True Happiness

Title: True Happiness
Pairing: The usual
Category: Drama/Romance

Spoilers: The books in general, but no specific giveaways.
Rating: PG
Summary: Hermione gets cold feet on her wedding day. Like, seriously cold. Frozen over. Walking around with blocks of ice for shoes cold.
Disclaimer: Not mine, plain and simple.

~

He walked into the room and his heart stopped beating.

She was beautiful.

It was her wedding day to another man…and she was so, so beautiful in that white dress, pooled all around her.

And then she looked up at him with two large, tearful brown eyes, choking back a sob. He went to her, like he always had, and held her close until she calmed herself enough to speak.

“Oh, Harry, I can’t…please, please don’t ask me to do this, I can’t breathe when I think about it…”

This was all so surreal…this beautiful woman crying in his arms while her betrothed, his best friend, stood waiting to take her away from him forever….

“If I go through with this, we’ll never have our chance, Harry, and I just realized I really want us to. I can’t…I can’t marry him.”

Harry rested his forehead against hers, feeling not for the first time that he’d do anything for this woman, whatever she asked of him…he would steal, cheat, lie, kill…whatever was necessary to make her happy.

“Hermione…just tell me one thing. Are you sure it’s me you want? Absolutely sure? If you would be happy with me – really and truly happy – then I’ll walk out of here with you, consequences be damned. But I need to know.”

She clutched the lapels of his tuxedo as she kissed him, desperately and demandingly – but this was not like the kiss they’d shared last night. This was not goodbye…not goodbye at all.

“Yes, Harry,” she said breathlessly. “You’re all I want.”

Despite his fear and apprehension, despite his guilt at what he was about to do to Ron, he knew he’d never been any more alive, never more eager to take the next step forward, and the next, and the one after that.

“All right,” Harry said when he found his voice again. “How do we tell him?”

Hermione took a bracing breath. “I’ll tell him. This is my burden – I shouldn’t have kept this going as long as I did. But…would you do something for me?”

“Of course,” Harry said, holding tight to her still.

“Will you go to my apartment and pack up my things, quickly? I…I don’t want to have to go back there, after I tell him. He’ll need time and space to cool down.”

Harry kissed her one last time and stood to leave. “I’ll take them to my flat – you can come there when you’re done, if you want. Or I can take them to your parents’, if you’d rather –“

Hermione smiled a watery smile. “No, take them to your place. I…I’ll be home soon.”

No, he couldn’t suppress the flood of warmth that filled his soul when she said the word “home.”

~

He’d already unpacked all her things, placed all her books on the shelves, made room in the dresser and closet for all her clothes, set out her photographs, and tucked away her keepsakes with his. Now he had only to wait for her to return, to place within the apartment the one thing that was still missing.

How long had it been now? Three hours, four? Ron wouldn’t have taken it well at all, he supposed…nor the Weasleys, nor Hermione’s parents who’d been so thrilled to see her settling down. He might have returned, to help her, but he didn’t know whether his presence would help or simply escalate the tension.

Harry waited, and waited, and some time later, he heard the front door gently open and close, followed by soft padding footfalls. He looked up to find her still in the dress, her white shoes in her hands, her hair falling from its bun, her makeup untidy. Nevertheless, she smiled when she met his eyes.

“How did it go?” he asked, rising to greet her. She came into his arms a little too eagerly, nestling there with a sigh.

“I think…I think he was more angry than heartbroken. I hope that’s the case…I mean, I’d rather he was hurt because his friends lied to him than because he lost me. I have to believe that if he really loved me, I wouldn’t have needed anything else.”

Harry kissed her temple. “He’ll be all right, and he’ll be happier in the end if he finds someone who’s truly in love with him.”

“I didn’t think I was going to get out of there alive, between Mrs. Weasley and Ginny,” she sighed, “The former, especially. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Harry said. “She’ll come around when Ron does.”

Hermione nodded as she continued to lean tiredly into him.

“Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “No. No, I’m just tired. I think I’d like to just get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Gently, he steered her to the bedroom – their bedroom, now – and helped her out of her dress…such a waste of a wedding gown, really. Once changed into a long T-shirt, she slid under the covers and he followed after her, eager to hold her, to know she was real, that this was real, and that it was worth it.

He listened to the sound of her breathing growing slow and even as she fell asleep beside him – not for the first time, but certainly the first time when she was his and his alone, and he knew. She was worth everything.

A/N: I just realized that I’d never posted this here on PK, although I wrote it not long after the first chapter and posted it to the fanfict00bs community on livejournal. This chapter is just…further explanation. And a little more w00blety love. So, enjoy.

~

Hermione stood behind the door of the dressing room, trying to brace herself with the conviction that this was right, that she’d made the right choice. Leaving Harry the night before had nearly broken her heart…probably would have crushed it completely, had she not known deep within that not even a marriage could tear them apart, especially not a marriage that was a lie to begin with. A part of her had known even before she returned to her fiancé that this wedding would not happen…could not happen.

