Hermione's Box
Authors Notes: Welcome to my companion piece to 'Harry's Album', Hermione's Box. The premise of this is pretty much the exact same as what 'Harry's Album' was- Hermione has a box full of her own memories.
Reading of 'Harry's Album' would be good- I'm not going right back to the start with this, it pretty much picks up where 'Harry's Album' left off and continues from there. So some things might get a little confusing if you haven't read 'Harry's Album'.
And that's all I have to say- enjoy the first part, it's nice and long and very romantic :D
The golden rays of sunlight flooded over Hermione, a soft breeze bringing in the warmth of the new day. She rolled over in her bed carefully and saw that the curtains on the large windows had been opened and the window itself had been pushed out. She realised that Harry wasn't in bed with her, but he had left a note for her.
Darling, beautiful Hermione- I had to go into the office. I shall be home early. Do not leave that bed. Love you always and forever, Harry.
She rolled back onto her back and rested the note on her stomach.
'Your father is a very romantic man sometimes,' she said, stroking her stomach and laughing. 'And I feel so stupid talking to my own body.'
She felt around on the bedside table and found her wand hidden behind the alarm clock and used it to turn the stereo across the other side of the room on. She also used it to open the closet and summon a shoebox she kept hidden amongst all her other shoeboxes.
Seeing Harry that morning with his album had made Hermione yearn to go through her box again. The look on Harry's face when he realised Hermione had been watching him was priceless- she had felt him leave the bed and had followed not long after and sat on the stairs and watched him.
Harry had no idea that Hermione knew about his album. She had discovered it when she was packing his flat up and felt so touched that Harry would keep such mementos. And that was when she started to do the same, storing her things in an old shoebox, hoping one day to give it to Harry.
Sitting herself up in the bed she pulled the lid of the box and the scent of roses instantly hit her. The scent was coming from a small plastic sandwich bag filled with red rose petals and Hermione almost swooned at the sight…
As she entered the building the smell of cooking instantly hit Hermione- someone was having a feast.
'Probably the Holmes's,' she muttered to herself, checking the mail box before turning up the small hallway that led towards the door of the flat she and Harry had moved into only a month before.
The curious thing was that the scent of the food grew stronger and stronger as she got closer to the door. When she arrived at the door, she found a note attached over the peephole.
My love, it read, in Harry's handwriting. Tonight is about you. And us. When you get inside, follow the sign of the rose.
'Follow the sign of the rose?' she muttered to herself, pushing her key into the lock and opening the door. The scent of roses hit her instantly and she saw that there was a trail of red rose petals leading through the apartment.
Doing as the note instructed, she followed the rose and found they ended at the door to the bathroom. She entered and found a black dress she hardly ever wore hanging on the back of the door, another note on it.
I love you in this dress. Would you do me the honour of joining me for dinner, in this dress? After your bath, of course.
Turning around, Hermione saw that a bubble bath had been drawn and candles had been levitated into the air around the bath and soft music played. Harry had really pulled out all the stops.
She undressed quickly and slipped into the warm bath- it was the perfect temperature. She allowed herself to sink right down and as she did so, she sighed slightly. She had a feeling she knew why Harry was doing this for her and she was incredibly grateful.
Her publisher had been on her back since the moment her first book had hit the stands, wanting to know when to expect a second book from her. Hermione didn't quite know how to tell the very nice lady that it was probably going to be never- she just didn't have the patience to go through what she went through the first time- and she knew that Harry couldn't cope with it either. But despite her reservations, she'd spent the last few days deep in research- but she knew that her chosen topic was a lot easier this time and it was so easy she had already picked a title- 'Magical Creatures and their Sub-Standard Treatment'.
The bubbles in the bath slowly melted away and she reluctantly climbed out and eased herself into the dress, sliding the note that had been left on it into the pocket of her robes. Using her wand she managed to style her hair quite simply and she decided not to bother with any make up- she hated wearing it and knew Harry hated her in it.
When she opened the bathroom door, a new trail of rose petals had been laid and she followed them curiously back down the hallway, into the lounge room, where Harry was standing.
'Good evening, my love,' he said, holding out a bunch of roses. 'For you.'
'Harry-' she started to say, but Harry cut her off with a kiss.
'No, my love. You don't need to say a word.'
'But-'
'No,' Harry said, placing the roses on the back of the lounge. It was as he did this that Hermione realised he was wearing his 'nice' clothes- a nice pair of khaki's that she had bought him, along with a white open necked shirt. 'Come with me.'
He turned away from her and put both his hands out behind his back, and she took hold of both of them and allowed herself to be led into their kitchen. The small kitchen table had been pushed into the far corner and had been set for two, with the same floating candles from the bathroom casting a warm light.
'Sit,' he said, pulling the chair out for her and helping her in. With a wave of his wand two dishes of food came soaring over from the bench and landed perfectly on the table and Hermione started to drool. Harry had cooked her favourite- a hearty beef casserole with plenty of vegetables.
'Am I allowed to talk?' she asked playfully and Harry nodded. 'This- this is all wonderful. Thank you, Harry.'
'You're most welcome,' Harry replied, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his own. 'I did, of course, have an ulterior motive…'
'When don't you?' she joked.
'It's never a motive like this,' he said seriously and Hermione looked up from her plate and looked directly into his bright green eyes- she had never seen them look more alive.
'Well, what is this motive?' she asked, watching as the hand that wasn't holding onto hers fumbled around in his pocket. He pulled out a small scarlet box and put it on the table.
'I- I've been carrying this around for about two weeks now, trying to figure out how to do it best. I- I know that every woman dreams of this moment and- and I wanted to make it perfect.'
'Everything's perfect, Harry,' she whispered. 'You're perfect.'
'I'm glad… because, Hermione, I love you. You are half of me. And I don't know how I would live without you. I don't know what the future is going to hold, or what tomorrow will bring, I just know it will be eternally better if you were beside me, doing what you do best.'
'And what do I do best?'
'Save my arse,' Harry said and they both laughed. Harry climbed awkwardly off his chair and sat on one knee on the floor of the kitchen. 'Hermione Granger, will you marry me?'
'Did you even have to ask?' she said hoarsely, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
'I just wanted to- wanted to check,' Harry said, tears streaming down his own cheeks as he stood up and kissed her as hard as he could, whilst pushing the ring onto her finger.
'I love you so much.'
'I love you even more.'
Dinner was soon forgotten as, joined at the lips, they made their way slowly into the bedroom.