Every time I look at you the world just melts away
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affection
You see me at my weakest but you take me as I am
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land
You stay the course you hold the line
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe in
You’re all the things that I desire
You save me
You complete me.
- Sarah McLachlan “Push”
September 29, 2005- Present Day: 3:45am
He hopes he isn’t too late.
There’s muffled pop and a disgruntled looking man suddenly appears in the dark living room of the town home. He immediately rushes from dark room to dark room, finding each of them empty. “Hermione?” he calls out desperately needing to hear her answering voice. Not a sound reaches his ears.
He walks into her room, pauses and swallows. A part of him feels as if he is invading privacy. He is happy to just simply stand in the doorway and admire the room that she lives in, the bed that she sleeps in, the books that she reads, the window she looks out of, the pictures adorning her mirror, the pack of letters sitting on her dresser… The pack of letters sitting on her dresser?
Furrowing his brow in curiosity he makes his way to her dresser and picks up the package. Rifling through them, he finds that they are all the letters he has sent her through the years.
“I can’t believe she’s kept these.”
“You better believe it, mate.”
He whirls around at the intruding voice and with a muttered word the intruder is thrown up against the open door and held there.
“It’s good to see you too, Harry.”
“Ron?”
Immediately, the hold on Ron’s body slackens and he drops lightly to his feet. Green eyes that only moments ago burned with a fiery intensity now look apologetically at his best friend.
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t mention it. Shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that.”
He places the pile of letters back on the dresser and Ron raises his eyebrows.
“I see you’ve found her stash.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s not here you know.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
They walk into the kitchen and he begins to pace as Ron takes a bottle out of the fridge, hands it to him then grabs one for himself.
“So you’re not going to tell me then?”
“Tell you what?” Ron answers with a wry grin before taking a swig.
He sighs at this answer and looks around as if suspecting her to be hiding behind the couch or under the table.
“I have specific orders not to tell you.”
“Lovely.”
“Oh, don’t feel too down. If you hurry, you probably might catch up.”
He looks sharply at Ron, but doesn’t get more out of him.
“You wrote the message, didn’t you?”
“Naturally.”
“I’ve got to hand it to you Ron, it was very tactful of you not to mention anything before the engagement.”
“The talent comes naturally, mate and as I said in the message, you’ll thank me later.”
“I hope so,” he sighs.
Then with a nod of farewell he disappears.
“Cheers, Harry,” Ron whispers with a smile.
September 24, 2005
“Oh isn’t it wonderful darling?” the woman in blue squeals and she grips her fiancée’s hand in excitement. He smiles back at her and looks at the dress in the window.
“Yeah, it is.”
“I must have it. It will look absolutely divine on me don’t you think?”
Her eyes dance and sparkle as she looks at him joyfully. He leans over and places a feather light kiss on her neck.
“Anything with look beautiful on you Gwen. Anything.”
Gwen frantically tries to still her racing heart and her smile widens. She places a hand on his cheek and touches her forehead with his.
“You’re so sweet,” Gwen whispers, teary eyed and she kisses him. “Come, let’s go inside. I want to try it on.”
The couple walk into the dress shop and are immediately greeted by a boisterous looking woman, who kindly and excitedly ushers them in.
In moments, Gwen all smiles once more and with now three dresses in hand, enters the change rooms. He waits patiently outside for her, sitting in an armchair positioned so that he can look out the store window.
It’s been years since he has been in here. The last time as far as he can remember is the day he and Ron accompanied a flustered Hermione. It was the week before graduation and she was, not surprisingly, valedictorian. So of course she was obliged to have the dress to accompany the title.
He remembers being just as bored then as he is bored now. At least Ron was here back then to keep his spirits up. He could still hear Ron’s and his own teasing laughter as they select the wildest dresses for their friend to try on. He smiles as her face, flushed with embarrassment and annoyance, appears before his mind’s eye.
“You two are the most childish, inconsiderate people I know,” she says with a huff, swiping the dresses from their arms and placing them back where they belong.
“And you mean that in the nicest possible way right?” Ron answers with a laugh.
Still chuckling, Harry gasps with mock exclamation and snags a little red number off an awaiting rack. He ignores the upraising look the storekeeper throws at him as Ron’s guffaws egg him on.
“Would you look at this?” he says in mock surprise. “Isn’t this simply divine?!”
“Harry Potter, you put that back this instant.”
“Not until you try it on.”
