Something Rings True by Wizardora

Rating: G
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 04/08/2007
Last Updated: 04/08/2007
Status: Completed

This is another of my 7for7 entries. Harry and Hermione experience a little confusion over a
muggle object.




1. Something Rings True
-----------------------



Something Rings True

The wedding was starting to wind down. A cool breeze swept around under the marquee, dancing
around the two dozen or so remaining guests. It was late, well past midnight, though the joy and
excitement of the day rendered concepts of time vague and hazy. A silver sickle moon blazed down
from the night sky turning the white dome of the marquee a striking shade of gold.

Harry and Hermione were standing a little away from the rest of the party. They watched as
assorted members of the Weasleys and the Delacours square danced in circles, chortling at the
antics but thinking only about a topic of a far different nature. Hermione was eager for Harry to
recount *his* version of things; he was only concerned about her feelings, and why he had been
so stupid as to not consider them sooner. He had the sense that his entire concept of things was
breaking down, though he didn't think this was necessarily a bad thing.

“Tell me again,” Hermione whispered.

“Tell you what?” asked Harry determinedly evasive.

“What you said when we were dancing,” Hermione implored. “We have to talk about this. Oh, Harry
- we have to find out what this means.”

“It doesn't mean anything,” said Harry, avoiding the silvery twinkle in Hermione's eyes.
“I just didn't like it, that's all.”

“What didn't you like?” Hermione was pushing and Harry knew his resolve couldn't hold
out.

“I didn't like you dancing with *him,*” said Harry pointedly, unable to restrain a
bitter trace from his voice.

“But why-”

“Because I didn't like seeing Viktor Krum with his hands all over you, alright?” said Harry.
“I saw it and I didn't like it. You asked - I've told you.”

“I just wanted to know why,” said Hermione in a hurt voice which wrenched Harry's insides
with guilt. “Besides, there was nothing in it. It was just for old times.”

“I could have accepted that if you hadn't told me what you did just before you danced with
him,” said Harry. “Now you have to explain. You didn't like it when I was with Ginny, even
though she said you encouraged her? You never said anything.”

“How could I?” said Hermione. “What would you have said if I turned around and starting hexing
Ginny for kissing you? It would hardly have been subtle.”

“No, but we've been friends for years. I know we've been getting closer lately but if
you felt, well, *more* for me you could have said ages ago.”

“And you would have gone for me, would you? With Cho on one hand and Ginny on the other? Give me
a little more credit than to think you'd have picked me over them.”

“Haven't I done just that, though?” said Harry. “Maybe it was a bit subconscious, maybe I
didn't realise it but I have picked you over them. You just never gave me enough respect to
give me the choice. I never knew you liked me so I never considered it. I'm a bloke - we
don't see things until they poke us in the eye.”

Hermione laughed. They looked back towards the dance floor where only Fred and Verity, the girl
from the twins' joke shop, were still swaying along to the slow music.

“You know, I liked dancing with you,” said Harry quietly. “I've never liked it before. But
it was, you know, okay with you.”

“I'll take that as a compliment - I think!” Hermione said, half-laughing. “You weren't
bad either. Viktor is a bit duck-footed, not at all graceful.”

“Yeah, I did think he was a bit crummy,” said Harry absently.

“Your jokes are terrible,” said Hermione pityingly. “You could get a job writing them for Muggle
crackers.”

“Ho ho ho,” said Harry.

“Or be Santa Claus.”

Harry didn't even bless this comment with a response. He wanted to say something important
or explanatory, but true to his track record in these sorts of situations his mind seemed to have
turned to lead. Hermione, for once, didn't appear to have the right words either and for
several moments they stood watching the remnants of the party in awkward silence.

The band played their last number to a smattering of polite applause. Harry watched the portly
figure of Mr Delacour cross the dance floor to shake hands with each of the band members before
collecting his wife on the way out of the tent. The others began drifting off too and Harry had
barely turned to move that way himself when he felt Hermione's arm slip along his and her hand
encircle his own. A brilliant tingle, like a thousand bolts of lighting, shot along Harry's
hand where Hermione's cool skin touched him. It was a sensation more powerful than anything
he'd ever known.

Harry felt himself being steered across the room towards the dimly lit exit. The candles all
around had burnt down to almost nothing, casting long shadows against the weak orange glow. Harry
stared squarely ahead trying hard to concentrate against the highly distracting little circles
Hermione was tracing across the back of his hand. When they reached the exit, she turned to
him.

“You're going back to the Burrow tonight?” she asked. He nodded - it was all he felt capable
of. “I think I'm going to go home, see mum and dad while I can. Will you be here tomorrow?”

“No,” said Harry. “I have to go back to Privet Drive for one last night. The protection spell
will be cast for the final time and I never have to see the place again.”

