Disclaimer: See Ficlet 1.
Author's Note: Two companion ficlets.
For Gil aka Romulus Lupin.
The Promise
She was getting married tomorrow. In just over 24 hours, she was going to be standing in front of all her nearest and dearest and pledging to love, honor and be faithful to her best friend, for the rest of her life.
But before she did, she had a final visit to make.
Late morning sunlight shone down on Hermione as she gazed at the tombstones of Harry's parents and his godfather.
She knew that somewhere, Lily and James and Sirius were looking down and watching over Harry. She knew it because she knew of the depth of love they'd felt for Harry, how much they had been willing to sacrifice, how much they had sacrificed, for his sake. And she knew they would be watching over him, because it was what she would do, were she in their situation. Theirs was the same love, the same depth of devotion, which she herself felt for Harry…
And so she stood here in this small little cemetery, paying a last visit to the tombstones of two people she'd never actually met and one man whom she'd known only for a few short years. She knelt and started speaking softly, somehow believing that somewhere, Lily, James and Sirius could hear her.
"Hello. I wanted to tell you, I'm marrying Harry tomorrow. I wish you could be there, for Harry's sake as well as my own, but since you can't, I want you to know how much I love him."
She fell silent, thinking. She wasn't nervous about tomorrow, felt none of the stereotypical bridal jitters. She knew that Harry loved her just as much as she loved him; she trusted him completely. And she knew that tomorrow's ceremony was only going to publicly affirm what was already true.
And yet, for all her certainty, all her trust, all her happiness, there were still some lingering fears. Fears she couldn't quite put into words, fears that went deep into her soul… Fears she couldn't really tell to anyone she knew, except, she suddenly thought, to these three people…
"I'm not nervous; I know this is right. I'm just afraid, afraid of all those things that make Harry who he is, afraid that he won't let me save him from himself… He always has this tendency to think he needs to do things alone, save people on his own, not because of his ego, you know, just because it's the way he is and also because, more often than not, he has had to be alone… I'm just afraid he won't let me help him the way I want to, the way I should help him…"
She paused, then continued with more certainty in her voice. "I'm not afraid that he'll stop loving me or that I'll stop loving him. I'm not afraid of what might happen in the future, as long as we're together…"
And she wasn't afraid of those things… What she was afraid of, the one fear that ate at her soul when she couldn't sleep at nights, the fear that encompassed all the others which she had just mentioned… She said it in a whisper, as if the thought was too terrible even to say out-loud. "I'm so afraid of losing him… That something will happen, which I can't protect him from, and take him from me before his time, before our time… He's always going to be in some danger from someone or other; it's part of being who and what he is, the symbol of the good in the wizarding world… But he's more than that. To me, he's my- my friend, my support, my strength, my love… He's mine- and I'm so afraid I'll lose him…"
There was silence for a minute as Hermione tried to compose herself.
There, she had admitted all her deepest fears that she'd until now been afraid to put into words even to herself… And it was a relief to have done so, even if only to three people who were long-dead, a relief to have put all her fears into words and expressed them aloud… She took a deep breath, letting her hand rest on the tombstone of Lily and James, and stood up straight now, feeling some of her confidence return. Her fears weren't gone, couldn't be completely put to rest, but they were relieved in some measure by the simple act of putting them into words and speaking them aloud.
She looked down at the names of Harry's parents, his godfather, and felt more words well up inside her, the words she needed to say to them, first, before she said them tomorrow in front of the rest of their friends and acquaintances.
"I, Hermione Granger, promise you that I will love Harry Potter for the rest of our lives. I promise to be his friend, his partner, his strength when he needs it. I promise to help him, support him, believe in him, and take care of him. I will be faithful to him. I promise to protect him from anything which threatens him, with all that I have in my power. I promise to save him from himself, even, when I need to. I promise to always be by his side, for better or worse, no matter what happens."
The words were spoken quietly and solemnly, the depth of her commitment clear in her tone and in her eyes, if anyone had been there to see.
She stood there for another minute, her hand resting on the tombstone, before she stepped back.
"I promise," she said, softly, one last time, before she turned to leave the cemetery.
And now her steps were sure, confident.
She was getting married tomorrow.
Whatever the future held in store for them, she and Harry would face it together-and they would survive. Together…
The Blessing
The young man stood alone in the graveyard, his gaze fixed on the little group of three tombstones in front of him.
He was getting married tomorrow… And he was happier than he'd ever been in his life. He was happy with that deep, profound joy which comes from the heart and soul and results not in smiles and laughter but a curious kind of solemnity. And yet, tonight, at this moment, he felt sad too, although the deeps of happiness beneath were not stirred.
He was getting married. To his best friend, his lover, his soul-mate, his true partner in every way… He was getting married. It seemed he couldn't think it often enough; it still served to make him feel the same surge of almost incredulous amazement at his own good fortune. He was getting married tomorrow…
Harry smiled slightly at the memory of his bachelor party, which had been just days ago where his best friends and what seemed like every person he had ever met in his life and then some, had come and cheered him on raucously as he proceeded to get thoroughly smashed. And tonight, he and Ron had a quiet evening planned, just the two of them, the best mates, before tomorrow he vowed that another person, their other best friend, would forever be the most important person in his life. Not that she hadn't been already, but something about having it made official in the eyes of the world made it solemn and so they'd quietly decided to spend his last evening as a free man (as Ron put it with a teasing grin) together. But not yet.
