Chapter Text
The night was still young, the moon hanging high in the sky and shining down on the apartment building. Harry ignored the need for a brighter light, deciding to use the moonlight to read the small print on the newspaper.
Lying face down on the bed with his back to the door and a newspaper laid out before him, Harry hummed to himself as he flipped through the employment ads, searching for something to do in this new place.
If he listened closely, he could hear Ron and Hermione chatting away in the kitchen while Ron made dinner and Hermione filled out paperwork at the table. A small smile lifted the corners of Harry’s mouth as he thought of his two best friends, his two lovers.
Harry didn’t look up when he noticed the voices cease, he didn’t look up when he heard the near silent shuffle of bare feet on hard wood. Hermione cleared her throat lightly, a soft knock on the door forcing him to acknowledge her. Harry sighed to himself, forcing him to pull himself out of his content thinking.
“Supper is ready,” Hermione’s soft voice drifted through the air, bringing another smile to his lips. Harry lifted his body up so he was resting on his elbows, turning his head so he could see the woman he fell in love with.
Hermione was smiling softly, leaning against the doorway in nothing but a lacy night dress, her pert breasts practically on display. Her bushy hair was framing her face in a way that made Harry’s breath catch, her deep brown eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
Harry nodded slightly, prompting the girl to giggle cutely before turning and winking his way. Harry was up and following her as she led him to the small kitchen/dining room area. Harry felt the slight chill of the autumn air as he moved, his green boxer briefs did absolutely nothing to keep the chill from giving him goose bumps that traveled up his arms.
The sound of a spatula scraping a pan made Harry cringe. Ron had his back to them, his bare back with only a pair of old blue boxers keeping him somewhat decent along with the lacy stings of the apron Hermione got the taller boy for his last birthday.
Harry slumped over in one of the chairs, his eyes tracking Hermione as she put her college paperwork into the small book bag that usually hung on the door handle of their closet. Her hair fell forward over her face, hiding her face from view. Ron chuckled; bring Harry’s attention to the bright blue eyes that stared down at him. A plate of waffles was set down before Harry, the syrup already sitting in the middle of the table.
“If you keep looking at her like that, I might get jealous,” Ron said playfully, his lips pulled back into a playful grin. Harry scoffed; his glasses slipping down his nose a bit. Hermione rolled her eyes before leaning forward and kissing Harry, her hands fixing his glasses before she leaned back.
“Things like this make me feel very left out,” Ron informed them, pouting exaggeratedly. Harry and Hermione shared a look before bursting out laughing. Ron sighed again before chuckling along with them.
Once they had calmed down and started on their meal, Hermione turned her attention to Harry, her foot brushing up against his to gain his attention.
“Did you find a job luv?” she asked, looking at him expectantly. Harry shrugged, looking down at his waffles with a funny feeling in his stomach; he always felt that feeling when Hermione or Ron called him that.
“All the jobs I’ve seen need either experience, or don’t look very interesting,” he confessed, his shoulders slumping a bit. Ron’s hand was on his shoulder, his fingers pressing into him comfortably, a reminder that they were here, that they all survived.
“I’m sure you’ll find something soon, we can’t have you blowing us up out of boredom now can we?” Ron grinned at him, his eyes almost closed with how wide his smile was. Hermione nodded on his other side, her chocolate curls bouncing a bit as her head moved.
“If anything, you could always try a talent agency, I’ve heard about some in the area. I could bring a flyer or something home from school tomorrow if you’d like,” she told him, her own hand clasping his, her perfectly manicured nails providing a pressure he needed.
“We’ll see,” was his only answer. The rest of the meal went on in silence, each lost in the thoughts of war, and everything that happened after. The people they lost, the people that shunned them, the people that expected too much.
By the time their plates were empty the three were already in foul moods, small frowns on each of their faces. Working in tandem, the three stood and started to clean the kitchen, Ron at the sink with Harry and Hermione cleaning the counters with a quick hand.
Harry’s head turned quickly when he heard the humming. Ron’s deep voice made for a truly haunting melody as he hummed an unknown song in the kitchen. Harry’s head turned again when Hermione joined in, her voice lighter and higher pitched, changing the haunting melody into a somewhat cheerful thing. Harry couldn’t stop the grin that stretched his face in a way that was almost painful.
He added his own voice, making the melody complete, the tune drifting around them with a calming effect none of them had felt in the entire week they’ve spent in the apartment. It was then that Harry realized something, something that made his smile soften into something real, something painless.
They are happy. They are happier now than they were a month ago, happier than they were when they met eight years ago. They are complete now in a way that they never were back home. They didn’t have to keep up appearances or ignore parts of themselves for the general public. They have gotten their new start, a start that allows them to be as happy, as silly, and as passionate as they want to be without having to hide it from the press, from their families.
Life was good now, great even. And Harry wouldn’t want it any other way.