Appearances

Appearances

Rating: G

Words: 3,122 (One shot)

Pairing: H/Hr

Summary: Things aren't always as they seem, and Harry doesn't have as much control of his emotions as he'd like.

Author's Note/Disclaimer: Anything you recognize obviously isn't mine. Some passages were taken directly from The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge. This will be the first of several fics that I'm going to post to PK (which have previously been hanging out on my LJ) so that most of my fics will be in the same place. This fic is two years old and was originally for the lovely Annearchy.

~ * ~

`This part of my life is over,' Hermione thought, as stately Hogwarts Castle slid from sight behind the sharp lines of a mountain.

Just moments ago, she'd stood on Hogsmeade Platform, embracing Viktor Krum. He had come from Bulgaria, at Dumbledore's invitation, to join the Order. They had struck up an easy friendship again and soon it was as though there'd not been two years of absence between them. Viktor had proven himself so well during the Last Battle that he was now a hero to the Wizarding World for something other than his Quidditch prowess.

Viktor's arms had lingered around her just as hers had around him. Both had wiped away tears after their goodbyes, unsure when they would next see each other. Many foreign members of the Order were still at Hogwarts, where the battle with Voldemort had been fought just weeks ago. Viktor would be leaving for his Bulgarian home tomorrow and was looking forward to seeing his family and friends.

Hermione turned and studied the others in her compartment. Luna, Neville, and Ginny were talking quietly, but Harry and Ron were watching out the window as though trying to memorize the scenery flashing by. Both of their faces were filled with something that was part excitement, part forlornness, and just a little worry. Harry had been pensive since they boarded the train and seemed overtaken by his thoughts.

Hermione understood. She felt all that as well.

Hermione settled back in her seat but her gaze stayed on Harry. He had been especially quiet in the past few weeks since he had defeated Voldemort and Hermione was more than a bit worried. She'd noticed a strange coolness emanating from him at times and…some sort of sadness, for lack of a better word. At times, Harry had even appeared to be frustrated--almost angry, and for some reason, those feelings seemed connected with her in some way.

This had confused and hurt Hermione to no end, but every time she'd tried to draw him aside to speak with him, she'd been rebuffed. Viktor had understood how she felt, and consoled her several times. He'd advised her to be patient. Harry would be ready to talk to her at some point; Viktor had assured her as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Hermione hoped that time would come very soon. Her heart couldn't take much more of this from Harry.

The six friends were all on their way to Hermione's home. Hermione had learned at Christmastime that her parents would be attending a dentistry conference during the week that Hermione would return home for the summer. She'd been disappointed that they wouldn't be there to welcome her, or attend her leaving ceremony at Hogwarts. Truth be told, it had soundly hurt her feelings.

Hermione knew that she'd not been able to spend holiday time with her parents as they would have liked, but she'd been needed elsewhere. She knew that it had been hard for her parents to understand, and she was aware that she'd hurt their feelings several times, too. Having to make choices between her family and the Wizarding World had been very difficult these past few years, and she had never been completely sure that she'd chosen well.

Hermione had felt more than a little depressed in the last weeks of school at the thought of going to her house by herself from King's Cross. After one particularly difficult day of rejection from Harry, she'd blurted this information in the Great Hall at dinner, much to her chagrin.

“Don't worry, love, we'd be happy to come home with you, if it's all right,” Ginny had said, looking around at the others, who nodded in quick agreement. “You don't have to stay the week by yourself.”

Hermione had promptly burst into tears.

~*~

The group of friends had travelled from the station by taxi to Hermione's home, gotten themselves settled in, and then lazed about for the remainder of the evening. They mostly watched the telly and munched on some cheese and fruit that Hermione's parents had left for them. Ron, captivated by the remote, had amused himself by repeatedly changing the channels until the others protested.

The telly finally settled on a channel that was carrying the movie Roman Holiday, and the group enjoyed the madcap adventures of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. Everyone seemed to relax almost completely for the first time in months. It was as though they were all starting to remember who they were before all the stress of the past year. It was sweet to see Neville slide his hand into Ginny's and then her happy smile to him in return. Luna leaned against Ron and ended up with her head on his shoulder until he doubled over in laughter at a scene in which the lead characters were involved in a fight at a party.

