Just After the Beginning

They were sitting by the lake, watching the giant squid lazily extending its tentacles. Her with her legs stretched out in front of her, propping herself up with her hands behind her, and he sitting simply with his legs crossed. It would have been another one of their peaceful, comfortable silences were it not for the matter that was currently plaguing Harry’s mind.

In the past few days, Harry had had to relive the events surrounding the Defeat of Voldemort too many times to count. First for Dumbledore, then the remainder of the Order, the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet to name a few. However, there was one small, yet gaping part of the story he had held back from all of them.

Only two people knew about it, and she hadn’t spoken of it since. Nor had Harry. For Harry it had been so unreal and unfathomable, he couldn’t react to it at the time, and he wasn’t sure he could now. That, coupled with her silence, was the reason Harry had almost convinced himself that he had imagined it.

Almost.

He watched her, noticing that The Defeat had had a definite effect on her appearance. The look of anxiety that she so often wore wasn’t quite so evident now, and colour had returned to her cheeks. Harry remembered how pale she had looked in the final days leading up to the battle. Even her hair, which while still bushy as ever, now seemed to be electrified by the fire of her personality, rather than frazzled by her constant worry. There were changes in her behaviour too, she wasn’t quite so serious, and rather than voicing her every thought on matters, as she normally would have done, she now seemed to prefer quiet reflection. Right now she was the picture of serenity.

Although not everything about her had changed. She still worried about him, fussed over him and watched out for him like she had always done. Harry smiled inwardly as he recalled how she had handled a certain troublesome Daily Prophet reporter, who had swooped down upon him, pestering him as he was on his way to a check-up at St Mungo’s (Harry noted that he hadn’t laid eyes on a member of the press since). Everything she was before she still is now, she just wore it differently, and she appeared so much more brilliant because of it.

The only real difference was that now Harry realised just how much she has done for him, and has never done for anyone else. For him. While Harry had always thought he had appreciated her, he now realised he had never even begun to understand how to appreciate her as she deserved. He wondered how he could have been so stupid, dense, thick – all of it – to have never realised the true extent of her efforts on his behalf, and the possible meaning behind all of it.

This brought Harry back to that unspoken moment. What did happen that day? Could he have imagined it? Was it just wishful thinking on his part? If he imagined it, is he also imagining everything else to be more significant than it really is? And say he hadn’t imagined it, that it had all happened exactly as he had remembered it, and that everything meant what he thought it had meant. What did Harry think of that?

Every thought in Harry’s head that had been chasing after each other for days came to a sudden standstill. His mouth opened slightly as he looked away from her and looked in the direction of the giant squid he wasn’t really seeing. Harry’s mind had been turning this subject over every which way since then, and yet he had never encountered this question. Again, how could he be so dense?

He knew exactly what he thought.

It was a gift. A beautiful, precious and incredibly, unexpected gift. And he wanted to return it to her in equal measure. He only hoped he was able to measure up to what she deserved.

And of course, he hoped he wasn’t imagining the whole thing. He had to know. There was nothing else for it. He turned to face her, and was just about to speak when –

‘Yes Harry, I said it. You didn’t imagine anything.’

Harry had forgotten that Hermione always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

‘Oh.’

And after many days of deliberation, upon finally getting the answer to the question that had been haunting him for days, that was his response. He looked down at the grass.

Harry could feel Hermione watching him. In all his thinking, it hadn’t occurred to him what to do if he had got the answer he wanted. He slowly looked back up. Hermione still looked the picture of serenity, everything Harry wasn’t feeling now. Not only that, she looked faintly amused.

‘You were waiting for me to say something the whole time, weren’t you?’

‘Does that really shock you?’

‘Well, yes. This is not what I expected.’

‘What did you expect?’

‘To find out I did imagine it. Or for you to deny it. I’m not sure what’s worse. Either way, I expected to make a whopping great fool of myself.’ Harry looked down into his lap.

‘What would you have done if I had denied it?’ she asked shrewdly.

‘I … I don’t know. I’d be stunned, probably. Or I would be having a very heated argument with you right now for denying it. I’m not quite sure,’ the moment Harry answered, was the moment he had just realised he was being dense again. He was the one who had wanted answers and yet she was asking most of the questions. And that last question had made Harry inadvertently reveal his feelings about it before he had meant to. Yet another point to the smartest witch Harry has ever known. How did he survive this long if he’s so stupid? He knew the answer to that, of course: Hermione.

Harry looked up at her. Hermione was smiling at him.

‘So now you know it happened, and now I know you’re glad I didn’t deny it,’ she summarised.

‘I walked right into that one, didn’t I?’

‘Oh, wonderfully.’

Even her voice sounded like it was smiling.

‘Erm, Hermione, I think … I need to hear you say it again, just to be sure I understood,’ he managed to get out. Harry looked into her eyes. She looked right back into his. She spoke, her voice not wavering in the slightest:

‘I love you Harry Potter, you great prat.’

Harry smirked.

‘You didn’t have to quote the whole thing word for word you know. “I love you” would have done just fine.’

‘Yes, but I felt it was still appropriate. Which brings me to another question,’ Hermione looked at him pointedly. For once, Harry was not being dense.

‘Yes, Hermione Granger. I love you too.’

Hermione sighed happily, smiled, and looked out into the lake.

Harry stared at her. He was about to speak when –

‘Were you expecting something a bit more dramatic?’ Hermione asked while she was still looking towards the lake.

Harry blinked.

‘Erm, yeah. This is a big deal you know, how can you be so calm at a moment like this?’

‘Harry, just because something is a ‘big deal’ it does not mean we have to be melodramatic about it. This is a simple thing, why make it so complicated?’ Hermione looked back at him.

‘You knew,’ he said quietly.

‘Yes and no. I knew how I felt a long time ago, but you? That was different. I didn’t know how you felt until that day, and everyday since then, watching you thinking about it, waiting –’

‘– for me to wake up to myself and talk to you,’ Harry finished for her, ‘OK, I understand now,’ he smiled at her. ‘You have already gone through the stage that I am in right now, and all worries are behind you, and that’s why you’re so calm and I’m still expecting drama. None of this is news to you; we’re just making it official.’

‘Exactly. You might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, Harry, but once you get started, you catch up very quickly.’

‘Right as always, Hermione’

Hermione raised her eyebrows. ‘I think that’s a first. I don’t think you’ve ever admitted to me that I was right about something. Maybe you’ll get some drama after all.’

Harry’s only response was ‘Hmm’.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, we’ve made it official now. So what’s next?’ Harry wondered.

Hermione sat up now, and turned to Harry.

‘I suppose the next logical step would be a first kiss,’ Hermione said matter-of-factly, her voice only slightly wavering.

‘I … suppose so,’ said Harry quietly.

So Harry and Hermione shared their first kiss. It wasn’t a great kiss, by any means, it was awkward, and neither had had much practice. There were no fireworks, bells ringing, audiences cheering and the Earth certainly didn’t move. Nevertheless, it was the first kiss. The first of many. But in the years that followed, Harry and Hermione could say that they have gotten a lot better at it since.