Between Friends
Dec. 15th, 2007 08:52 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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hp_misfitficsTitle: Between Friends
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
auntbijou
Rating: G
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Summary: True friends stand with you in bad times… and in good times, too.
Warning: Shmaltz…fluff…kinda… and it’s AU.
Words: 512
Disclaimer: I don’t own it, never have, never will, it all belongs to Rowling.
A/N: This is a drabble I wrote forinell quite some time ago, and I thought I’d touch it up a bit for posting. I hope you enjoy it!
The tiny buttons take forever to fasten.
When she saw the dress, she never took into account that her "maid of honor" would be nervous, and fumble-fingered. All she saw was that it was The Dress, that utterly perfect dress that was her, completely and totally her. Not too frilly, not too feminine, not too satiny or shiny, and definitely not making her look like some odd sort of living version of a puff pastry.
"Hermione, I don't think I can do this."
She smiles to herself, knowing he isn’t talking about the row of tiny buttons at the back that he’s trying to fasten. It wasn't easy finding this vintage Laura Ashley gown, but it’s perfect, and she smiles over her shoulder at him. "Harry, you're doing just fine. Really."
"Why didn't you ask Ginny?" He pauses to wipe his hands on his trousers and starts buttoning again, his jaw set with determination.
"Because she's my friend... but she's not my best friend, Harry." Hermione faces the mirror. "We've been through it all, Harry. We've looked into Hell and come back, all of us together. Who else should I have standing at my side when I marry Ron? Who else should I have here with me, helping me dress? Who else could look at me, as I am, and... and see me?"
His hands stop, and then they’re on her shoulders, fingers moving lightly over her scars, scars that she has refused to hide. "They're badges of honor, Hermione," he says softly, stroking them and his eyes meet hers in the mirror. "They don't take away from you at all. You're beautiful, you're strong, you're smart... you are my hero, Hermione. Really, you truly are."
She smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with tears and she reaches up to squeeze his hand. "And that's why you are my maid of honor..."
"Man of honor," he corrects her with that nervous smile of his.
"Man of honor," she amends with a mischievous grin, "instead of Ginny, who can't help the 'Poor Hermione' all over her face."
Harry grins back at her, then slips his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watches her in the mirror. "A right pair we make, don't we?"
"Good thing we have Ron to handle us," she agrees.
He nods, then kisses her cheek, his lips right on the scar left by the knife Bellatrix tried to use to kill her. Too bad it failed, with that same knife buried to the hilt through Bellatrix' left eye. Hermione was a practical girl, and didn't tolerate sloppiness. She closes her eyes, letting her best friend comfort her.
He squeezes her gently, then steps back. "Right then. I'll try this again, shall I?"
She smiles. "Yes. You defeated the most evil wizard known to man. Surely you can button up the back of my dress."
"Definitely." And he sets back to it again. When he’s finally done, they stand back from the mirror to admire the affect.
It really is a most beautiful dress.
Author:
auntbijouRating: G
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Summary: True friends stand with you in bad times… and in good times, too.
Warning: Shmaltz…fluff…kinda… and it’s AU.
Words: 512
Disclaimer: I don’t own it, never have, never will, it all belongs to Rowling.
A/N: This is a drabble I wrote for
inell quite some time ago, and I thought I’d touch it up a bit for posting. I hope you enjoy it!The tiny buttons take forever to fasten.
When she saw the dress, she never took into account that her "maid of honor" would be nervous, and fumble-fingered. All she saw was that it was The Dress, that utterly perfect dress that was her, completely and totally her. Not too frilly, not too feminine, not too satiny or shiny, and definitely not making her look like some odd sort of living version of a puff pastry.
"Hermione, I don't think I can do this."
She smiles to herself, knowing he isn’t talking about the row of tiny buttons at the back that he’s trying to fasten. It wasn't easy finding this vintage Laura Ashley gown, but it’s perfect, and she smiles over her shoulder at him. "Harry, you're doing just fine. Really."
"Why didn't you ask Ginny?" He pauses to wipe his hands on his trousers and starts buttoning again, his jaw set with determination.
"Because she's my friend... but she's not my best friend, Harry." Hermione faces the mirror. "We've been through it all, Harry. We've looked into Hell and come back, all of us together. Who else should I have standing at my side when I marry Ron? Who else should I have here with me, helping me dress? Who else could look at me, as I am, and... and see me?"
His hands stop, and then they’re on her shoulders, fingers moving lightly over her scars, scars that she has refused to hide. "They're badges of honor, Hermione," he says softly, stroking them and his eyes meet hers in the mirror. "They don't take away from you at all. You're beautiful, you're strong, you're smart... you are my hero, Hermione. Really, you truly are."
She smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with tears and she reaches up to squeeze his hand. "And that's why you are my maid of honor..."
"Man of honor," he corrects her with that nervous smile of his.
"Man of honor," she amends with a mischievous grin, "instead of Ginny, who can't help the 'Poor Hermione' all over her face."
Harry grins back at her, then slips his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watches her in the mirror. "A right pair we make, don't we?"
"Good thing we have Ron to handle us," she agrees.
He nods, then kisses her cheek, his lips right on the scar left by the knife Bellatrix tried to use to kill her. Too bad it failed, with that same knife buried to the hilt through Bellatrix' left eye. Hermione was a practical girl, and didn't tolerate sloppiness. She closes her eyes, letting her best friend comfort her.
He squeezes her gently, then steps back. "Right then. I'll try this again, shall I?"
She smiles. "Yes. You defeated the most evil wizard known to man. Surely you can button up the back of my dress."
"Definitely." And he sets back to it again. When he’s finally done, they stand back from the mirror to admire the affect.
It really is a most beautiful dress.
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Date: 2007-12-17 01:13 pm (UTC)And I usually don't even like Harry. Wow.
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Date: 2007-12-29 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 12:05 am (UTC)