Someday

padfoot_puppyeyes

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 23/09/2005
Last Updated: 23/09/2005
Status: completed

Harry Potter had always lived for somedays. He'd always said that someday he'd find love. Someday he'd defeat Voldemort. Someday he'd tell her how he really felt. But will someday ever come? WARNING- MAJOR FLUFF AHEAD! ONE SHOT!

Chapters

1. Someday

1. Someday

AN- This is just a small one-shot I wrote when I was bored. It's so fluffy it's giving me a toothache, but I think it's worth reading. And if it's worth reading…isn't it worth a review?

Disclaimer- I don't own it. But maybe, someday, I will. Hey, stop laughing! Jeeze, can't a girl dream anymore?

Harry had always been living for somedays.

When he had been little, it had been “Someday someone's going to take me out of here forever, and care for me and love me like the Dursley's never have.” Well, someone had taken him out of the cupboard under the stairs and into another world, and the wizarding world did love him.

Of course, there were several times Harry wished he could take back his wish. When the world had turned on him because of something one person had said, or when everyone had turned to him to do something he couldn't, Harry had wished he could crawl into his cupboard again. It might have been small, but at least it was safe. The Dursley's might not have loved him, but at least they didn't expect very much from him. Cleaning was easy, even as a five year old, compared to trying to take a dark lord on at the age of seventeen.

Then, it had become “Someday, I'll tell her how I really feel. We won't have to deal with curses, Death Eaters, or Voldemort. We'll just get married, have children, grow old together, and die together.”

But waiting until `someday' to tell Hermione how he felt wasn't as easy as he had once thought it would be. There were moments Harry was afraid someday would never come. Moments he, Hermione, or both of them had come so close to death.

The worst had been on Halloween of what was supposed to be Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts. He, Ron, and Hermione had just dived headlong into a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley, and the fighting was just beginning to slow down a little. Both sides had been sending people with injuries away and bringing new witches and wizards into the fight, both after a few hours nearly all of the buildings in Diagon Alley were little more that scattered remains. There were bodies wearing both civilian clothing, Auror robes and Death Eater masks, all lying next to each other.

Hermione had been helping Harry with a particularly nasty gash that ran from the shoulder to his elbow when she had just suddenly frozen. Blood began to run from her nose, and Harry, panicked, wasn't sure what to do to help.

All of her muscles had been cramping, and her face had been twisted in pain. The doctors had finally managed to heal her, but it would take weeks of physical therapy for her to be able to run again.

Shed' still been out cold when Harry had poured his heart out to her. He'd told her how he felt about her, and how he had to wait until the war was over to act on his emotions.

“…and I have to wait until someday, when in know it's safe and both of us can really think about it and enjoy it. I want to be able to live for you, and I can't if Voldemort's constantly haunting me.”

He'd spilled his soul to the sleeping girl in front of him, and when she'd opened her hazy eyes he'd panicked for a moment. “Hermione! How…how're you feeling?”

Hermione shot him an annoyed look as she tried to sit up a little. “Like I've been run over by several dragons. How do you think?” When she stiffened in pain as her spine made a loud popping noise she finally decided that maybe sitting still was a better idea.

“How long have you been awake?” Had she heard everything? Would this change how she acted around him? What if she didn't feel that way about him? What if she did, but she wouldn't wait until `someday'. He knew he couldn't keep her away from the fight, but he really didn't want her in the middle of it.

“Only a few seconds. You saw me wake up…why?” Hermione asked, her face now concerned.

“No reason.”

She shook her head at how he was acting and then proceeded to ask him for every detail he could remember about the battle, the outcome of the battle, and what had happened to her. She'd been amused to find out that he didn't really know much about what had happened after the battle; he'd been in her hospital room for two days, waiting for her to wake up and leaving her side only occasionally, for food and sleep.

There were other times when it seemed like someday was possible, it would just never come in his lifetime. The war seemed to drag on forever, with both sides winning and losing equally.

He'd been thinking about this, and worrying about it, when Hermione had found him and sat down on the hotel bed next to him, pushing his suitcase aside.

