FIC for: remarked
Title: Picture Book
Recipient: remarked
Fic or Art: Fic
Rating: R
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Past Cedric
Warnings: A bit dark. Those who dislike Trio hintage, stay away.
Summary: While leaving Hogwarts after Dumbledore's funeral, Harry discovers Hermione's picture album and contemplates the future.
Notes: Death, who? Read to see.
He was thinking again. Hermione glanced at her longtime friend and companion, Harry Potter. Savior of the known wizarding world, average Hogwarts student, and all around troublemaker. He was gazing out the window, studying the horizon for some odd reason, but Hermione knew that he was wearing the weight of the world that just happened to be resting on his thin, bony shoulders.
Though he wasn’t a wraith, Harry seemed to still look awkward in his seventeen-year-old body. Harry was a handful of centimeters short of two meters, while their joint best friend, Ron Weasley, was nearly a handful of centimeters taller than two meters. Hermione was the odd girl out, being obviously of the fairer sex, and also only reaching 166 centimeters.
Hermione looked across the car at Ron whispering quietly with Ginny as the train shook and swayed its way toward London. This would probably be the last time Ron would see his sister. For the next few months, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be scouring the British Isles for the missing Horcruxes and following what was shaping up to be a very deadly trail.
Harry had looked up from his brooding long enough to catch Hermione’s eye. Nodding, Hermione cleared her throat.
“Ginny, didn’t Luna want to talk to you about something?” It was a lame excuse, of course, but it was a chance to get the youngest Weasley out of the car and time for the three of them to talk.
“Did she? I’ll go check.” Ginny slipped out and Ron cast a locking charm while Hermione cast a silencing charm on the car.
"Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said gravely. It seemed to Hermione that Harry had died on the tower along with Dumbledore that night. When they had found him, he was crazed and not at all himself. It was only after Madam Pomfrey stuffed him with chocolate did the life go out of him.
“So, how are we going to pull this whole disappearing thing off?” Ron asked as he rearranged himself almost on top of Hermione. Hermione snorted and shoved him, trying to gain herself some breathing room as Ron’s now lengthy arm snaked about her waist. Harry stared at them for a moment before shaking his head and blinking hard.
“I’ll return to the Dursleys' until all three of us have our Apparating licenses, since we can’t do much with out them.” Harry twiddled his thumbs in an anxious sort of way while he spoke his thought aloud. “We’ll agree on a date, and a place where we can all Apparate.” Harry pursed his lips in thought.
“How about a week after the last person gets their license?” Ron smiled at what he thought was a clever idea and looked to Hermione for reassurance.
“Good idea,” Hermione murmured and nearly smacked him as his wandering fingers were creeping up the back of her shirt. “Would you stop that?” Hermione growled. Turning to berate the youngest male Weasley, Hermione’s hip hit her book bag and sent a colorful book tumbling out. It fell open to reveal years and years of Muggle and wizarding photos tacked to colorful pages and silly little stickers and notes scrawled beneath.
“What’s this?” Harry’s fingers brushed the pages as he snatched up the tome. He pulled the book into his lap and flipped to the beginning.
A younger Hermione stood proudly in a Muggle photograph with her parents at King’s Cross, smiling with her large front teeth and her books piled in her arms. Above in loopy scrawl, ‘My Years at Hogwarts’ was written in gold. Harry let a corner of his mouth kick up as he looked up at his best friends.
“May I?” Harry swallowed hard asking permission. He yearned to look back at a life with little worry and the only concern was whether or not he got a Chocolate Frog or a pumpkin tart on the ride to Hogwarts.
“Of course.” Hermione slid next to Harry, nearly crowding him and leaving Ron bewildered and flustered. “We’re allowed to have small joys in life Harry.” Hermione smiled and turned the page. The next grouping of photos were Harry and Ron in the Great Hall laughing. Several were Muggle photos, a few were wizarding photos.
Ron had already snuggled in behind Hermione and was slowly working his hand to around her middle and pulling her into his lap.
“Can you be my small joy? Who knows how many more we’ll have?” Ron nuzzled Hermione’s neck.
Harry kept his focus on the photo book and watched himself grow up. He could hear Hermione sigh off to his left and knew that it was in his retinas’ best interest for him to keep focused on the pictures.
Harry froze at a wizarding photo of Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang during his fourth year; they were in the background of a photo of Hermione and Viktor at the Yule Ball. Harry nearly slammed the book shut when a memory assailed him.
