More to Love Than Black and White

It was colder than Harry expected it would be on a summer night. With one hand clutching the Invisibility Cloak around him, he used his other to pull his jacket collar closed and hunched his shoulders.

It was the wind, he decided.

The wind was gusting around him, making the trees and grasses whisper menacingly and nearly blowing his bloody cloak off. He wouldn't have minded that so much, except for the fact that he was trying to sneak away and he didn't need the moon, which kept shining down through the steady stream of clouds, to throw any light on him when his cloak blew back, which could reveal him to his enemies.

And his friends.

At that thought he stopped and looked back at the way he had come; he could just barely make out a glimmer of light coming from the Burrow in the not too far distance. He felt more than a twinge of regret sneaking out like this, but he had to do this alone. Enough people had died for him.

He found a stump and sat down for a minute to gather his wits, and think over the day's events. It had been quite a day after all; it was Bill and Fleur's wedding day.

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The whole day had been a nonstop race, with people running around the house, trying to get things set up, wizards Apparating out of nowhere, and just general mayhem. That could almost be considered a normal day at the Weasley's if not for the fact that that there was a whole group of haughty French wizards to deal with too.

The Delacours were an attractive lot, and it was easy to see where Fleur got her looks. The major difference was that while Fleur had learned a bit of humility and open-mindedness through her time at Hogwarts and with Bill, her family was certainly lacking in the “give-a-damn-about-others” department.

Her mother reminded Harry strongly of how Fleur had been at the beginning of their sixth term, but bossier and more overbearing. She was tall and beautiful with long, flowing blonde hair but her voice just couldn't seem to get out of its high pitch. Every time she turned her back on Mrs. Weasley, after giving her a laundry list of orders, Mrs. Weasely looked like she was going to tackle the woman and strangle her with her own hands.

Fleur's father, who also had blone hair which was rather long for a man, had taken a strong interest in Harry, and had followed him around all day, asking all kinds of questions to “Ze boy who lived.” Harry had to keep himself busy with the preparations just to get out of talking to the man and trying to come up with an answer to how he was going to defeat Voldemort. Like I'd tell you if I bloody knew he had thought more than once.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the ceremony got underway and it went beautifully. Harry had never been to a wizard wedding before…or a Muggle one that he could recall. The Dursleys usually kept him locked in the house when they had to go to special events, so he had no idea what to expect.

The Dursleys. There was another unpleasant thought. He'd only stayed with them for a short time, mostly out of respect for Dumbledore and the small amount of protection being with them gave. Still, he couldn't measure the relief when Ron and the twins had shown up at the house to collect him several days ago.

There was a hint of wonder in the air as the wedding ceremony was performed, and having it at sunset had been a brilliant idea. The sky was lit with every shade of red, orange and purple Harry could imagine as the couple took their vows. To his surprise, Harry noticed a single tear of joy slide down Fleur's otherwise flawless face as she said hers.

During the ceremony he was seated on the groom's side, a few rows back with Lupin and Tonks, who never seemed to let go of each other's hand the entire time. It wasn't that he hadn't been invited to sit in the front with the Weasleys and Hermione, but he just felt more comfortable not being in plain sight, despite Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's pleas to join them. Hermione and Ginny had arrived after he was already seated, and he could just make out the back of their heads through the crowd in front of him. It was probably for the best, though; sitting next to Ginny at a wedding could be more than a little awkward, and he wanted to avoid dealing with that as much as possible.

After the wedding was over, the crowd dispersed to get ready for the reception; Harry allowed everyone a few moments to move about before he got up. People were already moving the chairs to clear the main section of the yard and just as the sky finally turned dark, dozens of lights that had been strung all over and even some floating ones turned on, transforming the backyard of the Burrow into a little piece of the sky. Harry had to admit it was quite pretty.

He couldn't find the girls anywhere, but found Ron standing to the side, clearly looking for him. He made his way over to him and couldn't help but smile at the relief on Ron's face when he saw him.

“There you are mate,” he said as Harry came to a stop next to him. “Was gettin' worried for a moment.”

“Worried? About what?” Harry asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Oh, you know…just…”Ron started, but never finished, instead looking out at all the people.

