Work Text:
Harry could’ve taken the floo. Hermione had connected their floo to the one in his office at Hogwarts so they could easily visit each other, though he didn't take advantage of the opportunity much these days.
But it was winter break now. When he’d left, the castle was blanketed in freshly fallen snow. He saw some students outside making snowmen, but most opted to take advantage of the warm, quiet castle and sleep in.
He could’ve come earlier than today. He knew they’d be happy to see him anytime. He could just pop round for dinner one evening and they’d pick up like it was old times.
He never did, though, and they eventually stopped asking after him as much. It got easier with time to fade into the background. Their lives became fuller and busier. They didn’t have as much time to call upon him, though he never blamed them. After all, it’s what he preferred.
Harry was happy for them. He truly was, but that didn’t make it any less hard to see Ron and Hermione so blissfully in love. He’d known for ages that Ron had a crush on Hermione, before he’d mentioned it to him. It was clear by third year that something was developing. By fourth, after the Yule Ball, Ron wouldn’t stop talking about Hermione, finding ways to mention her whenever he opened his mouth. He couldn’t blame him, though. Everyone started seeing her differently after the Yule Ball, including him.
At first, he thought it was just a silly crush. He thought he’d be over it by the end of the year. It wasn’t worth mentioning. Harry knew Ron’s insecurities, and he didn’t want to make it an issue when he also liked Cho, too. Then, he and Ginny got together, and that was going well for a while until they went on the run.
But then Ron had to go a fuck everything up. He just up and left during the Horcrux hunt, leaving him and Hermione alone in the woods. He told her to leave. He didn’t want to drag her down with him, but she was too bloody stubborn. Too loyal. Too perfect.
So, she stayed, and his crush washed over him again tenfold. For a moment, when they were all alone, listening to whatever music they could find as they tightly embraced one another, barely swaying to the tune, he thought she might feel the same way.
Ron came back the next day.
Yet still, like an idiot, he had hope. Maybe, after all was said and done, the universe might gift him this. Maybe if he fought hard enough, if he won fast enough, that small spark that he knew was there wouldn’t be snuffed out.
But he hadn’t given Ron enough credit. Harry had only just admitted to himself that he might want this crush to live outside his head. He’d only recently realized that he might have a shot. Ron had known for some time what his intentions were with Hermione.
She’d had an effect on him, too. He’d been paying attention to her for a while. He’d become a better person because of her, and when he mentioned evacuating the house elves at the final battle and Hermione kissed him in the middle of everything, Harry knew their moment had passed.
When they first got together, he thought their relationship would fade with time. They’d realize they were better off as friends and go back to the way things were. But that was just wishful thinking. Watching them grow together, he could see their love was one meant to last. One that would go the distance.
He tried to move on, to be happy with Ginny, but they never got the timing right. There were others, too, that came in and out of his life, but none that ever stuck. None that stayed with him. Maybe it was him. Maybe he was destined to want what he couldn’t have.
It was fine. Harry was used to being alone.
The door swung open after the first knock. The warm light from inside cast her in a heavenly glow. Her riotous curls fanned out like a halo around her. The black sweater dress she was wearing hugged her curves, showing off her slightly rounded stomach where her hands rested.
“Harry Potter, as I live and breathe!” she teased, pulling him in for a hug. She smelled the same. Hints of honeysuckle, spearmint, and vanilla filled his nose as her curls blocked his vision for a moment.
Too soon, Hermione pulled away. “Hey, Mi. Happy Christmas.”
He followed her inside, closing the door behind him and removing his shoes. “Happy Christmas, Harry! It’s been too long since we’ve gotten together.”
“Where’s Ron?” Harry asked, surprised his oldest friend hadn’t greeted him yet.
“He got called in to the office a few hours ago. An emergency strategy meeting, but he should be home shortly. In the meantime, you’ve got little old me,” she laughed as she led him into the living room, and he never thought he’d hear a better sound in his lifetime. “Sit, sit! Let me get you a drink.”