“We’re going to make it out of here, Cedric,” Harry whispered into the misty depths of the graveyard. He could hear Cedric breathing hard behind him, a natural reaction to fear. Harry could feel his heartbeat throbbing at his temples - and even so much as making the air surrounding him pulse. Harry felt the bile of fear climbing up his throat as he saw a figure a head raising their wand.
"You there! Do you-” The Killing Curse was cast and before Harry could yell at Cedric to get down, the greenish tint of magical death had taken Cedric.
“Cedric, NO!” Harry screamed and fell atop his now dead classmate. Gripping the navy robes that Cedric was wearing, Harry shook them in a desperate attempt to bring his classmate to life. Harry felt tears brimming as he stared at the crumpled body of Cedric Diggory. The perfect student, with the perfect girlfriend that Harry himself had lusted over, that had trusted in him to keep him alive. He had failed him. Like he had failed everyone else. Harry went to turn -
“Snap out of it, Harry!” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s eyes and scowled at him. Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen, and Harry could see her nipples. Harry glanced at Ron who was in a similar state and thankfully Hermione’s rear was covering the presence of Ron’s reaction. Hermione leaned over, giving Harry an unhindered view of her breasts, and Harry felt what every seventeen-year-old felt at the sight of breasts, unless he was into men. Harry cleared his throat and pulled the picture book over his lap. Hermione’s hand brushed the affected area as she flipped the page. It revealed a summer at Grimmauld Place and Harry’s moments with Sirius over the summer. Harry felt a bittersweet tinge in his chest that put a damper on the Hermione-induced arousal, and Harry fought back the bitter feelings Harry had over losing Sirius.
Harry looked blindly at the picture book that he no longer had interest in, while it held good memories - many of them at that - the horrid memories were overpowering. Harry looked at Ron, whose hands were clasped on Hermione’s hips as she leaned over Harry, and saw the face that had kept him sane for all these years. Harry knew that these two would be with him forever, even if he didn’t make it out of this alive. He loved them, he really did. Harry looked at Ron and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner and Ron furrowed his in a confused manner. Then suddenly as if he had an epiphany, Ron gave a single jerky nod. Looking back at Hermione who was turned and looking at the pictures smiling to herself, Harry grasped her chin and turned her to face him.
“Harry?” Hermione asked softly as he studied the face of the closest thing he had to a sister. Not that the feelings he had stirring were anything brotherly. Her hair was still wild and tended to frizz into an unmanageable mess during the late spring, but now she had finally found a way to control it. Her face had softened into that of a woman who wouldn’t be overly beautiful, but interesting enough to draw an eye or two.
“Do you think we’ll live through this? This search?” Harry whispered.
“I really can’t say. Even if I drew up enough charts to calculate the outcomes I can’t say.” Hermione grasped Harry’s arm in a loving grip. “I have to think positive though, because it really does affect the outcome.”
“Do you love me?” Harry said quickly. He felt Hermione start and Ron breathe in quickly. “Like you love Ron? That you would have both of us?” Harry studied Hermione’s eyes and found the turmoil and truth in his statements. Hermione’s eyes darted to Ron’s. “And you Ron, do you love me like you love Hermione?” Harry whispered, fearing the walls would carry his words. Harry’s ears strained to hear either of his friends say something. Ron broke first.
“Yes. You’re my best mate and if I were gay I’d bugger you every chance I got. I would rather bugger Hermione, but if she’s willing I’ll let you bugger her. I’d share anything with you Harry. Especially my life.” Ron took a hand off of Hermione’s hip and rest it on Harry’s shoulder.
“I love you like I love Ron, Harry. Different yet the same.” Hermione’s hands settled on Harry’s shoulders as she gazed at his face. Ron’s hands began their earlier exploration as one came to curl around the front of her hip, the other snuck up her shirt and Harry stared as it came to palm her breast. “I’ll love you both until I take my last breath.” Hermione’s lips sealed over Harry’s as she kissed him for the first, and last, time.
Suddenly the lights cut out and the three struggled to right their clothes. The train lurched to a stop and several screams could be heard outside. Harry snapped to attention and looked outside. The sun was still shining, clouds drifted by. What could possibly be wrong? Ron stood beside him gripping his wand tightly.
“What’s going on?” Ron muttered.
“Ron, Harry.” The soft exclamation behind them sent them turning to look in abject horror as Hermione settled her hands over a growing red stain on her shirt. Behind her stood the dull gleam of a familiar mask. It seems that the Death Eaters had found them. Hermione fell to the floor only to bleed her life away. Magic couldn’t fix a fist sized hole through your abdomen, and it couldn’t bring her back.
As Harry had experienced 17 years ago, the train car lit up in a bright green light and the words “Avada Kedavra” rang out in the startling clear summer day.
