112. tell you that the metaphor is better than yours
Title | tell you that the metaphor is better than yours
Chapter | 1/1
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Harry. Harry/Hermione, Ron/Hermione.
Summary | I think I might have inhaled you / I could feel you behind my eyes.
Notes | Written for the hp non-canon comment ficathon.
one.
Sometimes, in quiet moments, he misses her so much that he imagines her there.
The quick tones of her voice, multi-syllable words flying by too fast to catch them, her messy-curly-frizzy-pretty hair and the way she’d brush it one million times before bed like a princess out of a fairytale, the comfortable way she could carry several books in the crook of her elbow, the shape (and taste and feel) of her pink mouth.
She’s excellent company and he’s probably certifiably crazy but seven years, you know? Seven years of her ideas shaping his future and her hand learning its way comfortably into his and the war to end all wars; he’ll never known another girl - woman - the way he knows her.
two.
He misses Ron, deeply and permanently, but it’s different. They are cemented: best friends, always, without question. Wherever they finish, they can begin again at that exact point.
It’s different with Hermione - or rather, it’s different without her. There are no grand gestures but there are assumptions, assumptions that everyone seems to hold, assumptions that she will marry his best friend, live her life with Ron ever after, have his children and be his wife. It will be cemented.
And Harry will be left with should’ve-been, could’ve-been, would’ve-been…
Almost was.
three.
Hermione Granger has a new last name and blonder hair the next time he sees her in the flesh. He thinks her eyes are paler and her wrists are thinner, or maybe the Hermione of his memories is always from the Hogwarts-years, a little younger and a little more certain.
“D’you know something?” she says, when they find themselves in an empty room.
The Hermione who lurks at the corners of his vision answers for him and he steals her words. “I know many things,” he teases.
She smacks him gently upside the head and he wishes she’d touch him again. Her eyebrows lift conspiratorially, “Rita Skeeter’s still convinced we’re having a mad love affair.”
He raises his eyebrows, too, and mutters, “Lunacy, eh?”
In the room’s soft light her smile looks like a secret and she leans back to sit comfortably next to him. “Something along those lines,” she whispers, and seven years, you know? Seven years. It’s so easy now to hear the words she leaves unsaid.
end.
Chapter | 1/1
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Harry. Harry/Hermione, Ron/Hermione.
Summary | I think I might have inhaled you / I could feel you behind my eyes.
Notes | Written for the hp non-canon comment ficathon.
one.
Sometimes, in quiet moments, he misses her so much that he imagines her there.
The quick tones of her voice, multi-syllable words flying by too fast to catch them, her messy-curly-frizzy-pretty hair and the way she’d brush it one million times before bed like a princess out of a fairytale, the comfortable way she could carry several books in the crook of her elbow, the shape (and taste and feel) of her pink mouth.
She’s excellent company and he’s probably certifiably crazy but seven years, you know? Seven years of her ideas shaping his future and her hand learning its way comfortably into his and the war to end all wars; he’ll never known another girl - woman - the way he knows her.
two.
He misses Ron, deeply and permanently, but it’s different. They are cemented: best friends, always, without question. Wherever they finish, they can begin again at that exact point.
It’s different with Hermione - or rather, it’s different without her. There are no grand gestures but there are assumptions, assumptions that everyone seems to hold, assumptions that she will marry his best friend, live her life with Ron ever after, have his children and be his wife. It will be cemented.
And Harry will be left with should’ve-been, could’ve-been, would’ve-been…
Almost was.
three.
Hermione Granger has a new last name and blonder hair the next time he sees her in the flesh. He thinks her eyes are paler and her wrists are thinner, or maybe the Hermione of his memories is always from the Hogwarts-years, a little younger and a little more certain.
“D’you know something?” she says, when they find themselves in an empty room.
The Hermione who lurks at the corners of his vision answers for him and he steals her words. “I know many things,” he teases.
She smacks him gently upside the head and he wishes she’d touch him again. Her eyebrows lift conspiratorially, “Rita Skeeter’s still convinced we’re having a mad love affair.”
He raises his eyebrows, too, and mutters, “Lunacy, eh?”
In the room’s soft light her smile looks like a secret and she leans back to sit comfortably next to him. “Something along those lines,” she whispers, and seven years, you know? Seven years. It’s so easy now to hear the words she leaves unsaid.
end.