A/N
This is something I cooked up when I got home from a graduation I'd just attended. Only the vaguest of
plotlines have been sketched. I have no idea where it's headed, only that there will be loads of angst ahead, be
warned. This chapter's actually pretty happy though.
sit back, relax, and, as always, I only WISH I was JK Rowling.
"The Graduates"
It's been years since their own graduation. More than she cares to remember. It wasn't the last good night they had; far from it. It was, however, the last night of photographs. She doesn't like them and never lets them be taken. But that night was special; she'd made an exception.
She had sobbed the entire day. It was a tradition that the graduating class be totally packed. Their last day was spent quietly roaming the grounds, going to their favorite haunts, and getting applauded at breakfast. The younger students left on the trains early in the morning, and the campus was empty.
She and Ron and he had gone to their favorite place by the lake. They had sat and talked and, at one point, their hands had brushed: she and Harry. She liked the sound of that. They played truth. After a few silly questions, Ron, with a gleam in his eye, asked something unexpected…
"Harry, if you could date any girl in our year, any at all, who would it be?"
Harry thought for a minute. Hermione held her breath, and then he began to speak.
"You know…I think it would be Hermione."
"Why?"
"Because," he answered simply, "She makes me laugh. And because we're good friends already. And because she knows me really well."
She could have fainted with joy. He noticed, and asked if the heat was maybe too much for her. She shook her head and smiled. And then she cried some more. And then, again, he asked if she was alright. All she could get out between wracking sobs was an "Of course not. Do I look fine?"
He held her. His arms were warm, strong from years of quidditch, huge, forgiving, tender, gentle: anything one could want in arms that held. And oh he did hold on to his Hermione, rocking gently with her until she calmed, whispering sweet-nothings in her ear.
********
They reconvened in the common room, with only a little time to spare. The graduating class wore robes of their house's colors (for the boys) or white (for the girls). It was a time-honored tradition, and one that wasn't offensive. Harry wore red, Ron gold, Hermione white (with red and gold ribbons in her hair). Neither boy told her she looked beautiful. Neither looked shocked to see her. She wasn't hurt. She smiled for the first time that day.
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