Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but the characters and settings belong solely to J.K. Rowling, to whom be praise, honor, and endless profits (to none of which do I lay claim, now or ever). The story title is from the song of the same name, words and music by Irving Berlin.
Author's Note: This story is based on, and directly references, events and concepts introduced in Patronus and Key To My Heart, and anyone who has not read those stories is advised to do so before proceeding.
"Give us a look, then," Ron wheedled for the thousandth time in the last hour -- or so it seemed to Harry as he sighed wearily, removing his glasses to rub his stinging eyes. The tears which his massaging fingers called forth were welcome, washing away the dry itchiness which his deep, unblinking concentration had wrought.
"Don't you have something better to do?" Harry said, not bothering to disguise his annoyance. "Blimey, it's like trying to work with Hedwig perched on my shoulder."
"Come on, Harry," Ron persisted, his good humor not diminished by Harry's shortness. "You've been at it for a month now. You must be nearly finished! We'll be graduating in a week, and I know you'll want to -- "
"Okay," Harry relented, as much to derail Ron's train of thought as for any other reason. "I guess it's as good as I can get it. Let's go to the window where the light's better."
Ron followed Harry to the window that looked down from the modest study of the Head Boy quarters at the very top of Gryffindor Tower. The Hogwarts grounds lay spread out like a bright green picnic cloth, dotted with tiny black "ants" which were Hogwarts students enjoying the warmth of the late June day. Hagrid's cabin was just visible in the distance, squatting like a gnarled toad on the fringe of the Forbidden Forest. Standing at the window, Harry reached into the neck of his robes and withdrew what appeared to be an empty hand. At a touch of his wand, however, a Concealment Charm dissolved, revealing a fine gold chain extending from Harry's neck to his left hand. Harry slipped the chain from around his neck and handed it to Ron, the fingers of his left hand releasing the object cradled in his palm with no little reluctance.
"Don't drop it out the window," he warned Ron, his eyes deadly serious. "Trust me, I will Curse you into the twenty-first century."
"No worries," Ron sang out as he caught up the object through which the chain was threaded and held it up to the early afternoon light. His mouth opened slowly, his eyes wide and unblinking. For one of the few times in his life, words utterly failed him. He handed the chain back to Harry with great care.
"When are you giving it to her?" Ron asked as Harry pulled the chain over his head and reactivated the Concealment Charm with a tap of his wand.
"Dunno," Harry said with considerably less enthusiasm than Ron had expected.
"You can't wait too long," Ron reminded him. "You know she's going off with her parents on a holiday to America as soon as she gets home. She's been talking about it all year. It'll be their last family outing before she starts her new job in the Fall, so you know she's not going to put it off, even for you. She did promise to be back in time for your birthday, but do you really want to wait a whole month?"
Harry's only reply was an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. Ron's sky-blue eyes narrowed sharply.
"What is it, Harry? You -- you can't possibly have...changed your mind?"
Still Harry said nothing. He sat on the window ledge and looked down on the peaceful school grounds, at the students moving across the lawn far below like so many specks on the Marauders' Map. His hand rose and came to rest on his bosom, covering the unseen chain and the object suspended therefrom.
"Have you gone 'round the bend?" Ron exploded. "All you've been talkin' 'bout for two years now is how you can't wait to graduate so you can finally ask Hermione to marry you! Okay, so we haven't officially graduated, but finals are over and our N.E.W.T.'s are all in. You got the third highest marks in Seventh Year, Harry! My mum'd eat ten pounds of vomit-flavored Bertie Bott's Beans to see me graduate that high!"
"You did great," Harry said evasively. "Better than Fred and George -- "
"Don't bollocks me, Harry," Ron said in a quiet voice that carried infinitely more power than his previous shout. "Are you going to propose to Hermione or not?"
Harry made no slightest move to indicate that he had heard Ron. Indeed, he continued to stare out the window as if Ron were not there. Sensing the futility of further discourse, Ron turned wordlessly and strode across the chamber, disappearing down the spiral staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room with a swish of his black robes.
When the echo of Ron's footsteps had faded, Harry sat in the silence which was broken only by his own turbulent thoughts. He continued to finger the chain around his neck, feeling the delicate weight of the object pressed against his chest.
"I do love you, Hermione," Harry said softly, his eye following a hawk that was describing lazy circles above the Forbidden Forest. "But you need to be free. Free to fly as high as you can without anything -- or anyone -- weighing you down."
Harry sighed deeply, pressing the back of his head against the cool stone of the window frame.
"I love you," he repeated. "And the best way I know to show it...is to let you go."
Author's Note: Sorry if this first chapter is a bit short. Next time we'll dig a little deeperinto Harry's reasoning. Until then, thanks for reading.