Setting: Life after Hogwart's. Harry and Hermione as adults.
Pairing: Harry/Hermione and Harry/Draco
Rating: 12 - Hint at Slash
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. The song belongs to Queen. Nor do I own any of the quotes.
Author's Notes: A fic I wrote, whilst listening to Queen and chatting to Nat, so this is for her. Thanks for listening to me and helping me with my undecisiveness. As you can see, I didn't totally decide on anything
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me
I'm far away from home
And I've been facing this alone
For much too long
He was sat in the lounge, his head sloped backwards resting on a cream cushion which had been placed on the back of the sofa. His feet raised and rested on the glass topped coffee table, which acted as a center piece for the small room in which it sat.
The table had been given to them as a gift on their wedding day from Mrs Weasley, who happened to be their best friends mother. Mrs Weasley had bewitched the table so that it never needed cleaning, it's purpose being that Hermione would have less to do, so that the young couple could spend more time on important things, like the creations of a family, as Mrs Weasley had said herself. The only thing Mrs Weasley had not thought of was what happened to the mess which disappeared from the table? Liquid spilt on the magical item, simply trickled off of the surface, falling into a pool on the soft beige carpet, which inevitably took more cleaning than a quick wipe of a cloth. Thus meaning that the table was quite useless.
Hermione came in from the kitchen and seated herself next to her husband, she lay across the sofa, her head rested on Harry's chest, her hand gently caressing his stomach. He smiled down at her, slowly he moved his head towards her and placed his lips on hers. The pair locked together as they had done the moment they walked out of the main doors. That was the day they had become adults, it was the day that they had moved out of school and into the real world. It was the day they had declared their love for each other in front of the rest of the graduates. Two years later on that exact day, they were standing together, hand in hand, surrounded by friends and family, exchanging vows which would last a lifetime.
about growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
I've been looking back to find
Where I went wrong
Harry sat stroking Hermione's hair monotonously as she slept on his lap. He let his head flop backwards and closed his eyes. This was a regular occurance, each evening, for the couple. They would sleep in each others arms for a few hours, until one of them woke and then they would silently climb the stairs, curl up together and, once again, drift off.
Sleep came to Harry quickly that evening, events of his past flashed before his eyes as his chest rose and fell, his breathing louder as he slept.
'You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there'
He smiled subconsciously as he remember that first encounter, that smirk, that slick hair, pale cheeks, strong structure. Harry's heart skipped a beat as it always did when he thought of that boy. Harry shook himself awake, cold sweat making his sweater cling to his taut frame. Silently and carefully he lifted his lovers head and removed himself from the seat, placing a cushion where he had been rested, so as Hermione would not notice the difference and wake from her slumber. He crouched next to her momentarily, watching, her mousy curls lay softly on the pillow, her lips parted slightly as each breath withdrew from her body.
If you can't make up your mind
Torn between the lover
and the love you left behind
You're headed for disaster
Cos you never read the signs
His arms were folded on the table with his head rested upon them. Occasionally he would lift his head, only to bring it back down with a thud, trying to knock the memories and thoughts out of his mind. He stood up, quicker than he had intended, his vision blurred, the colour drained from his face as the room span before him. He reached for a glass which rested on it's rim by the sink, and with the tip of his wand, cold, clear water flowed into the glass. Harry drank it quickly as if he would die without it. He sat back down and was once again imersed in thoughts.
'Face you're partners!' He heard Lockhart call, as he stood on the platform. 'And bow!'
Harry inclined his head towards Malfoy, neither took their eyes off of each other.
Harry remembered that day, he remembered looking into those cold blue eyes, those eyes in which a fire burned everytime their gaze fell upon the 'boy who lived'. Harry was never sure if the fire belonged to his own eyes and were merely reflected in the stony face, or if in fact the boy who portrayed himself as such as hard, untouchable mand shared in the same feelings.
'I'm dying!' Malfoy yelled. 'I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!'
Harry had wanted to run to his side, he'd wanted to kiss those rosy lips, to whisper in his ear that everything would be ok, that they would be okay. Never in Harry's life had he been so worried, not even when Hermione had lain lifeless in the infirmary. Not even when he, Harry, had faced an almost certain death. He had known the day that the hippogriff had lashed out. It had always been inside of him, but it was that day that he knew he was in love with a boy, and it hurt. It hurt him to know that his feelings could never be revealed.
He walked to the door which led to the lounge and leant against the frame. He watched as Hermione turned in her sleep and his heart ached, it ached for the love of both of them. The boy he had known and the woman he had married. He watched as her hand groped the pillow beneath her head. On feeling it's soft touch and knowing that it was not his knee, she awoke and sat up. She furiously as her eyes adjusted to the light and her gaze fell upon his dark form, standing tall in the doorway. She indicated for him to come closer. He stood in front of her and she pulled him down towards her, placing her lips on his. He retreated and stood up straight. In the dim light, pouring in from the kitchen, Hermione could see how pale her husband was.
She stood up and held onto him as his body began to sway. Fear swept across her face, tears stained her cheeks as sweat covered his. His knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor, clutching at his chest, smashing the enchanted table as he fell, which refused to remove the blood from itself. It's spell was broken. Hermione sank to the floor and cradled her husband in her arms. His heart in pieces inside of him. Too much love will kill you.