He obediently sat on the love seat by the bay window that faced their front walkway, taking in the space around him. It was a blend of comfort colors and soft fabrics that reminded him of both the Burrow and the Gryffindor common room, and of something he knew was uniquely Hermione. Books were scattered about on every surface, but there were also half-filled notebooks with Ron’s scratchy writing, a broom placed against the wall, and a telly facing opposite the couch.
The fire was roaring, and several candles were casting a warm glow about the room. There were four stockings hanging from the mantle. One for Hermione, one for Ron, one for Crookshanks, and another that was unlabeled. The Christmas tree was in the corner near the fireplace, half-decorated, with a few open cardboard boxes sitting around it.
Hermione walked back into the room carrying two steaming mugs. She handed him one of the mugs as she sat down on the opposite side of the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. “It’s an Irish coffee. I thought you could use a drink after dealing with so many kids for the last four months. Hopefully, none of them are as bad as we were in school.”
He snorted, taking a long sip from his mug. “They’re not bad, but I never thought I’d have to have so many conversations about how to properly use deodorant. Puberty is my new mortal enemy, and far scarier than any dark wizard.” She laughed again, throwing her head back, as she relaxed further into the cushions and her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. “You look good, Mi.”
“Pshh,” she dismissed, flicking her hand.
“I’m being serious. Everyone always says it, but you really are glowing.”
She smiled, taking a sip from her mug. “Thanks, Harry, and you don’t look too bad yourself, Deputy Headmaster.”
He rolled his eyes at her use of his new title, but he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. “How far along are you?”
Hermione placed a hand on her stomach, smiling down at her small bump. “Sixteen weeks. We just found out yesterday that she’s a girl.”
Harry grinned, “That’s lovely. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m so bloody nervous,” she confessed in a whisper. “I’ve been reading every parenting book I can get my hands on, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”
“You’re going to be a great mum,” he assured, giving her knee a squeeze. “You already are.”
Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. Finally, she said, “We decided on a name. Well, it isn’t official yet. Ron wants to wait to announce it in case we change our mind. But I know it’s perfect.”
“What is it?”
“Rose,” she breathed.
“That’s beautiful, Mi. Really beautiful.” He meant it, too. It was the perfect name.
Hermione wiped at her eyes once more before changing the subject. “Enough about us, how are you, love?”
He thought his heart would skip a beat in his chest at the familiar moniker, but it stayed steadily beating. “I’m good. The promotion’s given me more responsibility, but I like it. I feel like I’m making a difference.”
“I’m so glad. I always knew you’d be an excellent teacher. If you recall, I’m the one who convinced you to take on your first class of students when we formed Dumbledore’s Army,” she joked, but she wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah, I remember. You tend to be right about most things.”
“It is one of my superpowers.” She waggled her eyebrows then and he snorted.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each taking sips from their mugs. “So, what’s with the half-done tree?” Harry finally asked, breaking the quiet.
“Oh! Ron and I just put it up today. We were decorating it before you arrived, but then he got called away.” After a moment, Hermioned asked, “Do you want to help me finish it?”
“You’re sure Ron won’t mind?”
“Don’t be silly. He’ll be happy you took it off his hands. It’s never been his favorite Christmas activity.”
“Okay. I’d love to help.”
Standing, Hermione took his empty mug from him and whisked both to the kitchen. Harry started pilfering through the boxes, looking at the various globes, photos, and art projects with a hole punched through them and some ribbon tied through it.
“These are cute,” he said, holding up a photo of Hermione and her parents outside of King's Cross station.
“Yeah, sometimes it feels like these photos are all I have left of them. Sometimes, I wish I could go back and undo the past, but then who knows how it would affect the future? Who knows if we’d be alive, if I’d still be married to Ron, if we’d have Rose?”
Harry wrapped her in a hug. He understood better than most how she felt, and she knew that. He didn’t need to voice his pain. “They’d be really proud of you. I know they would,” he whispered into her temple with a gentle kiss.
Hermione breathed deeply, resting her head on his shoulder. They stood there for a minute, in the quiet intimacy of the moment, and Harry was ashamed because he could see it. He could see what this alternate reality with her looked like– what it might be like if the past was changed. At times, he thought he wanted it, but looking at her now, pregnant and in love, he found the image to be faded along the edges, as if it were receding. So, he let her go.
