Right and Easy
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing it.
Summary: All of Harry Potter's most important decisions seem to boil down to one issue: Sometimes what is right is not always what is easy.
AN: This is my first work up on Portkey. Thanks so much for reading, and don't be afraid to tell me what you think!
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The hot August sun was causing beads of sweat to roll down the back of Harry Potter's neck and into his dress robes. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked around. Just about everyone that he knew in the wizarding world was facing him, sitting in white lawn chairs. There were probably a hundred or so wizards and witches that he did not recognize at all. Everyone had beaming faces. Everyone that is, except for Harry. He was fairly certain that he was going to retch up his lunch here in front of everyone.
The front lawn of Hogwarts was decorated beautifully if, Harry supposed, you went for the over the top frilly look for a wedding. In his opinion, it reminded him too much of Madam Puddifut's. In fact, the more Harry thought about it, the more he was sure that the fat cherubs flying over the audience were the same ones from the tea shop. The cherubs were flying in heart formation, tossing down handfuls of pink rose petals. Traditionally, it was the bride's family that was responsible for the wedding, but since Hermione's parents had both been killed during the second war, Mrs. Weasley offered to do all the decorations herself for the wedding. Harry knew that it was a nice gesture, but he privately thought that Mrs. Weasley should stick to making jumpers and sweets. His eyes found the plump witch in the crowd and Harry laughed to himself as he saw her sobbing already, before the wedding even started.
Harry turned his eyes back to the aisle, his mind going back in time.
OooO *****Three Years Ago***** OooO
Harry rushed into Amerigo's Italiana, the new bistro in Diagon Alley, sure that he was late. He looked around the room, and spotted her at a table in the corner, menu obscuring everything but her mass of brown hair. Smiling to himself, Harry walked over and slid into the seat across from her.
"Sorry I'm late."
She put down the menu and beamed at him. "Oh no, not at all. I just got here myself."
Soft Italian music was playing in the background, and the restaurant was just full enough that a pleasant humming of voices could be heard. The two made agreeable small talk until the waiter came. Harry ordered a chicken panini, and Hermione choose a small salad. He raised an eyebrow. Defensively, she protested that she was trying to eat healthier, until Harry laughed and ordered an appetizer of gnocchi, with two forks, `just in case.'
When the appetizer got to the table, Hermione greedily grabbed her fork, but Harry batted her hand away.
"No," he said cheekily, "you just wanted a salad. This is all for me."
Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling. "Oh ha, ha. Now pass the plate over."
As he did, their eyes met, and Hermione's smile slowly faded. She absently twisted her watch around on her right hand (Hermione always wore her watch on her right hand instead of her left. That way, she would say, she could check the time without looking up from taking her notes).
"Harry, you know I always love seeing you, but are you going to tell me why you asked me to meet you here?"
"What? Can't a guy ask his best friend out to lunch for no reason?"
Her hair bounced as she leaned forward in her seat and smirked at him. "Harry James Potter! I have known you for eight years, two weeks, and three days. I should think by now I'd be able to tell when you had something on your mind."
Harry shifted in his Auror robes uncomfortably. Hermione always had a knack for knowing when he was hiding something. After the war, when he had secretly been planning on leaving for a private holiday, Hermione somehow knew. He came home one day to find a basket of travel books and empty postcards on his living room table. As soon as he saw them, Harry knew they were from Hermione. He raised his water glass to his lips, said quickly, "Ginnyaskedmetomarryher."
"Come again?"
"Ginny asked me to marry her."
Hermione's eyes bulged and her mouth worked for a minute until she shook her head and grinned. "Oh! Oh, that's great news. I'm sure you'll be very happy…"
He grew even more uncomfortable, and busied himself with moving the rest of the gnocchi around on the plate. "I said no."
Her mouth began opening and closing again. Finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry, for the sake of repetition, come again?"
Sighing, Harry repeated himself.
"Why ever not?"
Just then, the waiter came as if to save him. Harry smiled gratefully at the waiter before shoving his Panini in his mouth to avoid answering Hermione. He chewed as long as humanly possible before looking up at the witch's puzzled face.
Taking a gulp of water, Harry looked at his best friend. "Do you ever get the feeling that you're doing something, not because you want to, but because it's the right thing?" Hermione slowly nodded, so he continued. "Well, all my wizarding life I've done things because they were the right thing. Dumbledore stressed the importance of doing what was right over what was easy. But," he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated, "I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of being selfless, and I'm exhausted with having to pretend that what everyone expects of me is what I want too. Don't I get a say sometime? "
"Oh, Harry," cried Hermione despondently, "You have done so much for so many people. You deserve to be happy too." She looked down as her hands fiddled with her napkin, and Harry could see her chin quivering. He reached across the table and held her hand in his.
