Sequel to "What's In A Name?", a drabble of mine posted at my LiveJournal. You must read it before reading this, just so you can understand it better, especially since there's a fragment of this story that takes place right after the end of the drabble. It won't take you long, the drabble is only 200 words long.
Also, I chose to ignore that tiny little bit of DH where Snape dies, `cause I needed him for this. So, that makes this story sort of an AU.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter (c) JKR. Plot (c) Me.
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"A Matter of Names"
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Part I
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The sound of Snape's voice is just another noise in the background of her mind, along with the incessant sound of quills scratching paper. And, under normal circumstances, she would have snapped out of her silly trance, but she can't, not right now. She just can't.
For the first time in her life, she has suppressed her workaholic side long enough for her mind to wander, and wander. Long enough for her to realize, albeit briefly, it's been a week since she actually paid any attention to her classes. A week since her whole focus is solely on it-and therefore, on him.
Bloody hell, Hermione, it's only a name…
But, it really isn't only a name, it is his name, and that makes all the difference.
It's all Lavender's fault, she decides. Lavender and that bloody chat about last names. That bloody topic started it all-the wondering, the distraction. Just to think about what name -his or his- would suit her better has been enough to make her forget about the upcoming N.E.W.T.s and her study schedule and her duties as Head Girl, everything. It's been bloody obsessive.
Snape's voice booms across the dungeon, but Hermione barely registers the sound, she keeps on scribbling. She doesn't know what her hand is writing with such vehemence, never pausing; she doesn't care really, her mind is too preoccupied to do so.
And let's not forget their talk about boys.
Ah, yes, their talk about boys. How could she forget about it? That is another reason for her absentmindedness. The main reason for her to wonder about him and his name.
She supposes she should be grateful that it happened, but she's not. Not entirely.
Black, messy hair. Green eyes. Seeker and bespectacled. Shy, sweet and a little naive… What, in the name of Merlin, possessed me to say that?
Actually, she hadn't meant to be so honest anyway, she had prepared herself to ignore Lavender's question -because she knows it was Lavender who asked her that- and keep looking at nothing in particular, or maybe even lie, but…
But.
His eyes had enraptured her; his beautiful, green eyes, sparkling with amusement at whatever it was the boys were talking about. She remembers thinking, briefly, how much she loved those eyes. And that's when it happened; her epiphany. And she understood everything then-why she preferred his name over his. It had been all so simple then, and that prompted her to be completely honest when answering.
Unfortunately, her admission had put an enormous dent in her relationship with Ginny…
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They smiled at each other until someone drew his attention away from her. She watched him laugh at something Ron said, probably something only a man would laugh at, and she couldn't help the tenderness that swept over her then. Nor could she help the myriad of random thoughts that invaded her mind.
Merlin, I love his smile. And the way he laughs, so carefree now. He certainly filled out nicely this past two years. Oh, I love those eyes. Is it a crime to want to run my tongue over his scar? He can be so endearing when he's trying to cheer me up. What would it feel like to run my fingertips over his chest, his back? He surely is sexy when he plays Quidditch. His hair is so… I wish he would snog me senseless when I'm being bossy. Oh, I love the way he looks on his Quidditch robes, those form-fitting trousers... Oh, Harry-
A sudden screech broke through her daydreaming, and she looked away from Harry, turning towards the girls. Only then, she realized the uncomfortable silence surrounding their table, and the tension building up. Her only response was to arch an eyebrow.
"Black hair?"
"Green eyes?"
"Seeker?"
"Hermione, that's-"
Hermione watched as Lavender and Parvati tried to make sense of what she just said, while she tried to find an explanation to her sudden epiphany.
"Harry," Ginny said, coldly.
She looked at her from across the table, and met her equally cold gaze. Ginny looked ready to jump at her and start a catfight. She mentally snorted. Wouldn't that be a sight?
"You. Fancy. Harry," she bit out, standing up quickly.
Hermione stood up as well, but unlike Ginny, she was calm, eerily calm.
"I. Love. Harry."
There was a collective gasp in the table, and it was a wonder how they hadn't attracted someone's attention yet.
Hermione blinked a few times, letting the true meaning of her words wash over her.
Sweet Merlin…
"I am in love with Harry."