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked, taking the rolled up paper from him. He took a deep breath and released his white-knuckled grip on the Daily Profit, handing the paper to Hermione so that she could see the headlines.

YOU-KNOW-WHO ATTACKS ALL OF LONDON

Hermione sighed sadly and watched as the wizarding picture showed a torn British flag in front of a glowing green Dark Mark. “We've lost ground again. I didn't know he could pull off such a large attack.” Harry said, burying his head in his hands. Sure, they'd defended Hogsmeade two nights ago, but Voldemort had done just as much damage, if not more, during his attack on London. And they hadn't been there in time to stop it.

“He's getting stronger, but so are we.” Hermione said firmly, trying to encourage her best friend. Harry just shook his head.

“Yeah, but if it keeps up like this, then this whole thing'll never end. I mean, the prophecy said that Voldemort and I are equals…and right now, it just seems like the best I can do is keep up.”

Hermione gently rested a hand on his shoulder and began to massage, trying to work out the knots all of the stress was forming in Harry's back and neck. “Yes, but the prophecy also said you have a power he doesn't, and you do. You don't just grow stronger; you grow smarter. It's just the beginning, Harry. Things will get better, but you have to believe that you can make things better or nothing's ever going to change.”

As Hermione lectured Harry about his lack of confidence, Harry thought about that mysterious power he had that Voldemort didn't. Love. Hermione was right. He had something Voldemort would never be able to have, and it gave him the advantage.

There were times when Harry wasn't sure he could wait until someday came. It was like waiting to give someone you truly care about a gift you know they'll love; he wasn't sure if Hermione would love what he had to give, but he couldn't wait to give it to her all the same.

They had been at the Weasley's for Christmas that year, and the trio had just come in from the bitter cold outside, where they'd been strengthening the wards surrounding the Burrow. Ron had quickly thrown of his coat, kicked off his boots, and run into the kitchen, moaning about how hungry he was and how good the ham that was slowly roasting smelled. Hermione and Harry had taken their time to warm up, and laughing over their friend's antics and about to follow him into the kitchen when both had been stopped right under the doorway.

Hermione and Harry both slowly looked up at the ceiling to find a small bushel of mistletoe charmed to the doorframe. It was a one of Fred and George's projects- they had been bragging to him about it earlier- and was hexed to freeze the two people under the mistletoe in place until they kissed.

Harry felt his face heating up, and the only relief to his embarrassment was that Hermione looked as embarrassed as he felt. They both knew what they had to do, but neither of them appeared to want to make the first move.

“The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can eat.” Hermione offered timidly. “Dinner does smell amazing.”

“And soon everyone's going to wonder where we are.” Harry pointed out. It was true. The Weasleys were a curious family, and pretty soon one of them was bound to start looking for Harry and Hermione. If they were found in this sort of situation, Harry was sure neither of them would ever hear the end of it.

“Well, then, it's best to just get it done with, isn't it?” Hermione said, slowly leaning towards him.

And Harry wanted so badly right then to kiss her like he'd been wanting to and dreaming about for several months. Her eyelashes had snowflakes melting in them, and her face was flushed from the cold, and her hair was bushier than ever from her winter hat. She was beautiful, and Harry knew right then that he loved her, and always would.

Which is exactly why he quickly leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. The mistletoe released them, like it was supposed to, and Hermione stumbled until Harry steadied her by the elbow.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. Instantly her hurt expression shifted into one of amusement, and Harry wondered if he'd imagined it.

“I won't be if I don't eat pretty soon. Come on, Ron's probably looking for us right now as it is.” She replied, smiling. Harry, grinning, followed her, saying,

“Ron, put off dinner to look for us? Never!”

Harry didn't hear, until years later, about how Ginny and Ron had seen the entire thing. The Weasleys were, after all, a nosey bunch. Ron looked at Ginny, who smiled sadly back at him. Both of them were losing their crushes, but if it was what Hermione and Harry wanted, and needed, then they weren't about to interfere. Ron had been checking Luna out anyway, and Ginny had been spending much more time around Draco Malfoy, trying to help him come to terms with his mother's recent death.

