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Chapter One
"Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses." -Ann Landers
Harry stared out at the group of Weasleys as they all swayed and danced erratically on the designated dance floor. Off in the corner, Bill was whispering sweet nothings in his bride's ear as she lovingly sat in his lap, staring at him adoringly. Fred and George were doing a jig, often dragging random people in with them and somehow managing to do the same thing their twin was doing, though Harry was almost certain it was too odd to be choreographed prior to the wedding. Charlie was debonairly dancing with a pretty blonde woman who was smiling up at him warmly, a blush to her cheeks. It felt nice to see the aftermath of everything. The morning had been chaos entirely. Mrs. Weasley was running around, barking orders for people to move things and magic things into existence. She was cooking up a storm and not letting anybody eat anything, much to Ron's chagrin. The men were ordered to get dressed into their stifling suits and then told not to wrinkle them in the least. The girls were hurried into rooms to do their hair, makeup dress in their outfits, somehow managing to take hours as they giggled and acted girlish. Harry was reminded of how happy he was that he didn't have to worry about cosmetics, though he did wish he could get his hair to sit still in one style.
Ron was nowhere to be seen, though he had been chatting up Luna Lovegood earlier, oddly enough. Harry was pondering that when Hermione plopped down beside him, looking flushed and half-smiling at him. Her hair was piled up on her head, long tendrils hung around her reddened cheeks and down her back. She was wearing a long white dress that somehow made her glow beautifully. She didn't say anything to him; didn't coax him into dancing or encourage him to stop hiding in the background, though he knew she was probably just dying to make him socialize or leave his dark thoughts behind. He was content just to watch, to see regularity rather than join into it. He felt comfortable on the outside for now. It still felt weird to see something so normal like a wedding happening when there was so much darkness in the world, when not so long ago they were attending Dumbledore's funeral. His chest clenched a moment and he forced back tears as he remembered his Headmaster. He didn't want to think about it, had been trying not to focus too much on it. He'd just fall into another one of his depressed moods and he couldn't risk that with the Hunt needing all his attention.
His eyes found Ginny, talking amicably with Neville Longbottom, who had come along with Luna platonically. Ginny was dressed in a floaty dress that showed off her curves and made her look just as beautiful as any veela Delacour. Neville was shifting on his feet, motioning to the dance floor and Ginny nodded her head, looking over at Harry briefly before taking Neville's hand and leading him out. Harry waited for a roar jealousy from the monster in his chest, but it never came. It had been three weeks since Dumbledore's funeral and his break up with Ginny. Two weeks were spent with the Dursleys to be safe, but he had spent the last week of it at the Burrow with the Weasleys, helping with the wedding and planning with Hermione and Ron.
They had already gone to visit Godric's Hollow so they could envision the place when apparating over. He hadn't gone in the house, wanting to prolong it just a little longer. The idea of going into a home he could have grown up in, a house that his parents were savagely murdered in, a place where his new life as the chosen one began wasn't entirely encouraging. They were leaving tomorrow, or at least Harry and Ron were. Hermione was going to spend one last day with her parents and then head over after she finished dinner with them. Harry was considering not going until Hermione could come. He didn't like the idea of them separating for any amount of time. It just didn't feel safe. He wanted to keep everyone who mattered in his sights for as long as he could. There was a looming doubt filling him and he wasn't sure if he could handle the outcome of whatever Voldemort might be planning now. Also, Hermione tended to be much better emotional stability than Ron, so going to Godric's Hollow without her seemed reckless in some way. She would hold his hand, or rub his back, or simply hug him when he needed it. She would understand it if he cried; wouldn't snicker or shuffle her feet. She would look at him with her patented understanding expression and he would find comfort with her. And as much as he wanted to pretend he could handle it, the thought of showing up at Godric's Hollow with nobody to really keep him stable was shaking him. He sighed, wishing he could ask her not to go back to her parents, but knowing he couldn't do that to her.
