Disclaimer: Characters and things you recognize belong to JK Rowling. I don't own them at all. Thank God.
A/N: For Josiah, who's my inspiration for a lot of things, and the PS/SS-OotP!Harry to my PS/SS-OotP!Hermione. Potter-speak for you, hon :)
When I Grow Up…
It was raining mercilessly on a small village in Scotland. A small house on the edge of the village looked just about ready to collapse from the force of the rain, yet mysteriously, it stood strong and sturdy as though an invisible force was holding it up. The little light yellow house looked lovely even in the rain, with its white door and yellow curtains, and the small garden surrounding it. It even had a round window on second, and topmost, floor.
Inside the round window was a very small, dusty old room, with dusty sheets covering most of what was in there. The room was so small, in fact, that it did not allow room to stand up straight at all. But the peacefulness of the dust-covered room was disturbed when the square door on the floor was opened by a silhouetted person.
The person coughed, and proceeded to climb up to the attic. After switching the light on, the woman coughed again. She looked around for a short moment, then sighed.
"Ten years," she breathed. "Has it been that long?"
She then began to take the sheets off of the objects of the room, and uncovered several labeled boxes, a small cupboard which was shut tight with nails, stacks of books, and a large trunk with what looked like a crest of an eagle, a lion, a badger, and a snake. She coughed again.
Hours later, the woman was sitting on the now-clean floor, and rummaging through one the boxes. She had already gone through most of them, and only had two boxes left labeled "CLOTHES", as well as the trunk and the cupboard. When she was finished with the boxes, she stood up and headed for the cupboard.
The woman had forgotten what she had put in the cupboard, and was a little cautious. She didn't know what kind of memories it held, be it happy or sad. She knew rummaging through the trunk would be emotional, and she saved it for last because of this.
She took a long, thin piece of wood out of her pocket and pointed it at the small cupboard, muttering a couple of words to it. The cupboard shook, and immediately got rid of the nails keeping the cupboard sealed tight. The woman smiled to herself.
First drawer, she thought.
She opened the drawer on top, and it contained some small stuffed animals, and a quite a few other toys. A doll at the corner had "HeMIoNe" written on its right foot.
"My toys," she smiled. She looked around, and saw an empty box next to the trunk. Upon waving her long piece of wood, the empty box quickly turned into a brand new white cupboard.
After transferring her worn-out toys into their new home, Hermione proceeded onto the next drawer.
Second drawer now, she thought, so far so good.
The second drawer had all her Primary School things. From three files filled with her achievements, to a small box filled with pictures. She placed it all into the white cupboard, just like the items in the first drawer. The old one looked about ready to give, anyway.
The last drawer was the biggest of the three, and Hermione discovered why.
"Family things," she said, relieved that it wasn't Secondary School things yet. That's what the trunk was for after all.
She went through everything one by one. They were mostly things her parents let her take as soon as she moved out of the house, and the rest were things she had collected through the years. Everything was going fine until she found a rectangular wooden box, a little bigger than an ordinary shoebox, at the very bottom of the drawer. She opened it, and saw a white piece of clothing. At first, she couldn't remember what it was, and it wasn't after she took the piece of clothing out that she began to cry silently.
It was so long ago, and she couldn't believe she could still remember it. She had been 14 that year, almost 15, and had just bought her Kneazle, Crookshanks, the summer before.
Her parents had left for work, and she was looking through the bookshelf in her parents' room , when she saw the rectangular wooden box. She took it and put in on the bed. Crookshanks jumped onto the bed and purred.
Hermione opened the box, and revealed her mother's wedding dress. She smiled and sighed almost giddily. Hermione was never one to be giddy.
She took the dress out and admired it. It was a beautiful silk gown, nothing too fancy. It was simple, and its elegancy came from its simplicity. She held the dress in front of her, and looked at the mirror. Shaking her head and laughing, she turned to Crookshanks.
"What do you think?" she asked the cat. He meowed. "I thought this was "meow", too!"
She laughed again.
"You know, Crookshanks, I have a secret," whispered Hermione mockingly. "But you can't tell anyone, OK?"
The cat just looked at her.
"My secret is.. someday, I want to be Mrs Harry James Potter."
She quickly clasped a hand to her mouth as though frightened someone overheard her. Looking around, she sighed in relief and smiled.
"And I would want to wear this on our wedding day…"
It was a painful memory to remember, but it wasn't why she cried. Hermione recalled how she wanted to tell Harry she loved him more than a friend, but never could. She can't even recall how it started, or why, she just knew it had always been there. With his soulful eyes, and his kind smile…
Always the girl best friend, she thought painfully. Always there for him, but never with him. Not like Ginny.
She remembered how it was then.
Since Harry had started dating Ginny in his 6th year at Hogwarts, Hermione became less needed, and felt less wanted. She stayed in the sidelines, dreading what might happen to Harry, worrying for him more than ever, and hoping still that he might love her back.
She remembered how odd Harry was acting from his 6th year up until the last month of their 7th. She was thoroughly surprised, and secretly pleased, however, when he told her that Ginny and him had broken up. She was surprised because Harry never told her anything about Ginny. It was awkward, for some reason, to talk about her.
