Disclaimer: All things HP belong to JKR; I just borrow her world for fun and not for profit.
Author's Note: Written for my dear sbeegee's and emiliap's birthdays.
Searching for Destiny
Part 1: It Happened One Night
At precisely 8:22 in the evening on June 30, 2001, Harry Potter fell in love.
He knew the time because there was a very large, ornate clock that happened to be straight in his line of sight from where he was standing in the ballroom of the Avalon Hotel-and he remembered it because, well, falling in love was an enormous thing. An earth-shaking, life-changing event.
And as seemed typical with him (since he had never had what anyone would call a boring life) when he fell in love, he felt it all over his body, knew it with all his body, mind and soul. He was in love.
With her.
And it was a dramatic moment, a moment when thunder should have crashed and lightning should have lit up the world or trumpets should have blared an announcement-or something. But nothing happened.
Except he knew.
He didn't know her name-yet. But that didn't matter because somehow, he knew, looking at her at that moment, that she was right. She was the one. That one person who had been put on this earth for him, whom he had been made for.
It was something about the turn of her head as she looked over her shoulder at someone who had said something. Something about the curve of her cheek, the shape of her face. Something about the sweetness of her smile as she answered whoever had spoken to her and made her turn around.
It was just something about her-and he knew.
He wasn't even sure why he knew but he did. She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; he didn't like to think he could be that shallow and, it had to be admitted, with his status as the hero of the wizarding world, he had had more than his fair share of gorgeous witches fluttering around him and had never fallen for any of them. She was very pretty, yes, but it was more than that, he decided. It was in her smile, in her expression as she listened to what the other person (whoever she was) was saying, as if the other person were speaking the most important, most eloquent words ever spoken by man.
And then- Merlin and all the fates be praised!- he saw a very familiar person go up to her and smile and say hello.
Ginny knew her.
And just like that, without his having consciously decided to move, he found his feet moving and carrying him across the ballroom floor to where Ginny was standing with her. Destiny, he decided he'd call her until he knew her name- and possibly even after. Destiny. Because that's what she was, to him. And he rather liked the sound of it.
"Ginny, hi. I didn't see you earlier," he greeted Ginny with a smile as he lied about not having seen her. He had seen Ginny the moment she walked in; it was impossible not to notice Ginny's entrance with her red hair and the rather vivid, emerald green dress robes she was wearing tonight.
Ginny turned to him with a smile. "Harry, it's good to see you." She brushed her lips against his cheek in a sisterly fashion, as she had taken to doing occasionally.
Harry turned his gaze to Destiny, his eyes quickly taking in every detail of her. She had blue eyes, along with light brown hair, a small smattering of freckles across her cheeks that were hard to see unless you were standing close by. And when she was smiling, as she was now, there was just the hint of a dimple in one cheek. He decided he wanted to kiss that dimple.
Ginny turned her smile to Destiny, looking between them as she said easily, "Harry, this is Ashley Featherton. She works in Twillfit and Tatting's. Ashley, this, although I'm sure I don't really need to say it, is Harry Potter."
"It's nice to meet you." It was amazing how normal he sounded even though he was shaking the hand of his Destiny for the first time, being introduced to her, finally learning her name.
Ashley Featherton.
A pretty name for a pretty witch.
And then he stopped, almost horrified at himself for thinking such a horribly clichéd phrase.
"Oh my. I mean, yes, of course, it's nice to meet you. It's- it's an honor; it's- a privilege. I mean, I'm thrilled…" Ashley belatedly said in response to his commonplace words. Or not so much said as gushed, really.
Okay. So she was nervous and he had surprised her. That was fine.
He laughed slightly, trying to make her feel more at ease. "It's a common emotion," he joked. "Until people realize I'm really quite ordinary."
"Oh no, I'm sure…" Ashley began.
"Really, don't feel embarrassed. I think the worst was when someone told me on meeting me for the first time that I wasn't as tall as they had expected."
She laughed. She laughed! He had made her laugh.