As if reading his mind, Hermione said, "I'll be over just after dinner. It won't be late. You can go after supper, too. Mrs. Weasley will make sure you're good and full then we don't have to worry about feeding Ron," she said with a small bit of humor. She looked over at him, and he guessed he didn't look quite reassured, because she continued with, "Really, I will. I won't even have dessert. I just want to say goodbye, you know, at least have one normal evening with them. That way, they can't really be upset or accuse me of simply abandoning them," she tried to explain.
Harry's expression fell. He was taking her away from her family, from any semblance of normality. Again. He wanted to ask her if she was sure, ask her if she wanted to back out of it instead. He wanted to tell her that it would be smarter for her to just leave him behind, to forget all about Harry bloody Potter and escape to a world where Voldemort didn't exist. Pick up being a Muggle for awhile. But he was selfish, and he didn't, didn't tell her to go or hide or save herself. He needed her. Always had, always would.
Hermione sighed, "They don't understand, you know," she said softly. Her hand reached out, wrapping around his gently and squeezing it lightly. She leaned a little closer, as if she was sharing a secret with him. "They want to, I know that. They're good parents, and they have reason to be so worried, but..." Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand and he glanced at her. Her gaze was set off on the twins as they pulled Mrs. Weasley into their dance, who laughed delightedly and went along with it. Hermione's eyes shimmered and she sniffled quietly. Her eyes turned then, finding his, and he saw nothing but sorrow. He wanted to take that away. Some part of him reminded him that this was what he was fighting for. It wasn't for the good of the Wizarding world, not really. It was for people close to him, like Hermione, to take that dark expression from their eyes. To give them a world where they didn't have to see their future full of war and bloodshed.
A lone tear fell down Hermione's cheek and she shook her head, her mouth pursed sadly. "I made a mistake this year. I didn't trust you and I thought only of myself." Her eyes turned off and Harry finally noticed Ron, who was talking with Charlie and sipping from a butterbeer, grinning. "Fact is, I was an idiot." Harry's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but she cut him off before he could agree or disagree. "But that doesn't mean that I haven't learned my lesson now. I'm not about to walk away, Harry. So don't try and talk me out of this anymore. I will go home, I will have a regular boring dinner with my parents where I pretend that the Muggle life is amazing and then I'll come to Godric's Hollow and I'll spend the time planning and securing a way for us to finally defeat Voldemort," she vowed passionately.
Harry stared at her, ignoring the many witches and wizards enjoying the festivities unknowingly. Having no idea that two seventeen year olds were planning to defeat the darkest wizard of their time, without help from any adult. Flashes of clothes and skin and faces went passing by his peripheral vision but he ignored all of them to stare at the girl in front of him. She was sitting up, her back ramrod straight, her expression resolute and triumphant, like she had just found the answer to the question and she had no doubts about telling the world of it. "But, Hermione," he began, thinking that this was the part where he was selfless and saved somebody truly worth saving.
"No Harry, don't you dare try and talk me out of this anymore," she scolded, her brow furrowing and her mouth setting with a stiff frown. "I've made my decision, and it's to be with you," she said, her voice a little more gentle.
Harry wondered a moment over why her words made his stomach flip and his heart tingle a bit. He cleared his throat, thinking that she was quite possibly the most devoted and loyal person he'd ever get the chance to know. Though she had messed up quite largely this past year, it wasn't as if he hadn't made similar moves in the past. He hadn't always trusted her judgment and look where it got him. It just so happened that the one time she didn't believe him, he happened to be very largely right. But, compared to the past, it wasn't as if that one mistake could have really made that much of a difference. She had been there for him through everything else. Yes, she did happen to fail him during a time that he truly needed her, but nobody was perfect and it wasn't her who held the wand to Dumbledore. "Okay," he finally said, half in defeat and half in gratitude. He didn't know what he'd do if she and Ron weren't there. Her mostly in the respect that he needed her to keep him going, to keep him on track, to make sure that he survived. Ron more as a distraction, to keep him from becoming too book oriented or task heavy. His shoulders were weighed down enough as it was. Dumbledore had just died such a short time ago and Harry hadn't even managed to recover from Sirius' death or Cedric's for that matter. He couldn't take much more of this.
