Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 22/12/2010
Last Updated: 22/12/2010
Status: Completed
Now you looked at me, and your laughter didn’t fade or die. Now we danced all night, making up for lost time.
It happened in a smoky pub, many years and a few heartbreaks after it began. We sat at a large group of polished wooden tables which could scarcely be seen for the food and drink, loudly taking up most of the space the Three Broomsticks provided. Surrounded by merry friends and pleasant acquaintances, you sat beside me, to my right, and your face was pink with wine and laughter. Every chair was filled, each happy face enjoying the banter and the ever-flowing butterbeer, wine, and fire-whiskey after an intense Quidditch match at the school.
This reunion was much needed, for both of us. With the chaos of adulthood, we rarely found the time to just sit down and lift up our cares. I was enjoying this night immensely – my brain was so fuzzy I was certain that Luna would be trying to rid me of those pesky Wrackspurts sooner or later. But I was more than content with the fuzziness at the moment; it relaxed me, it allowed thoughts I usually suppressed to seep into the surface of my consciousness, filling me with emotions so intense and nameless and endless. In a strange way, it was comforting.
I draped my arm over the back of your chair, content to be quiet for a moment as you talked over the noise and across the table to Luna, who sat with Ron. Her normally pale skin was quite as pink as yours, though I was unsure if that was from the drink or the way my best mate had draped himself over her. This didn’t seem to bother you, and I was glad, relieved to see you enjoy yourself even in the presence of the man who had broken your heart for the witch you had never quite seen eye-to-eye with. Then again, that had happened a couple of years ago now. You weren’t one to hold on to things like that.
Neville had joined us and was managing to have a good time – or at least he seemed to be having a good time – though I knew he had been reluctant to leave his quarters in the castle. Ginny’s absence seemed to take a much greater toll on him than myself, just a year after our divorce. I felt for my friend – it wasn’t easy being under her spell.
The Three Broomsticks was buzzing with energy as we drank and celebrated and laughed. So many rounds of drinks and food were ordered, none of us could keep track of who was buying what, nor did we care. Prosperity and peace and life shined upon us. It was beautiful.
And over the laughing chatter came a familiar tune each one of us loved and missed. I wasn’t certain who began to sing, but I knew I wasn’t the only one to feel a tug at my heart as we all joined in drunken song, an ode to our former home.
Hogwarts, Hogwarts
Hoggy Warty Hogwarts
Teach us something please!
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees!
And I was suddenly transported back to those early days of my life. By now, at 25, my life before that fateful letter on my eleventh birthday seemed a distant dream. I could scarcely remember living a life that didn’t include you or Ron or Hogwarts. I looked at you sitting next to me, laughing and singing, and my heart clenched at the sight of you in a way almost painful for the intense pleasure.
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff
For now they’re bare and full of air
Dead flies and bits of fluff!
As we sang together completely unabashedly, looking at each other, laughing, I felt a rush of memories wave over me sweetly. I couldn’t begin to name them, but the weight of each memory we shared was impressed upon me in that moment. My tight heart seemed overwhelmed with gratitude and admiration and all those other nameless, endless things for you, my constant.
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we forgot!
Just do your best,
We’ll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot!
There was a great roar of cheering and laughter at the end of the song. Laughing, you reached over and hugged me tightly as if acknowledging all I felt, as if you were feeling it too. I returned the embrace happily, holding you close, unable to keep from grinning quite stupidly.
“I’ll be right back,” you said in my ear before moving away. I didn’t want to let you go just yet. Feelings I had long ignored were surfacing and in the haze of the smoke and the whiskey, I wasn’t ready to let them go either. Still I released you, and I watched as you made your way to the loo.
Around me, our friends were calling for more music. A record player soon appeared and songs from our youth soon filled the air. Nostalgia hadn’t always been a great companion of mine, but tonight it was being kind, which must be thanks to you. Most, if not all of my happy memories included you, my unwavering friend and ally.
As if summoned by my happy thoughts, you returned to the table. But before you could take your chair, I stood and took your hand, pulling you close to me. You gasped and laughed uncertainly.
“Harry, what are you – “ But you were cut short as I began to lead you in a clumsy dance. You laughed again, understanding, brought back to that time in the tent when, after a long, dreadful day of anger and abandonment, I pulled you into my arms just like this and made you smile.
Something was happening. Something bigger than the way you pressed against me and sighed a happy sigh. Something that had begun so long ago I couldn’t name the exact moment when the seed had been planted. Something I always felt was there but never quite let myself see, for whatever reason.
I twirled you about and you giggled. This something had indeed begun long ago and had been growing slowly and quietly inside us and between us.
As I pulled you back into my arms, I kissed your lips softly, as if it was simply a habit of mine. Then I buried my face in your bushy brown hair and laughed quietly, heedless of our audience. Your lips pressed into my neck, and I wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a kiss I felt there. But we continued to dance, continued to laugh, continued to kiss. Part of me wondered why I hadn’t done it that night in the tent. I remembered wanting to, I remembered stifling the urge at the sight of your lowered, scared eyes.
Now you looked at me, and your laughter didn’t fade or die. Now we danced all night, making up for lost time.