Pictures

A/N: I know fics along these lines have been written before, but I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head. There’ll be a couple of chapters after this. Hope you like it.

Hermione Granger sat on the floor of her and Harry’s new home. They had been living on opposite sides of London since they had left Hogwarts, and decided two months ago (after four months of dating, and one month of engagement) that they should share a flat.

Today was ‘Moving In Day’, and the couple had spent the last few hours attempting to sort through the surprisingly large amount of boxes. She was temporarily distracted, however, by a crash and loud cursing from the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me you broke something already,” Hermione called out in Harry’s general direction.

“No,” he called back, “I just stubbed my toe on a box!”

“And. . .”

“Well, I accidentally backed into stack of pans. . .”

Hermione sighed with an amused smile on her face, and turned back to her work.

Blankets, Books, Utensils, Books, Quidditch pads, Books. . .hold on, what’s this?

“Harry?”

Instead of replying this time, her fiancé came out to the living room, a dish towel draped over his shoulder, and walked over to where she held a small green box in her hands.

“What’s in this one?” she said, nodding down at the box, “I don’t remember packing it.”

He smiled and flopped down to sit next to her.

“They’re my pictures,” he said, taking the box out of her hands. He opened it on his lap, and Hermione leaned over to look as he flipped through the photos.

The first one showed both of them dancing at Charlie Weasley’s wedding last year. . .

“Why did you drag me out here, Hermione?” Harry whinged as they spun around the dance floor, past hordes of celebrating Weasleys, “You know I can’t dance!”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Hermione assured him, before he stepped on his own foot. “Well,” she said, barely holding back laughter, “All you need is practice.” She gave up the battle then, and started laughing out loud, pressing her face into his shoulder to muffle the sound. She looked up after she quieted to find her best friend staring at her, an odd look on his face.

“What?” she asked, a smile still on her face. Harry just looked down at her for a moment.

“It’s just. . .you look nice tonight Hermione. I mean. . .well better than nice really, I just - ” He was interrupted when Hermione pressed her lips to his cheek.

“You’re adorable, Harry.”

“And I still can’t dance,” Harry said as he moved that picture aside. Hermione’s only response was to rest her head on his shoulder. They both laughed when they looked at the next picture.

“Come on Crookshanks, come on. . .” Hermione cooed to her pet cat, who was currently lying on a branch of a tree, quite happy with himself.

“Hermione, why don’t you just use Wingardium Leviosa on the thing,” drawled Ron, who was sitting under the shade of said tree with Harry. It was one week before they left Hogwarts for good, and the trio was taking advantage of the spectacular June weather.

“I told you already Ron, he’s part magical, the spell won’t work on him!” She looked down at the two boys.

“Why don’t you two lift me up there?” she asked. Ron looked at her incredulously.

“Are you kidding?” he said, “I don’t want a burnia!”

“It’s a hernia, Ron,” said Harry as he rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, “And I doubt Hermione weighs that much.” Ron sighed and got to his feet too.

“Stupid bloody cat,” he muttered as both he and Harry interlocked their hands so Hermione could stand on them. She placed her left foot in Ron’s hands, and her right in Harry’s. They lifted her easily, and she reached her hands out for her pet.

“Come on Crookshanks, come over here. . .” But that cat didn’t move, instead choosing to blink it’s eyes lazily at the interruption.

“Can you hurry up a bit Hermione?” she heard Harry ask, sounding slightly strained. Ron snickered.

“Belt up, both of you,” she snapped, “I’ve almost got him - ”

“Hey, Hermione,” came Ron’s voice, “You know those platters at breakfast. . .everybody’s supposed to have some of those.” She kneed him in the head then, causing Harry to snicker. Just as she was contemplating getting down, Crookshanks stood up and started to walk slowly to her.

“That’s it,” she said cajolingly as she reached forward.

“Not too far Hermione!” Ron shouted, before she started swaying back and forth. A moment later she fell backwards, her fall broken by both of her best friends. Above them, Crookshanks jumped from the branch, landing safely on the ground and slinking away.

“Well that was bloody marvellous,” muttered Harry. Hermione ignored him and turned over, pushing up from the ground.

FLASH!

“Wow, Hermione, I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” came an amused voice, “And with your two best friends, no less!”

Ginny Weasley stood a few yards away from them, holding a very familiar camera.

“Colin left his camera in the common room, thought I’d go give it to him,” she said, a grin on her face. “Imagine the reaction he’ll have when he sees what he missed!”

“Gin. . .” Ron said, a warning in his voice, as both he and Harry stood. Ginny just winked at him and took off, her brother in hot pursuit.

“Thank Merlin Ron got that camera back,” said Hermione with a grin. “Who knows what kind of damage she could have done with that picture.”

“Too true,” Harry said as he went to the next picture. It was Hermione by herself, sitting cross-legged on a bench in Hogsmeade. Bags of shopping surrounded her as she looked at her watch and huffed impatiently.

“Where’d you get this from?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Harry and Ron hurried down Hogsmeade’s main street, their pockets full of sweets.

“So how long do you think Hermione’s been waiting?” Ron asked, wincing, “20 minutes?”

“At least,” Harry said as he finally saw her waiting on a bench for them. Across the street he also saw Colin Creevey, looking as usual, as if a camera had been surgically attached to his face. He was snapping pictures of everyone who walked down the street, and Harry saw as he paused and took a picture of Hermione, before moving onto his next victim.

“So, you borrowed that picture, hmm?” asked Hermione. Harry just nodded and blushed as he moved on.

.

The next picture seemed normal enough - Ron and Harry smiling for the camera at Ron's 20^th birthday party. They were standing next to the crowded bar of Ron's favourite pub, their arms around each others shoulders.