"Good," Hermione said, interrupting his pity party. She smiled, her mouth blooming with such a large grin that he couldn't help but return a small smile. She squeezed his hand and he only then realized that she was still holding it. It all felt so normal, so regular that he hadn't even noticed that he was gently clasping his best girl friend's hand. "Now, I'll be there tomorrow tonight and we'll discuss all that we want to do this summer, yeah?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "So lets enjoy today for all it's worth," she said, waving at Mrs. Weasley as she beckoned them on to the dance floor. "Dance with me Harry," she asked him, standing up.
He winced, his eyes moving to the dance floor with worry. "I'm not sure your feet will survive the massacre," he told her quietly.
She shook her head, chuckling lightly. "After all we've been through, you're worried about my feet being trampled in one dance?" she asked humorously.
A smile slowly formed on his mouth and he rose from his seat. She wouldn't make fun of him or be angry if he stepped on her foot the whole night anyway. He let her lead them out onto the floor and smiled at Fred and George as they mockingly did the tango past them. The song changed and Harry moved closer to hold Hermione, wrapping his arms around her small waist and letting his hands sit on the small of her back. Hermione slipped her arms beneath his and instead of wrapping them around his neck, held him around his back, beneath his arms. Her palms pressed against his shoulder blades and her cheek lay over his heart. Harry pulled her a little closer, feeling comfortable in the intimate position. Her hair smelled like strawberries and one of the curls tickled his nose. He rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes, letting the song wash over him, forgetting about the world.
I will remember you. Will you remember me?
Don't let your love pass you by. Weep not for the memories
I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Standing on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much, but cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard.
"D'you really think we can do this?" he asked her softly, needing her reassurance.
Hermione's arms squeezed him. "We can't fail."
"Why?" he wondered, his arms wrapping a little tighter, his fingers lightly grazing against her dress, which felt smooth beneath his skin.
Hermione sighed softly against his chin, rubbing her chin against his black suit coat and soothingly rubbing his back with her fingertips. "I won't let us," she told him simply. Somehow, that encouraged him more than anything.
But I will remember you. Will you remember me?
Don't let your love pass you by. Weep not for the memories
I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose.
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose.
"D'you think we'll live through it though?" he queried, swaying to the song and wondering if he was actually moving away from the one spot. Would he bump into anybody? Could they hear what he and Hermione were talking about?
"Do you, Harry?" she asked, stiffening slightly in his arms when he didn't reply right away.
"I won't let you die," he finally said, pulling her a little tighter. His heart sped up a little as he remembered back in fifth year, when he had thought that she was really gone. She was so still on the ground; she had fallen so limply, so lifelessly. Her expression, he could still see it in his mind. "I won't, Hermione," he vowed, the strength in his voice surprising even him.
"I know, Harry," she replied her arms squeezing his sides. "I know."
Once there was a darkness, a deep and endless night.
You gave me everything you had, oh, you gave me life
And I will remember you. Will you remember me?
Don't let your love pass you by. Weep not for the memories.
"D'you ever wish you weren't part of all this?" he questioned, his eyes opening slightly and looking down, only to see the tip of her nose and the top of her soft curly hair. "Like you hadn't become my friend or been put through all this?"
She turned her head, her chin resting on his chest and her face so close to his he could actually feel her breath on his mouth. A shiver ran down his spine, but he ignored it, staring into her eyes, the deep brown reminding him of chocolate. He could count her freckles if he wanted to. He wondered if Ron had ever been this close to her and that pang he had been waiting for with Ginny and Neville finally came, only it had to do with Ron being close enough to kiss Hermione. Had he? A frown found his mouth and he forced himself not to think about it. It hadn't really bothered him before, but now... Now he wasn't sure he much liked the idea of them together. They fought too much anyway. That shouldn't be the basis of a relationship!