"Tell me what's wrong."
As she raised her large, very wet eyes back up to meet his green ones, Harry could see a mixture of anguish, envy, and something else. He froze, transfixed. "Sometimes," he said, "the way you look at me scares me."
Smiling sadly, Hermione replied, "Sometimes it scares me too."
OooO*****Present*****OooO
And now here Harry was, standing up in front of hundreds of people and dozens of press members, waiting with everyone for Hermione to come down the aisle.
To give himself something to do, Harry looked around the expectant crowd. He could see Remus and Tonks in the middle. Tonks was bouncing a happy one year old witchling on her knee. Next to them were a few other Aurors he knew from the department. On the left hand side was Minerva McGonagle, leaning up against her white-haired husband. It had been quite a shock to Harry's system after he left Hogwarts to discover that his strict professor had been married all those years. She apparently wanted to keep her personal life separate from her teaching.
Finally, he could see a figure come around the corner and down the aisle. Except instead of bushy brown hair and a white dress, this woman was racing down the aisle, flaming red hair whipping around her yellow gown. She looked like a ball of fire crashing towards him.
Harry stepped forward worriedly to meet a breathless Ginny, ignoring the murmuring in the crowd.
Taking her by the arms, he asked quietly, "Ginny, what's wrong?"
The witch took a moment to breath before panting, "nothing really. I just wanted to warn you that it's going to take a few minutes. Damn, these shoes hurt to run in," she said distractedly.
"Is everything going okay in there?" questioned Harry.
Mindful of all the guests, Ginny leaned up and murmured in his ear, "We had some…issues with the pledging spells, but not to worry, they're all fixed now." Ginny smiled uncertainly at Harry's raised eyebrows. "Really, we'll be ready in a moment."
Harry knew how important the pledging spells were. In a wedding, they were vital to the happiness of the couple in question. Both parties completed the spells before the wedding could start, and they performed a final, soul binding pledge at the end of the wedding in front of all the onlookers. The three main spells were the pledge of eternity, the pledge of devotion, and the pledge of trust. If Hermione didn't complete them properly, the wedding might as well be a sham.
Harry still looked obviously worried, so Ginny gave him a quick thumbs up before sprinting back towards the bride's room.
Wiping his clammy hands, Harry turned back to the men waiting at the altar. He smiled sheepishly.
"Everything's fine, they're just running late."
Neville looked understanding, Fred and George laughed, and Ron rolled his eyes and muttered, "women" under his breath. Harry smiled slightly and went back to his place.
Glancing sideways at his best friend, Harry started to feel sick again. He was pretty sure that if he had to stand up here much longer he would pass out. It'd give the reporters the news story they were looking for. Looking around the crowd, Harry caught the eye of Luna Loovegood in the second row. She gave him her infamous penetrating gaze, before shrugging sadly and conjuring a bag of popcorn to munch on. Harry swayed on spot.
"Hey mate, you okay?" asked Ron, putting a hand on his shoulder.
OooO*****Two years ago*****OooO
"Hey mate, you okay?" asked Ron, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Harry lay with his head smashed against the table. "Uhh… the room is spinning."
George laughed and pulled the black haired boy back up in his seat. "That's what you get for drinking that much firewhisky at once, mate."
Fred joined in, "you should have seen Ron though, when we took him out for his twentieth."
"But the good news is that you are officially no longer a teenager."
"You, my friend, are a man."
Harry groaned. "How come I feel more like roadkill then?"
The twins winked and said, "that's what being a man feels like."
Harry merely groaned again and his head fell back on to the table.
Empty shot glasses littered the table at the Hogs Head. Quite a few well-wishers had come out to congratulate Harry on his birthday. The four men were the only remaining. The three Weasleys were currently munching on some nuts but Fred and George looked like the party was only starting for them, both setting up another double shot. Harry was clutching a mostly empty firewhisky bottle in his arms like it was the last bottle on earth. Ron grabbed the bottle from Harry and took a long swig. "Cheer up mate," he demanded. "The war is over, you have no obligations, and you're drunk. That sounds like a pretty good night to me."
"Here, here!" shouted the twins in unison.
"Here, here…" mumbled Harry from his slumped over position.
Ron stretched his arms out behind his head. "What we need, is a good shag."
George guffawed. "I didn't know you two were out yet."
Ron threw a peanut at him. "Ha, ha. I meant with some birds."
As he shook his head to try and clear out his thoughts, Harry tried to stop the world from spinning around him. His eyes latched on to a patch of red that he assumed was Ron. Smiling drunkenly, he slurred, "I call Hermminone." Even in his drunken state, he didn't miss Ron's head snap towards him, nor the dark look that took over his features. George and Fred happened to miss it at least, and pulled Ron away to go find some girls for them. Harry, suddenly sober, stayed seated, sure that he wouldn't get that look out of his head for a long time.
