Fireflies
A Harry & Hermione Story
By Hermione Potter1990
Based on “Fireflies” by Faith Hill.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy and a little girl. They were the best of friends, growing up on the same street and going to the same school. They even had plans to marry each other when they grew up. But one day, that all changed. . . it all changed the day that he moved away.
“Why do you have to go?” Eight-year-old Hermione Granger asked, staring into her bowl of coffee ice cream.
“I don’t know. Aunt Petunia says that life is full of partings.”
“That’s not a very good reason to leave,” said Hermione.
Eight-in-a-half Harry Potter sighed softly. “I don’t think it’s a reason at all.”
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and watched a tear splash on the table.
“You’re the only one who likes me,” Hermione choked.
And then Harry started to cry too. “We’ll meet again someday.”
“Promise?”
“I promise!” Harry wrapped his pinky around Hermione’s. “And until we meet again, I’m going to pretend that you’re always next to me.”
“Who’s going to play Prince and Princess with me?”
“You’re not allowed to play Princess and Prince with anybody else except for me,” answered Harry, “you’re not allowed to play any of our games with anybody else except for me.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart and swear to die.”
“Good.” Harry took her hand. “I—”
“Harry—” Dr. (Mrs.) Granger poked her head into the dining room. “Your uncle and aunt are here.”
“Thank you Dr. Granger.” Harry swallowed.
“Time to say goodbye?” Hermione asked quietly.
“No, it’s just time to say, see you later.”
They both stood up.
“I’ll see you later Harry.”
“See you—” Harry faltered, pulled Hermione into a tight embrace and then ran from the room.
Hermione followed him and the last thing that Harry saw was her tear-streaked face pressed up against the window. And then he too succumbed to the blinding tears.
Three Years Later:
“A boy named Neville has lost his toad. Have any of you seen it?”
Harry looked up; he knew that voice from somewhere. And then, he saw her standing in the doorway. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t form any words.
“We haven’t seen a toad,” Harry’s new friend, Ronald Weasly, said. “Now get lost.”
Harry stood up. “I’ll help you look. For the toad.”
“You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” she asked as they walked along the train’s hallways. “I’ve read all about you.”
“But you know me better then anybody,” Harry said.
“No,” she answered. “But I’d like too—”
“Hermione,” Harry started.
“How do you know my name?”
“Lucky guess,” Harry lied quickly.
“Oh.” Hermione grinned. “I have a feeling we’ll be GREAT friends!”
Harry smiled back. “Me too.”
Seven Years Later:
“I can’t believe we’re eighteen,” Hermione said as she and Harry ate dinner together one Friday night.
“Me either,” Harry replied. “Hermione, I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Do you have any memories of when you were eight?”
“Yes,” Hermione answered slowly. “I have lots of them.”
“What’s one of your most particular memories?”
“A boy,” replied Hermione, “we were best friends. . . we used to do everything together. But then he moved away.”
“I was that boy,” Harry said.
Hermione’s heart stopped beating for a moment. “No. . . you weren’t that boy. You died. That boy died.” She got up and ran away from the table.
He found her outside, clutching her neck and sobbing. “Hermione. . .” he sat down beside her.
“A couple of weeks after he left, I called him. But his cousin said that he had died. That he had been kidnapped and murdered.” Hermione took a deep breath. “I was eight-year-old, I adored him. How do you think I felt when I got the news? It crushed me, Harry. . . I almost died myself. My parents had to put me in the hospital—”
“What was one of the last things that he said to you?”
“He didn’t. . . he ran away.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Hermione, you’re not allowed to play Prince and Princess with anybody except for me. You’re not allowed to play any of our games with anybody except for me.”
Hermione stopped crying. “He said that to me. How did you know?”
“Because, I’m him.”
Hermione rested her forehead on his. “Tell me that I’m not dreaming.”
Harry smiled. He placed his hand on her face and whispered gently. “You’re not dreaming. And, there’s one more thing. . . I was going to tell you this when we were eight but—”
“My mum came in.”
“Yeah.” Harry swallowed. “I love you ‘Mione.”
“I love you too.”
And then they kissed.
“Just like Prince and Princess,” Harry said when they broke apart.
“Except, better.” Hermione replied.
“It’s even better,” Harry agreed.
They kissed again and as they did, it started to rain. But they didn’t even notice because they had finally found their happily ever after.
The End
Songs that inspired this story:
Fireflies – Faith Hill
Paris – “ “
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