daily, and he was more than ready to wash his hair properly for the first time in far too long.
Standing under a deluge of warm water, he felt the tension wash out of his shoulders and flow down the drain. He hung his head low, letting the water assault the back of his neck and his hair, which was still shorter than he usually kept it.
There was a small rack of bottles in the shower. They were labeled neatly and contained various solutions for grooming, from shampoo, soap, and conditioner, to beard wash, hair straightening solution, shave balm, fragrances, and a few other things. He made a mental note to pick up a razor. He wasn't yet at a point where he needed to shave every day, but over time he'd gathered a bit of stubble and would have preferred to address it before his day out on the town with Hermione.
He washed his hair three times, feeling a little more rejuvenated with each pass. The shampoo smelled subtly of sandalwood and he loved it. He cleaned himself slowly and deliberately from head to toe, thoroughly enjoying the pressure of the warm water, and paused at his side to poke a bit at his bandage. It was nearly the same color as his skin, but felt a bit rubbery, and it was shrinking in sync with the gaping hole it was there to repair. Running his hand over the spot, it didn't hurt at all to apply some gentle pressure to it, but as he tried to find the edges, it began to ache slightly.
When he was done in the shower, he spent longer than he thought was reasonable trying to decide what to wear. He was oddly giddy about it, but he wanted the day to be perfect, and he wanted to look his best, without doing too much either. What should one wear on a first date with their best friend, anyway?
The fact that the goal of the day was to remedy the fact that neither of them had much in the way of clothes, didn't help matters, but he still wanted to make an effort. Glancing back through his closet once more, he saw his answer.
He retrieved the deep purple dress shirt he'd worn the previous summer to Bill and Fleur's wedding, and laid it out on his bed before staring back at his options. Dark jeans and a white tee rounded out the ensemble. He left a couple buttons on the shirt undone, rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and didn't tuck in, hoping to make the admittedly fancy shirt look a bit more casual.
He brushed his teeth and made a feeble pass at styling his hair. It wasn't yet at a length that he was used to dealing with, so he ended up trying for a 'deliberately messy' look that he thought suited him well enough.
When he was done, he took stock of himself in a full length mirror, and actually didn't mind what he saw. He was still… 'Anxious' wasn't quite the right word, but he was quite excited for his date with Hermione.
Making his way downstairs, he was fully expecting to see Hermione waiting for him in the front room, but after a few minutes of looking around, he realized he was alone downstairs. He looked around the room, pointlessly admiring a few trinkets and baubles adorning the mantle, before he heard Hermione's voice cut through the silence.
"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't quite decide what to wear, if you can believe it." Her bashful voice led her down the staircase and Harry walked around the table to meet her.
"Believe it or not I've only been down here for a couple minutes." Harry called just before she made the last turn down the stairs.
She laughed. "Harry, you don't have to say that just to make me feel…" She stopped mid-sentence when she saw him.
"Hi." He said thickly when he saw her.
She was wearing bluejeans and a lilac purple blouse with long sleeves and a flattering square neckline, and she'd styled her hair into a neat ponytail, with a few tendrils of hair framing her face.
"Hi." She replied, grinning broadly.
"You look lovely." He said, extending his arm for her to take.
She did and kissed him on the cheek in the process.
"I could say the same." She smiled. "I love what you did with your hair." She said, as Harry felt his face warm slightly.
—X—X—X—
It was just after eleven when they stepped out of their car onto a street just a block south of their destination. The ride hadn't been too long, and while in transit, they were reminded once again to use their rings if anything untoward or suspicious happened.
As the sunlight of a beautiful spring day shone down on them, though, it was hard to imagine such concerns coming into play with a sky as clear as it was.
"So, where to first?" Harry asked as they turned a corner and made their way onto a bustling street.
Hermione looked like she was thinking about something more than shopping. "Well, we do sort of need a bit of everything."
