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alexandra-emerson · 1 year

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Harmony Halloween Drabble

I wrote this for @suzyq31.

“And how’s Hermione?”

Harry removed his glasses and rested his head against the back of the chair. “Fine,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the office. “I’m still hopelessly in love with her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“And she still doesn’t know?”

“She remains blissfully unaware,” he said bitterly.

“Perhaps the feeling is not blissful for her. You should tell her.”

“No.” Harry sat up and put his glasses back on. “We’re friends. Best friends. Telling her that…it would be a disaster.”

“You don’t know that. It could—”

“Can we talk about something else?” Harry cut in.

His mind healer watched him for an uncomfortable few seconds, then nodded. “Sure. What would you like to discuss, Harry?”

“I don’t know. Ron and I are hosting a party tonight. For Halloween.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, sighing again. “I’m sure it will be great.”

***

Later that night, Harry sipped on a cup of orange punch as he watched his friends file into his house. Though this place didn’t look like his house anymore, thanks to Ron and George. The walls were shrouded in black gauze and there were shiny silver spider webs in the corners—though no spiders, Ron had assured him. The windows were covered by dark red drapes and Ron and George had placed floating glowing pumpkins in the air, which cast an eerie glow around the space. All together, it was an impressive sight.

Harry finished his drink and was setting the empty cup on a side table when Hermione walked in. His heart stuttered as her face lit up at the sight of the transformed room. He saw her search the room, then grin as Ron approached her. They hugged and Harry was about to go join them when Hermione snaked an arm around a tall wizard’s waist.

Harry’s stomach rolled as he moved to get a better view of the wizard. Who would she have brought tonight? Did she have a boyfriend? Why hadn’t she told him? Harry’s stomach did another flip when he finally got a look at the wizard’s face. It was Ernie MacMillan.

Harry’s eyes moved back to Hermione, who was chatting with Ron while holding Ernie. She was probably telling Ron the brilliant story of how they had become a couple. Ron nodded, clearly bored, then waved at someone behind her. He patted her shoulder, said something to MacMillan, and left to greet the next guest.

Hermione was searching the room again, probably looking for him. Harry stepped behind one of the large drapes, glad that the light in the room was so dim.

Hermione was with Ernie MacMillan. Damn, he needed another drink.

***

Before long, Harry was outside, sitting on the steps of the back porch as he shivered in the cold night air. His attention was caught by movement at the top of his vision. He lifted his eyes to see a few leaves fall from the tree. He felt like he was falling too—like he’d been falling for months— but unlike those leaves, which had settled peacefully onto the grass, there seemed to be no end to his descent.

An unexpected warmth spread through him, starting at his back, then moving like warm syrup down his limbs and up his neck. He recognized the magic and dipped his head as tears stung his eyes.

Hermione had found him.

He felt her take a seat at his side, then lean into him. He stayed quiet as he took deep breaths, trying to calm his scattered thoughts.

“I know Halloween is hard for you,” she said eventually.

Harry nodded. Yes, Halloween was the night his parents had died and yet, that wasn’t what had him so upset right now. He should be mourning them. That would be sensible. But the thing bringing tears to his eyes was thoughts of Hermione and her stupid date. His throat went dry and he struggled to swallow as guilt surged through him.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” he said, voice rough. “Tell me…tell me about you.”

“About me? I don’t know… Nothing much to report.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t snort. He took a deep breath, then turned to face her. Fuck, she was beautiful, her skin smooth and shining in the moonlight. How was that fair? “Are you having fun at the party? It’s…cool, yeah? All the decorations.”

Hermione nodded as her brow crinkled with concern. “It’s good. I, um, am actually on a date. With Ernie MacMillan. He…asked me out and I said yes.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess that's how people usually end up on dates. Someone asks and the other person agrees.”

“Yeah,” she replied, clearly unimpressed by his insightful observation.

Harry let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to retreat to his room and go to sleep. He could make an excuse now, say he was too sad for a party, but some destructive part of him urged him to keep pressing on this topic. “You like him? MacMillan? I didn’t know you saw him anymore.”

“I don’t. We were Heads together, that last year of Hogwarts, and I know he liked me then but I…um, didn’t. Then I ran into him yesterday and he asked me out. I thought, why not? It’s nice to have a date for these sorts of things.”

“Yeah. Being alone sucks.”

“Oh. I’m—I didn’t mean.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and met his eyes. The expression there was sad, apologetic, almost regretful.

They watched each other for several long moments, then Harry did something absolutely stupid. He took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and warm against his, but her skin under his palm was cool. He buried his fingers in her curls and turned his head. His heart soared when she started moving her lips in time with his.

He tilted her chin up, about to deepen their kiss, when she pulled away. Her eyes were wide with shock. She shook her head and stumbled to her feet. “I should—Ernie is—inside. He’s waiting.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course he is.” Harry pulled himself up onto shaky legs. “I, I’m sorry. That was…I was just…we were talking about being alone and I’m…you know…sad…erm, in a really shit mood. Just forget it. Just—” He cut off, officially out of words.

He was falling again, plummeting to the ground, waiting for the crash. A yell, a slap across the face, something. But all she did was stare at him. “I’m going to go.

“Yeah. You—you should.”

“Okay. Um, bye.” She did a weird little curtsey, then rushed back inside, leaving Harry alone in the dark.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Each muttered swear was punctuated by the stomp of his boot against the pavement.

“Fuck, fuck.”