He suddenly felt like a king. A god. Like he could face down ten Hungarian Horntails with his hands tied behind his back and blindfolded. He had made her laugh. A laugh that reminded him of music.
Ginny looked between Harry and Ashley and hid her smile. She glanced around and spotted Hermione. Perfect. She smiled at them. "I see someone I should say hello to. I'll leave you two to get to know each other."
Harry barely gave her a glance as she left and Ashley looked a bit dazed as she smiled and nodded at whatever pleasantry Harry had just said. Small talk, she was sure (and Harry had gotten surprisingly good at it after years of having to talk to strangers who introduced themselves the moment they saw his scar and realized who he was) but it was enough.
She was still smiling when she approached Hermione, who noticed and skipped her greeting to say, "What has you looking so smug?"
"Harry."
Hermione glanced around. "What has he done?"
"He's smitten."
Hermione blinked. She couldn't have heard that right. "What?"
"Smitten. He fancies her, I know he does."
"Who?"
Very good, Hermione, if she restricted her questions to one word, then maybe no one would notice that her throat had closed up and she was finding it hard to breathe.
"Ashley."
"Who?"
Ginny sighed a little. "Ashley Featherton. You've never been to Twillfit and Tatting's yet, have you?"
Hermione blinked. What did that have to do with Harry being smitten? "No…"
"Ashley's the manager of the store. I've gotten to know her quite well these past few years since I started shopping there."
"Oh. Well, I mostly stick to Madam Malkin's," Hermione managed a little lamely.
"Honestly, Hermione. Madam Malkin's is fine for every-day wear but for dress robes, the stock tends to be too limited. You should try Twillfit and Tatting's; they have a much better selection."
No, Hermione didn't think she would. Not as long as this Ashley whom Harry apparently fancied was working there. She rather thought she would sooner go to a fancy ball dressed in a burlap sack rather than having to go to the witch Harry fancied to buy new dress robes. It wasn't as if the one man she really wanted to notice her would notice…
"Anyway," Ginny was going on, "I just introduced Harry to Ashley and I could see it. He fancies her." Ginny nudged Hermione's arm. "Look! You can see it in the way he's smiling at her. You know Harry; you know the way he looks at girls when he fancies them."
And almost against her will, driven by some inexplicable compulsion to know for sure that Ginny was telling the truth, Hermione looked.
And she could see it. She did know the way Harry looked at girls he fancied; it wasn't too obvious but it was there for anyone who knew him well enough to see. Hermione saw it; Ron would recognize the look. Ginny recognized the look because he had once looked at her like that. He had looked at Cho like that, way back when. And he had looked at every girlfriend he had had since the final defeat of Voldemort (all 3 of them) like that. At least, until something changed and he suddenly stopped. But it was the same look. She knew the look.
As if he was staring at the sun and moon and stars all rolled into one, as if the rest of the world didn't exist as long as he could look at her. It was a sort of expectant look, a hopeful look, as if he were always watching for some smile, some sign that the witch felt the same way about him (and, always so far, they had.)
It was a look Hermione sometimes thought she would give anything she had, to see it directed at herself.
And seeing it directed at yet another girl who wasn't her just- hurt. Hurt like a remorseless hand had reached in and grabbed her heart and was squeezing it. Hurt until she had to look away until she met Ron's gaze and managed a smile in response to his slight wave.
She thought she was used to it by now. After all, she had had 3 years and as many girlfriends of Harry's to get used to the pain of seeing Harry with someone else when what she really wanted was for Harry to look at her like that, for Harry to belong to her… What she really wanted was for Harry to love her, the way she loved him.
She wondered sometimes if she was being punished in some way for her own blind stupidity in not having realized sooner that she was in love with Harry. She should have realized it years before she finally had, when they'd been nearly a year out of Hogwarts. She should have realized just why it was that her entire life centered around him and it just felt right, should have realized why it hurt her with an almost physical pain to see him in pain or particularly troubled. Should have realized why she knew she would, quite literally, do anything for him. She should have realized why the sight of his smile, the sound of his laugh, always made her heart lift a little. She should have realized that of course she didn't fancy Ron, that it had always been Harry whom she really cared about… She should have realized that, when it came right down to it, Harry was the one who understood her and who comforted her and whom she relied on for strength and encouragement when she needed it. Harry was the one who made her happy. She really should have realized it.