"I literally have no idea where even to start." Harry admitted. He was just shy of overwhelmed by not only the countless stores that seemed to line the road, but also the amount of people out and about.
He was surprised to be learning that their months of frightened near solitude, followed by their time at Shell Cottage with only a handful of Weasleys and Order members, had left him feeling anxious in the presence of so many people, but aside from the battle one week prior, this was really the first time since Bill and Fleur's wedding he'd been in any sort of crowd.
"Do you know any of these stores by name? I know it's silly, but I really don't know the first thing." He said nervously. "I might have come up with muggles, but this is… really more your world than mine, if I'm being honest."
Hermione looked at him, and seeing through his mask, let hers slip down as well. Her eyes scanned the crowd, nervous and hypervigilant, but she took him firmly by the hand with a nod and a smile. They walked about 50 meters down the street before turning into a store.
It was much quieter inside, and the floor appeared to be mostly empty aside from a man rummaging through a rack of clothes near a till toward the back of the store.
"Are you okay?" She whispered in his ear as they crossed the threshold of the store.
"Yeah, I think so. You're feeling it too, though, aren't you?" Harry asked, as he put his arm around her shoulders.
She nodded. "Like we're still on the run, there's too many people around, and some of them clearly must be out to get us?" She leaned into him slightly.
"Something like that, yeah."
"Definitely." She sighed.
"Is this a bad idea? Do you want to head home?"
She thought for a moment. "No, not really. Do you?"
"I think we'll be okay." He said, after giving it a moment of consideration. "We'll take it slow, and ease into it, yeah? We know what the issue is, we just need to face it."
"Together?" She asked.
"Always." He answered, earning him an adoring look and a kiss on the cheek.
Finally taking a beat to look around the store they ended up in, he realized they were in a store that seemed to cater exclusively to men.
"Hermione…" he just managed to grab her by the arm as she started walking deeper into the store. "Do you want to go somewhere else? I'm not sure there's anything in here for you. Surely we can find a spot that will cater to both of us?"
She beamed at him and let slip a bubbly laugh. "Sweetie, I've been looking forward to this since Thursday night. I'm going to go pick out a few things for you to try on."
Harry knew then that he was well and truly out of his depth, but in a way he rather enjoyed.
Mustering up his best impression, he replied, "As you wish."
Two hours and change later, they emerged from the store onto the street, each carrying a large bag or two in each hand.
The 'few things' Hermione had set out to have him try, rapidly grew to 'a few dozen', and Harry couldn't very well argue with her taste in clothes for him. Once they dialed in sizes, she'd been off like a shot, near burying him under a heap of shirts and pants and jackets she wanted to see him in.
Truthfully, Harry didn't mind at all. He'd never been afforded the opportunity to shop for new clothes, always getting hand-me-downs from Dudley, or items that had been thrifted and carelessly selected by Petunia without thought or consideration as to whether he'd enjoy or look proper in them.
He had to admit, Hermione chose things he both enjoyed wearing and looked good in. Plus, there were at least a few outfits that had put a certain gleam in her eye when he'd modeled them for her. While a few items had found their way back to the racks, all of those ended up leaving the store with them.
"I could go for a spot of lunch. Are you hungry at all?" He asked as they walked down the street.
"That sounds perfect." Hermione answered. She turned and looked across the street to see where they might go for food, just as Charles stepped out of the crowd in front of them.
Harry immediately stepped right next to Hermione as though to shield her and began scanning the throngs of people around them.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." Charles said in a placating tone. "We just noticed you were loaded down and wanted to offer to put your shopping in the car."
Hermione smiled at him and turned her attention back to their side of the road, not quite noticing Harry's stance. "That would be lovely. Thank you."
"It's no problem." Harry said, finally taking a breath and handing his bags to Charles. "Just a bit on edge. Thank you."
"No trouble at all. Do try to relax, though. We've got you covered and you're perfectly safe here today, alright?"
"Thanks, we will." Harry answered.
