Fic: Buried (1/1), Harry/Hermione
School is still hard!#@!#!!@@
I miss you all - don't do anything too terribly exciting while I'm busy, mmkay?
Title: Buried
Keywords/Pairings: Harry, Hermione, Harry/Hermione, mentions of R/Hr, H/G, and Hr/Other.
Spoilers: Books 1-6.
Summary: A thousand other phrases and words pass through his mind-all the things one says to their best friend on her wedding day.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1344
Dedication: For connaka and nousia, as a belated birthday gift offering. *loves on them*
Hermione’s dress hugs her curves and touches the floor. The material is lined with sparkles, blinking as they catch the light. Her necklace is a simple diamond, nestled between her breasts.
“You look beautiful.”
Hermione fingers the diamond, watching her reflection. Her hair is twisted around in a knot, small wisps escaping to frame her face.
She meets his eyes in the mirror. Her smile is sad.
“I certainly hope so.”
He takes a few steps forward and then stops, wiping his palms on his trousers. “I don’t-I mean… I don’t reckon anything can go wrong today.”
“Well, that is rather the hope, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
A thousand other phrases and words pass through his mind-all the things one says to their best friend on her wedding day. But silence falls and her mirrored gaze is still on his.
He takes another step closer. “Are you… happy?”
Her fingers clench around her diamond and she turns around. She swallows. “Of course.”
“Good.”
He watches as she chews her bottom lip between her teeth. “Harry, why are you here?”
“What d’you mean?”
Her eyes squeeze shut and then open. “Here-with me. It’s…” her voice catches, “it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, don’t you know?”
“Only for the groom-or so I’ve heard.”
She links her fingers together and stares down at them. “Same thing, really.”
He reaches her and stands in front of her. His chest is tight. “Why shouldn’t I be here? I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”
“Well-yes, but-oh, Harry….” She blinks rapidly and turns away. Her voice is quiet. “I think you ought to leave.”
He takes a deep breath. “If that’s what you want.”
“Harry…” she says his name with frustration. “You know that’s not it. But-us-like this, we can’t…”
“Can’t what?”
She seems to lose her train of thought. She looks up at him again and her expression softens. She reaches out to smooth down his tie, her hands lingering on the lapels of his jacket. “My, but do you ever look dashing.”
He gives her a smile. “Thanks.”
She raises an eyebrow and then leans forward to hug him. His arms hook around her waist and her chin rests on his shoulder, her cheek against his neck.
“Hermione?”
“Shhh,” she whispers.
He can hear a tremor in her voice, so he holds her tighter. “Why are you marrying him, Hermione?”
“Don’t, Harry-don’t ask me to answer, you won’t like it-you…” her words turn into a hiccup, ending in a sniffle. “What we are-it wasn’t-it wasn’t real-it wasn’t right.”
The sniffle turns into a muffled sob and she presses her face to his shoulder. He can feel tears soak through the material of his jacket.
His hands slide down her back and a lump rises in his throat. “That’s not true and you know it.”
“It was war time, Harry. Nothing was certain. We hardly knew what we were doing, stumbling all over the place, running about after Horcruxes. Ron had just died, we were grieving-”
He pulls away and her sob turns into a great gasp. “It was more than that and you know it.”
“Harry-”
His voice rises. “I didn’t promise you anything, Hermione, I know I didn’t, but I couldn’t. But I wanted to.”
Her brows knit together and a tear slides down her cheek, hovering on the corner of her mouth. “You promised Ginny.”
He takes a startled step backwards. “You can’t honestly-”
“Of course I can! I watched you for years, you know-always with someone who wasn’t me. I was the last resort, once Ginny was gone, once Ron was gone-then you noticed I was there. I think we both know you wished it had been me that day with Tonks.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” Her fists clench and she raises her chin. “The pair of you were always off in your own special club, ever since the day we met!”
“We were eleven! And boys! We were idiots, Hermione! I’m sorry-‘fraid I can’t do much about how we treated you so many years ago. Besides, you ended up as Ron’s girlfriend, don’t you remember?”
Her face hardens. “I remember every moment I spent with Ron.”
“Well… good.”
“Ron,” she says deliberately, “fucked me first. I remember that too.”
He flinches. “I know that.”
“Good,” she says from between clenched teeth.
She turns back around to the mirror, gathering up makeup and glaring at her reflection. He doesn’t move.
“Did you love Ron?”
She doesn’t say anything as she opens her mascara, but the muscles in her jaw clench.
“I know you don’t love Viktor, you never did-even if it always made Ron crazy.” He waits for a moment. “I don’t reckon you loved Ron either-at least, not in the same way you loved m-”
“Get out.” She spins around, her eyes drawn together and furious. “Get out, Harry. I don’t want-I don’t want you here.”
“Don’t marry him, Hermione.” His voice is tired and pleading.
Uncertainty washes over her face. “You can’t do this,” she whispers. “Not now. You had your chance.”
“So I’m telling you now.” He shrugs and shuffles his feet. “I’m sorry, okay? The war left me right mental in the head. I never should have left you. But things were confusing, Hermione. You were with Ron and I was his best mate. Going back to Ginny seemed like the right choice at the time.”
Hurt fills her eyes. “I never felt good enough, you know. Not for Ron, certainly not for you. I thought I’d felt it all when I saw him shoving his tongue down Lavender Brown’s throat when I was seventeen.” Her eyes are moist again and she brushes at them. “That was nothing-nothing-to how I felt when you went back to Ginny. Don’t you understand, Harry? You have power over me. You always have. Viktor can’t possibly hurt me in the same way you can.”
“Hermione-” he reaches for her, but she jerks back.
“Leave.”
“I won’t-I… I can’t-things can’t be over…”
He reaches for her again and he’s luckier this time. She doesn’t pull away. Instead he finds her lips and his hands finds her waist. He takes his anger and pain and pours it into the kiss, with his tongue moving against hers, over her teeth and lips. Her hands flutter up around her neck before resting on his shoulders, her body instinctively moving closer to his. He fingers the material of her dress, hand sliding down her body in a way that makes her moan.
They knock against the makeup table and they don’t care. He’s kissing her throat and her fingers are curling in his hair. Her other hand moves against his spine and he knows, knows, knows he can’t let her do this, can’t let her marry him, can’t let her walk away from him…
“Don’t marry him,” he mumbles against her lips. “Don’t throw this away, Hermione.”
“You-left-me…”
Her voice is breathy and weak and he can hear her breaking down. It’s in the way she clutches him closer and the way her lips move against his.
“Harry, why now?” she shakes her head and tears drip down. “Why now? I wish you had told me ages ago…”
“I know, I should have, but you’re… Hermione, you’re my best friend.” He grips her hands and she grips back. “I guess I can’t bear the thought of losing you to someone else. Please don’t marry him.”
“The arrangements, everything’s been made-”
“You don’t love him.”
She doesn’t challenge him. Her eyes rest on a point over his shoulder.
He cups her cheek and leans forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’m going to wait in the men’s dressing room. Take… take whatever time you need, okay?”
She wraps her fist around the diamond on her neck and finds his gaze.
More broken promises.