He had one last visit to make. And this one pilgrimage he had to make alone.
His gaze moved over the words etched in a graceful script on the tombstones…
James Potter
Lily Evans Potter
A love never forgotten, and in death not divided…
Sirius Black
Mischief -and heroism- managed.
He blinked rapidly to clear his vision from the tears that had welled, as they still tended to do whenever he read the inscription on Sirius' tombstone and remembered the way he'd gone, before his gaze returned to the graves of his parents.
He could see them in his mind, so clearly. His father, smiling, looking so much like an older version of himself, only with hazel eyes and slightly different features… His mother, also smiling, with those same eyes which he saw in the mirror every day… And began speaking aloud, almost unconsciously, hardly realizing what he was doing but knowing he needed to do this.
"Hello, Mum, Dad… And Sirius. It's me. I wanted to tell you- I'm getting married tomorrow. I'm marrying Hermione Granger. You know, Sirius. I-" his voice cracked slightly on the words, no matter that he'd said them so many times before but somehow this time seemed more sincere, more significant, than any other time. "I love her. I love her so much, Mum and Dad. She's been with me through everything really. She makes me strong, she makes me brave, she makes me good. She makes me every good thing I am and every good thing I ever will be. I- I wish I could tell you just what she's like, wish that you could meet her. Mum, you'd like her; Remus once said that in a lot of ways, Hermione reminds him of you. I-" His voice faltered and he added the rest of the sentence so softly it was almost just for his ears, "I'm glad to know that; it makes it easier to know something of what you were like, Mum."
There was another pause, as Harry blinked away the tears that had welled up again at this admission, one he'd never before made, even in his own thoughts. "Mum and Dad, I wish you could have known Hermione so you could see what she is to me." Again, he paused, swallowing down the lump of emotion that seemed to have lodged in his throat. He hadn't meant for this to become so emotional and part of him was embarrassed at it, but somehow, it felt necessary for him to do this, to express somehow part of what he'd missed all his life. "I'd like to have talked to you, Dad, about how it feels to love someone the way I love Hermione. It's- it's so consuming sometimes- I look at her and all I feel for her just seems to well up inside until I think I'll burst if I don't kiss her and tell her just how precious she is and how much it means to me that she loves me for some reason."
His voice had gotten softer during this confession as he bared his heart in a way he'd never done to anyone but wanted to, odd and illogical as it seemed, tell his father. He was sure that his father had felt the same for his mother. It was clear from what he knew of how his father had sacrificed his life for her sake as well as for Harry's; it was clear from what Remus had told him over the years of his parents and their relationship. And it was clearest, perhaps, in the pictures which Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year. He hadn't truly noticed before, hadn't known enough to recognize the emotion for what it was, but he did now, because of Hermione. He recognized the look in James' eyes as he smiled at Lily in their wedding pictures; he recognized the emotion, the possessiveness, the protectiveness, in the way James had his arm around Lily's shoulders, in the way he held Lily's hand. He recognized it because he felt it too. It was much like what he himself felt when he looked at Hermione, the same desire to have and to hold, to quote the Muggle wedding vows, to protect from anything that might harm her…
And because of this knowledge of this shared emotion, he felt a closer bond to his father than he had in a long time-as close to his father as he'd felt that one horrible, wonderful, magical night at the end of third year, when he'd thought he'd seen his father conjure the Patronus and then to realize that the Patronus stag was his, the part inside him which he invoked for protection…
Harry let out his breath in a long, slow sigh, feeling the emotion drain away leaving him feeling cleansed. He had talked to his parents, told them about Hermione… And somehow, somewhere, he was sure his parents could hear him… There was just one more thing to say, and he said it so softly it was barely a whisper. "I wish you could be here tomorrow, Mum and Dad. I wish you could be here to watch me marry Hermione and to give me your blessing. I wish you could be here…"
There; it was finished, the last thing he had needed to do before he married…
He had turned and was walking slowly away when he felt it.
A warm breeze that passed over and around him, bringing with it a scent he knew, the scent of lilies, and the faintest suggestion of a flutter of wings, like that of a Snitch, hovering by his ear…
It lasted only a moment, was gone almost as soon as he was conscious of it but he knew he hadn't imagined it. And he knew what it meant.
His parents had given him and Hermione their blessing.
~*~
There were many guests, many smiles and many happy hearts the next day as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger exchanged their vows. This was, they all knew, a day long in coming and the beginning of well-deserved happiness.
And everyone saw the smiles on the faces of the other guests, knowing they shared the same sense that this, more than anything else, was right.
But there were three more smiles which no one saw, three more happy hearts watching the ceremony. Somewhere, above the earth, two men and a woman were standing, looking down and watching the boy, the young man, whom they all loved and had given their lives for.
They exchanged smiles, while one of the men, with hazel eyes behind his glasses, bent and kissed the woman's cheek, as the other man chuckled.
They watched and knew that now, their task was truly over and they could rest in peace now that Harry was happy and had a friend, a partner, a wife, who loved him and would save him from anything she needed to save him from, including his own self at times.
Their task was over and with one last smile, one last unseen blessing, they turned away to bide their time.