-fin-
Recipient: remarked
Fic or Art: Fic
Rating: R
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Past Cedric
Warnings: A bit dark. Those who dislike Trio hintage, stay away.
Summary: While leaving Hogwarts after Dumbledore's funeral, Harry discovers Hermione's picture album and contemplates the future.
Notes: Death, who? Read to see.
He was thinking again. Hermione glanced at her longtime friend and companion, Harry Potter. Savior of the known wizarding world, average Hogwarts student, and all around troublemaker. He was gazing out the window, studying the horizon for some odd reason, but Hermione knew that he was wearing the weight of the world that just happened to be resting on his thin, bony shoulders.
Though he wasn’t a wraith, Harry seemed to still look awkward in his seventeen-year-old body. Harry was a handful of centimeters short of two meters, while their joint best friend, Ron Weasley, was nearly a handful of centimeters taller than two meters. Hermione was the odd girl out, being obviously of the fairer sex, and also only reaching 166 centimeters.
Hermione looked across the car at Ron whispering quietly with Ginny as the train shook and swayed its way toward London. This would probably be the last time Ron would see his sister. For the next few months, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be scouring the British Isles for the missing Horcruxes and following what was shaping up to be a very deadly trail.
Harry had looked up from his brooding long enough to catch Hermione’s eye. Nodding, Hermione cleared her throat.
“Ginny, didn’t Luna want to talk to you about something?” It was a lame excuse, of course, but it was a chance to get the youngest Weasley out of the car and time for the three of them to talk.
“Did she? I’ll go check.” Ginny slipped out and Ron cast a locking charm while Hermione cast a silencing charm on the car.
"Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said gravely. It seemed to Hermione that Harry had died on the tower along with Dumbledore that night. When they had found him, he was crazed and not at all himself. It was only after Madam Pomfrey stuffed him with chocolate did the life go out of him.
“So, how are we going to pull this whole disappearing thing off?” Ron asked as he rearranged himself almost on top of Hermione. Hermione snorted and shoved him, trying to gain herself some breathing room as Ron’s now lengthy arm snaked about her waist. Harry stared at them for a moment before shaking his head and blinking hard.
“I’ll return to the Dursleys' until all three of us have our Apparating licenses, since we can’t do much with out them.” Harry twiddled his thumbs in an anxious sort of way while he spoke his thought aloud. “We’ll agree on a date, and a place where we can all Apparate.” Harry pursed his lips in thought.
“How about a week after the last person gets their license?” Ron smiled at what he thought was a clever idea and looked to Hermione for reassurance.
“Good idea,” Hermione murmured and nearly smacked him as his wandering fingers were creeping up the back of her shirt. “Would you stop that?” Hermione growled. Turning to berate the youngest male Weasley, Hermione’s hip hit her book bag and sent a colorful book tumbling out. It fell open to reveal years and years of Muggle and wizarding photos tacked to colorful pages and silly little stickers and notes scrawled beneath.
“What’s this?” Harry’s fingers brushed the pages as he snatched up the tome. He pulled the book into his lap and flipped to the beginning.
A younger Hermione stood proudly in a Muggle photograph with her parents at King’s Cross, smiling with her large front teeth and her books piled in her arms. Above in loopy scrawl, ‘My Years at Hogwarts’ was written in gold. Harry let a corner of his mouth kick up as he looked up at his best friends.
“May I?” Harry swallowed hard asking permission. He yearned to look back at a life with little worry and the only concern was whether or not he got a Chocolate Frog or a pumpkin tart on the ride to Hogwarts.
“Of course.” Hermione slid next to Harry, nearly crowding him and leaving Ron bewildered and flustered. “We’re allowed to have small joys in life Harry.” Hermione smiled and turned the page. The next grouping of photos were Harry and Ron in the Great Hall laughing. Several were Muggle photos, a few were wizarding photos.
Ron had already snuggled in behind Hermione and was slowly working his hand to around her middle and pulling her into his lap.
“Can you be my small joy? Who knows how many more we’ll have?” Ron nuzzled Hermione’s neck.
Harry kept his focus on the photo book and watched himself grow up. He could hear Hermione sigh off to his left and knew that it was in his retinas’ best interest for him to keep focused on the pictures.
Harry froze at a wizarding photo of Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang during his fourth year; they were in the background of a photo of Hermione and Viktor at the Yule Ball. Harry nearly slammed the book shut when a memory assailed him.
“We’re going to make it out of here, Cedric,” Harry whispered into the misty depths of the graveyard. He could hear Cedric breathing hard behind him, a natural reaction to fear. Harry could feel his heartbeat throbbing at his temples - and even so much as making the air surrounding him pulse. Harry felt the bile of fear climbing up his throat as he saw a figure a head raising their wand.