“Well,” said Hermione, “That certainly brings back memories. . .”

“Did you get it?” asked Ron as Ginny moved the camera down. At her nod, he slapped Harry on the back and turned around, ordering another drink from the bar.

“How'd you end up with that camera?” Harry asked, stepping forward.

Ginny shrugged. “Fred was trying to take a picture with some bloke's girlfriend, so I took it for safekeeping. Didn't want him getting knocked out on his little brother's birthday.” Harry laughed. “Hey - where'd Ron go?” Ginny asked, looking over his shoulder. Harry turned to see the stool Ron had just taken a seat on, empty.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Probably went to the loo.” Ginny nodded and looked out at the patrons of the pub.

“Oi, George!” she yelled as she caught sight of one of her brothers, “You throw darts at the board, you prat!” She stomped off then, leaving Harry by himself. Deciding not to go see who George had injured, he took Ron's vacated seat at the bar.

“What'll it be?” grunted the bartender with barely a glance in Harry's direction.

“Firewhisky,” Harry said, and a few moments later his fourth firewhisky of the night was slammed in front of him. He was taking a long swig when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone take a seat next to him.

“Haven't seen you all night, Hermione,” Harry said after he put his drink down. “What've you been up to?” She waved off the bartender before answering.

“Nothing,” she said with a sigh, “I don't feel like drinking until I spew, like the rest of this group - and I hate crowds like this. Thank Merlin I found you, though,” she said. “Thought I'd get stuck with a dart over there,” she jerked her head back to the general direction of the crowd.

“How many people did George get before Ginny stopped him?” Harry asked. But before she had a chance to answer, they were distracted by a flash of blue light that engulfed the entire pub. Soon after, a man slammed into the pub door, sliding down to the floor.

“Oh, no. . .” Harry muttered, as he pulled out his wand and pushed his way through the crowd. Hermione was about to follow him, when she saw Ron slide across the floor towards her. He stood up just as Hermione got to his side.

“What happened?” she asked frantically, as most of the patrons began to get involved in what was quickly turning into a brawl.

“Some cheeky bastard was messing around with Gin,” he growled, looking eager to go back to the fight. “So I hit him `round the face. Then his mates came out of bloody nowhere. . .” Fred struggled out of the mob then, favouring his left leg.

“Where's everyone else?” Hermione asked, standing on her tiptoes to try and get a better look.

“Dunno,” he said, a cut on his lip starting to bleed.

Three loud blasts came from the centre of the crowd, and there was silence. Hermione saw yet another red head move towards them as Ginny emerged from the crowd, and she was followed by Harry, who was practically dragging George by the neck of his robes. Ginny seemed uninjured, whereas Harry and George seemed the worst off of the lot of them.

“We've got to get out of here,” said Ginny, “They're going to wake up eventually. . .” The rest agreed. George, Ginny, and Fred (George leaning heavily on his brother and sister) apparated to the Burrow, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry apparated to Hermione's flat.

As soon as they appeared in her living room, Harry fell onto the couch, and Ron went into the kitchen, searching for a sobering potion. Hermione leaned over Harry, quickly cleaning up the blood on his face with a wave of her wand. He had a cut above his right eye, and his nose was probably broken.

“Hermione!” Ron yelled from the kitchen, “Where's the bloody potion?”

“I don't have any!” she yelled back, causing Harry to wince.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Harry,” she said softly, pushing his fringe back. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He mumbled something unintelligible, the combination of alcohol and injury making him incoherent. She quickly healed the cut and his broken nose, as Ron apparated out of the flat, mumbling about sobering potion.

Most of his pain gone, Harry smiled up at her. “Thanks Hermione,” he said, “You're the best.”

“Yeah, because I'm the only one who'll clean you up,” she said with a small smile as she checked for other injuries.

“Really,” Harry said as she lifted his head slightly to put a pillow underneath. Hermione looked him in the eyes then. Looking back later, she would have no idea what possessed her best friend, but before she knew what was happening, Harry lifted his head a few inches and their lips met in a brief kiss.

“Harry, I - ” but before she could get another word out, he sat up and kissed her again - this time it became deeper. Once they broke apart, Harry grinned at her drunkenly.

“Love you, Hermione,” he said, before he fell back, passed out.

“Really romantic, I was,” Harry said, “Being completely pissed and bloody the first time we kissed.” Hermione snorted.

“And there I was,” said Hermione, “Thinking a combination of whisky and head trauma caused you to finally go `round the bend.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. . .” Harry said sheepishly/

The next picture was very clearly clipped from a newspaper. It showed the grounds of Hogwarts - mere hours after the last battle of the second war. The sky above was overcast, but the two people at the lake's edge didn't seem to care about rain.

Ron was asleep in the Hospital Wing, and Hermione and Harry had decided to go on a walk. They found themselves by the edge of the lake, sitting in a peaceful silence.

Even though she had witnessed the last battle firsthand, Hermione was still somewhat amazed that the war had finally come to an end. Harry, the once again saviour of the wizarding world, sat next to her, staring off into the distance. Following his gaze, she saw a few unidentifiable figures in the distance, clearing debris from the night before.

“Do you know how many people died, Hermione?” asked Harry, his voice scratchy.

“I - ”

“I should know,” he interrupted her. “I need to know how many people died for no reason.” His voice was becoming choked, and he shook his head violently. “I - I need to - I need to know. . .” He put his head in his hands, and Hermione could see his shoulders silently shaking.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, as her own tears started to fall.

“It's going to be alright, Harry,” she said quietly, just before the skies opened over them. “I won't let it hurt you anymore.”

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