"Harry," she said sweetly, her voice quiet as whisper. He looked at her mouth a moment, finding her lips to be the nicest shade of pink. "I'll never regret being your friend," she told him, her voice gentle but her meaning strong. "These last six years of been one huge trial, but..." she bit her lip, her teeth digging into her plump pink lips in a way that made him lick his own. "It was all worth it, Harry." She shook her head, a tendril of her hair catching on her nose. He reached out before she could, not wanting her arms to come loose from around him. He felt safe wrapped in her, like the outside world couldn't touch him. He moved the curl from her face and pushed it behind her ear. Her cheeks flushed and she smiled up at him warmly. "The only regret I have is that I was so wrapped up in myself this year." She frowned, shaking her head. "I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry I didn't," she told him, her voice shaking.
Harry shook his head, just now noticing that his hand was still resting near her ear. "It's okay," he told her, truly meaning it. "You're here now. You believe me now."
And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your love pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Weep not for the memories
"I'll never doubt you again," she told him, turning her head back to rest her cheek against his chest again. "Well... unless it's something completely moronic," she said, chuckling lightly.
Harry found himself hugging her warmly, no longer even swaying to the song, though he could hear it softly playing in the background. "I don't think I could do this without you," he told her. "And Ron," he added, as an afterthought.
"We wouldn't let you if you tried," she replied, squeezing him lightly. "You shouldn't have to do this alone, Harry. It's not right." She shook her head, sounding rather annoyed that the world thought to put it all on him alone. "I'm always gonna be here, Harry. I'm always going to help you." She sighed, her body shaking slightly against him. "You'll never be alone."
Tipping his head, Harry pressed his face against her shoulder, his cheek pressed against her neck. "Maybe you shouldn't come," he whispered, suddenly feeling like he should hide her away. "You could get hurt. You could be killed. You..." He shook his head, his arms tightening around her like one of Molly's patented bear hugs. "I can't lose you too, Hermione."
"You won't," she told him, her fingers pressing against his back, digging in to the point where it nearly hurt, but somehow comforted. She was there, right there in his arms, alive. "You won't lose me Harry. And even... even if..." He didn't have to see her to know she was biting her lip now. "Even if something happens, I want you to know that I'm very proud of you. I want you to know that no matter how this turns out, I will always be proud of you."
"We're gonna win," he whispered to her hoarsely. "We're gonna win and you're gonna be alive. You and Ron and all the Weasleys. We're all gonna be fine. Right?" he asked, his voice not entirely sure.
Hermione nodded against him. "Yes, Harry. Everyone is going to be fine. We're gonna win. Tomorrow, we will plan our victory," she told him, her tone so strong, so certain, that for that moment, he could imagine a world where they had triumphed and Harry didn't have any Dark Lord's looking to kill him or those he loved. He saw a world where Hermione, Ron, and he were happy, laughing, and living a life free of anything more hazardous than Quidditch and NEWTs exams. It was glorious.
The song ended and Harry suddenly felt another pair of arms wrap around him and Hermione, and then another. He opened his eyes and lifted his chin from her shoulder to see Fred and George hugging them, each pretending to wipe a tear from their eyes. "We just wanted to share in the moment," one said, fake sniffling.
"It looked so cozy, we were quite jealous we hadn't been invited earlier," the other added.
Hermione lifted her head from Harry's chest and rolled her eyes at the twins. "Oh honestly," she said, sighing.
"Oh..." one of the twins said, lifting their brows at the other, "Does ickle Hermione want time alone with Mr. Potter here?" he teased.
"She sounds tetchy to me, George, we must have interrupted something quite intimate," he said, stage-whispering the last word.
"Well, maybe they shouldn't have been cuddling in the middle of the dance floor," George replied, grinning.
"We were not cuddling," Hermione replied, exasperated. "Isn't there some punch you could be spiking?" she wondered, cocking her brow.
George smirked at Fred and they nodded at Harry and then winked at Hermione before hooking their arms together and skipping off to the refreshment table, whistling in a mock-innocent manner.