Hermione wanted to laugh, but didn't. It was just… It had been all so simple, her confession. It felt too natural to be an epiphany, actually. Maybe it was only a known fact she was only voicing just now. Maybe she'd always been in love with him, but that love had developed so gradually that it was just as part of her as her bookishness was, and had realized just now.
Maybe Ron was right, and it had always been Harry.
Just then, the boys walked over their table.
"Hey, we're going back to the castle. Are you girls done gossiping?" Dean said, but got no answer.
"Is something wrong?"
She almost snorted aloud. Trust Ron to state the obvious.
Ginny scowled at her, and then stormed off the scene, leaving the boys with shocked and confused expressions. Lavender and Parvati seemed about to burst, ready to spill what happened, but in the end, they didn't.
Harry looked at her, lifting an eyebrow in question, but she just shook her head.
Well, what a fantastic way to finish a lovely day.
The following days were a pain whenever Ginny was around. She couldn't stop glaring or scowling at her, but Hermione ignored her diplomatically. What was she so upset about, anyway? Harry had made it clear at the beginning of the year that he wasn't interested in getting back together with her. So, as far as everyone knew, Harry was single, available, and she had every right to fancy him if she wanted.
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…It's been a week, and Lavender and Parvati have yet to tell a word about the incident. Ron's still oblivious to his sister's anger, as well as the rest of the school. And Ginny is still being an immature brat.
Harry, on the other hand, is worried about them, and that's the hardest thing to ignore. Sometimes, Hermione thinks about telling him everything; the talk about last names, the last name she chose for herself, the talk about boys and the answer to that bloody question… her confession. But in the end, she is never brave enough to do it. But that's alright, she doesn't think she'll be able to handle his rejection.
You are going to be the death of me, Harry Potter…
Snape's voice booms across the dungeon again, and this time, Hermione starts to pay attention to her scribbling, yet ignores the lecture.
Blimey…
Written messily on her scroll is the source of all her problems: last names.
[Hermione Jane Weasley. Ginevra Molly Potter.
Mrs. Hermione Weasley. Mrs. Ginny Potter.
Not right.
Ginny Malfoy/Longbottom/Thomas/random name?
Could be.
H. J. P.
Hermione Jane Potter.
It's right. It's perfect.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.]
Hermione stares at the names, and suddenly she sees why her admission had been so upsetting to Ginny.
Ginny Potter, of course…
The fact that some other girl fancies Harry it's not what bothers Ginny, it's the fact that she, Hermione, fancies him-loves him, actually, what bothers her. And the ever present possibility of Harry fancying her as well -maybe even love her?- makes it all worse. Ginny has been relying so much on she and Ron getting together, that she hasn't stopped to think of a way to get Harry back. Everyone's still so sure she and Ron are destined to be together, that they can't see it's not going to happen. (Sure, they shared a kiss, so what? It's not like it was an extraordinary kiss anyway, she didn't feel anything, no matter how much she forced herself to feel something, however small, there was nothing. And she's positive Ron felt nothing as well, he just doesn't want to accept it, still convinced that they were destined to be, but there must be some common sense in him after all, for he hasn't even hinted at her he wanted them to be together like that.)
She has ruined Ginny's plan; her idea of a big happy family. Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Obviously, without Ron and Hermione, the chances of Harry and Ginny are very slim, especially with how their relationship is as of now.
One Big Happy Family… More like One Big Happy Weasley Family.
Well, too bad for Ginny. She isn't about to marry Ron just because everyone expected her to.
Hermione gripped her quill tightly, before consciously writing down one last sentence on the scroll.
[I am Mrs. Harry Potter.]
Suddenly, her breath catches in her throat, as a warm feeling envelops her. A firm, well toned, and extremely familiar body presses to her side, and a breath collides with the side of her neck, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. She becomes acutely aware of him, and everything else (Snape's angry voice, the murmurs of her classmates) fades in the background.
"Hermione-" he whispers in her ears, but halts his sentence suddenly.
She inhales deeply, and marvels at his unique scent. A mix of fresh air, and Quidditch robes, and the cupboard under the stairs, and freedom, and something spicy that's so very Harry… She closes her eyes and enjoys the sensation assaulting her body.
He smells like magic…
"I am Mrs. Harry Potter…"
The sound of his voice whispering that sentence is enough to snap her out of her musing.
Oh, bloody hell…
Their eyes meet, and it feels like that night at the Three Broomsticks all over again. Hermione can feel the fear crawling up her mind and, for once, she doesn't know what he's thinking.
