Title: Swingers
Rating:
K+
Summary: Gently, she kicked off and moved her body and legs back and forth. Seven years and countless adventures later, and she still knew how to pump her legs for the swings.
Fandom / Pairing: HP, R/Hr
Notes: Set post-HBP. For Echo, who asked for and inspired this.
Notes II: Yeah, I should be working on B&B. Too bad. Neener. Enjoy!


It was a quiet, Muggle park. The sun was setting and the last of the children were leaving. As the light faded quickly, a lone streetlight illuminated the area, almost magically.

She brushed off her trousers, almost self-consciously. Really, she was checking for her wand, just in case.

"Where's Harry?"

"Ask a stupid question," she muttered under her breath. "Not here, I guess," she replied aloud. Three months had made them better, but they weren't...okay yet.

"A playground...what a place to meet." He sank onto a park bench, content to wait it out. He sat bonelessly, one arm crooked over the back of the bench. His legs stretched out before him, almost hitting the gravel pit, and the other arm splayed itself over his abdomen.

"It makes sense; who'd think to look here? Plus, most parents are going to be keeping an eye out." She walked toward the swingset, the shadows making smiles on the ground. Quietly, she slumped down onto one, the one closest to him. Better safe than sorry.

"It wouldn't really save us."

She flinched, but her hair hid her face. "Muggleborn, muggle-raised. I guess to us it's some small comfort." She toed the gravel with her trainers. There was a big skid mark under the swing, from all the previous swingers trying to stop.

He simply shrugged and looked to the sky.

Squeak.

Squeak.

Gently, she kicked off and moved her body and legs back and forth. Seven years and countless adventures later, and she still knew how to pump her legs for the swings.

"What are you doing?"

"Swinging," she replied, shooting him a quick smile.

"You're just moving your legs back and forth."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," he whipcracked back. She looked him in the eye, startled, and smiled, turning to the streetlight.

"Do you remember your first broomstick?"

"Yeah. It was the most amazing feeling, the wind in my face, my arms clutching the handle."

"Do you still have it when you mount?"

He paused and looked at her, really looked at her, with an odd look in his eyes. "Yeah...I do."

"That's what this is. To me. Before I had magic...this was how I flew." She grinned broadly and let go of the chains, launching herself into the air. She landed in a crouch and rose, dusting herself off and making a face. "I forgot how much that can hurt."

She walked back to the swing, still moving, and sat down again. She didn't kick off this time, simply swaying.

"D'you want to push me?"

He looked at her, shocked. Pointing at himself, he made a 'Who, me?' face.

She giggled. "Yes, you!"

"Why?" He sat up and crossed his arms. "You just swung really high without me."

"It's different when someone pushes you," she replied simply, as if that was all the explanation she needed to give.

It was; he huffed and walked behind her, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "The things I do for you," he said, shaking his head. He gently pushed her forward.

"You know you love me," she replied flippantly. His hands stiffened as they caught her for another push. He pushed her away again and had to appreciate the irony of it all.

They remained in silence for a few minutes more. Suddenly, she was jolted to a stop by hands on the swing seat. She began to turn to ask what was wrong when he kissed her.

It was sweet and quiet, drawn with a hint of sadness. Gently, she kissed him back, tilting her head slightly.

As Harry approached, he saw their silhouettes, black against the white of the sodium light. Silently, he leaned against a tree, a ways off.

They deserved their moment.


This was a challenge and not. It was inspired by a line. "Swings are underrated. And romantic." This was fun. ♥