"Those two are the limit," Hermione said, though she sounded much more fond than angry. She shook her head, looking up at Harry. "I think I might just miss them while we're away."
"FRED! GEORGE! WHAT ARE YOU PUTTING IN THAT PUNCH?" Mrs. Weasley's loud bellow reached them.
"Nothing, mother," they called back in sing-song voices reeking of amusement and mischief.
Hermione snickered, rolling her eyes. "Would you like to go sit down now?" she asked, motioning back to their previous seats.
Before Harry could reply, Mrs. Weasley appeared beside them. Her hair was teetering on her head, looking frazzled and ready to fall from its loose bun. Her cheeks were flushed but she looked quite happy in her flower patterned dress and with her makeup quite messy from all her happy crying and dancing. "Have either of you two seen Ron?" she wondered, looking around and frowning. "He was going to make a toast, but I can't seem to find him," she said, sounding only mildly annoyed. "I found him earlier, but he was pulled away by a blonde girl who was talking animatedly about cloud formations," she told him curiously, her brow furrowed. "Hardly had time to ask him anything before he was trailing behind her, mumbling about nargles," she said, her voice hinting confusion.
Harry frowned, realizing Molly was speaking of Luna and wondering why it was that Ron was off talking to her. A few weeks ago she had stopped by the compartment to play a game of chess with Ron and spent most of the ride conversing with him while Hermione and Harry discussed what it would be like spending the next two weeks with the Dursleys, but Harry had thought Ron was only being polite. Now that he thought about it, Ron was being more than polite with the young Ravenclaw, even going so far as being especially friendly with her. But what sense did that make if Ron was fancying Hermione? he wondered. A scowl appeared on his face at the thought, before his brow furrowed in confusion. Why was it that the thought of Hermione and Ron actually being a couple disturbed him so much lately? What changed, really? It had been leading to it all along, hadn't it? He sighed dejectedly, glancing back to see if Hermione was irritated at the idea of Ron being off with Luna, but she was simply looking around curiously for her other best friend.
"D'you know her then, Harry?" Molly asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "I was hoping you might be able to find him," she said, wringing her hands. "It's getting late, people are getting a little knackered and things are beginning to wind down. I know he really wanted to give his speech though," she told him, sighing.
"Her name's Luna," he informed her dutifully, his eyes roaming the area for the familiar blonde in a sea of red. He finally spotted them over by a tree on the outer edge of the Burrow. Luna was pointing up into the branches, looking excited while Ron simply grinned at her, shrugging his shoulders as she chattered on. "There they are," he said, pointing.
Molly turned, following his finger and then nodded. She turned back to him and Hermione and smiled, "Thank you," she said cheerfully and then made her way over to them, waving her hand and calling out his name. Harry chuckled as he saw Ron look over with an abashed expression and glance at Luna uncomfortably. For a split second, he wondered if maybe Ron would venture running off as if he hadn't heard his mother.
"D'you think he'll try escaping?" Hermione asked and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Sometimes, it really was like she could read his mind.
"Nah, she's too close now." Ron's shoulders slumped and he walked toward his mum dutifully. Luna followed him and Harry wondered what they were possibly talking about as she suddenly began a conversation with Molly. Ron was left on the outside, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he simply listened to his mum and the rather odd Luna Lovegood converse.
"They're a good match," Hermione murmured and Harry only then noticed that he was still holding her tight against him, though now she was moved to his side, her arm still around his back.
He looked at her in confusion. "Who?"
"Ron and Luna," she said matter-of-factly. "She's quite odd but she's very intelligent and she's liked him a long time. That and she's quite good at handling his mood swings."
"But I thought..." He trailed off, shaking his head, his brow furrowed. "Aren't you and Ron...?"
She shook her head, a small smile present on her mouth. "No. I made more than one mistake this year. Not only not trusting you, but thinking that Ron and I could possibly..." She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, how that would be a wrong match." She rested her head on his arm, looking up at him through her lashes. "Can you imagine the fights, Harry? I mean, we bicker enough as it is. But if we spent even more time around each other..." She scoffed, frowning up at him. "How could you ever allow me to think that was logical, Harry James?"