"You there! Do you-” The Killing Curse was cast and before Harry could yell at Cedric to get down, the greenish tint of magical death had taken Cedric.
“Cedric, NO!” Harry screamed and fell atop his now dead classmate. Gripping the navy robes that Cedric was wearing, Harry shook them in a desperate attempt to bring his classmate to life. Harry felt tears brimming as he stared at the crumpled body of Cedric Diggory. The perfect student, with the perfect girlfriend that Harry himself had lusted over, that had trusted in him to keep him alive. He had failed him. Like he had failed everyone else. Harry went to turn -
“Snap out of it, Harry!” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s eyes and scowled at him. Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen, and Harry could see her nipples. Harry glanced at Ron who was in a similar state and thankfully Hermione’s rear was covering the presence of Ron’s reaction. Hermione leaned over, giving Harry an unhindered view of her breasts, and Harry felt what every seventeen-year-old felt at the sight of breasts, unless he was into men. Harry cleared his throat and pulled the picture book over his lap. Hermione’s hand brushed the affected area as she flipped the page. It revealed a summer at Grimmauld Place and Harry’s moments with Sirius over the summer. Harry felt a bittersweet tinge in his chest that put a damper on the Hermione-induced arousal, and Harry fought back the bitter feelings Harry had over losing Sirius.
Harry looked blindly at the picture book that he no longer had interest in, while it held good memories - many of them at that - the horrid memories were overpowering. Harry looked at Ron, whose hands were clasped on Hermione’s hips as she leaned over Harry, and saw the face that had kept him sane for all these years. Harry knew that these two would be with him forever, even if he didn’t make it out of this alive. He loved them, he really did. Harry looked at Ron and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner and Ron furrowed his in a confused manner. Then suddenly as if he had an epiphany, Ron gave a single jerky nod. Looking back at Hermione who was turned and looking at the pictures smiling to herself, Harry grasped her chin and turned her to face him.
“Harry?” Hermione asked softly as he studied the face of the closest thing he had to a sister. Not that the feelings he had stirring were anything brotherly. Her hair was still wild and tended to frizz into an unmanageable mess during the late spring, but now she had finally found a way to control it. Her face had softened into that of a woman who wouldn’t be overly beautiful, but interesting enough to draw an eye or two.
“Do you think we’ll live through this? This search?” Harry whispered.
“I really can’t say. Even if I drew up enough charts to calculate the outcomes I can’t say.” Hermione grasped Harry’s arm in a loving grip. “I have to think positive though, because it really does affect the outcome.”
“Do you love me?” Harry said quickly. He felt Hermione start and Ron breathe in quickly. “Like you love Ron? That you would have both of us?” Harry studied Hermione’s eyes and found the turmoil and truth in his statements. Hermione’s eyes darted to Ron’s. “And you Ron, do you love me like you love Hermione?” Harry whispered, fearing the walls would carry his words. Harry’s ears strained to hear either of his friends say something. Ron broke first.
“Yes. You’re my best mate and if I were gay I’d bugger you every chance I got. I would rather bugger Hermione, but if she’s willing I’ll let you bugger her. I’d share anything with you Harry. Especially my life.” Ron took a hand off of Hermione’s hip and rest it on Harry’s shoulder.
“I love you like I love Ron, Harry. Different yet the same.” Hermione’s hands settled on Harry’s shoulders as she gazed at his face. Ron’s hands began their earlier exploration as one came to curl around the front of her hip, the other snuck up her shirt and Harry stared as it came to palm her breast. “I’ll love you both until I take my last breath.” Hermione’s lips sealed over Harry’s as she kissed him for the first, and last, time.
Suddenly the lights cut out and the three struggled to right their clothes. The train lurched to a stop and several screams could be heard outside. Harry snapped to attention and looked outside. The sun was still shining, clouds drifted by. What could possibly be wrong? Ron stood beside him gripping his wand tightly.
“What’s going on?” Ron muttered.
“Ron, Harry.” The soft exclamation behind them sent them turning to look in abject horror as Hermione settled her hands over a growing red stain on her shirt. Behind her stood the dull gleam of a familiar mask. It seems that the Death Eaters had found them. Hermione fell to the floor only to bleed her life away. Magic couldn’t fix a fist sized hole through your abdomen, and it couldn’t bring her back.
As Harry had experienced 17 years ago, the train car lit up in a bright green light and the words “Avada Kedavra” rang out in the startling clear summer day.
-fin-