Title: Lost in a Sea of Harmony
Summary: A series of drabbles/shorts centered around the Harry/Hermione ship.
Prompt: Return (23)
Come Back to Me
They were sitting at the dinner table, though neither of them was eating. Harry was swirling the wine in his glass, watching the whirlpool of burgundy, while Hermione poking at the baby corn on her plate. The large grandfather clock that had once belonged to the Black family stuck seven, and chimed loudly, reminding them of the hour. He would be leaving soon — less than four hours to be exact.
"Are you sure you don't know when you'll be coming back?" Harry looked up from his wine glass at his fiance's question.
"No. Could be a few days or it could be a few months." He frowned and looked back at his plate. This was the life of an Auror — being sent on missions with hardly any idea of how long you would be gone. As of two days ago, magical disturbances were pooping in South Wales, and no one in the Ministry seemed to know what exactly was happening, and who was causing the trouble. It wasn't until the Dark Mark appeared in the sky when people really started to panic. Voldemort was long since dead, but that didn't stop his followers from creating chaos. A team of Aurors had to be sent, and since he was Harry Potter, Murchenson, the Head Auror, felt that Harry was to be sent, whether he wanted to go or.
Hermione reached across the table and took Harry's hand. His eyes fell upon the silver ring he gave her, and he felt a pang of regret. Their wedding was soon, less than a month. Twenty days if he wanted to be exact. However, Murchenson wasn't giving out any favors, even if this was deemed the 'Wedding of the Century'. Harry had to go out and fight the good fight like everyone else. He didn't get any special treatment. Harry would have wished for that anytime other than now.
"You'll be careful, won't you? Not do anything stupid?" Their eyes met, and for a brief moment she smiled. "I know how you get with your 'saving people' thing. I don't want to be a widow before I'm married."
Harry shook his head and squeezed her fingers tightly. "Nothing's going to stop me from coming back here and making you my wife, 'Mione. Nothing."
"Oh, Harry." Harry felt a surge of warmth when Hermione smiled at his words — her bright, beautiful smile. He meant what he said. He was going to come back, and by the thirteenth at that. Death Eaters — Merline, even a resurrected Voldemort— could keep Harry Potter from making Hermione Granger his bride.
A/N:All reviews accepted and appreciated. Thanks for reading.