But she hadn't-not until nearly a full year after the final defeat of Voldemort when Harry had finally begun to feel as if he could lead a normal life, could stop looking over his shoulder almost constantly.
And then, one day, he had simply smiled at her about something-she couldn't even remember what exactly-and she'd known.
She didn't just love and care about Harry as her best friend; she was in love with Harry. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably.
Hopelessly, another voice in her mind inserted, and she suppressed a wince.
"Do you know Ashley well?" she finally asked Ginny, finding her voice.
"Yes, well enough. I actually like her quite a bit, think she could be good for Harry. She's actually quite clever about certain things and she's very nice, has a sense of humor and she likes Quidditch too." Ginny paused and added with a wink, "Ron would like her too; she supports the Cannons."
"I should meet her and get to know her," Hermione commented casually. Drat her, this Ashley did sound almost perfect for Harry.
"Make sure she's good enough for your precious best friend?" Ginny asked lightly.
"What? I don't- I wasn't-I wouldn't do that!"
Ginny let out a crack of laughter. "Oh, yes you do! You've gotten to know every one of Harry's girlfriends, testing them, to make sure they're good enough for him. And you've had to give them your seal of approval before Harry would even do anything serious."
Hermione gaped at Ginny. "That's not true!"
Ginny shrugged. "Maybe not entirely, but it is true that you've gone out of your way to meet all of Harry's girlfriends and I know that if Harry ever tried to date a girl you didn't like, you would put a stop to it."
"I wouldn't-he wouldn't-even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop him if he really fancied a girl!"
Ginny gave her an odd look. "Maybe you've just been lucky so far in that none of the girls Harry's fancied has been the type you wouldn't want him to date so it's never been put to the test. I don't know, I think if you really told him you didn't like someone, he would listen to you. You know how much he trusts your opinion."
"He doesn't trust me that much. Not about things like that," Hermione argued. And it was true. Harry did trust her but it didn't stop him from disagreeing with her when he thought she was wrong and she doubted- no, she was as sure as she could be without it ever having actually happened- that in a case where romance was involved, Harry would still act according to his own opinion and his own feelings. He wasn't some sort of puppet to be manipulated according to her will; he was too stubborn, for one thing.
Ginny just shrugged. "If you say so."
"I do," Hermione said simply. "But tell me more about Ashley. How long have you known her? How old is she?"
"She's my age. She went to Beauxbatons, though, because her mother is French and she went to Beauxbatons too. She's really quite clever and she's very good at what she does, managing a store. I don't quite know how she does it but she always manages to make sure I never leave Twillfit and Tatting's without having bought something and I've never regretted buying any of her choices."
"Well, that's good to know," Hermione murmured, trying not to sound sarcastic. She was fond of Ginny, honestly she was, but she did have a tendency to get a bit caught up with talk about clothes sometimes.
"I know she likes the Cannons because she mentioned having gone to one of their matches and how disappointed she'd been when they lost. She's very sweet; she remembers almost every person who's shopped at the store even once and keeps track of the family members and close friends of those people who come by on a semi-regular basis."
All of which was very well and good but it wasn't enough for Hermione. Hermione stifled a sigh; she was going to have to get to know this Ashley for herself. And for a fleeting moment, she wished almost desperately that this Ashley would turn out to secretly be a former Death Eater or have some other fatal flaw that would make Harry realize he could not date her… Not that his realizing he couldn't date Ashley would make him realize he wanted to date Hermione-but it would still spare her some pain. And then she was promptly ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing. She wanted Harry to be happy; she honestly did and if Ashley was the person to make him happy, then she would support him every step of the way.
She was his best friend; that was what best friends did…
To be continued…
A/N 2: And yes, in case you need the reassurance, I do promise a happy H/Hr ending!