In Her Touch
Oblivious
I'm sitting here at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron nursing a pint, listening to my best mate describe the dreadful hour and a half he'd spent on his so called date with Charlotte Griffiths. At present he's going on about what a shallow chit she was; how she kept trying to draw attention to the fact that she was out with him. Of course she wanted the whole sodding world to know that she was out with the Harry Potter. I'm actually surprised that their picture wasn't splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet or worse yet Witch Weekly. That seems the type of thing that Charlotte would do. I warn him that an exposé on the date that never really happened may be in the next issue of the paper. That elicits a grimace. As he sips his drink I tell him that since the moment that it had become public knowledge that he and Ginny'd called things off every witch from fourteen to four hundred and fifty had been chomping at the bit to have a go at him. The grimace turns into an out and out frown as he downs a mouthful of his drink.
I can tell from the expression on his face that he's mulling over that bit of information. I take the opportunity to ask why he had asked Charlotte out in the first place. I tell him that she really doesn't seem like the type of girl that he would go for. He shrugs and replies that after I'd suggested he give dating a try Charlotte had invited him out and being that she had seemed nice enough he had gone ahead and asked her out for that Friday. I tell him that he should have asked around about her to see what kind of bird she was. That comment gets another frown directed towards me as he takes another swig of his drink. Gradually his expression loses its air of irritation and settles into one of contemplation. We sit in silence for awhile before he mutters, almost to himself, "How's a bloke supposed to find someone he can build a life with when every woman he meets is after a bloody persona". We lapse into silence yet again.
Normally Harry isn't all that chatty about things like this. It's never been the type of thing we've discussed. This sort of thing is usually Hermione's domain. But she isn't here and as this may be my only chance to say what needs saying I ask Harry if that's what he's looking for. I ask him if he's looking for someone to build a life with. He answers without hesitation with a question of his own. "Isn't that what we all want; someone who loves us and understand us, protects us if need be and who is there for us when we need them. Someone who we can love, understand, protect and be there for in return".
I absorb that information. Never had I heard a more accurate description of what Hermione was to Harry than that. I weighed my words carefully before telling Harry that women like what he'd just described were few and far between. Harry nods his agreement. He then wondered aloud whether such a woman even existed. He cast a glance around the room. I laughed a bit before saying that while she wasn't sitting around the pub she did exist and she was much closer than he imagined. Harry stared at me quizzically. He'd caught on to the fact that I was referring to someone specific and was about to ask me who I was talking about when the door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and Hermione walked in. A wry smile quirked my lips as I realized that even the gods thought those two were meant to be. I refocused my gaze on Harry and nodding towards the door, I informed him that I had been wrong about his dream girl hanging out in pubs. Harry turned around and upon seeing Hermione heading towards us with my words still fresh in his head; he dropped his pint.
A/N: Well, how's that for redemption?
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