TITLE: Old Friends
AUTHOR: Catriona Rhiannon
RATING: PG. Ratings may change in any subsequent chapters hereafter.
CATEGORIES: Angst and Romance
SPOILERS: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
DISCLAIMER: Standard disclaimers apply. The characters of the Potter-verse belong to JK Rowling.
Unfamiliar characters and the entire plot of this story is based on "Merrily We Roll Along", a musical by
Stephen Sondheim, based on a play by George Furth.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, that's the answer, just above the author notes. Thanks for the reviews,
everyone! I'm glad that you think that this fanfic is not like every other fanfic. :D I definitely recommend seeing
the above musical; it's a fan-TAS-tic show.
Read and review, sil vous plait! I'm kinda stuck on the next chapter. Any suggestions?
OLD FRIENDS
II. That Harry
She looked the same and yet… different. She had gained a few pounds, but her eyes seemed hollowed-out and bland. Her curly hair had been messily put up in a twist, and her simple, black dress made her stand out amongst the colorful outfits that his guests considered haute couture. She had a little smile on her face, but it wasn't warm or shy. It was disdainful and mocking, something he had never thought he would associate Hermione with.
"I didn't think you'd accept," he said finally, after staring at her wordlessly for nearly a minute. "Er… thanks for coming."
"Thanks for inviting me," she replied, looking back at him over the rim of her glass. "Although I'm guessing her holiness doesn't know I'm here, does she?" Seeing the look on Harry's face, she let out a small chuckle.
"I thought so."
God, even her voice was different. Lower and brisker than the panicky squeals he remembered her for. Nothing was the same. Something tugged at his heart, a powerfully sad something, that caused him to clench his fists tightly, and made his voice sound like he was several years younger.
"Um… where's Ron?"
"He's not coming," she said shortly. She took a long swig of her champagne, which surprised Harry, since she had used to refuse to drink anything alcoholic, before answering him. "He's on his honeymoon."
His eyes widened. "Honeymoon? Ron? Did he and Lavender finally tie the knot?"
She simply stared at him before shaking her head. "Well, that confirms my speculations on whether you're still getting the Daily Prophet. He and Lav called it quits two-and-a-half years ago. He married Luna Lovegood last month."
Now Harry's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Lovegood? Looney Lovegood?! You're joking!"
"Don't you dare call her Looney, Harry Potter," she snapped. "You don't know us anymore, so you don't have the right to say anything of that sort."
She started walking towards the bar. "Bartender! Another glass please!"
Harry turned and grabbed her elbow. "Since when did you start drinking this much?"
She faced him, eyes flashing. "Since when did you start to care again?"
His eyes softened and he said, in a low voice, "I've always cared. I never stopped."
"You've got a funny way of showing it," she spat out, bitter and angry. She wrested her elbow out of his grip and grabbed the champagne flute from the bewildered bartender. She looked around at the terrace, where Harry was having the party held, saw all the people laughing and chatting and dancing, sneered, and drained half the glass in one gulp.
"Look at all this Harry. This is your life. This is what you chose to become," she said. She whirled around to face him, eyes indignant and angry. "Harry, I don't know who you are anymore, and the sad thing I just realized is that I'm starting not to care."
"What the hell happened Harry? Weren't we good enough for you? Was she? Are you happier now?" She glared at him.
"Hermione, I…" Harry drifted off, unable to say anything that could help the situation.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by the familiar tinkling of silver against glass. Harry looked up and saw that nearly every guest was looking at him, their spoons beating against their champagne flutes. On their faces were various shades of admiration and awe.
Hermione snorted and turned away.
Harry looked at her, before turning to face his guests and raising his glass to them in return. He saw a man step forward, and he recognized him as his lawyer, Jacob Farley. The babble from the guests died down when they saw that Jacob was about to make a speech.
"To Harry Potter, the greatest client any lawyer could ever dream of. Twenty-five years old, with three hits already under his belt, and a gorgeous, talented wife to boot! Is there anything you can't do, Harry?"
The guests tittered and whispered to one another, giggling loudly. Deirdree blew Harry a kiss from across the room. Harry forced a smile down at Jacob, and took a sip from his champagne glass.
"Oh, are we making speeches?" called a voice behind Harry.
He froze, and shook his head as his guests' chatter abruptly ceased, as if someone had suddenly cast a Silencing Charm. He saw Deirdree from across the room glance behind him and, realizing who spoke, suddenly shoot him a Look.
Hermione had her glass raised at Harry and a sneer painted on her face. "I guess I should be making one too, since I've know Harry since he was eleven."
The crowd quieted down, and Harry could feel the sweat at the back of his neck begin to run down his spine.
"To Harry Potter," she began, the crease between her eyebrows beginning to furrow, every word slightly slurred by the alcohol. "The Producer! The man who has everything! Money, love, and success. What can't you do, Harry? Except admit that you aren't who you really are?"
The crowd started to look confused and began to buzz amongst themselves.
Deirdree strode forward, and raising her voice to drown out Hermione's speech, "Would anyone care to come inside?" As the crowd continued to stare quizzically at Hermione, she continued to walk over to Harry's side, and upon reaching him, glared viciously. "What is she doing here?" she hissed.
"Excuse me!" yelled Hermione, waving her glass around, causing champagne to spill over the top. "I'm not done yet. Stay where you are! There is something I must say. You listening?"
"This," she said, gesturing at the wide patio, "Is all junk! But you, Harry Potter, you deserve all this!" She threw her glass down, causing it to explode into miniscule crystal pieces. The guests near her screamed in surprise. She turned to glare at them and lost her balance, crashing into the bar.
"Get out of here, drunk!" Deirdree yelled.
"Deirdree!" Harry said, holding her back.
"Get that drunken trash out of my house!"
Harry's gaze darkened, and he let go of Deirdree and walked to where Hermione was still trying to regain her balance. His eyes softened and sadness crept into his face as he helped her up.
Hermione looked at him. "Oh no. Now I won't be invited back, huh, Harry?"
Harry looked back at her, and told her quietly. "Hermione… I'm so sorry."
She stared at him for a long time, before telling him, under her breath. "I just wish you'd prove it, Harry." She stood up, and grabbed her bag from the nearest table. "Don't walk me to the door. I'll see myself out."
And as Harry watched her walk out of his patio, and out of his life, he felt the burden of all his mistakes in the past years weigh down on his shoulders.