“So I won't see you for two days?” said Hermione, slightly hysterical. “I can't do that.
Not after everything tonight. You will give me a ring, won't you, Harry?”

A *what?* Harry thought desperately. He had a fleeting gladness that he hadn't blurted
his thought out but his answer still sounded dodgy.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“Oh, Harry-”

Then she did it, in front of the last stragglers of the party. She threw her arms around him,
threw abandon to the wind and kissed him deeply, as though she'd been waiting all her life for
this moment. Harry's mind seemed to have left his body; he felt so light headed that it was as
if his soul had floated up and was circling around watching the scene from above. Slowly,
reluctantly, Hermione broke their embrace. She looked around guiltily but no-one seemed to be
watching.

“Sleep well, I'll see you soon,” she said and with another quick peck on the cheek she left
the place and was gone.

Harry was now alone in the marquee. He stayed several minutes to compose himself, uncertain as
to whether his euphoric sense of mind was from Hermione's soft kiss or the gallon or so of
butterbeer he guessed he had drunk. He touched his own lips, trying to prolong the impression of
their missing partner but in no time at all the sensation had gone and Harry thought he'd
better get indoors before he was missed.

The Weasleys were in the kitchen of the Burrow. Mrs Weasley was making some late night
sandwiches for the twins, Mr Weasley was dropping off in an armchair with his glasses askew on the
end of his nose, while Ginny and Ron were doing one of the puzzles from the Daily Prophet. Harry
went to join them.

“What's that you're doing?” he asked. Ginny got up quietly and walked away; Harry
watched her go, confused. He looked to Ron for an answer.

“Just ignore her,” said Ron quietly. “She's just moody and tired probably. She'll be
back to normal by the morning.”

“Oh,” said Harry absently. “Look, I'm going to go to bed. I'm shattered. I'm going
to fall on my backside if I don't lie down.”

“Alright,” said Ron. “I'll just finish this and I'll be turning in myself.”

Harry bade goodnight to everyone and made his way up the crooked staircase. He passed
Ginny's room, the door shut tight, and mounted the last set of steps to Ron's room. He
flopped down on the bed, his head awash with all that had happened. He was looking forward to a few
minutes peace where he might examine these new feelings; not that they were entirely new, he
thought, just now he could see them for what they were. He had gotten no further than this, though,
when the bedroom door opened and Ron entered with a strangely shrewd look on his face.

“So,” he said, half-grinning as he crossed the room and sat on his bed. “When did you get so
sly, mate?”

“What are you on about?” said Harry.

“You know very well,” said Ron, positively smirking now. “You and Hermione. You kept that
quiet.”

Harry started. He wasn't sure what shocked him most - the fact that he and Hermione had been
seen or that Ron seemed perfectly okay with it. He'd always assumed there was something between
his two best friends.

“You - you don't mind?” said Harry slowly.

“Mind? No, I think it's great, unlike Ginny,” said Ron. “Can't say I'm surprised,
apart from the fact it's taken you this long. I thought you would have got together ages
ago.”

“What?” said Harry. “Why would you think that?”

“Remember those Rita Skeeter articles?” said Ron (“How cold I forget,” said Harry). “Well I
hadn't looked at you two like that before them but after I could see where she was coming from.
I tried to get you together but you wouldn't listen.”

“Like how?”

“Going off with Lavender? I thought it might make you and Hermione closer but then she
didn't do anything, you had that weird little obsession with Ginny. It was a mess. It seems
sorted now though.”

“Well, she wants me to buy her a ring,” said Harry.

“A ring? Wow! Talking about moving fast. Making up for lost time are we?”

“Must be,” said Harry. “But I don't know the first thing about jewellery. Plus I don't
even know her size.”

“Rings have sizes?” said Ron, aghast. “I didn't know that. I thought they were all the
same.”

“I mean, I'm worried,” Harry began, voicing a nagging concern, “about what sort of ring to
get? Did she mean friendship ring? Eternity ring?” Harry gulped. “Engagement ring?”

“Engagement seems a bit much, even for Hermione,” said Ron. “Then again if she's fancied you
for ages and she's seen you with other girls maybe she wants to secure you.”

“Secure me!” Harry laughed. “What is this? Pride and Prejudice?”

“What's that?”

“Oh, never mind,” said Harry waving an impatient hand. “What am I going to do?”

“Sleep on it,” said Ron sagely. “We'll nip down to Diagon Alley first thing. There's a
jewellers there. They can help.”