They both noticed as Charles deftly cast a glamour, making it look like he was carrying all of their bags in his hands, while in fact they were floating along next to him and his hands were free, and then walked away from them.
—X—X—X—
After crossing the street, they settled in at a street corner cafe, ordering drinks and a sandwich to share. They found a booth in a secluded corner of the sitting area, and slid in next to each other.
"So, are you having a good day so far?" Harry asked as Hermione took a sip of her chai latte.
"I very much am." she replied with a genuine smile.
"You sure you're not bored?"
"Bored? You can't be serious! I'm loving every bit of this."
"Really? We haven't even gotten you anything yet."
"Harry, if you don't see that the dark red shirt and a few of the others were every bit as much for me as they were for you, you're mad." She said with a mischievous smirk.
He smiled and shook his head, blushing. "I don't see it, but I'm glad if it makes you happy."
"Harry, I'm hardly an outlier here." she explained. "If you asked ten ladies if they'd like the chance to dress their man in whatever they fancied, I'm wager somehow you'd get twelve responses in the affirmative."
His eyes narrowed playfully over his mocha. "'Your man', am I?" he asked over-dramatically.
"Yes." she said plainly. "I've decided. You'd best get with the program."
"Then there's just one thing I need to sort out still..." He said, drawing a concerned look from Hermione for a moment before he continued with a lopsided grin. "How'd I get so lucky?"
She briefly considered leaning in to snog him senseless right there in the cafe when they were interrupted by the arrival of their food order; ham and brie on a toasted baguette and an order of chips.
"So, we still need to get you taken care of. Any ideas where you want to go?" He asked between bites.
"A few." She said, pausing to take a drink. "There are some stores I like further down the block, and one that always has the most lovely dresses. I might see if they have any good sales going on."
Harry leveled an unfazed look at her.
"What?" She asked.
"You hardly need to be concerned with sales, love."
She furrowed her brows. "I know, I just… I don't want to take advantage at all. You're giving me all of this and all I've done is-"
"Take advantage‽ All you did was save my life, Hermione." He took her hand. "Countless times. Honestly, I'll say it plainly. We're together now. If it's mine, it's yours."
"Harry, if you're saying that because you feel you owe me for… for any of that, you don't."
"If I offer something, it's because I want to and I want you to be happy and have all the best things. Not because I'm trying to settle some ledger in my mind, okay?"
She gave him a searching look.
"I know, I know… it's just, look. I know it's barely been a week, less really… But we've both been dancing around this thing for a while, haven't we?"
She nodded at him, and he squeezed her hand. "We have." She mumbled.
"All of this, it came out in about the highest stress situation I can imagine, but the long and the short of it is this." Harry picked up her hand. "I know we're young. I really don't want to put any pressure on you; but this is not a fling for me, and I couldn't imagine it's that for you either. So, I'm comfortable sharing what I have with you."
"I…" she hesitated. "Thank you, Harry. I'm sorry if I might need to hear that on occasion."
"Don't be. I understand."
"I don't think you really do, though, do you?" She asked, smiling but serious. "I spent so long talking myself out of the idea we could ever be… this."
"I do know. I did too." He put an arm around her and pulled her close.
"It's just been, a lot of change in a short time." She said, leaning her head against his.
"Yeah. It's been fast." He admitted.
She nodded, but didn't say anything for a moment.
"Speaking of fast," she said, dipping a chip into a puddle of malt vinegar and sitting up again. "I wanted to thank you. For stopping last night."
He eyed her reluctantly. "I've been meaning to talk about that, too."
"Really?" She asked, tilting her head to one side.
"Yeah. I wanted to apologize again. You were drunk, and I shouldn't have let it go even that far." He could feel his face warming as he thought about the previous night.
She was suddenly taking on color as well. "Harry, you were every bit as drunk as I was. It's okay, really."
