Author's Note: Liked the idea of a Marriage Law, so tried to give it my own take. This is not your normal Marriage Law fic. H/Hr and (some) R/Hr.
AN2: For all the people who have asked some variant of the question, "Why can't Harry and Hermione just leave?" Here is my answer…or at least some of it anyway. I'd like to think that they have more moral fiber than to just cut and run. Besides, if they did, the story would have ended like 3 chapters ago, with "So Harry and Hermione went to America and lived happily ever after. The end." And how boring is that?
Oh, and none of these people are mine…
What Might Have Been
Chapter Eight
Harry and Hermione walked into the Great Hall the next morning side by side, but not touching. The tension in the pair was radiating outwardly from them, and was very nearly palpable. Their faces were stone solemn and rigidly set. One would have thought that an execution was going to take place.
They sat, wordlessly, at their customary end of Gryffindor table, and began spooning food onto their plates, more out of habit than anything else. Neither of them was hungry. Neither was happy with the way things had ended the night before, but neither could see another viable option.
Ron arrived a moment later, his face a unique shade of pale green, and began to load up his plate, although he didn't do much more than play with his food. He muttered some variation of "Good morning" at them, but didn't really make any sort of eye contact. Harry waited, tense and pensive. When the first owls began to flap into the room, he actually thought that Ron was going to bolt from the table.
As expected, a regal Ministry owl dropped a scroll onto Hermione's plate. Harry felt his stomach twist into a tight, uncomfortable knot, but managed to notice Malfoy paying particular attention to their end of Gryffindor table.
Hermione broke the seal, wordlessly, and read the scroll, her face pale and set. Harry saw the muscles in her slender neck clench, as she swallowed with difficulty. Ron was trying to give the illusion that he was eating, but was really eying Hermione as she read the scroll.
She finally looked up, and reached inside her robes for a quill. Her face had not changed. Harry watched her sign the scroll, thus indicating her acceptance of the offer, her hand steady, her handwriting as clear and precise as it always was. He felt like part of him was dying slowly, and pressed his lips together tightly, clamping down on any potential wayward displays of emotion…or breakfast, for that matter.
The scroll glowed brightly for a moment, rolled itself back up, and then disappeared with a noise like a thunderclap. Back to the Ministry, Harry assumed.
Ron looked slightly bewildered that everything had happened so fast, but he recovered quickly, reaching into his pocket for a small box. He raised his eyes to meet Hermione's for the first time that morning, and Harry was shocked at the jolt of jealousy that ran through him like electric current.
"Would you do me the honor, Hermione?" Ron asked in a steady tone, proffering the jewelry box.
Hermione lowered her eyes to her plate, and took the box, pushing it open with both thumbs. In it, was a pearl and diamond ring, not large, but ornately and uniquely set. It was quite obviously an antique.
"It was my grandmother's," Ron said, by way of explanation. Hermione nodded, and her eyes seemed to glisten strangely for a moment.
"I accept," she said simply. "Thank you, Ronald." She slid the ring onto her finger, and the setting immediately tilted sideways, as the ring was much too large.
"Here, let me," Ron said, reaching for her hand. They had by now caught the attention of most of Gryffindor table, as well as some of the other houses, who were gazing at the tableau, raptly. He held Hermione's hand gently in one of his, and waved his wand with the other, as he muttered the incantation that would size the ring correctly.
Hermione looked up then, and her gaze locked with Harry's. He had been as transfixed by the scene as anyone, wanting to look away, wanting to scream, to leave, but being unable to…because she was there. He watched her eyes glaze over with unshed tears, but she still did not look away.
She felt the metal wrap around her finger, as she gazed at her erstwhile lover. Her countenance seemed to shout at him, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Harry. I love you.
Harry felt his jaw clench and his throat clog. He looked away quickly, blinking several times and breaking the spell.
"Congratulations," he offered hoarsely, as Ron looked up at him, clearly quite pleased with himself, whether from the success of the proposal or the spell he had just cast, Harry could not tell.
Hermione smiled at him sadly, before she was surrounded by a throng of excited and surprised Gryffindors. "Ohmigod…you two! I had no idea!" he heard, in the ear-piercing squeal of Parvati Patil.