Hermione quickly wiped her tears away. “Well, enough of that. Let’s decorate!” She moved to the radio, tuning it until she found a station playing Christmas music and turned it up. Harry worked to hand her ornaments and place some of his own, and they fell easily into a rhythm together. Their movements synced as they danced around each other. Time flew by. He was happy.
“I think we just have the star,” Harry commented, standing back to assess the tree after looking through all of the boxes and finding no other ornaments.
“I think you’re right. Here, help me with the ladder,” Hermione replied. Hermione started up the ladder, with Harry’s hand lightly hovering over her back before he handed her the star. She reached up, dangling slightly on one foot, and he quickly adjusted so both of his hands were securely on her waist in case she fell. When she was finished, she leaned back, placing both hands on the ladder, but Harry didn’t pull away immediately. “That’s perfect.”
He thought it would be, but she didn’t feel the same as she had when they’d last danced. He let her go again.
The floo wooshed to life then, ending the moment as he pushed his hands into his pockets. Ron walked through, dusting off the residual ash from his red auror robes. Hermione ran the few steps to him and jumped, and he easily caught her in one arm, leaning down to kiss her as she wrapped her hands around his neck.
They disentangled from each other, and Ron moved around her to greet him. “Harry! Great to see you, mate. It’s been too long.” They clasped each other on the back in a big bear hug.
“Great to see you, too, Ronny boy,” Harry laughed, happy to see his best friend. Ron was still tall, but he was no longer lanky. He’d put on several pounds over the years, but it was all muscle, and he walked with an assuredness that Harry wasn’t used to seeing on him.
“What’d I miss?” he asked, looking between the two of them as he shrugged out of his robes and sent them soaring up the stairs.
“We finished decorating the tree!” Hermione said, pulling him over to look at it.
Ron took his time examining it as if it were the most important thing in the room. “It’s beautiful, love. You both did a great job, but I wish that you’d use magic to put the star on like I suggested instead of using the ladder. I don’t want you to slip and hurt yourself.”
Hermione lightly swatted his arm. “Please, Ronald. I can take care of myself, and I told you already that using magic takes the Christmas magic out of it. It has to be done the Muggle way. Plus, Harry was here, so I was perfectly safe. He helped me.”
Ron lightly flicked her nose with his forefinger as he smiled down at her before they both turned back to Harry. “How’re you doing, Harry? I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other.”
“Yeah, it feels that way, but I’m doing good.”
“Oh, before I forget, let me get the cookies and treacle tart Mum made for you. She knows it’s your favorite. Please, take a seat. Make yourself at home. Sweetheart, do you mind helping me?” Ron asked, and he and Hermione disappeared into the kitchen.
Harry poured himself two fingers of firewhisky from the cart in the corner before taking a seat on the larger couch facing the telly. Hermione and Ron returned shortly, with Ron levitating the cookies and treacle tart, while Hermione levitated a tray of meats, cheeses, jams, breads, and plates.
“I completely forgot I made this for your visit! Please, dig in, Harry,” Hermione said, handing him a plate and sitting down. Ron took a plate and filled it with a variety of snacks before handing it to Hermione and starting on a second for himself. Harry did as he was instructed, grabbing different snacks for himself.
Once he’d eaten his fill, Harry asked, “So, Ron, how’s the ministry?”
“It’s good,” Ron said between his final bites before placing his and Hermione’s plates on the coffee table. “We’re currently working on a poaching case. Some dirwical eggs went missing. Actually, love,” he turned to Hermione then, giving her thigh a light squeeze. “I was going to ask you later if we could borrow Smith for a few days next week. We need someone from the DRCMC to visit the staging areas and see if they can determine any other animals or objects that might’ve been held there.”
“You don’t want me to come?” Hermione pouted, but Ron just chuckled as he pulled her under his arm, kissing the top of his head. She easily reciprocated his affection, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his chest.
“You’re always my first choice, but McLaggen’s also assigned to this one, unfortunately.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Zaccharias will be available to assist you for as long as you need.”