Harry sat next to Hermione, but there was a distance between them that wasn't just physical and it began to irk her. What in the world had she done to deserve this treatment from Harry? Why couldn't they be like the other couples who had finally realised their feelings? Or maybe Harry didn't feel that way at all… Her heart sank at that thought.

After a while, Hermione, restless, wandered away from the group. She began walking from room to room, spending time with cherished things that she hadn't seen for months, and finally ended up in her parents' study. Her favourite room. She ran her hands over the books on the shelves and then over her mother's writing desk. She paused for a moment, and reached for a framed picture on her father's desk. As she stared at her parents' smiling faces, the tears that had threatened all day welled over their bounds.

When Hermione had received her Hogwarts letter, she'd been so happy. Ecstatic, actually. Finally, she had an answer to the mystery of her strange abilities that had cropped up at the most unexpected times. Her parents had been relieved and excited for her. At least, they had the first several years of her schooling. Slowly, but surely, that excitement had waned into wariness of anything to do with magic or “Your Other World”, as they had taken to calling it.

Hermione knew that her leaving Hogwarts would necessitate more choices. She was pretty sure that she would continue to live most of her life as a witch. Hermione understood how hard it would be for her parents to now have to come up with more lies when talking to their friends about their daughter's profession. Seven years ago, none of them had realized the repercussions of Hermione's magical talent, and the separation that would occur. It didn't help that she felt so separated from her best friend right now, too. Hermione mopped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Moments later she heard quiet footsteps and strong arms surrounded her as comforting words were murmured.

She turned and buried her face in Harry's shoulder and, after a bit, he guided her to the small couch on the other side of the room. Hermione didn't know how long they sat together, she in his arms and he in hers, but she knew that in some way, he was trying to express regret for his behaviour in the past few weeks as he comforted her. Finally, she drew back just a bit to look into his face.

“What's going on?” Harry asked, his gaze concerned, but oddly guarded.

Hermione wiped her tears again and tried to explain about the schism widening between her and her parents.

After she had finished, Harry looked at her with a sad smile, then whispered, “You'll work things out and, even if you don't, you know your friends will be around. You won't ever have to be alone.”

Hermione nodded and managed a small smile in return. “Neither will you.”

He smiled back, his eyes bright, and squeezed her hand gently. “I know. I think I finally realised that this year after…everything.”

“Things could be so different now.” Hermione suppressed a shiver at what could have happened in the final battle and continued, “I'm so glad I have you.” She hugged Harry again, but was surprised when he pulled away quickly.

“So,” Harry began, seeming oddly nervous. “What have you decided to do now that we're finished with school?”

Hermione fingered the hem of her blouse. “I'm not really sure.” She paused, her forehead furrowing, then went on, “I've several things that I need to consider, I guess.”

Harry's expression became inscrutable, making Hermione feel uneasy, but she asked, “Are you still planning on attending the Auror Academy?”

Harry nodded. “It begins in September. I'm going to look for a flat this week in London, if I have time.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, pleased. “It'll be nice to have you near.”

Harry shrugged, but agreed, “Yeah…near.” He seemed to have reverted to the Harry of the past few weeks, the Harry that had confused her with his aloofness.

Hermione sighed and decided that she'd had enough of his strange behaviour for today. “Well, I'm really tired,” she said. “I'm going to bed.”

Harry looked a bit surprised at this and Hermione wondered if the look that appeared briefly in Harry's eyes was disappointment. If it was, he covered it well, and said, “Have a good night, then.”

“You, too.”

~ * ~

The next morning, most everyone slept late, tired from yesterday's journey. They straggled into the kitchen one by one and helped themselves to some breakfast. Showers were had, and once everyone was dressed, they all met in the sitting room.

The friends walked to the nearest tube stop and took the underground into the heart of London. They window shopped, made a few purchases, and had lunch at a small bistro. The afternoon was spent in much the same way as the morning, but they used some of their time buying food to make for dinner, and then headed back to Hermione's.