Harry walked and walked and walked, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself the stupid thing he’d done. He’d kissed her! Right after she told him she was on a date with another bloke.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Harry wasn’t looking where he was going. He was just focused on walking away from Grimmauld Place. A while later, he groaned as he recognized a familiar brick building with a statue of a little girl holding a bird out front. His feet had brought him all the way across town to Hermione’s flat. Brilliant.

He turned around and made for a muggle pub he’d visited with Hermione several times. He ordered a pint and just stared at it. He wasn’t in the mood for beer. He wasn’t in the mood for anything.

Harry stayed there a long time, waiting for the party at his house to end. When he thought he’d waited long enough, he placed a pile of coins next to his untouched drink and ventured back into the night. It wasn’t until he was halfway across London when he realized he’d paid with sickles and knuts.

“Fuck.”

The party was over when he returned home. As Harry approached the sitting room, he half-expected to find her there. What would he say? Would he tell her the truth? Maybe she’d already guessed it? That would be convenient. Would she be upset? Pitying? Apologetic? Or maybe… was it possible she’d welcome his feelings? Yeah right.

She wasn’t there. It was just Ron, looking equal parts worried and annoyed. “Where were you? Why did you leave without saying anything?”

Harry tossed out some rushed excuses before escaping to his room. He climbed into bed with his clothes still on and stared up at the ceiling. All he could see there was Hermione’s face, eyes blown wide with shock. As he continued to watch, her features twisted into horror, then disgust. He closed his eyes, but that just made her face clearer.

“Fuck.”

He willed his mind to focus on something else and it complied…sort of. His thoughts swirled all around, taking him to darker and darker places, some with Hermione, and some without. All he could do was go along for the ride and pray that one day soon, he’d stop falling.

***

He didn’t see her again until Sunday, during the weekly lunch at the Burrow. She acted like nothing had happened and though that’s exactly what he’d asked her to do, it made him angry. He seethed at the side of the room as she hid behind conversations with Bill, then Arthur, then Ginny.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and insisted she join him outside. As they walked through the garden, he began regretting his decision. What the fuck was his plan here? He’d wanted her attention but now that he had it, he had no idea what to do with it.

“Harry?” she asked, stopping on the path. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I just thought we should talk. About, er, the party.”

“Oh. Well, you were sad and looking for comfort and I was just…there. It’s fine. I get it.” She gave him a small smile, then cocked her head toward the house. “Shall we go back?”

“No.”

“Oh. You have more to say?”

Was that a hint of hope in her voice? Or maybe just wishful thinking on his part. Harry took her hand and before he considered what he was going to say, words began pouring out of his mouth.

“You weren’t ‘just there.’ I don’t want you to think that. You’re never ‘just there.’ You fill the whole room. Always. And that night you…I didn’t kiss you because you were the first person to come check on me. You were—were the only one I wanted to see. I’m—I’m always glad to see you. So don’t—don’t say you were ‘just there.’”

Hermione looked down at their hands, then up at him. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Harry inhaled, but the air got trapped in his lungs before he could take a full breath. That’s probably why his next words were so stupid—his brain was lacking oxygen or something. “I think you’re important. A good friend. That’s…what I meant.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a shaky smile. “We’re good friends. And the rest…you don’t see me like that. That’s okay.” She squeezed his hand and released it before turning away. She began walking back toward the house, leaves crunching under her feet.

What was that? Was she sad? Did she want more, like he did? Was he just seeing what he wanted? “Sod it,” he whispered, then closed his eyes and said louder, “But I do.”

The crunching of the leaves stopped. “What?”

Harry took another breath, a full one this time, then turned to face her. “I do. See you like that. I have, for a long time. But I—I’ve been too much of a coward to say so. I’ve been too afraid of losing you. But I—I feel that way about—about you.”

She walked back, slowly and stopped in front of him. She rested a hand on his chest. Could she feel his heart pounding there? Did she know it was hers? That it had been hers for years? Did she know how scared it was as it trembled under her hand, finally laid bare, waiting for her to determine its fate?

“You like me?” Her words were so soft, they were nearly swallowed up by the wind.

“I’m in love with you,” he corrected, making sure to enunciate each word, so there would be no chance of being misunderstood. Then, he lost his nerve and added meekly, “But I…I can stop. If you want.”

She dropped her gaze to where her hand was still touching his jumper. He watched her long lashes as he waited for her verdict. They fluttered, then rose until her eyes met his. The sight of the tears welling in them there broke his heart. He was about to step backward when she said, “Don’t stop.”

Her lips curved into a smile as her words filled him up, like warm air. He was floating again but before he could leave the ground, she took hold of him and crashed their lips together.

This kiss wasn’t tentative, like a few nights ago. It wasn’t a fleeting thing, a stolen moment. This was solid, and warm, and filled with passion. The wind kicked up and they were standing in a whirlwind of leaves. Hermione leaned her head back and laughed and he smiled when a few leaves stuck to her hair. As the wind continued to encircle them, he took her chin and recaptured her mouth, then pressed his tongue past her lips.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, until they were breathless and their lips were chapped. When they finally paused for air, they stayed close, staring at each other as the wind finally died down. He saw the leaves that had been flying around them settle out of the corner of his eye as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

He closed his eyes and smiled. Another breeze kicked up and he imagined it picking up more leaves and carrying them away. But Harry stayed firmly in place, finally rooted in Hermione’s arms.

#Harmony #hhr #drabble #harmony drabble #harry x hermione #harmione

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