Work Text:
My brother George was to marry Angelina next week.
Yes, we all thought Angelina had been going out with Fred for years, but no, she hadn't. It had been another one of their pranks of swapping with each other without anyone noticing. (I really hope she knew about it).
With the wedding just a few days away, the house should be a hive of frantic activity, but at the moment it was empty. Everyone was busy delivering invitations, doing last-minute shopping, or making must-see visits to relatives I'd never heard of.
There was only Harry and Ginny, who had gone for a walk (to the nearest hideaway for a romp, no doubt), and Hermione, who had been locked in Ginny's room for hours checking I don't know what, on the Hogwarts library branch that she had in her trunk.
Speaking of Hermione... Months since our first kiss and nothing had happened. My fault. I know.
In the months following the war, grief had taken over everything. The funerals had been heartbreaking: Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, and so many others. Then, Hermione returned to Hogwarts, and I began training at the Auror Academy. This wedding was the first chance we had to spend a few days together. And the only chance I was going to have, for a long time, to start my relationship with Hermione.
Of course, it was the kind of thing that is easier said than done. In the last few days, I had tried to talk to her several times, I had even tried to kiss her, but we were always interrupted, or something happened and we missed the opportunity, or I chickened out at the last moment, or... The list went on and on, endless. It was like a curse. But now we were alone, and surely Hermione would welcome a break. There had to be a limit to the number of books a person could read in a row before their brains exploded.
I began to climb the stairs - I had to make it this time! No backing out at the last moment. I've often thought that Hermione must have some kind of magical frightening-ward around her. The closer I get to her, the more cowardly I become.
When I got upstairs I saw that the door to Ginny's room was ajar. Strange music was coming from inside, probably Muggle music. A fast, almost tribal rhythm. I thought I could make out guitars, drums, something like a piano... Definitely Muggle.
A man and a woman were singing, alternating, to the rhythm of the song. One time one, another time the other, sometimes interrupting each other, sometimes both at the same time. I'd never heard anything like it before, such powerful music, and the lyrics couldn't have been more appropriate to the situation... mine and Hermione's.
It was probably not the right or smart thing to do, but curiosity has always got the better of me: Instead of knocking politely on the door, I carefully poked my head into the room. In the centre of the room, a silver disc was floating gently. That was where the music was coming from. Hermione was barefoot, standing on top of her bed with her eyes closed and swaying her hips, raising and lowering her arms and shaking her head to the melody.
I couldn't help but smile. No one could say that Hermione had rhythm running through in her veins, but to see her like that, dancing in such an uninhibited, innocent... and sensual way. I knew it wasn't right, that I was intruding on a private moment, but I couldn't help but approach her, like a moth is attracted to a flame.
She was still dancing, totally oblivious to everything going on around her. The sun illuminated her hair like a golden halo, surrounding her head as she shook her mane from side to side. I was already at the side of the bed, motionless, trying to record even the littlest detail in my memory: the warmth of the sun coming through the window, the noises from the garden, the music echoing in the room... and the woman I loved dancing on an unmade bed. It was one of those very rare perfect moments that life sometimes gives you. A moment I knew I would treasure for the rest of my life.
A few seconds later the music suddenly fell silent and Hermione opened her eyes to find me gawking at her.
"But... What are you doing here? Weren't you playing Quiddicht?" her face flushed furiously. "It was just a break, a dance...you know...to relax."
She began to push her hair out of her face, growing redder and redder. "It's a little hot, isn't it?"
I didn't answer anything, just slipped off my shoes and climbed onto the bed. I took her hands off her face and put them around my neck. Hermione froze: she knew what was going to happen, but she didn't say anything, she just looked at me, not taking those huge chocolate eyes from mine for a moment. I slid my arms slowly around her waist and pulled her to me. She not only didn't resist but stood on tiptoe and moved closer to me.
The music started playing again: It was the same strange song.
"I still haven't managed to get the spell to change to the next song." He whispered to me as our lips met.
We've never been a normal couple: Our first kiss happened in the middle of a war. The next hundred had a strange Muggle song playing over and over in the background. I guess that will make it 'our song':
AIN'T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH,
AIN'T NO VALLEY LOW ENOUGH,
AIN'T NO RIVER WIDE ENOUGH,
TO KEEP ME FROM GETTING TO YOU, BABE.