About a week or so after his and Ginny's breakup, Harry went up to Hermione. She remembered so vividly how he just pulled her into a deep hug, and thanked her for everything. She remembered being speechless, but the tears he never saw, as she quickly wiped them away, spoke for themselves: It was nothing.
Hermione sobbed more as she remembered what happened a week after that; the real reason she was crying.
"Hermione?"came Harry's shaking voice in the darkness. She was in her Head Girl bedroom, and at first couldn't understand why she was hearing Harry's voice.
"Mmm?" she replied sleepily from under the covers.
"Please wake up…" he said. "This is important…"
The urgency in his voice did it.
"What's wrong?" she said, very much awake. She saw the silhouette of his body against the moonlight.
He fell silent for a moment, then,
"I love you, Hermione."
".. what?" Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Surely, she was dreaming.
"I came here to tell you that in person," he said.
"... what? … How?"
He came closer to her, and finally saw his face. His very set face. She glanced at his position, and only then realized he was kneeling from the side of her bed. He must've felt tired, because he sat down on the floor instead, and looked out the window.
"I always have, I think... but it wasn't until the last couple of week that I really began to realize," he began.
"Yes,"Hermione thought,"keep talking. Talking is good." She was still trying to take all this in. It's one thing to dream about things like this, but completely another to have them come true.
"Ginny's great. I know she loves me. But when I closed my eyes and thought about who I'd miss most if Voldemort finishes me off…" Hermione clutched her sheets tightly at this, "it was never her, but you."
She didn't speak, and he continued.
"And I know there's a great chance we'll never be the same after this, but I just don't know what going to happen now, and I don't want to die without letting you know."
"Please Harry, don't," pleaded Hermione. She couldn't stand him talking like this.
After a few more silent moments had rolled by, Harry got up. Without looking at her, he proceeded to the door.
Her heart was pumping furiously. She was absolutely crazy to even think about what she was thinking of doing, but it felt so right. It felt like the right time.
"Harry, wait," she called to him. He stopped and turned around, as she walked to him.
She put her hand on his cheek and caressed it.
"I love you…"she told him. "I always have.."
Without further words, Harry pressed his lips passionately unto hers, and they shared their first ever kiss. When he pulled back, she saw the same burning thought in his eyes that she had in hers.
Harry and Hermione walked to her bed, and began to slowly slip her nightdress off. She removed his clothes bit by bit, and he laid her gently down, kissing her neck tenderly. His touch felt amazing, and their skins felt wonderful pressed against each other.
"H-Harry," she whispered at once, and they stopped. "I… I haven't… yet…I don't know how…"
She saw him smile.
"Neither have I, Hermione," he whispered back. "This is my first, too, and I'm just as scared. But I love you and I want my first to be with you."
He pulled her into an embrace, and she returned it instantly, not as scared as she was seconds ago.
It was their first night, and Harry's last.
How could she not know he was saying goodbye? How could she not know about his secret plan to go after Voldemort that night? How could she let him do it?
She had woken up, and realized he was not there. She looked for him desperately, finally cottoning on, and told the others.
By the time she, Ron, the Order and everyone had caught up to Harry late that night, he was fighting Voldemort alone, the Deatheaters were surrounding them, watching.
The fierce battle continued in the sidelines, and no one was spared injury.
Then, Harry's voice was heard, and he yelled a spell. There was a huge flash of white light, and everyone stopped battling. When the light started to fade, everyone saw Voldemort falling slowly backwards, almost fighting to stay up and alive. But he was dead.
And so was Harry.
Months later, Hermione moved out of her parents' house, and bought the one she lived in now. She never told anyone about what happened earlier the night Harry died. It was their little secret. But others eventually found out she loved him. Ron told Hermione he had suspected Harry had feelings for her in his funeral, and Ginny was never quite the same to her after that, but she didn't care. As far as Hermione was concerned, Harry was always hers, and she his.
Today was the first time she had touched the attic since she moved in the house. Ron and Luna had both been worried about her, and this was her chance to prove she was okay now.
But knowing she'll never get to use the dress she was holding now in a wedding that was hers and Harry just tore her apart. And maybe she wasn't okay yet. Maybe it's still too painful to remember.
Hermione slowly put the dress back inside the wooden box, and put it in its new home, the last drawer of the white cupboard. Slowly still, she got up and headed for the door on the floor. She looked at the trunk in the corner and decided she will have to open it another day. She switched the lights off and went down, wiping her eyes still.
It was still raining outside, and when lightning lit the sky, for a fracture of a second, it passed through the round window, and flashed some light onto the Hogwarts trunk. There was something written on its front in a big, bold and untidy scrawl:
HARRY POTTER.
++ end++
A/N: Wow, that was certainly weird to write. I have never been one to write something more than PG-13, and I hope it wasn't too graphic. Oh, who am I kidding, it was child's play :)
I hope you guys enjoyed reading, it's been a while since my last fic, so please be nice >.<
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