They’d frantically made love for what they thought would be the last time…saying their goodbyes in every touch, every kiss, so that she wept even in her ecstasy, fearing that moment when the warmth of his body would leave her. If she’d been in her right mind, she would have made a conscious decision then to call off the wedding…but her own agony had blinded her.

When they’d dressed and they stood together by the door, he’d kissed her tenderly, painfully tenderly, wordlessly accepting the end. She’d left, propelled only by sheer emotion, for rationality could never have torn her away from him.

Hermione sighed, pulling her thoughts back to the present. The heartache was over, and even though she was about to break the heart of one of her two dearest friends in the world, she was insuppressibly happy. No more lying, no more hiding, no more longing for something that would never be – it was now, and no matter what happened with Ron, the truth was…Harry was worth it. He’d always been worth it.

~

He’d seemed calm at first when they’d announced to the guests that the wedding would not be taking place. He’d seemed calm enough when he was ushering his frantic mother out. Once they were alone, however, the tide burst forth.

“Why? Hermione, we’ve been planning this for months…why now? What’s changed?”

She sighed, looking away. “Ron, I’m so, so sorry…but the thing is, I’ve found the one – the only one for me, and…well, it…it isn’t you. That…that sounds so terrible, but it’s the truth…”

Ron ran a hand through his hair, almost viciously. “Bloody hell, Hermione…you’ve been having an affair, haven’t you? I’d suspected something when you were always working late…but I was so sure that you would never do that to me.”

“I – I’m so sorry, Ron, I never did it to hurt you, I should have broken it off with you when…when it started. But I wasn’t sure about him, and I didn’t want to break your heart for nothing. Please, try to understand –“

“Who is he?” Ron interrupted.

She hesitated, looking around desperately for some kind of help, but there was none.

“Oh, for the love of – I’ll just ask Harry. He was covering for you, wasn’t he? I could tell, he knew something…where the fuck is he, anyway?”

Ron looked desperately around the room as if expecting him to appear in a corner. Then he turned back to Hermione, horror dawning on his face.

“It…it was him, wasn’t it? That’s why he’s not here – because he’s the one who took you from me.”

Hermione fought back frustration, reminding herself that she had no right to be angry after what they’d done, no right at all. “Ron, he only left because I asked him to…he would have faced this. And he never took anything, Ron…I was just as much a part of it. Please, if you’re going to blame someone, blame me…not him. He would never have come between us, if I hadn’t…if I hadn’t made him.”

Ron paced before her before facing her again. “Why him, Hermione? Of all the people…why?”

Hermione searched for the words that would get her message across, that would make him see that their relationship had been wrong all along…that she and Harry were right, so very, very right.

“It’s…it’s the way he looks at me when he thinks I won’t notice. He looks at me like I’m beautiful, and valuable, and…and precious. And you never looked at me that way…I could have been any other woman to you.”

Ron sighed. “But I did – I do love you.”

Hermione brushed away a tear that trickled down her cheek. “I know, and I still love you, too. But…that kind of love isn’t enough. Don’t you see? That kind of love falls apart so easily…it’s not made to last.”

Ron leaned back against a pew, looking a little lost. “I’d always thought it was supposed to be you and me together, in the end. If…if not you, then who on earth am I supposed to be with?”

“Well, I heard Luna Lovegood was devastated when we got engaged,” Hermione said, trying to lighten the mood and knowing it was impossible. “I think…I think someone like her would be better for you, Ron. We’re too much alike, you know. We’re both so stubborn…all we ever did well together was fight.”

“I didn’t mind the fighting,” Ron said quietly. “You were always so fun to provoke.”

“And you never realized that I hated it, did you?” she sighed. “It made me so tired, Ron. I needed peace…I needed someone to understand me.”

Ron shook his head, more to himself than to her. “I suppose Harry was always better at that, wasn’t he?”

Hermione didn’t answer – she didn’t need to – and the silence lapsed between them until finally Ron pushed himself up from his leaning position and faced the door.

“I suppose it’s time to explain this to them,” he said, although it was clearly the last thing he wanted to do. Hermione couldn’t help agreeing, but she had to face them, if not for her sake, then for Ron’s…and for Harry’s, since he was a Weasley in all but name.

Together they walked out, her still wearing the wedding dress that would never have the chance to serve its purpose.

~

When she woke up the next morning, it was to an entirely new experience…a new life. She’d never had the opportunity to wake up in Harry’s arms before, and it was such a gentle return to consciousness that she thought perhaps she was still sleeping…but, no. The warmth surrounding her was real, his body solid and tangible, his even breathing filling the quiet room.

Hermione turned onto her other side within the circle of his arms, now facing him, and began to kiss him awake. When he began to kiss back, when he began to remove her clothing, when his hands and lips touched her skin, it was like the first time all over again…except now it was only them, untainted by guilt.

They could belong wholly to one another now, and knowing that, Hermione felt she was finally free, for the first time in her life.