The group had fun cooking together, making pasta and salad, as well as heating garlic bread. At the end of the night, they all went to bed tired, but happy. It was the best day Hermione had spent in a long while and she was grateful.

They all decided to help Harry look for a flat the next day. They had marked several advertisements in the paper and set out to see the places offered. After touring a few, Harry finally found a small, but sunny, flat just a few blocks south of Kensington High Street.

“This is lovely,” Hermione said as she admired the colorful back garden through the uncommonly large window in the sitting room. “Are you sure it's large enough, though?”

Harry shrugged. “Why wouldn't it be? I'll be the only one here, and I've been used to a dormitory the last seven years.”

“This'll seem like a manor house compared to that,” Ron chuckled.

“It's going to be really odd, isn't it, being alone after sharing a room with four other blokes for so long?” Neville asked. “You'll have a lot of time on your hands, won't you? What will you do with yourself?” he finished on a chuckle.

“Yes, well… We'd better be getting home,” Harry said abruptly, and turned for the door, leaving five people to watch his retreating back in surprise.

They stayed in the next day, and that afternoon, Hermione decided it was time to unpack her trunk and sort through her closet, knowing that she would likely be moving out in the coming months. Ginny and Luna offered to help her, and she gladly accepted. The girls had fun trying on some of Hermione's old clothes while deciding which to discard and which to keep.

Later in the afternoon, Hermione stood on a small stepladder, taking items off the top shelf and handing them to Ginny and Luna. Reaching as far back into the closet as she could, Hermione's hands found a long silver box, sealed on all sides. Her mum's wedding dress.

Before Hermione knew it, she had pulled the box down, undone the thick tape, and lifted the dress from the protective tissue.

Its satiny whiteness shone like the moon.

With a gasp of delight, Luna encouraged her to try it on, saying that Hermione might want to wear it on her wedding day. With a wistful look, Ginny added to Luna's request.

After a moment's hesitation, Hermione shed her top, shorts, and trainers. Luna and Ginny held the dress on either side as she stepped into it, and then fastened the buttons and hooks for her.

It fit almost perfectly.

Hermione studied herself in the long mirror, and the realization of how much she favoured her mother flowed through her mind like a warm ribbon of sunshine. She smiled, glad to have this connection with her mum. She unconsciously reached her hand to gather her hair up from her face into a more becoming style and admired the effect as she imagined herself walking down the aisle on her father's arm to meet—

Hermione was brought from her reverie by a soft noise from the doorway.

Harry stood in the frame, his appreciation of her appearance evident in his smile. But then something else slid into his expression—something that Hermione couldn't quite read.

“That's a pretty dress,” he managed as the colour drained from his face. “It--it looks like a wedding dress.”

“Thank you, and it is a wedding dress,” Hermione answered, lowering her hand from her hair a bit embarrassedly. “It was my mother's. I'm trying it on to see if it fits.”

“Are you going to be married?” Harry asked sharply, his stance becoming tense.

“Of course,” Hermione answered with a small laugh, turning to the box to lift out the veil. “You don't expect me to be an old maid, do you?”

“Are you going to be married soon?” Harry asked, still more sharply, advancing a few steps into the room.

Ginny and Luna exchanged a startled glance and Ginny answered for Hermione, who was caught up straightening the gossamer material attached to the veil's tiara.

“I don't think Hermione's going to be married very soon,” Ginny said, her eyebrows rising at Harry's tone of voice.

Two fiery spots bloomed on Harry's cheeks. “When you do marry, Hermione, who will you marry?”

Hermione turned around, thrown by this question, and began to notice Harry's narrowed eyes and balled fists. Her cheeks flushed as her gaze dropped to the floor.

“I'd always hoped that I would marry the boy that I realised I loved in our fourth year.” Hermione answered quietly.

“What!” Harry growled as Hermione's eyes snapped up to his. “Marry some hook-nosed, pigeon-toed, grouchy git, who can't even say your name properly?”

Hermione stayed silently watching Harry, who stood before her, breathing raggedly. His normally messy hair seemed to be even wilder than usual, and he began to prowl back and forth as though he was so agitated, he couldn't stand still. Hermione remained rooted to her spot, watching him in a kind of fearful fascination. When he finally turned to her and spoke again, his face was scarlet, his voice full of rage and frustration.