But as long as Harry had Hermione, he knew in his heart that eventually someday would come. It was like believing in magic. It didn't matter how many times the Dursley's had insisted that it wasn't real, because a part of him had always known that it was.

And then, one foggy, muggy day in May, someday had come. Harry had finished Voldemort, just like he was supposed to, and was lying in the hospital wing unconscious. Hermione hadn't left his side for the week he'd been in a coma, and she was still sitting faithfully beside him, talking to him, but his condition seemed to be getting worse. It was like his body was tired of fighting the magical illness his various wounds and curses had caused, and because he was getting so tired of fighting, he was losing the will to live.

When Harry heard Hermione's voice, even if he couldn't make out what she was saying, he knew it was time to go back to the world he had just risked his life to save. It might mean more pain and pressure, but someday he wouldn't have to deal with the press, and the physical injuries he'd been put through.

It wasn't until he heard a certain word that caught his attention that he really began to listen to what she was saying.

“I've been waiting for it to happen as long as you have, Harry, but you're finally done. You don't have to fight him any more; you don't have to worry about the war anymore. It's all done with, and that was yesterday in your life. You have to wake up, though. Please…I know you wanted to make sure that it was over before you did anything, but it's done now…”

She drifted off when he lightly tightened his lax grip of her hand, and opened his eyes for a moment before groaning about the lights. Then, Madam Pomfrey had come bustling in, and had pushed Hermione to the side to monitor her patient's condition.

For the next several days, Harry, Ron and Hermione met with ministry officials, reporters, and attended the trials of various Death Eaters. In their final interview, a reporter asked,

“And Mr. Potter, what do you plan on doing in the next year?”

“The next year?” Harry asked, bemused. “I haven't really thought that far ahead. I guess a vacation would be nice, but a year long might be pushing it.” Hermione smiled. He'd been a lot more relaxed and laid-back since Voldemort's defeat.

“Do you ever plan on returning to Hogwarts for your NEWTs? Or acquiring a job?” The eager reporter asked, slightly incredulous. How could Harry Potter not have a job lined up, or a plan for the future.

Harry just shrugged, while Ron and Hermione smothered laughter at the reporter's expression. “I did what I was born to do. Voldemort's dead- oh, don't jump at his name, he can't come back to haunt you- and I have a life to live. There's so much I hadn't been able to do in my life because Voldemort was shadowing my every move, that I guess now I just want to relax. Someday maybe I'll find a job or go back to school, but for now…there's a few things I want to get done first.”

He sent a meaningful look towards Hermione, one that Ron caught. When the reporter had left and Ron had come up with some unlikely excuse to escape, Harry and Hermione sat alone in the Great Hall together. Eventually, Harry asked her, “You want to take a walk? It could be the last time we're here in a while.”

Hermione smiled shyly, knowing that there would be more than walking going on by the end of the night. “Sure.”

They walked around the grounds in silence for a while, reminiscing, until Hermione finally broke the quiet to say, embarrassed, “I suppose you heard me.”

“Heard you?” Harry asked, amused.

“Yes. Back in the hospital wing, when you woke up.” She answered, her face bright red. Harry smiled gently at her as they walked towards the lake.

“You know, those words sounded a little familiar. I'm guessing I'm not the only one who heard a little more than they should while they were supposed to be unconscious in the hospital.” Hermione had obviously heard what he had been saying to her after he had been afraid that he was going to lose her. “And I meant it. Everything I said. I really do want to marry you, and have a family with you, and to grow old with you.”

Hermione turned to face him, and met his gaze squarely. “Well, I'd like to do all of those things someday, but a kiss will do for now.”

Well…she'd been so patient, how could he really turn her down?

Harry Potter had always lived for somedays, and now he realized that he always would. He'd live for the day he could marry the love of his life, he'd live for the day he could hold his child in his arms.

But these were all good somedays. They gave him hope, and made life worth living.

Yes, Harry Potter was living for somedays. But somedays made everyday worth it.

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