Harry and Hermione. I have always preferred your hair curly. Thank you! 😍
“I have always preferred your hair curly,” Harry said. Hermione glanced at him in the mirror and, from where he stood behind her, he shrugged. “I just think you shouldn’t change who you are for someone.”
Her hands, filled with one of the endless magical straightening ointments she ordered, faltered.
“Of course, I assume you’re happy,” Harry said. She was sitting here in her dressing room at the hotel, white dress on, veil over to the side. He’d watched her snap at the staff, cry over a pair of shoes that didn’t fit, and now she was struggling with her hair and he didn’t assume she was happy at all. If anything, he assumed she was miserable, but his job was to walk her down the aisle and hand her off. He was supposed to be the friend, not the critic. Certainly not the –
But there was no happiness to be found in following that line of thought to its natural conclusion.
“I just think you look beautiful all the time,” he said, the words feeling inadequate even as they came out of his mouth. “I’m sure – “
“He doesn’t,” Hermione said. “He hates my hair.” Then she burst into great, sobbing tears and Harry, never at his best with crying women, fumbled to find a handkerchief. He didn’t have one, and finally accioed a box of tissues from the loo. She mopped at her face. “I just don’t know what to do,” she said in what from anyone else he would have called a wail. “He booked this venue two years ago, before he even proposed. And there’s the caterer, and the florist, and all the gifts, and – “
“The fire escape,” Harry said.
He shrugged. “Your window has a fire escape.” He accioed all the goo from her hair, then ducked as it flew towards his face. It spattered on the wall behind him, but her curls bounced free of their prison and a small smile crept onto her face.
“It would be very irresponsible,” she said.
“Terribly,” Harry agreed.
She picked up one of her shoes, regarded it seriously, then flung it at the bed. It bounced on the thick duvet and then sank into a pile of lingerie that had been delivered earlier, lost under lace and ribbons. “Let’s go,” she said.
Harry opened the window and gestured out. “After you,” he said.
from Send me the pairing and first sentence…