Harry did know exactly what he meant: ever since he'd arrived the whole Weasley family and Hermione had been watching him like they thought he was going to turn into a toad at any second. They tried to do it casually, like they were just concerned about his safety, but he knew it was more than that. The pain of Dumbledore's absence still ran through him, and they knew that he was going to try to go find the Horcuxes on his own, and they were not prepared to let him do that. Harry knew all of this and played along, not making any attempts to go off on his own or anything, hoping they would let their guards down enough for him to make his move. Tonight.

The reason for leaving tonight was twofold: first off, there were going to be so many people there, and the day was going to take so much energy, that he could rest assured that everyone would be sleeping soundly in the house that night. The other reason had come from an unlikely source: Fred and George. The twins, not losing their delight in causing problems for people as they grew older, had decided it would be a good idea to add some kind of enchanted, flavorless liquor to the punch. Fred had mentioned something about it helping to “loosen up the Delacours before Mum kills them all.” Aside from his natural appreciation of the twins' sense of humor, he also recognized it as another element to help him make his escape tonight and so had completely supported the plan.

So he couldn't help but smile when Ron dipped a glass cup in the punch and took a long swig.

“What's so funny?” Ron asked with a confused half-smile.

“Oh, nothing. Just remembering the first time I saw you in dress robes is all,” Harry said with a wicked smirk.

“Nose down Harry,” Ron said, smiling too. “I did better this time.”

Harry just laughed to himself but before he and Ron could talk more, Mrs. Weasley came up and dragged Ron away for pictures. Again Harry was left alone to observe everyone reconvening back in the yard for the reception. A band had been set up in one of corner, and he could see people setting up plates of delicious looking food and an enormous wedding cake. As more people started appearing on the scene, the band started to play.

Suddenly he heard a soft voice say “Hullo Harry,” and he turned to see Ginny looking at him. She looked lovely, all dressed up with small white butterflies and beads strung through her hair.

He could feel his voice waiver as he managed to spit out, “Er…hullo Ginny.”

There was a silence that seemed to stretch out forever as Harry grappled for something to say.

Before he said anything, Ginny started speaking, her words coming out in a rush, like she had been holding them in for a while.

“Look Harry, I know you've been avoiding me since you got here.” Before Harry could even start to deny it, she plowed on, “And I know why. You don't have to worry Harry. At first I was really angry with you, because I want to help you so much, but I've come to realize that you must have had a reason for what you did.”

What I did? Harry thought to himself bitterly. I don't want you to get hurt, and you act like I did something wrong.

“I'm going to let you do what you have to, because I know it needs to be done, and when things are over, we can talk,” she said firmly, like some kind of agreement had been made, and then she was off again, leaving nothing but the faint scent of lavender and a very confused wizard behind.

Bloody hell Harry thought. More and more lately, he wondered if what he and Ginny had had just been a passion, heat-of-the-moment type thing. He was afraid that once he ended it, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her, but much to his surprise, she had just faded into the back of his mind. As he looked at the few couples that were dancing to the music, he had to admit he was relieved; with what he had to do, he didn't need anything clouding his mind.

And then he turned and saw Hermione walking towards him.

It might have been the fact that he hadn't seen Hermione dressed up since fourth year, it might have been the music, the lights and the fact that they were at a wedding, or it might just have been the fact that he was looking at his best friend, the one he could always count on no matter what, but the only thought that went through Harry's mind as she walked over to him was, I have never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.

Hermione was in an emerald-green gown, that wasn't exactly tight, but certainly did not hide the fact that she was well on her way to becoming a woman. She had no jewelry on except for a single silver necklace with a small diamond and her auburn hair was braided twice, and as she turned to wave at someone, he could see it was tied together at the back, with a single white flower where the braids met. The rest of her hair was waterfall of ringlets.

She smiled radiantly at him, and he noticed that her soft, pink lips had a kind of shimmering gloss to them. He suddenly felt like his face was on fire on he had lost all memory of how to form words. Everything around him seemed to fade to black and white and the only color he saw seemed to be coming from her; she was practically glowing. As she neared him, he desperately tried to remember how to speak.

