ahhh! disclaimer: I haven't written fic in ages, and I'm not sure this is what you were looking for at all, but uh. here it is anyway! thanks for the awesome prompt.
Joy is not supposed to be something they ration anymore—it’s been years now—but Harry finds the habit hard to break. No one who knows war can believe in the end of it.
For Harry, even little things, like openly eating birthday cake, are still novel. He cannot imagine that their love for him, not a little thing at all, will ever stop feeling novel. And he loves them back, both of them, beyond the telling of it, so their wedding has all the lavish trappings of peacetime happiness. He plans it for them, and he pays—his gift, he tells them. Please let me, he says.
Ron refuses to let him, wants to wait until he’s saved up enough. He holds out for months, ignoring anyone who says anything, until finally he and Hermione have a screaming row about it. It’s not about money at all, the row, and they all know it. But Ron concedes eventually—too in love with Hermione to do anything else, Harry imagines.
Harry consults Kreacher, and Ginny and Mrs Weasley both insist on helping, too, but he does most of the work himself. Rita Skeeter would make it out to be something sordid—LOVELORN HERO PLANS VICARIOUS WEDDING! SEE INSIDE THE BETRAYAL OF THE TRINITY! GUILT AND MASOCHISM APLENTY!—but really it isn’t like that. It isn’t big enough to be like that.
It’s a quiet thing, undramatic. She’s brilliant, god, so brilliant and so beautiful in every conceivable way, so competent and sure even when she doesn’t want to be, and he wants so badly for her to be happy. It seems like the least he can do.
He does think about it sometimes, while he’s planning. He chooses a pure venue for them, one not saturated with the shadows of war or filled with still-echoing hatred, and it’s impossible not to think about it. They would have married in the Forest, maybe. They might have never married. They might have carved themselves out a world they could stand.
Everything would have been just a notch different, but somehow it would have changed everything. He reminds himself that love is the constant across these worlds, these choices, and that this is something to be grateful for.
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timeasmymeasure
harry/hermione - the thing to do (1/2)
Date: 2010-11-26 04:43 am (UTC)Joy is not supposed to be something they ration anymore—it’s been years now—but Harry finds the habit hard to break. No one who knows war can believe in the end of it.
For Harry, even little things, like openly eating birthday cake, are still novel. He cannot imagine that their love for him, not a little thing at all, will ever stop feeling novel. And he loves them back, both of them, beyond the telling of it, so their wedding has all the lavish trappings of peacetime happiness. He plans it for them, and he pays—his gift, he tells them. Please let me, he says.
Ron refuses to let him, wants to wait until he’s saved up enough. He holds out for months, ignoring anyone who says anything, until finally he and Hermione have a screaming row about it. It’s not about money at all, the row, and they all know it. But Ron concedes eventually—too in love with Hermione to do anything else, Harry imagines.
Harry consults Kreacher, and Ginny and Mrs Weasley both insist on helping, too, but he does most of the work himself. Rita Skeeter would make it out to be something sordid—LOVELORN HERO PLANS VICARIOUS WEDDING! SEE INSIDE THE BETRAYAL OF THE TRINITY! GUILT AND MASOCHISM APLENTY!—but really it isn’t like that. It isn’t big enough to be like that.
It’s a quiet thing, undramatic. She’s brilliant, god, so brilliant and so beautiful in every conceivable way, so competent and sure even when she doesn’t want to be, and he wants so badly for her to be happy. It seems like the least he can do.
He does think about it sometimes, while he’s planning. He chooses a pure venue for them, one not saturated with the shadows of war or filled with still-echoing hatred, and it’s impossible not to think about it. They would have married in the Forest, maybe. They might have never married. They might have carved themselves out a world they could stand.
Everything would have been just a notch different, but somehow it would have changed everything. He reminds himself that love is the constant across these worlds, these choices, and that this is something to be grateful for.