Title: The Language of Gifts
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Umm, well, it's from Ginny's POV, but it's Harry/Hermione.
Rating/Warnings: FRC
Author's Note: I changed a few things after this was beta'd (by
lady_of_scarlet, so there might be some mistakes. Totally my fault.
I'm skipping the summary, because the title kind of does it for me. At least to me it does.
(Oh, and
oroburos69 this could fit your back-up request for Harry/Hermione/Ginny, but I did do your first one. So, if you like it consider it yours. If you don't, thanks for the inspiration ;)
He buys her jewelry, perfume, and pretty things. Things most woman would love to get from their husbands. In truth, she's certain every Christmas present he's ever given her has been perfectly lovely and appropriate. Not to mention to her taste. So she didn't notice at first, and even when she did she wasn't particularly bothered, at least not until she began to catch the glances and smiles, and all the other subtle exchanges that seemed to define their friendship. She sometimes has to remind herself that's all it is.
He doesn't get her pretty things, or anything that might be considered inappropriate for a married man to give one of his best friends. But she knows every single present he has ever given her has been carefully chosen, and holds special meaning that only the two them are privy to (and possibly her brother, if some of the looks he's given Harry when they're opened are anything to go by). She knows this because, while she may go with him when they are chosen, Harry always takes charge and picks out Hermione's gift. And despite the gift tag having, To: Hermoine From: The Potters, it's only really from one of them.
This year she watches with rapt attention, as Hermione slowly, reverently, unwraps Harry's gift. Her eyes glance every so often to her husband, who only has eyes for Hermione in that moment. An affectionate smile turns up his lips as the wrapping paper finally falls away.
From the gasp that follows as Hermione opens the tiny box, and the slight watering of her eyes that catches in the light, Ginny's mind is already wondering what this one means. And she can't help the surge of jealousy and anger that briefly swells up before she's able to quash it.
Hermione looks directly at Harry then, and his affectionate smile has turned into one Ginny doesn't know, and his eyes are saying things she cannot read. But the woman across the room from him, the one who is not his wife, is fluent in Harry, and is answering him with her own watery, but mysterious smile.
The whole exchange last mere moments, and the rest of the room is busy with their gifts and idle chatter, but amidst the chaos is a bubble where only they exist. She looks to Ron to see if this is one of the times he has picked up on something, but he's busy feigning enjoyment at yet another of their mother's handmade Weasley sweaters.
And when she turns back, there is a lead weight that has taken up residence in her stomach at the scene that unfolds. Hermione's crossed the room to give Harry one of her infamous bear hugs, but at the last second her grip loosens, and it doesn't escape Ginny's notice that they both linger far longer than necessary.
And it's not what they say, because those words are said constantly throughout the day to friends, family, and strangers alike. It's how they say them. Soft, but weighted, as though a whole story is being told, and with an undercurrent of something she reluctantly names.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione."
"Happy Christmas, Harry."
Longing.
Still no photos. Well, I have some but they're unedited. This is my last drabble though, so I better get on that.