OooO*****Present*****OooO
Even now, Harry started as he looked at his friend. "Huh? Yeah, everything's good."
The music started playing, and everyone turned their heads to look down the aisle. The maids came up first, Ginny flashing Harry an "all better" smile, followed by a very nervous Hermione Granger. Harry didn't notice anything about her dress. His eyes were transfixed on her face. A face that with eyes darting back and forth between her two best friends. Harry glanced sideways at Ron and could tell that he noticed too. The color had drained out of his face. Reaching up a hand to wipe the sweat off of his brow, Harry was pretty sure that there was no color remaining in his own face. Hermione still had a good twenty meters before she got up to the altar.
Harry was sure that the world was spinning around him very fast. There were ten meters to go. He glanced back at the crowd, only to notice Luna had returned her gaze to him, eyes fixed on his face. Five meters left. Harry idly wondered if anyone would notice if he apparated away to Switzerland right about now. One meter left, and all Harry was sure of was that he was damn tired of these moral dilemmas.
OooO~~~~~One Year Ago~~~~~OooO
"Thanks for coming over, guys," said the teary eyed Irishman.
Ron and Harry gave each other awkward looks, shuffling their feet.
"Er, not a problem, mate," said Harry, worriedly.
Seamus opened the door wider to allow the two men to enter the flat. They entered the small living room and sat down on the couch, waiting expectantly. Harry looked around the apartment. Empty pizza boxes and beer bottles littered the normally immaculate floor. A pile of clothes was sitting in the middle of the room, as if Seamus couldn't even take the time to make it to the bedroom to change anymore.
The other man handed each a beer and sat in a chair across from them. They thanked him and waited in silence. Harry began to pick the label off of his bottle, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron doing the same thing.
Finally, Seamus broke the silence. "I don't know what to do, boys, I really just don't know what to do."
Ron and Harry looked at each other. "About what?" Ron asked.
"I think," he gulped, "I think I've fallen for Parvati."
The room was silent. Parvati had married Dean Thomas over two and a half years ago, right after the war ended. There had been some rumors recently that all was not well in their marriage, Harry tried to not listen to gossip, since he had been on the bad end of it more than once.
And now Seamus had asked Ron and Harry, two of the least emotionally helpful men in their circle, to come over and give him advice.
Ron looked to Harry to say something. "Er, mate," started Harry, "do you know how she feels?"
Slumping back in his chair, Seamus threw his head in his hands. "Nooo," he moaned. "I can't ask her either. But I swear to Merlin that sometimes I see these looks she gives me, like she wants me to come save her from something, but then I blink, and think it's all in my head."
The wizard was in bad shape. He had dark circles under his eyes, and it was obvious he hadn't shaved in days.
Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable, and was being absolutely no help, so Harry decided to try again. "Look Seamus, if you say anything to Parvati, you know it's going to ruin your relationship with Dean. So, I guess you have to decide if it's worth it; if she's worth it."
At this point, Ron was back in familiar territory. "Yeah mate, and I'll tell you what. No bird is worth coming between Harry and me. Girls come and go, but your friends are what matter in the end."
Seamus just threw his head back in his hands.
OooO*****Present*****OooO
And now here he was, staring at his two best friends. Harry knew where Ron stood on the issue. He had said as much that day with Seamus. Things were not so clear for Harry. Being selfish had never been easy for him, but never more than today did he want to be selfish. Hermione had reached the altar, and the member of the Wizengamot began to speak, but Harry couldn't pay any attention to him.
Everything came down to doing what was right versus what was easy. But the trouble was trying to figure out what his options were. Was it easy to just continue on as usual, or was that the hard decision? Was it right to be selfish, or was that easy? What did Hermione deserve more? What did he deserve more?
Hermione was staring fixedly at the wizard, her mouth set in a firm, straight line. He noticed with an astonishing clarity that she merely looked resolved. Ron's grin, on the other hand, was so large that Harry thought it might never come off.
It wasn't until the official asked the obligatory question if there were any objections, that Harry knew what he was going to do. His throat had turned into cement, but he managed to take a step forward. Ron and Hermione both snapped their heads towards him. Flashes of light were coming at him like lightning from the press area. He could vaguely hear the wedding guests murmuring, but it was more of a distant roar in the back of his head. As Ron's jaw slowly dropped, and Hermione's mouth formed a small `O,' Harry slowly took the longest three steps of his life towards her.
"Please." He cleared his throat, and the words seemed to come out of their own accord. "Please Hermione. Don't marry him."
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