In the commotion, nobody took notice of the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy looked positively murderous.
"Where are you going?" The quiet voice sliced through the early morning air, and startled Harry.
He shrugged, even as he turned, to face the witch that mattered more to him than anyone else in the world.
"What are you doing here?" he said, not answering her question.
"I've spent a month with my parents," she said, almost defensively. "I just missed everybody. I was antsy…I think I was getting on their nerves," she half-laughed. "My mum's the one who suggested I come here. I just got in last night."
There was a long awkward pause.
"So," she proceeded, "how've you been?"
"Fine," Harry answered laconically, offering no elaboration. She shot him a piercing glance that seemed to discern exactly what he was thinking.
"Then why are you sneaking out of the house at dawn?"
"Why are you up?" he fired back.
"Quit answering my questions with questions!" she snapped, impatiently.
"I'm not sneaking anywhere," he mumbled, a little sulkily. "I talked to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about it last night."
"But not Ron or Ginny?" she chided playfully.
"I just need to get away…for a bit. I need to…" he trailed off, searching for words.
"Clear your head?" she supplied. He looked at her in surprise. She grinned, "That's what everyone says when they want to go off for no reason."
He managed to smile back at her, and looked down self-deprecatingly. "It's all starting to get to me, you know?"
She smiled at him gently. She knew. She said so.
"Ever since that day when we got our Orders of Merlin…even when the Weasleys offered you a place, I've been expecting something like this."
"Then you understand?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course I do," she said fervently. "Just one thing…"
"Anything," he promised.
"Promise me you'll come back." She tried to keep the naked longing out of her voice, but it crept around the edges anyway. She hoped he wouldn't notice; she had waited for so long…she could wait a bit longer.
Their gazes met and held for a moment. The promise of something…someday…flickered briefly between them.
"I'll come back." His voice was steady and confident, and his gaze did not waver from hers.
She lifted her chin, her eyes bright, as he reached out one hand to cup her cheek briefly.
"Good," she said, with more assurance than she actually felt, dropping her gaze.
He picked up his knapsack and his Firebolt. She heard the click of the latch, and looked up quickly. He was gone.
Harry was sprawled out gracelessly on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. He could have gone back to his own common room, but lethargy had taken hold. Besides, he didn't really want to run into Hermione.
It had been a long day, and Ron and Hermione had been the names on everyone's lips. As the closest friend to the two, Harry had been plied with questions all day long, and forced to answer them in as cheery a tone as possible. It had been trying work, and he was exhausted.
He felt someone plop down on the sofa next to him.
"You can't stay in here forever, you know?" came the wry voice of the youngest Weasley. Harry's shoulders slumped; he was not in the mood for this.
"Ginny, go `way," he half-whined at her.
"You are doing a pretty good job, actually," she continued, ignoring his outburst completely. She leaned closer to whisper conspiratorily, "I think most people really believe that you're okay with this."
He looked at her warily. "I am okay with this," he said.
"Sure you are," Ginny said, as if to a small child. Harry glared at her, wishing she would leave him alone. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
"There's nothing to tell!" he said, more loudly than he meant to. Several third-years grouped around an intense game of Exploding Snap glanced their way curiously.
"If there's nothing to tell," Ginny said, speaking in a low voice, "then why are you in here instead of in your nice private common room? Hermione's worried about you. She says you haven't spoken to her all day." That caught Harry's attention, and he snapped his gaze to Ginny's face, riveted.
"You've talked to Hermione?"
Ginny rolled her eyes theatrically. "It's not hard. You could too, if you'd just get off your pathetic arse and - "
Harry threw aside any last pretense that he'd been clinging to. It was clear Ginny believed none of it anyway. His voice was deadly serious. "How much do you know?"
TBC
A little plot is slowly starting to form. There's going to be a conspiracy surrounding the Marriage Law, Draco's got more in his motives than just being a prat, and there will be some Ron/Hermione. I still consider the chief `ship of this story to be Harry/Hermione though, and they will end up together…I promise!
Thanks for the reviews. Please leave some more on your way out!
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