[First and foremost, I'd like to dedicate this to MyForeverHarry, whose kind words are at least half the reason I find myself coming back to the Portkey every so often. What you'll read below is something a tad different from what I normally write, mainly in the writing style, but I hope you like it nonetheless. It's been awhile since I've played with these characters, so I fear I'm terribly rusty. :)
Secondly, I'll just say that this takes place after Harry as defeated Voldemort. I'm ignoring the entirety of Deathly Hallows, mainly because I really don't feel like reading it again. Can you blame me?
And, lastly, please read and review! And thanks to all of my friends here at Portkey - I don't know how much longer I'll be posting here, but I hope you'll continue to read as long as I do.
Breathe
by: Azure
She finds him standing in the sun.
He is standing tall on the Quidditch Pitch, arms crossed behind his head, looking as if he doesn't have the slightest clue of what to do with his broad smile. He is standing quietly, the whisper of his breath stolen away by the wind, and he is standing alone, one dark speck against that thin line where the green of the pitch gives way to the brilliant blue sky.
She found him first. This is not surprising. She is Hermione Granger, and this is what Hermione Granger does: she finds Harry when he needs her. She sighs and sets her book aside, checking only to see that she has bookmarked her page, and then she goes to him.
This is how things work.
Harry's smile is a pleasant twist, however. This is a deviation from a darker norm, and she isn't entirely sure how to approach this. She smiles at the thought. Much has changed in this last month, and even Hermione Granger doesn't quite know what to make of it all.
And so she waits. She moves to sit beside him, looking too up into the remarkable blue, and waits very patiently for him to speak.
She doesn't wait long.
"I'm not sure what to think," he says lightly, without looking at her. He's smiling, still, a shining smile that's almost as bright as the sun. "Everything changed."
"For the better," she says, with a smile to match.
"For the better," he says, and one hand scratches lazily at the back of his head. "It's kind of weird, still. I don't think it's really hit yet."
I don't know when it will, she thinks. And that's fine - I'll find you when it does.
The right side of his mouth quirks upward. "I can hear you thinking even from up here." He seems completely unsurprised.
She wraps a small hand around his leg and tugs, pulling the black robes towards her. "Sit down, then. That's hardly fair." She tugs again and suddenly he comes tumbling down - and she shrieks and laughs and quickly lets go, dodging smartly to the side so as to not be taken down with him.
He's laying beside her, then, arms still crossed behind his head, but his eyes - those beautiful green things - are suddenly on her. His smile continues to blind her.
"Everything changed. What the hell am I supposed to do?" The humor in his voice doesn't seem overly troubled by the question. "I've been thinking about this for a week now. What am I going to do?"
"Well, you'll likely think about it for another week," she says, very sincerely. "Then you'll disappear once again, and I'll have to set down my book - a very good book, mind you - to find you standing next to the lake."
Silence.
And then he begins to laugh, the sound of it reaching out to her across the warm wind. His shoulders relax and his chest shakes and suddenly this is Harry - this is Harry, she thinks, this is someone she hasn't really seen in such a long time, and she has to move quickly to brush the tears from her eyes.
"A week? And why the lake?" He's chuckling still, but his eyes are wide and curious and green.
"You'll be saying goodbye," she says. "To the squid, to the lake - to the school, I suppose, once you've realized the world is waiting for you." She holds his gaze all the while, not in the slightest bit surprised to find that one of his hands is firmly clasped in her own.
"Yeah," he says, at length. "It is, isn't it?" His smile is unchanged.
"It is."
"A year ago, I think I would have called you a liar," he says, his hand gripping hers just a tiny bit tighter. "A year ago, I don't think I would have expected to be here now."
It occurs to her much too late that she's crying again. This time, though, she simply closes her eyes, letting the sun guide the tears down her cheeks.
He's still talking. "But everything changed. I'm here, now, and only one question remains: what am I going to do now?" He chuckles again. "I've got a week, though, to figure it out." There's a slight pause. "And I've got you."
It occurs to her that she's no longer holding his hand at the exact moment she feels his fingers touch lightly on her face. Her eyes fly open and then she sees him - she sees this new Harry, this new mix of black and green and happy so close to her face, and she feels his warm lips touch so softly against the one last tear on her cheek.
Her stomach is rolling and diving and then suddenly he's gone, leaning back and hoisting himself to his feet. Her cheeks burn a raging red and she reaches out to him and she realizes, belatedly, that she has completely forgotten how to breathe.
"See you in a week, then," he says, and with that broad smile he leaves her sitting in the sun.
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