"It's just… this is all pretty new for us, yeah? And we haven't really talked about…" he swallowed. "that… And I meant it before," his nerves had him speeding up, talking quickly. "I don't want to be over forward, or take advantage, or do anything you don't want me to, or ruin anything."
"You don't need to worry, sweetie. It's okay. We're okay, really. I feel much the same way." She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "You are not going to scare me off."
"You're sure?" He asked, looking her in the eyes.
"Harry. The main reason I'm glad we stopped last night is because I'm not certain what last weekend did to me, and if the potion is still effective after my-" she looked around the room and whispered the next word "magic, was affected."
"Potion?" Harry cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes. In about 5th year, Madam Pomfrey makes a potion available to all the girls in the castle. You take it twice a year, and it helps with cramps and such around that time of the month, but it's primarily a contraceptive."
"I… I see," Harry said, a bit surprised. "I didn't know that was a thing."
"Well, it's a reasonable concern, given all the less-than-suitably supervised minors in a giant castle with all manner of secret rooms and such, isn't it?"
"Er. I suppose it is." Harry admitted. He could see the logic. "It just never really occurred to me."
"Well, you kept rather busy trying not to die most years."
"Fair point." He chuckled. "It was still better than my aunt and uncle, but now that it's done, I don't know that I'll miss it as much as I once thought I might."
"Well, you don't have to go back if you don't want to."
"I'll have to give that some thought… Later." He smiled at her. "You about ready to go find some goodies for you, then?"
In answer, she grabbed their tray and stood up, and let a bit of her excitement shine through her eyes. "Let's go!"
—X—X—X—
An hour later, Harry quickly realized that clothes for girls were far more complicated than clothes for guys.
They had rapidly peeked into a few shops right off the bat, and for reasons he hadn't completely grasped, left almost immediately. Eventually, though, they'd landed in a store that met whatever amorphous criteria Hermione had been looking for. Harry then settled into his role as a sentient coat rack as she handed him various items and made her way through the aisles.
He'd always thought Hermione was pretty, but hadn't really turned an analytical eye to her wardrobe until he was standing in the store shopping with her. While most of their time at Hogwarts had been spent in uniform robes, Harry knew from the countless nights and weekends he'd spent around her that Hermione tended to dress with a sort of understated but stylish look when it was up to her.
He didn't know the first thing about style or fashion himself, and had leaned on her heavily to help pick most of his shopping earlier, but he was starting to get a feel for what she liked as he quietly observed her roaming the store.
A few hours and a few stores later, Hermione was browsing through a small store that seemed only to carry dresses and evening wear. She'd already found and set aside a few casual ones, but seemed hell bent on only selecting one more formal option.
Harry had a gown on a hanger in each hand, and was standing next to two more that were on racks, so Hermione could look at all of her favorites side by side.
"I'm a bit stuck, Harry. I like all of them." Hermione said, biting her lip in concentration while no doubt imagining a meticulous pros and cons list for each of them in her mind.
"Why not try them all on and see if any are better or more comfortable than the others?" Harry suggested, trying to be helpful.
She squinted at him suspiciously. "Half the fun of a formal night out is getting all done up and seeing your initial reaction to it."
"When have we ever-" he stopped mid thought. "The Yule Ball?"
"I'll never forget the gobsmacked look on your face. It was priceless." She smiled at him.
"Well, you were the best looking girl in the castle that night… and many others I might add."
She rolled her eyes but smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Well played, Potter."
"So, if it's all about me not knowing what's coming, what am I doing here? Would you like me to take a stroll for a bit and let you sort it out on your own?"
"I really didn't want to ask, but since you mention it, would you be okay with that?" She asked hesitantly. "This is supposed to be our day and I feel bad telling you to bugger off for a bit."
Harry chuckled at her phrasing. "Not at all. I totally get it. I'll leave these here and perhaps send the attendant back to help you out, if that's a thing." Hermione nodded and Harry continued, "we can meet out in front of the cafe we had lunch at in, say, an hour? That should give us plenty of time to get ready and still catch our reservation tonight."