“Hermione, if you marry that Bulgarian, I'll hex him into the next century!”

“Harry!” Ginny began with wide eyes, but Luna put a hand on her arm, silencing her, and the two quickly left the room.

After she heard the door click shut, Hermione said quietly, “You haven't lost your temper with me like this in quite some time.”

“You haven't driven me to it in quite some time.”

They stood regarding each other warily, Harry's chest rising and falling heavily with every breath, his nostrils flaring.

“Why don't you want me to marry Viktor?” Hermione asked softly.

Harry stalked toward her, the floor vibrating under Hermione's feet with each of his steps.

“Because you are going to marry me,” he asserted, red faced, stopping just in front of her. “Do you hear, Hermione? You are going to marry me!”

Hermione's gaze dropped to her shaky hands, which were now nervously smoothing the creases in her skirt, but she made no reply.

“Hermione,” Harry nearly shouted, and he grabbed at her hands to still them. “I didn't win my future from Voldemort just to have it be empty because you'd gone off and married some other man.”

Just then the door to the bedroom opened with a crash and Ron and Neville sped through the opening with Luna and Ginny hot on their heels.

“What is going on here?” Ron demanded. “Why are you yelling at Hermione?”

“Keep out of this, Ron,” Harry snarled.

“And why are you in that wedding dress?” Ron asked Hermione, ignoring Harry's growl of frustration.

“She thinks she's going to marry Krum!” Harry raged. “But she's not!”

Neville's and Ron's eyes widened and both girls gasped.

“What do you mean?” Ron ventured, his gaze switching to Hermione then back to Harry.

“I mean, she's going to marry me!” Harry answered vehemently.

“Harry, that's no way to ask Hermione to marry you!” Ginny huffed as she put her hands on her hips.

“It could hardly be called asking,” Hermione interjected dryly.

Harry's eyes snapped to hers.

“You can stop roaring at me, Harry,” Hermione continued, levelling her eyes on his. “You can stop roaring at me, because for the sake of peace and quiet, I have suddenly made up my mind to marry you.”

Harry's expression changed instantly from one of extreme frustration to relief. His hair seemed to lie down a bit, and the red tinge receded from his cheeks.

“That's all right, then,” he said, releasing a great breath of air. “That's settled…” He looked ready to collapse.

The other four stood in place, agog at what they had just witnessed.

“Well,” Ron spoke up, breaking the silence, “is anyone ready for dinner?”

The group gave a nervous chuckle and the boys filed out so that Ginny and Luna could help Hermione out of the wedding dress. After the gown was properly stowed away, the girls walked into the hall and found Harry waiting just outside the bedroom door, looking uncomfortable. Luna and Ginny exchanged a look and hurried downstairs.

“Hermione… I'm sorry,” Harry began, not quite meeting her eyes. “I shouldn't have yelled at you like that—I'm not sure what came over me. If you want to marry Viktor, you should marry him.”

“I don't want to marry Viktor,” Hermione shook her head, confused.

“But…but you said you'd been in love with him since our fourth year,” Harry said dejectedly.

“I did not say that.” Hermione's lips curved in sudden understanding. “I said I wanted to marry the boy I'd realised I loved during our fourth year… That boy was you.”

“Really?” Harry asked lifting his eyes to look at her, a look of hope growing steadily on his face.

“Really,” Hermione whispered happily, stepping closer to him.

“I'm sorry I didn't ask you properly before,” Harry said, his voice gentle now as he took her hand in his. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

“I'd like nothing better than to marry you,” she answered and felt so full of happiness, she wondered if she might float from the floor.

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione. After a moment, he leaned back a bit, looked into her eyes, and then pressed his lips tenderly to hers. Hermione kissed him back and when they separated moments later, both wore identical grins.

“I guess I'll be needing a larger flat after all,” Harry chuckled.

“Hmm… I don't know. Smaller might be nicely cosy,” Hermione returned, reaching for his hands. “Might mean more togetherness.”

“I like the idea of togetherness,” Harry smiled, pulling her into his arms again. “Definitely.”

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