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The grass beneath them was beginning to dew. They hadn’t planned on staying out so late but the woods outside the Burrow were so comforting and the stars so welcoming that there was no point fighting it. Hermione was trying to think back to how the night started; how they ended up in each other’s arms.
Was it the firewhiskey? Or simply the sweet words whispered in comfort after a particularly bad break up? No, none of that mattered. It was inevitable, the two of them. The small touches over the years; heated words exchanged with bated breath, the underlying hope that the other would finally take the hint. Make a move.
Well, it worked! Here the newly minted couple laid with limbs entangled, her head on his chest, fingertips gently circling the skin exposed by lifted shirts, and contentment laced through their breaths.
He had never cared much for astronomy at Hogwarts; there were more important things to worry about. Class? Sure. Quidditch? Most definitely. Pranks? One Hundred Percent. But there was something new in the stars when he felt the small smile and erratic heartbeat of the woman beside him. It was like the stars held an answer to the question he’d been too afraid to ask. The thought gave him pause. Stealing a glance at his girlfriend, he was shocked she even gave him the time of day let alone this affection. Swooping down to kiss the top of her head, he was startled by her sudden jerk upwards to a seated position.
“Fred! Did you see that?” Hermione asked excitedly, pointing to the starry night they’d previously enjoyed. The redhead rushed to see where the witch was pointing.
A streak marred the sky above. It was bright, stunning, and a wish come true; a shooting star. Though Fred would call it Hermione’s mirror.
“What’d you wish for?” She asked, her brown eyes gleaming like she held a secret he was desperate to know.
“I can’t tell you that!” He replied, mock offense afflicting his face, “It’d nullify it. Then I’d never get my wish!” Hermione rolled her eyes though her smirk wasn’t quite as hidden as she thought it was.
“Whatever, then I’m not telling you mine,” She huffed, getting back into their original position. Staring at the stars had always come as a comfort to her. Ever since her father taught her the most basic constellations at six years old, she felt connected to her cosmic brethren. Like if she tried hard enough she could reach out and touch them, hand grazing the dust of space when she returns to where she belongs.
What the pair wouldn’t tell each other (and what the stars kept secret) was that their wishes weren’t just connected, they were identical, and the stars would keep their promise in making it true for many happy years to come. Not that it was particularly hard for these two soulmates.