"That sounds perfect." She beamed at him. "Where will you go?"
"I'm sure I'll find something to keep me out of trouble." He replied with a smirk.
"I wouldn't count on that." She narrowed her eyes jokingly.
"Hmm… yeah, neither would I." Harry shot back, turning out the door toward the street.
It was about half past four on a Saturday afternoon, and some of the smaller shops were beginning to close up, while many kept evening hours on the weekend.
Harry strolled about a block, making a concentrated effort not to jump at every unexpected sound on the busy street, and eventually noticed a rotating pole with a red, blue, and while stripe.
He went inside, and found a remarkably groomed older man sweeping the floor, and most of the lights in the main room turned off.
"Sorry," he started, "I didn't realize you were closed."
"Oh no, not closed just yet." The man said with a smile. "Just had my last scheduled cut and was tidying up a little. Did you need something?"
"Er, yes. I'm wondering if you sell razors and such." Harry glanced around and noticed a few small shelves with various bottles lined up neatly on display, but didn't think he was going to be lucky enough to find his mark here.
"Shave balm, and aftershave, yes. But no, not razors themselves, I'm sorry to say." The man set his broom against the wall and trod up to the front of the store. Seeing Harry's disappointment, he added with a chuckle "You got a hot date or something, lad?"
"Something like that, yeah." Harry said, as he turned toward the door.
"Well, it just so happens, I don't have any further appointments this afternoon, so you're bang on time for a walk-in if it's a shave you're lookin' for."
Harry gawked for a moment, never having considered getting that done by a barber. "Brilliant. Thank you."
Leaving the barber a short while later, he spotted one last shop that gave him pause. Glancing through a window at a clock inside a store, he realized he had plenty of time for one more stop before he had to meet Hermione.
—X—X—X—
The trip back to Grimmauld place was uneventful. Hermione noticed his fresh shave almost immediately and seemed approving of it.
When they got home, they each had a few trips up the stairs worth of shopping to bring in and sort out. While Hermione took her second trip up, Harry found Charles and retrieved two white boxes from his last stop, setting them carefully on a chair in the dining room. Once that was done, he took the last of his new wardrobe upstairs and got ready for their night out.
By the time quarter after seven came around, Harry was ready to go, and was waiting downstairs as Hermione finished getting ready. He was feeling good and wearing what might have been the nicest clothes he had gotten that day. Fitted black slacks and a black leather belt with a silver buckle, along with a deep, almost blood red silk shirt - the one Hermione had mentioned specifically at lunch - with a slender black tie and a jacket that matched his pants.
He even had a tie clasp that he'd manage to sneak into his order without Hermione noticing. It was silver and had a green stone set into it that he had noticed her admiring in the shop.
He hadn't been waiting long for her, but the anticipation was getting to him. As he ran a nervous hand through his hair, he was excited to see what she'd picked out, and his mind was wandering to the idea that he was actually about to go on a date with Hermione.
A proper date. With his best friend. Not just a stroll through Hogsmeade to get out of the castle, and not an evening trip to the library to look for an extra book for an upcoming test. A real date. Fancy clothes and a nice restaurant, conversation and all evening to spend however they wanted.
The thought was almost surreal. He'd never have imagined - well, that wasn't true, he'd certainly imagined… But he never dared to think this day would actually come. Just one week ago - he'd stood alone as he waited for Hermione to join him in that glorified storage room. His mind had raced in that moment, taking him through all the milestones of a life in love that he'd been certain at the time would never come to pass for him. Now though, it seemed that his luck had begun to change in a big way.
He didn't want to get too far ahead of himself, though. It was only a first date, after all. But at the same time, in some quite crucial ways, it wasn't. It felt like more than that. They already knew each other well, they had what he thought was good chemistry, they'd lived together, and shared victories and losses together.
