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28 January 2012 @ 07:32 pm
always; harry/hermione.  

a/n: i'm finally reposting all of the things that i wrote for the after the war ficathon forever ago. this is the first of too many of them (but i'll try to post them sporadically). and of course i start with the one in second person. #jasmineshrug
summary: in the time of the after, harry and hermione fall together in the only way that they can.
word count: 1011.
warnings: sort of sexual themes.



It was bound to happen.

You should have expected this.

After your relationship with Ron fell apart, after you had nowhere else to turn, you should have known that you would end up here, with him, always with him.

You lean forward and kiss Harry’s shoulder, smile against his skin.

In the darkness, he turns, looks at you, smiles, soft. “What is it?” and his voice is sleep-rough.

You shake your head, and drag your fingers down the knobs of his spine. “Nothing,” you whisper, and you know how you sound – fragile, probably, more than a little bit worried.

“You sure?” but he’s halfway asleep again, and you don’t answer him.

You trace patterns in the dark, and you breathe.

You have never been this content.

(After Ron –

“Hermione,” he sighed out, “Hermione, this isn’t working out.”

“I know,” you told him, and you feel sadness sweep over you, sadness you didn’t expect.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You could only smile, only give him one last kiss.

– you didn’t know where to turn, didn’t know to whom to go.

And then Harry showed up, smiling, and whisked you away, took you to Australia, helped you feel better, helped you fix yourself.)

You have never been this close to blissfully happy.

*

It isn’t that you and he don’t fight. It isn’t that you are the epitome of perfect – it’s not in the way that you finish each other’s sentences, or can read each other’s thoughts without looking.

It’s in the way he knows when you need another cup of coffee, when you know that he’s thinking about the war.

It’s in the way you spend ten years cultivating a friendship that simply grew into something more. It’s in the way you can look at him and know what he’s thinking about by the set of his jaw, the look in his eyes. It’s in the way he holds your hand when you need it and leaves you alone when you don’t.

It’s the way you buy him lilies on Halloween, every Halloween, and that becomes a tradition.

It’s whispered I love you’s in the dark, soft kisses in the morning, but the way that you don’t need them, to be content.

You are sometimes lovers and always friends and that is the most important part, the best part.

*

There was a time that you thought you knew what soulmate meant. You thought it meant Ron, meant loving someone despite their faults, despite the things you find annoying, obnoxious.

And now you know the meaning of soulmate – it’s loving someone because of their faults, because of the way they snore, the way they snap at you when you push too far, the way that they love you because of your faults, too.

It’s the way your touch calms him down when he has nightmares, the way that neither of you need each other to sleep but both of you want it.

You aren’t dependent on each other but you aren’t truly happy alone, either.

*

Sometimes, you fight.

You fight, and you throw things, and you scream until you’re not sure what you’re fighting about – but that’s the beauty of it, is that you can get past that, can get past all of it, can love each other anyway.

You go to visit the Burrow as often as you can and sometimes Ron is there and he isn’t blissfully happy with the relationship but he has Luna, now, and Ginny has Neville, and all of you are content.

(You are more than content.

Secretly, you feel that you and Harry are the happiest, though you’d never say that to them.)

*

The day Ron found out was terrifying.

You and Harry went to him, told him, together.

You thought – you thought he would yell at you, fight Harry.

Instead, though – instead he smiled, and nodded, and told you that he knew, that he always knew. That you had his blessing. That he loved you enough to not let it change anything.

You didn’t expect to feel that relieved.

*

You should have seen this coming. All of those years spent with each other, falling in something like love, you should have known this would happen.

But you’re glad you didn’t; you’re glad, because it makes the discovery so much sweeter. It makes the realizations of how much you love him better, because this is a thing you didn’t see coming until it was staring you in the face – and how could you not have seen this, not have expected it? All of those years, it was waiting, ready to show itself – but it didn’t, or you were blind, didn’t see.

Now, though – now, you know what love is, what happiness is, what a soulmate is.

It’s Harry.

Everything, all of the songs, everything that’s been written about love – you feel that, live that, with Harry.

You didn’t think it was true, everything everyone said about love.

Now, you know it is.

It has to be.

*

You don’t sleep, that night.

You eventually get up, and go to the kitchen, as you are fond of doing. You sit on the table, pull your feet up, and drink tea, several cups, until the sun rises, until you can watch the light climbing over the trees, illuminating the kitchen.

You don’t sleep much, anymore, not every night. You have Harry but you also have the memories, and more often than not they keep you up, keep you thinking and remembering and wishing, always wishing.

And when he wakes up, he sees you, and he smiles, kisses you on the head, makes you breakfast. You don’t move until he’s got a plate for you, set out in front of you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, smiles.

“I love you,” he says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, won’t be the last, but you feel deliciously warm at it, let the happiness curl through you.

You smile. “I love you, too.”

You do.

More than you would have thought possible.


 
 
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