“I will not.”
Moments later, with much urging, encouragement and muffled laughter she has the dress on.
He turns as he hears the door opening, signaling her entrance. The laughter dies in his throat. He swallows.
She is stunning.
Looking nervously from one to the other she asks, “What do you think?”
He is at loss for words. Something stirs within the pit of his stomach and he battles the sudden, carnal urge away; quite startled at this initial reaction.
“It’s smashing,” Ron announces, killing the awkward silences hanging around them. She smiles.
“Harry?”
He blinks and the memories fall away. Gwen’s image swims before his eyes. She looks lovely.
“Wow,” he admires.
“You like it?”
“Of course I do.”
“I can’t seem to decide.”
“Take them all.”
Her eyes widen at his comment.
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
She squeals, throws herself on him and kisses him senseless.
“You’re welcome?” he says amusingly and slightly out of breath and she smiles in answer and rushes back into the room to change.
Once paid for, the couple walks through the crowded streets arm in arm. She is looking in all the windows admiring the objects held there. Someone catches his eye.
“What is it, darling?” Gwen asks, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes.
“I thought I saw someone I know.”
“Who?”
“Hermione.”
“Oh.”
“I wonder what she’s doing here.”
“Shopping most likely. Look, darling, it’s almost time for our meeting with the wedding planner. Shouldn’t we get going?”
“In a minute, Gwen,” he says distractedly and strolls into a flower boutique.
She is standing right before him and he brightens. She’s too busy looking at the flowers to notice him towering over her. For the first time, he becomes aware of the fact that she doesn’t even come up to his shoulders, unlike Gwen who can easily stare at him eye to eye.
He watches as she picks up a red rose and brings it to her nose, shutting her eyes for mere moments, inhaling, and suddenly he remembers her chatting with their fellow Gryffindors right after the ceremony.
Her dark hair falls over her shoulders in waves. A single chain is the only piece of jewelry that adorns her creamy skin. The dress is perfect; fitting to her every curve like a second skin.
The afternoon sun gently kisses her features and he remembers her turning at the sound of her name. She smiles at him brightly and he hands her a rose.
Neville, with a queer smile on his face, says his goodbyes and moves on to Seamus.
"Harry, you shouldn't have."
She buries her nose in its deep red petals.
"I wanted to." he answers with a grin, not able to take his eyes off her.
She reaches up and places a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Well, thank you," she looks back down at the delicate flower, smiling warmly, "It's very beautiful."
His eyes never leave her.
Indeed it is. He thinks to himself.
As the memory fades, he continues to stand there for a moment, her scent overwhelming him before he leans down and whispers, “Choose the red. They’re much prettier.”
She jumps and whirls around.
“Harry! You, git, don’t do that!”
He chuckles as she stands on her toes and throws her arms around him in greeting.
“What are you doing here?”
“Grandmother needs fresh flowers by her bed and this is the best place to get them.”
“How is she?”
“Oh, she’s alright. It’s only a sprain. She’ll recover in no time. So, what are you doing here.”
“Shopping.”
“For what exactly?”
“Gwen and I are here to meet with the planner, but we bought some gowns along the way.”
Her smile freezes on her face.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
She glances behind him, looking puzzled.
“Um, you said you were with Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you’ve seem to have lost her.”
“What?”
He turns to look behind him, expecting to see his fiancée patiently waiting. Rows of flowers greet his inspecting gaze.
“Gwen?” he calls out.
“I think she’s out there.”
She points outside to the tall, stunning woman chatting with the florist. He flushes.
“You didn’t forget her, did you, Harry?”
He scoffs in answer to this, “Of course not! How can I forget my own wife?”
“Yes, of course. Well, I should be going. I need to run a few errands before I’m off to the hospital,” she answers vaguely and brushes past him with a grin.
“You don’t need any help with anything?”
She waves him off, “Oh, no. I’ll be fine. You don’t want to be late for meeting now do you?” And with that she bids him a farewell and disappears deeper into the store.
He stands there for a few moments finding himself incapable of any movement.
“Harry, there you are! This store is rather big don’t you think. It would take ages to find what we wanted. Did you find her?”
“Yeah, she had to buy some flowers for her grandmother.”
Her eyes fill with concern, “Oh how is the poor woman doing?”
He explains that it’s only a sprain and once finished she looks at her watch.
“Oh, gosh we can’t be late, come on.”
She takes his hand, leading him out of the store.