This was definitely a new paradigm in their relationship, but it was hardly a brand new relationship.
He ran his hand through his hair once more and fiddled with his tie when he heard her start her way down the stairs.
When he first caught sight of her, despite his strongest efforts, his mouth fell open. She was somehow more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. The tight, wild curls of her hair had been tamed to a delicate wave, and she wore it down.
The dress she was in was none of the several she'd been considering before he left her on her own in that shop. A deep crimson red sheath style gown clung, rippling delicately on her torso and flowing slightly from her hips down to the floor, where it touched the ground without dragging noticeably. It had a subtle sparkle to it, sending occasional glints of light sparkling off of it. The dress was sleeveless and had a sweetheart neckline that would have been strapless, if not for a sheer bundle of delicate fabric that looped elegantly around the back of her neck.
By the time his brain finished taking her in, she was near the bottom of the stairs.
"You look…" he started, at a loss for words.
"That look, right there. That's the one." She beamed at him.
"…Amazing." He finally finished.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"You do too, Harry."
"Thanks." He said, looking down at the narrow space between the two of them.
"Are you ready to head out, then?" She asked.
"Yes! Wait, no, I almost forgot something." Harry replied, dashing into the dining room and grabbing the two boxes he'd left there earlier.
"What is that?" Hermione asked, seeing the box.
"Just a little something I picked up while you were picking out a gown."
"Staying out of trouble, eh?" She smiled.
"Exactly." He said, as he opened the larger box.
He did so delicately, and produced a beautiful corsage of deep red roses interspersed with baby's breath and vibrant green leaves, on a band of crimson and white striped elastic.
"Oh, I love it!" She said, as she took it out of the box and held it to her nose, inhaling deeply. "It's perfect! Thank you, Harry."
He took it back from her, holding open the cuff, and she placed her hand through it.
"Just like you." He said with a smile.
"You're developing quite a knack for flattery, Harry…" She gave him a smirk. "Keep it up." She looked over at the table behind him, "What's in the other box?"
"I thought it might be fun to match." He said and opened the box, producing a matching boutonniere.
She looked at him in disbelief. "That is so sweet of you, and I agree!" She took the small bundle of flowers and secured it to his lapel carefully with a few pins.
The drive to the restaurant Harry found was just over 20 minutes, and it took them past the Marble Arch park at the end of Oxford Street, near where they'd shopped earlier, Hyde Park, and Buckingham Palace. On the ride, they talked about Hermione's plans to start working out her magic. She was a complicated combination of determined and hesitant about it, while Harry was nothing but encouraging.
When they finally arrived at the restaurant, they were led by the maitre d' past tables dressed with white linens and walls with exposed brick to a corner by a window where they could see the street outside. Hermione smiled as Harry pulled out her seat for her before sitting down himself.
A waiter brought them menus, warm bread, and set up small plates with oil, pepper, and fresh grated cheese for dipping, then returned a few minutes later to take their order.
"So did you enjoy yourself today?" Harry asked once they were alone.
"I very much did… Did you?" Hermione answered.
"Certainly." Harry answered, "I enjoy spending time with you."
"Likewise." She sipped her water as Harry unrolled his utensils and fiddled with them idly.
Both of them were nervous and the quiet between them became slightly awkward.
"Does..." Harry started cautiously, "Don't take this the wrong way, but does this feel a bit, awkward to you?"
Hermione let out a breath of relief, "Gods, yes! I don't know why, though."
"I'm glad it's not just me then." Harry forced a smile.
"I might have a hunch." Hermione said, and Harry met her eyes and waited for her to continue.
"I'd love to hear it."
"I think… This isn't really a first date, is it?"
Harry pondered that idea for a moment before speaking. "In a way, I suppose it's not."
"First dates are for getting to know someone… I've known you quite well for nearly half my life." She said, extending her arm across the table.
He took her hand. "That's a good point. I actually wondered that earlier, you know? What do you talk about on a first date with your best friend?"