Harry grabs her hand, looking as serious as ever, and opens his mouth to talk. But a loud slam! makes them jump apart, and they collide with those sitting at the other side of them. And Hermione has the sudden urge to crawl under the table and stay there.
"I see…"
Snape's voice finally registers in her brain, and her eyes widen in horror when she notices he's reading her scroll. She doesn't know what's worse; Snape finding out her deepest secret in the middle of a class where half of the students are Slytherins, or the look on Harry's face as he watches her intently.
"Detention, both of you," said Snape, dropping the scroll in front of her and stalking away. "Oh, and ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."
The rest of the lecture passes in a blur, and though normally Hermione would enjoy some time alone with Harry, she isn't looking forward to spend detention with him.
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Harry keeps stealing glances at her as she sweeps the floor at the other end of the dungeon that is Snape's classroom. She has half her side done, while he hasn't even started.
It's just… well, he can't concentrate on his task. But after seeing, in Hermione's for-once-not-so-neat handwriting, `I am Mrs. Harry Potter' written down as if it is the most natural thing in the world, how could he possibly focus on something other than her?
Ginny had cornered him yesterday and had flat out asked him whom he liked better as a girlfriend; Hermione or herself. After sending a quick thanks to the Dursleys for not letting him show any feeling aside from misery and anger, he had managed to answer her without giving away anything of what he felt. He had to lie of course, just to salvage his friendship with the youngest Weasley, about how he really felt about Hermione.
Well, I didn't exactly lie, I just didn't tell her the whole truth. I really don't know who'd be a better girlfriend, I've never dated Hermione.
And his guilt had started to eat him up, until she told him what had transpired at the Three Broomsticks last week, and he felt guilty no more. Again, he had to thank the Dursleys for being able to maintain his blank expression, even though he had been practically bursting with joy.
"She fancies you, Harry. She's supposed to be with my brother, and she fancies you."
At the mention of Ron, Harry had felt as if someone had put a damp cloth over his happiness, though it hadn't been enough to deflate him. He had spent the rest of yesterday's afternoon, and today's morning thinking about what Ginny told him.
The truth is that this is what he has been hoping for to happen since the beginning of their seventh year. When, after two months of no Hermione in his life, he sees her and thinks, just like that, no cosmic realization or nothing, I am in love with her. He doesn't even know when he actually fell for her, but he supposes it was somewhere around last year, while they were hunting for the Horcruxes.
Really, I should have noticed it sooner, especially after reacting so strongly at the kiss she shared with Ron last year… I am a bloody idiot…
So, he has enough reasons to be happy; Hermione fancies him! But happy doesn't begin to cover how he's feeling right now after reading what was written on her scroll. And Hermione is right, he decides, she would probably carry his family name better than anyone else.
Ginny Potter, for example, it certainly doesn't sounds right, and while it doesn't sound wrong to him, there is something off about it that makes him uncomfortable.
Who else? Cho Potter? Lavender Potter? Parvati Potter? Susan/Hannah/Pansy Potter?
No, definitely not.
Harry is positive he could eventually find some witch whose name would go well with his, but that's not the point. That's not the point at all.
It's the feelings that seeing her name next to his evokes in him what matters. The feeling of fulfilment, of happiness, of finally, at the thought of it -of her- matters.
Hermione Potter. His wife, his lover, his best friend, the mother of his children.
See? It's not really about the name; it's Hermione. She makes the difference. The fact that he can actually see himself growing old with her…
Harry sighs, stealing another glance at her.
Now he only needs to find a way to make her fall in love with him (is it obvious how insecure he is, that he can't even think of the possibility of Hermione loving him already?). And once that's done… He touches briefly the square little object that has been sitting in his pocket since Christmas last year, that little velvet box that would change his life forever and that seems to get heavier with each passing day. It's not like he was going to propose to her right away, they obviously needed to date first, but if they last long enough to think marriage was the next obvious step in their relationship, he would put what's inside the box to use.
And it's not like I'm sure she'll ever want more than a date with me, regardless of what Ginny said, I just thought… it would look nice on her finger. It certainly seems to be something she would like…
"Harry?"
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To be continued…
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So, how was it? Good, bad, I suck? Comment please! And you know, if there's a mistake, go ahead and tell me, I'll fix it asap.
Next, and final, chapter will be up in two weeks from now, give or take.
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