Harry smiled down at her, finding that he was a little more at ease now. He hadn't liked the idea of his two best friends becoming a couple and now that they were his heart didn't seem to be clenching as much as it had. He decided not to think on that reaction too much and instead answer her question. "You know that when you have your mind set on something it's nearly impossible to change it, Hermione Jane," he said, mocking her use of his first and middle names.
She sniffed, rolling her eyes to the side. "I'm rather thirsty. Maybe we can find a butterbeer inside that's not tainted."
Harry nodded, his eyes roaming the party area to find that most of the guests were either slumped in chairs and the grass, or dancing rather jerkily, as if they were a little tossed. He spotted Remus and Tonks, dancing in a secluded spot, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Tonks' head rested on Remus' chest and his chin was sitting comfortably on top of her hair. Harry's brow furrowed and he wondered for a moment why such an intimate display between two lovers like Remus and Tonks fit so easily with him and Hermione earlier. Before he had much time to ponder it, Hermione had tugged him inside and to the kitchen. She searched around in the ice box while Harry sat at the table, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers over the dips and chips in the tabletop. He could still hear the boisterous laughter from outside and see various people dancing around in the yard to the Weird Sisters. Ginny and Neville were awkwardly swaying, Neville's eyes more focused on his feet than the girl in front of him while Ginny seemed to be searching the area for someone. He squinted and could just barely make out Ron, Luna, and Molly still talking near the tree, Mrs. Weasley was making large gestures with her hands and Luna was nodding vigorously as Ron stared up at the sky with a confused expression on his face.
There was clink and Harry looked back to see a bottle of butterbeer in front of him. Hermione slid into the seat at the head of the table and sipped her bottle while her finger drew something on the table, which looked to be an Arithmancy problem if Harry's eyes served him right. Unscrewing the top of the bottle, Harry guzzled back the cold drink, the sweet flavor surrounding his taste buds and leaving him feeling relaxed. He heard Hermione chuckle and looked at her before catching her gaze settled out the window. Fred and George had the arms around each other and were doing a sloppy version of the can-can. He half-smiled, shaking his head. While the two of them were always good for a laugh, he couldn't help but remember how loyal and reliable they were, too. He sometimes wondered if maybe it would be smart to tell them about the Horcruxes and gain their knowledge on it also. They weren't lacking in the intelligence department, even Hermione admitted they were really quite brilliant. The Weasley twins were two of the best allies to have during any predicament. Brains, courage, loyalty and reliability. It was like packing the trio into two people who thought and looked the same. They were quite remarkable. He wondered how they would deal with it if they found out they were prophesied to destroy Voldemort. If it was just one of them, would they leave the other behind out of need to keep them safe? Or would they want them there with them through it all? He stared at them, watching how together they were. Trying to picture just one of them being more or less than the other, but the image wouldn't come.
"Some people just belong together," Hermione said, her voice quiet as if she were contemplating something deep. "I don't think one could survive without the other," she told him, shaking her head vigorously. "Fred and George are so much a part of each other that they couldn't really function separately."
Harry nodded. Was that how it was within the Trio? He glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eyes and found himself wondering. If Ron wasn't there, would they still be close? Would they still have moments where they could read each other like a book? Would the adventures still have turned out as they had? Would he have survived Voldemort? It was likely. Ron was essential to Harry being more friendly, more comfortable in his skin, more outgoing. But in living, in growing up in mentality and circumstance, Hermione was who kept him going. Without her brilliance and her friendship, he wasn't sure who he'd be. He certainly wouldn't be ready to defeat Voldemort, would he? Would he have even made it this far? He couldn't imagine going very far without her. Even without her intelligence and confidence in him, he still needed her there. She believed in him, gave him reason to believe he was worthy of friendship, family, and love. She was his emotion, disguised as his best friend. Like the twins, he couldn't function without her.