"Quite the conundrum." She offered.
"But I suppose it's not a bad problem to have, is it?" Harry asked. She tilted her head inquisitively, and he continued. "Well, we already know we get along. Hell, we've lived together most of the last year."
"That is a good point. This is my first first date, but I can't imagine it's typical." She said tentatively.
"There are some things… I'm curious about, but I'm not sure if you're ready." Harry said hesitantly.
"Really? You know you can ask me anything, Harry."
"I know, it's just… I don't want to spoil the mood, you know?"
"Well, now I'm very curious. Go ahead."
Harry thought to himself for a moment, considering his options.
"I feel like there's a degree to which you know far more about me than I do about you." Harry said.
"How do you mean?"
"Well, before we even met, you'd read my name and probably most of a biography in a few of your books."
"True."
"And well, I am hesitant to ask because of the state of things, but I don't even know your parent's names."
Hermione made a face and chewed her lower lip a bit, wiping her eye with her free hand.
"See, that's why I didn't want to… Gosh, I don't want to make you talk about anything that will hurt you, Hermione. Especially not right now."
"No, it's okay, really." She forced a smile.
"We can really talk about something else. It was dumb of me to bring it up." Harry was trying his best to backpedal, regretting ever mentioning them.
"My dad's name is Christopher. Mum is Annie." She said, smiling fondly.
"Christopher and Annie…" Harry looked thoughtful. "Annie. Christmas Eve, when you gave a name to Izzy."
"Yes. I'm not always as good as you at thinking on my feet." She said. "I just used my mother's name."
"It was a good move. Smart and fast, nothing wrong with that." Harry answered her subtle dig at herself.
"Harry, can I ask you a question about that night?"
"Of course."
"And will you forgive me and promise to not be too embarrassed if it's overly forward?" She was taking on a bit of color and she hadn't even asked the question yet.
Harry's focus sharpened, and he swallowed, but nodded. "I'll, er- do my best on that last bit."
"When you saw me with Izzy, and then when you saw all three of us in that reflection that night, you had a pretty strong reaction to it. I could feel it in the memory." She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, hoping it would let him know she was okay with his answer, whatever it was. "What was going through your mind right then?"
"Wow." He chuckled. "Getting right into it, eh?" He was turning red and before she could apologize for the question, he continued. "It's okay. This is a discussion we should definitely have at some point."
Hermione's eyes moved over Harry's shoulder and she squeezed and released his hand as the waiter returned to their table with their dinner. Hermione had a roasted chicken breast with a white wine sauce over mushroom risotto, while Harry had a portion of chicken Milanese with a light salad dressed in oil, lemon, and red wine vinegar.
They both turned their attention to their plates for a few moments and Harry took the opportunity to ponder his response to Hermione's question. She didn't repeat the question but looked at him as though waiting for an answer while she started eating.
"I, uh, I guess actually seeing the both of us together like that sort of brought some feelings I'd been trying to ignore to the surface for a moment. I will admit, I really liked the image of you and me out for a Christmas Eve stroll. We looked like a couple… And as you know, that's something I'd been thinking about for some time."
"And Izzy?" They said at the same time, both chuckling while Harry turned a deeper shade of scarlet.
"Merlin help me…" he said, shaking his head as Hermione tried in futility to wipe a grin off of her face at his awkwardness. "I had never had that thought before that exact moment." His smile faded and he looked somber and contemplative. "I've never really had a family, you know… I'd never so much as considered the idea of building one of my own someday."
"Is it something you want?" She asked delicately, not wanting to add to his discomfort at the conversation.
He sighed. "I'll admit, in that moment, I dared imagine it as I saw it… And enjoyed the thought." he shook his head sadly before continuing. "But, honestly, I don't know. Not anytime soon, obviously. And even then, I don't know if I have what it takes to be a parent. I never had a proper one, you know?"