“Hi Harry,” she said happily, stopping next to him and looking up at him. “You look handsome.”

And just like that, Harry remembered that it was Hermione he was talking to, and he suddenly felt calm and relaxed, like they were just talking in the Gryffindor common room like they always did.

“Not as gorgeous as you do, Hermione,” he said with the first genuine smile he'd had in a long time. She grinned and looked down, and he could tell she was blushing. “Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“It was gorgeous, except for that horrible Delacour woman terrorizing everyone.” They shared a laugh at this and looked at the people dancing.

Before he knew what he was doing, he looked at Hermione and said, “Would you like to dance?”

This time her face went completely scarlet, but she nodded and took his arm as he led her onto the dance floor. The music was slow and she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed his hands carefully on her waist. He hadn't danced since the Yule Ball, but with a slow song and partner like this, there wasn't much to know.

They danced quietly for a moment, and for that brief space of time, Harry allowed himself to forget what he had to do later that night: that he wasn't sure if or when he would see any of these people again, and how much he was going to miss them.

“Harry, is something wrong?” Hermione asked, a look of concern on her face.

“No, everything's fine. I was just enjoying the moment, is all,” he said, smiling with what he hoped was reassurance.

Hermione wouldn't be put off that easily, however. She suddenly asked, “Harry, why didn't you come sit with us during the wedding?”

Thrown off by the abruptness of the question, Harry searched for an answer. “I just didn't want to be in the front row…felt like it'd be taking the spotlight from Bill and Fleur.”

She just looked at him and he could tell she didn't completely believe him.

“And I was a little worried about being around Ginny,” he admitted, and she laughed.

“That I believe.”

He smiled at her and they again fell into silence, although Harry could tell Hermione was far from finished with him. She may not be wearing her usual clothes, but she was the same dedicated - albeit stubborn - girl she always was.

The song ended and Harry reluctantly let Hermione go. Everyone applauded and Hermione looked like she was about to say something to Harry when Mrs. Weasley appeared and asked for Hermione's help with Ginny's dress. As she was lead away she gave Harry a searching look that made him feel a little uncomfortable; like she knew something he didn't.

He heard loud laughing from behind him, and turned to see a very wobbly-legged wizard trying to make his away to a seat from the punch bowl, aided by a laughing Fred and George.

As if shaking himself out of a trance, Harry made his way over to the twins, who deposited the man is his seat and headed back to the punch. He was going to have to make sure everyone had a drink or two before the night was over.

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The wind howled around Harry and he stood up, shaking out his arms and legs and cursing himself for taking such a long break. He should be much farther away then he was now. It didn't appear that anyone was looking for him, because he could still only make out the faint light of the Burrow in the distance, but at this point, he couldn't count on anything.

One thing was certain, though - his planned had worked like a charm. Everyone was either so exhausted from the day or from a couple trips to the punch bowl, that Harry probably could have stomped his way out of the Burrow without waking anyone up. Ron had been fast asleep and the loud snores he heard coming from the twins' room let him know that they hadn't been completely generous with the punch, and he couldn't help but smile at that. As he passed the room Ginny and Hermione shared, he stopped and put his ear to the door and heard nothing. Stepping away from that door was harder than he expected it would be, but he didn't have time to ponder the reason. With extra light steps by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's door, he managed to get outside and on his way without a sound.

So far, so good.

He was just about ready to start off again when he heard footsteps heading his direction from the Burrow.

Had he been spotted? Had he sat there too long, and now his enemies were going to catch him before he even started. Even though he had his Invisibility Cloak on, he still hunkered down behind the stump, hoping whoever was following him would miss him there. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but it was all he could do.

The footsteps drew nearer and he pulled out his wand, anticipating some cloaked and hooded figure to be on his trail, so when he saw Hermione go walking by, wrapped tightly in a coat with a pack on her back, he nearly fell over.

“What the bloody…” he said, before realizing he was speaking out loud and clapped a hand over his mouth. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and was looking around the little clearing.

Please let her not have heard me, please let the wind have covered my voice he begged.

She looked at the stump he was behind for a second before smirking and saying, “Nice try, Harry. You can take your cloak off.”