“Mhmm, thank you, Madam Department Head,” Ron smiled, turning back to Harry. “It’s weird, being an auror without you. When we both started training together, I never pictured us not being partners. You know, you’re always welcome back if you ever get bored at Hogwarts.”
“Hush, Ronald,” Hermione jumped in before Harry could respond. “You’re talking to the longest-running DADA professor in the last decade and the new Deputy Headmaster! I think Harry’s doing just fine at Hogwarts.”
“That’s right, congrats on the promotion. That’s bloody incredible. Beating the DADA curse, though, that isn’t even in the top ten for you, huh? What was a curse really going to do to The Boy Who Lived?” Harry chuckled. He’d thought the same when he started, and he was reminded of how much he missed his best friend.
“That’s what I told Minerva when I joined the staff. She wanted to hire a metaphysical curse-breaker, but I convinced her I would be okay. I mean, come on. It’s me.”
“Yeah, what’s a hypothetical curse going to do to you when you had Voldemort living inside of your mind for most of your life?” Ron replied, and Harry nodded in agreement.
“Alright, that’s enough about curses and Voldemort. Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. “Tell me about you, Harry. Is there anyone special in your life now? Didn’t you reconnect with Padma recently?”
Harry fidgeted with his wristwatch. “Yeah, we went on a few dates, but we realized we’re better off as friends. There just wasn’t a spark.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hermione said dejectedly, and he knew that she really meant it.
Harry waved a hand dismissively. It wasn’t Padma’s fault. They’d gone on a few dates in September. At the time, he’d thought she was lovely, but that she could never be her.
Looking at Hermione now, though, Harry wondered if he’d held on to the past for too long. If, perhaps, he was measuring all of these dates to a woman who no longer existed. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to move on, because moving on meant accepting that, for once in his life, he wasn’t meant to be the hero of this story.
Hermione was the same, but she was also different. Ron, too, had shifted throughout the years. But they had shifted together, realigning their parts to form a whole. Maybe he’d been so preoccupied with being in love with the girl from the tent, the girl from his past, that he hadn’t held any space for the woman she’d become. He hadn’t taken measure of how he’d changed, how his life and his goals had shifted, and how someone might fill that hole.
“You should let me set you up on a blind date. We’ve got a new auror in the office. Transfer from MACUSA. I think you two would hit it off,” Ron offered.
“Oh, yes. Elizabeth is lovely.” Hermione chimed in. “Maybe we could do a double date before hols end? Or if that’s too forward, we could invite several people over for drinks, and you could see if you two hit it off?”
Harry stared his remaining firewhiskey, seriously considering their offer, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready yet. “Thank you both. With the new promotion, I’m rather busy right now, but I might take you up on that offer some other time.”
“Sure, Harry, whenever you want.”
Harry took the opportunity to change the subject to something more familiar. “How’s the family, Ron?”
“They’re all good. Mum and Dad are over the moon about another grandkid coming next year. She’s already started knitting baby blankets and onesies. Ginny’s still busy traveling the world with Luna. I think they’re in Paraguay right now. George and Angelina just expanded their joke shop in Hogsmeade, I’m sure you know about that, and Bill, Percy, and Charlie are all good. Just up to the same old with them. They all miss you. Mum sends her love.”
“I miss them, too.”
Conversation flowed easily after that, and Harry felt lighter, happier. It was almost like it used to be with the three of them joking around and talking late into the night by the Gryffindor fireplace. Almost the same. But whenever Hermione would laugh, burrowing her head into the crook of Ron’s neck, or when Ron absentmindedly stroked her waist as he was talking to Harry, their free hands intertwined together in his lap, he remembered how things had changed.
They were a duo, about to form a new trio of their own. He would forever be on the outside, looking in. It wasn’t so bad, though. He’d learned early on that people come and people go. The best you can do is treasure the memories made along the way, and maybe, just maybe, he was ready to make new memories of his own with someone else.
After a few hours, Harry slowly stood. “Well, I really should be going.”