Hermione turned to him, her hand reaching out and taking his. "Don't focus so much on the bad, Harry. Otherwise you can't see the good that could come out of everything."
Harry nodded, but didn't reply. If Voldemort hadn't tried to kill him in first year with the troll, then Harry wouldn't have gotten closer to Hermione. Good from the bad. If he hadn't been picked as a champion in the Tri Wizard Championship, Harry wouldn't have known how deep Hermione's loyalty to him ran. If everything horrible hadn't happened over the years, Harry wouldn't have his two best friends there with him. He wouldn't have Hermione and Ron willing to stand beside him through a war against the darkest wizard of their time. He wouldn't be having this conversation with her, wouldn't have danced with her earlier that night, a moment where he felt more comfortable in his skin than he had in ages. So much would be different in his life. Would he even be close to the Weasleys? A family that basically adopted him into their close knit togetherness. There was so much darkness, so many moments that weren't really worth it, but he couldn't change that and for that moment, that day and that time, he was content with how it was. He could hear the twins belting out a slurred song, Mrs. Weasley was chastising Charlie for snogging a girl behind the shed, Mr. Weasley was telling Fleur a story about Bill when he was a little boy, and Harry could see Ron dancing with loony Lovegood. Hermione Granger was holding his hand, her thumb rubbing little circles against his skin. His butterbeer was chilling his palm and the air was humid, almost stifling. His shirt was a little tight at the throat and his feet were uncomfortable in his shoes. But for that night, there was no Voldemort or Dursleys. There were the Weasleys and Hermione, and he was happy with just that.
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley called out. "Harry, Hermione, dears, come on out, Ron's going to make his big speech," she told them cheerfully.
Harry smiled, standing up from his seat and tugging Hermione along behind them, not letting her hand go just yet. They stood on the outer edge, near Remus, Tonks, and Charlie who were talking about Ron's rather ruffled appearance. His shirt was hanging out from his pants, his hair was in disarray and one of his shoes seemed to be missing. But he was grinning excitedly and holding up a bottle of Firewhiskey that his mother soon replaced with a butterbeer. Ron briefly frowned at her but then began telling his speech about his great older brother Bill and his fetching wife Fleur. Hermione wrapped her free hand around Harry's arm and chuckled at the story Ron was telling. Harry's gaze fell from his best mate to watch Hermione's glowing smile. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a whole new adventure, but he was somehow reassured that with her there it wouldn't be as hard as it could without her. Cheers rang out as Ron finished and the family patted his back and chatted with Bill and Fleur over the nuptials.
When the hour grew late people began dissipating. Some went home, others conked out at the Burrow. Harry spotted the twins fast asleep, leaning against the house. Bill and Fleur had left for a fancy hotel they had booked. The Delacour family had long last left, going to their own Hotel suites and leaving the "'orrible" Weasleys alone. Charlie slipped out with the girl he had been snogging, and Ron fell asleep in one of the chairs near the refreshment stand. Harry found himself half-asleep on the couch, Hermione curled up in a ball beside him, her head pillowed by a balled up sweater she had put on when the night air became chilly. Harry watched the flickering flames of the fire, vaguely listening to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talk about how wonderful the wedding turned out as they put food away. He heard Molly giggle and glanced over to see Arthur twirling her around the kitchen, they were both blushing and grinning like lovesick teenagers. He wondered, were his parents alive, if they would be acting the same way if it were his own wedding. He could imagine his dad twirling his mum, her bright red hair flying around, her deep green eyes glittering out at him happily. He felt a tug at his heart and his smile began to melt.
Harry heard Hermione mumble something about "need more books" in her sleep and smiled down at her sleeping form. He pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and covered her with it. Sighing contently, Harry pulled himself up from the couch and trudged upstairs to find comfort in the bed he had made up in Ron's bedroom. His eyelids drooped and his shoulders fell a notch. He hadn't realized how tired he was. As soon as he found his bed, he slipped under the blanket and fell asleep. His dreams were full of thick brown hair, warm smiles, and the sweet flavor of butterbeer.
To be continued...
