fic: ritual at dusk (harry potter; h/hr; rating: pg)

Nov 13, 2007 14:01

Title: ritual at dusk
Author: lily_268
Rating: pg
WC: 500
Summary: They met at dusk, when the sky was showcasing its most brilliant colours.
Spoilers: up to Deathly Hallows
Characters: Harry/Hermione
Author's Notes: written for infiniteskies, prompt: "remember me as a time of day"



In the mornings he was too groggy from lack of sleep due to a long night at a raid or just hanging out at the pub; it took minutes for his eyes to focus on anything more than the tea that was shoved under his nose. In the evenings she had her hair knotted up on top of her head while needles clicked away and pages turned furiously.

Both their afternoons were spent at work or play; Harry making time for a pick-up game of Quidditch when he could and Hermione visiting old friends and professors every week.

For anyone else, it would be impossible to see each other at all, but their meetings were more than luxury - they were necessary. What would Harry have done when Theodore first rebelled against his godfather if Hermione had not been there? Who else would Hermione talk to when she first found out she was pregnant? It was more than a convenience; it was a ritual that cleansed them both enough to return refreshed to their hectic lives.

They met at dusk, when the sky was showcasing its most brilliant colours. They could talk about their troubles and fears, nightmares of the past, worries of bullies in their children’s classes. Mostly it was an unspoken nostalgia for the past that no-one else could understand.

So they sat in cafes, libraries, offices, park benches and the Underground every week to honour the time they had battled alone, like two soldiers keeping a secret underneath their everyday actions. He would hold her hand in his, gently stroking with his thumb while she leaned her head on his shoulder, their voices never needing to rise above a whisper, their thoughts never having to stray too far before being received by the other. Through the changes of their lives it was something that was comfortable, something deeper than home, family and friendship.

She still chided him for not knowing his history, lecturing him on the errors of his ways with Greek tragic heroes or British folklore. It was remarkable how she could relate every problem to a different mythology and keep her point cohesive. Later he would find himself repeating her words as lessons to his children, smiling as he remembered the mistakes he had to learn from.

He still teased her about passion, holding firm in his opinion that it could be felt for a sport or sports team. She tried to wave away with her hand the loyalties to a game before changing the subject to her latest crusade for justice. Later, she would stop mid-sentence at a rally, looking out at the fervor of the crowd, finally realizing that maybe it’s all the same. Maybe one doesn’t have to be more important than the other. Maybe they can make up Life together out of games and work; fun and learning; family and the world. That year she bought him season tickets and went to every home match that she could.

It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of their busy lives, but it was stable and easy. It was enough.

fic, bk:harry potter, ship:harry/hermione, rating:pg

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