In Her Touch
Hello all,
This is another one of those concepts that has taken root in my brain and will not release me until it has had its say. This particular piece is told from Ron's perspective and chronicles a realization he makes following a brief exchange between Harry and Hermione. This is an extreme departure from my usual but as I said it just would not let me go. I am not sure if this will remain a one-shot or if there will be other points of view forthcoming I suppose I will see how the muse feels about this bit of drabble before I move on to anything else. Reviews will be greatly appreciated. Happy Reading... Searcy.
In Her Touch
It happened at one of our Sunday dinners. Since the end of the war we are all much more closely knit than we had been before. It seems that it just makes sense to keep those you love closest, to spend time with them and to recognize the importance of their presence in your life. Mum has taken to having these grand Sunday dinners where each and every member of the family blood related and extended are expected to be in attendance. We kick up a fuss about having to forego other things to appease her motherly wants but it's all just a show. No one really minds her insistence that we be there, we are all more than happy to oblige. The horrors of a war and the desolation it leaves in its wake are all still fresh in each of our minds. We happily make the trek to the Burrow once a week for a laugh and to enjoy each other's company.
This particular Sunday we weren't at the Burrow; mum and dad were on holiday in France with Bill, Fleur and Victoire thus the festivities had been moved to Grimmald Place. Ginny was away at school and Charlie was off in Romania. But that didn't mean that we were at a loss for people to fill out the seats around the table. In addition to Harry, Hermione, Percy, George and me, our old housemates Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom had dropped in. As had Audrey Thewlis, Percy's new girlfriend and Hannah Abbott, whose appearance on Neville's arm had caused more than a few raised eyebrows.
Dinner had been an enjoyable affair. We reminisced over old times and updated each other on the latest happenings in our lives. We were all sitting around the table nursing our butterbeers and glasses of meade and fire whiskey, having a grand laugh over George's account of Lee's most recent run-in with Verity down at the shop when Hermione rose from her seat and with a wave of her hand began clearing the table. Audrey, Angelina and Hannah all made a move as if to get up and give her a hand with the washing up. Hermione waved them off with a smile. Kreacher was quite particular about his kitchen and as such Hermione was one of the few people allowed to putter around it. It happened as she walked past Harry's chair. Hermione raised her hand and lightly combed her fingers through Harry's hair. Harry's eyes drifted closed as he tilted his head back slightly to prolong the contact, a serene smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Hermione caught sight of Harry's smile and she smiled in return; a beautiful, soft, loving smile that lit her eyes with a glow of happiness.
The whole exchange transpired in a matter of seconds. I doubt anyone other than me even saw it happen, it truly was the most innocent of gestures. But something about it was so intimate I felt as though I were intruding on a private moment. It's no secret that I've had my issues in the past where Harry and Hermione are concerned. My fears about Hermione desiring more than just friendship from Harry are well documented. I've discussed my fears with both of them and been told in no uncertain terms that said fears are ungrounded. I do not doubt for one second the honesty in their statements to me. And I am equally sure that anyone else seeing their brief interaction would not have noticed or thought it odd in the least. But I'm not just anyone, not just some bloke off the street, I'm the one person who knows them best, the one person who knows all of their finely detailed nuances, the one person who understands them better than anyone.
Harry and I have been best friends since the moment we stepped onto the Hogwarts Express at the age of eleven. Of all the people who know him I'd have to say I know him better than most. And it is that knowledge of him that gave me pause when I saw his reaction to Hermione's touch. In all my years of knowing Harry I have never seen him at such peace, so tranquil, so unutterably content as he appeared in the moment that Hermione's hand brushed his hair. And then there is the matter of Hermione, my other best friend, the woman that I love. In the time since the war has ended I have become intimately acquainted with her expressions, her gestures and in what the light in her eyes is attempting to express. I've held her, kissed her, touched her in a million ways; and never once have any of those actions elicited the warm and loving light that shone in her eyes from seeing Harry's smile.
That single gesture, those few infinitesimal seconds reordered my whole world. I do not doubt for one second the honesty in Harry's words when he told me that Hermione is like a sister to him. Nor do I question the genuineness of Hermione's love for me. In all honesty, knowing them as I do I doubt they are aware of the truer, deeper nature of the implications behind that single gesture. I wonder if they will ever come to that realization, and if they do how will I manage to carry on.
A/N: Now that this is done I am considering this a work in progress. It is definitely in need of something more. Any and all suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
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