A slew of curses rambled through his brain as he stood up and removed his Invisibility Cloak. She looked triumphant but he just started talking before she could say anything.

“Hermione, what the bloody hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be back at the Burrow! Don't you have any idea how dangerous it is to be alone, especially now!”

She looked taken aback by the fact that he was practically yelling at her and her voice took on a steely cool.

“I could say the same to you, Harry Potter.”

He was in no mood to deal with this; he had to get away now!

“Look Hermione, I know what I'm doing! It has to be this way. I'm not letting anyone else die for me. I have to finish this on my own!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, “I'd always heard that there was a thin line between bravery and stupidity.”

Harry's eyes bulged at this, and his hand balled into fists.

“Hermione, listen to me…”

“NO! You listen to me! If you actually think you can do this on your own, you're just kidding yourself, Harry! Didn't Dumbledore tell you to always remember you're not alone?! Are you going to just ignore him?!”

That she would bring up Dumbledore at a time like this made the heat rise in Harry's face and he stepped closer to her.

“Do not speak of Dumbledore to me,” he said, his voice as hard as rock.

Hermione seemed to have reached some point of no return, because she would normally back off a little when he got like this, but she pushed ahead anyway and he could see a tear roll down her cheek.

“Why not? Do you think you're the only one who feels his loss Harry! We all do! I know you think you're trying to save us all some pain in case anything happens, but have you thought about what we would do if something were to happen to you and we weren't there to help you? What we would do if we lost you?! What I would do if I lost you…” she trailed off, literally trembling with emotion.

Harry stood there at a loss for words. He had never seen Hermione like this before. Another tear slipped down her cheek, and he wanted nothing more than to go over comfort his friend, but he was rooted to the spot.

The wind continued its assault on the night, and suddenly the clouds broke and the moon shone down on them and Harry noticed a faint glow on Hermione's lips. He had a sudden image of her back at the reception, with the same shine on her lips. She was worried about you then a voice rang out in his mind, and she still is now.

She's always been worried about me, Harry thought to himself. He'd been through enough in the years of their friendship to prove to anyone that he could handle things, but she was always there - thinking about him and trying to make sure he was okay. Always. Why was she always there?

The same voice that had spoken before answered the question for him: because she loves you. It was then that Harry realized two things: that the voice wasn't his mind, but his heart. And that it was right.

That was the final crack, and before he knew it he was in front of her, leaned in and kissed her, savoring the sweet taste of her lips. He never, ever thought he'd be doing this, but now that he was, he wondered why he never had before. At first he could taste her breath as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, but then she was intensely kissing him back.

He pulled away and took a deep breath, still savoring the feeling of the kiss; it hadn't been fumbling or confused like his kiss with Cho, nor passionate or surprising like with Ginny. It had just felt…right.

They both stood there, feeling awkward for one of the few times in their relationship. Harry knew that what he had just done would affect everything; that there was no going back. The only thing to do is move forward.

He sighed aloud, breaking the silence.

“Well, I suppose there's no getting rid of you is there?” he said. She looked up, a hurt look playing across her face, until she saw that he was smiling. Then she smiled back and shook her head.

“Sorry, you're stuck with me.”

He smiled. “What about Ron?” he asked, suddenly feeling horrible about leaving him behind.

“Don't worry, he'll be our contact at Hogwarts, and we can use him to get in when we need to.”

Harry arched an eyebrow.

“Come on Harry, you honestly didn't expect Fred and George to keep their little punch idea to themselves did you? Of course we knew.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “So I guess you had this all planned out, didn't you?”

She smiled and blushed. “Not all of it.”

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. “Well, I guess we'd better get moving then, Miss Know-it-all. We've got some ground to cover.”

She nodded and they started walking away; away from the Burrow, from safety, from friends and family and from the familiar.

“Do you know where we're going Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I've got an idea,” he answered.

They passed through some tall grass and into a field and Harry thought to himself, Well, I didn't want a distraction, but looks like I've got one after all.

Suddenly Hermione slipped her hand into his and he smiled. As it turned out, he wouldn't have it any other way.

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