It wasn't the best night of sleep Harry had ever had. He dreamt that he and Hermione were
shopping for wedding rings and she was desperate to have his Firebolt attached to a ring. Harry
protested that he needed his broom and though he would gladly give it to her it was hardly
practical. She complained that Krum had given her a ring that spouted out hundreds of chocolate
frog cards and that Harry should be that thoughtful. He woke in a cold sweat, rolled over and tried
to forget the dream but instead fell back to sleep and had another where he gave Hermione a ring of
lead covered in gold that grew so heavy it snapped her finger off. Her wailing cries kept him awake
for hours…

The jeweller at Diagon Alley was very helpful the next day. Clearly sensing that neither Harry
nor Ron had ever bought a ring before the shop assistant was very obliging. She asked very polite
questions about the nature of the ring they were after, the sort of person it was for and so on.
Harry was eventually shown a drawer of rings that were tailored to his needs. He glanced through
them; some were uselessly gaudy and Harry knew Hermione wouldn't like them; others were far too
chunky for Hermione's dainty hands. Then, at the end of the row, the very one jumped out at
Harry.

It was silver and shiny and inside the metal seemed to be moving. It looked like Mercury, Harry
thought, only it was contained in the band of the ring. On top was a tiny otter with silvery jewels
cut into the eyes and around the body. As though he knew what he wanted all along, he chose it.

“Ah, an excellent choice, sir,” said the assistant. “This particular range is infinitely popular
due to the adjustable ring band. Fits all sizes. May I ask about the otter choice?”

“It's, um, personal,” said Harry. “She'll get it.”

“I understand, sir,” said the assistant knowingly. She wrapped the ring inside a small black box
and Harry handed over his money.

“What is the point with the otter?” asked Ron as they were walking down Diagon Alley a few
minutes later.

“It's her Patronus,” said Harry. “I think she'll appreciate that.”

“Wow, Harry,” said Ron, impressed. “I didn't remember that. You'll have to teach me how
to think like that one day.”

Harry grinned as they made their way into the Apparition Points and whirled back to the
Burrow.

* * *

Harry, through restlessness, decided to stop in on Hermione on his way to Privet Drive. He
realised that he didn't actually know where she lived so turned to someone he did. Hedwig was
roused from sleep with this most unusual of requests and led the way, Harry riding his Firebolt
close behind under cover of his Invisibility Cloak. They flew for ages and Harry was just getting
numb when Hedwig suddenly began a steep dive. He followed and swooped softly into a small wooded
area.

Hedwig flew over and settled on the fence of a pretty little house at the end of a cul-de-sac.
Harry draped the Cloak over his broom and propped it against a tree before walking to Hedwig. She
gave him an affectionate nip as he stroked her on his way to the front door. He knocked three times
with the silver doorknocker over a brass number 7 and waited with anxiety growing in his chest.

Footsteps sounded on laminate flooring through the door and it was opened by a prettyish woman
with an expanse of bushy brown hair. She smiled a curious smile at Harry and her eyes cast behind
him to the large snowy owl sat on her garden fence. She smiled again and looked at Harry.

“Don't tell me,” she said with a grin. “You're looking for Hermione?”

“Yes, actually,” said Harry. “How did you know?”

“Well, the owl's a dead giveaway,” said Mrs Granger. “Hedwig, isn't it?”

“How did you know?” Harry repeated.

“She's been here that often she's almost Hermione's second pet,” said Mrs Granger.
“So you must be Harry? I can see why she likes you.”

“Likes me?”

“Oh she's told us everything about you. If I had a pound for every time she said your name
in this house I'd have been able to retire by now.”

“Mum? Who're you talking to?” Hermione had appeared in the hall. “Oh, Mum! What are you
doing? Oh, Harry - come in, come in.”

“Of course, where are my manners,” said Mrs Granger. She stepped aside and Harry walked to
Hermione. She gave an embarrassed scowl to her mother before ushering Harry upstairs and into her
bedroom. It was decked around all walls with bookshelves teeming under multiple volumes. There were
several dolls in one corner that looked like they'd hardly been used.

“Harry, oh, Harry it's *wonderful* to see you,” said Hermione closing her door. “But
why are you here? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong,” said Harry. “I just thought about what you said at the wedding. And
well,” Harry took out the ring and gave it to her. She opened it, gave a little squeal and slipped
it on, blushing and glowing all at once.

“Harry, it's gorgeous,” she said admiring her hand. “But I don't understand, what's
this about?”

“Well, you did say,” Harry began. “You said to give you a ring, so I did.”

Hermione giggled, laughed and giggled some more.

“Oh, Harry, sometimes you're so hopeless it's cute,” said Hermione after a minute. “When
I said `give me a ring' I meant phone me, you know - with a telephone.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Harry suddenly feeling very stupid. “Sorry.”

“Oh no, don't apologise,” said Hermione. “I like your way much better.”

She kissed him again. If this is what being stupid means, Harry thought, it's not all
bad.

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