"I think I understand Harry." She patted his arm softly. "We're both really young. These are questions for the future for sure, nothing we need to sort out on our first date… but it is good to know we feel somewhat similarly about some of the bigger things, you know?"
"It is." He scrunched his face up. "I mean, wait. We do?" Harry looked incredulous.
"Yes, we do." She stated simply, subtly avoiding eye contact for a moment.
"How can you possibly think you don't have what it takes? You can do literally anything you've ever set out to."
"I," she hesitated. "Am not sure if you've noticed, but socially I'm a bit of a mess, Harry. I'm awkward, and bookish, and-"
"Hermione, stop. You're brilliant, capable, and competent." Harry was speaking with the utmost confidence. "You might intimidate some people at first, but don't pay them any mind. Many people are put off by strong women, but that is their problem, not yours. If someone's too dim or old-fashioned to see you're amazing, they're not worth your time."
"You really mean that, don't you?" She wasn't sure whether she should burst with the swell of emotion his words sent her, or leap across the table and snog him again. That thought had already crossed her mind a few times since they left for their shopping trip that morning.
"I do indeed. I'd say I wish you could, but I know you've already seen yourself through my eyes, Hermione. You saw it yourself."
"Thank you, then." Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled at him. "You really know what to say today, don't you?"
"Sorry if I'm being too… direct? I'm not sure that's the right word."
"Not at all, actually I have to say, I appreciate this side of you, the openness. It seems like you're more in tune with yourself than you've ever seemed to be before."
"Weird, isn't it?" Harry asked with a bittersweet smile. "I feel different than I did before…"
"How do you mean?"
"I'm not really sure. After I …came back… last week, I felt powerful. More than I'd ever felt before. And now, it's like my thoughts are… I'm not sure if 'clearer' is the right word for it, but something feels different. I used to have a harder time getting my thoughts out."
"Is it troubling you? None of that sounds 'bad' really."
"It's just, I think it's because whatever part of him is out of me now." He hung his head low and cut a piece of chicken on his plate. "It's just making me wonder how much I missed. How much better I could have been all these years."
"Harry, your one flaw is that you never see the good in yourself… You've been pretty amazing the entire time I've known you. Even without considering everything you've been through."
"You think so? Do you think it will continue to get better now that he's… gone?"
"I certainly don't see that being a negative, Harry."
"That's fair." He said, finishing his last bite. "I just worry I'll change too much; become a different person."
"Harry, if anything, you'll only become more yourself than ever before. That isn't a bad thing at all. In fact," Hermione continued. "I'd bet that will be the best thing to come of this whole mess."
"We'll see…" he leaned forward to whisper to her. "My money is still on this, though." He squeezed her hand and she all but melted.
For all of his intricacies, all of his admittedly justified moodiness in the past, Hermione had loved that he always seemed to remain true to what mattered most, despite his circumstances. Seeing him now, apparently more happy and content than he'd ever been before, warmed her heart. She was excited to learn this new, or perhaps old, side of Harry and see what it held for the both of them. He'd always been kind and caring at the core, but his smooth romanticism over the last couple of days was a recent development.
He wasn't 'laying it on too thick' or anything, just being more thoughtful and outwardly caring than she'd ever seen before, and while she'd loved him even when he was carrying darkness within him, she was somehow starting to fall even harder for this new, more loving version of Harry.
—X—X—X—
I started to come around
The dogs are backing down
I'm not afraid to see
The devil's gone underground
This tightrope's been cut down
And I can finally breathe
You, looked at me as you walked in the room
Like the red sea, you split me open
Somehow I knew these wings were stolen
I'm not dying
All you did was save my life
Pulled me out of that flat line
Put the heartbeat back inside
I'm not dying
All you did was get me through
I owe every breath to you
Heart and soul unparalyzed
All you did was save my life
Artist: Our Lady Peace
Track: All You Did Was Save My Life
Album: Burn Burn
20