Hermione and Ron stood from their loveseat. “Hey, before you go, we wanted to invite you to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas lunch, and don’t even think about saying that you don’t want to intrude. The whole family would love to see you. Mum’s made you a sweater already, and you know she makes enough extra food to feed us all twice over.”
“I wish I could, but I’m going to see Andromeda and Teddy tomorrow for breakfast before heading back to the castle to relieve Neville of his post so he can go spend Christmas day with Pansy and his gran. Plus, I like being at Hogwarts for Christmas. I know what it’s like to not have a family you can or want to go home to over the hols, and I don’t want them to be lonely. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stayed with me that first year, and I want to make sure none of the kids ever feel alone if I can help it.” Ron clapped him on the back, likely thinking of the same memories as him.
“We could always come visit you there tomorrow, so you don’t have to be alone either,” Hermione offered, squeezing his hand.
“No, you don’t need to do that. It would be such a hassle.”
Ron scoffed. “Being there for family is never a hassle. Well, actually, it really can be, especially when I have to be there for Percy. But you’re never a hassle, mate. I actually like spending time with you.”
Harry barked out a laugh, shaking his head.
“Seriously, guys, I’m fine. I’m going to see you two at Nev’s New Year's party anyway, right?”
“Yes, we’ll be there. But if you change your mind, you know how to contact us. We could always use an excuse to dip out before George unleashes his newest prank, and I’m forced to go to work with pink-tinted skin again. I look like a bloody raspberry!” Ron said, agitation lacing his voice.
Harry smirked, trying to hide his laugh when Ron’s face started becoming naturally red on its own.
“You did, but you were a very cute, very strong, very respectable raspberry,” Hermione said, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze.
Watching them, Harry’s heart ached, but he didn’t think it was for the girl he’d lost.
They walk him to the door, letting him slip his shoes on before they both barreled into him, forcing him into a group hug. He let out a grunt, but easily returned it. However, when he went to pull away, he found his feet were stuck to the spot.
“What’s going on? I can’t move,” Harry asked, befuddled, as he looked around. Hermione and Ron tried to pull away, too, but found they were also trapped to their spot on the floor.
“Oh, no. Ron!” Hermione groaned, pointing up a the floating mistletoe that was now dangling above all of their heads.
“Ugh! I thought I got rid of it all! One must’ve been hiding in the rafters, biding its time.”
“What is it?”
“Trick mistletoe. The newest wheezes prank. It doesn’t hang where you can see. Instead, it hides and waits for the perfect time to dangle above someone’s head, holding them in place until they kiss.”
Hermione pecked Ron on the lips, and they were released from the mistletoe’s hold, but when Harry tried to move again, he found he was still trapped. “Well, fuck,” Harry muttered, looking between his two friends.
Hermione and Ron looked at each other before Ron held his hands up in the air and backed up a step. “Don’t look at me. I love you, Harry, but not that much.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Hermione mumbled before striding over to Harry, grabbing his face, and planting a kiss on his lips.
Her lips on his were soft, and the kiss, as short as it was tender and sweet. But it wasn’t earth-shattering. It didn’t change him on a chemical level. It was exactly what kissing an old friend should feel like.
Harry was shocked. Oh, what a fool he’d been. He’d been pining over a love that didn’t exist outside of his own head. This changed everything.
“Did it work?” Hermione asked when Harry still didn’t move. “Ron, I think you might have to give it a go.”
“Ugh, fine, but you have to promise not to fall in love with me after I rock your world.” Before Harry could react, Ron had planted a kiss on his lips. It was rougher, firmer, but also not entirely unpleasant. “Did it work?” Ron asked, stepping away from him and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Er, yeah. Thanks, mate,” Harry replied before wiping his mouth, too. “Well, that seems like a good place to call it. And, I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to meet Elizabeth. I’ll owl you my availability.”
“Smashing! You’re going to love her, Harry. Like you said earlier, I’m right about most things.”
He gave them a final wave as he walked out the door and down the walkway. Glancing back, he saw they’d move back to the living room. Ron had taken Hermione in his arms, and she’d rested her head on his shoulder as they slow-danced together, oblivious to everything besides each other.
He turned away again, a small grin forming on his face, thinking about what one should wear on a double date.
