On the Roof

Let's remember for a moment, shall we?

So I'm sitting on my roof. There's a random little protrusion right outside a second story window, just steep enough to lend a sense of adventure, but flat enough to easily meander across. It's a bit longer than I am tall, so laying down is no real issue; never has been.

I remember when I was so much younger and lost amidst the noise and terror of my kin. I must have been seven, maybe eight, the first time that I climbed out of my little sister's window with a pillow and blanket to escape the overbearing shouting in the kitchen...the twins at their humble beginning, I'd assume. I was looking for a way to go out into the humid summer without going downstairs, and sort of slipped through the cracks until I fell onto that little roof.

I remember throwing myself down and feeling the warm stillness blanketing me as I gazed up at the stars, as of then uncharted in my eyes and only a mess of shimmering drops on the sky. It looked like somebody had spilled glitter all over a length of dark, dark, dark blue wool...Percy's Christmas sweater from when he was nine, maybe. Whispers of growing things, like flowers and grass, perfumed the muggy air. The nighttime sounds, the bugs and the birds and the breath of the earth, all of it, blocked out the pandemonium from inside, and for the first time in my life, I felt alone.

I mean, physically alone. I always felt alone, lost, a little pebble in the stream of ever-moving Weasleys. But now, I felt...not lonely, simply alone. At that point in my life is when I first distinguished the difference of those two conditions. I felt aloof, proud at my accomplishment of finding my own special place. I felt isolated, but not forgotten.

Well, after a while I clambered back inside, only because I knew I'd fall off the roof if I fell asleep out there. But of course I returned the next day, to experiment with the roof during the day. Of course, it was incredibly hot and impossible to walk on, but if I set out a few blankets I could sit in relative comfort, munching on an apple and acquiring many new freckles, seeing as my shirt had been shed as soon as I felt the sun's beads on my face. That's how I spent many days until I started school. It's always been my favorite place.

The summer after third year, I took Harry out here for the first time. I thought he needed a place too. He had felt awkward walking through Ginny's room, and I laughed at him. I'm a brother, I don't harbor much respect for privacy, what can I say? Especially after second year, I've always tried to keep an eye on her. Anyways, me and Harry just sort of sat there, talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each others company. It was nice to have invited someone else to my little hideaway. And though it was no longer only mine, it was okay, because Harry was mine too, so it turned into a crazy equation that only left me happier and more complete.

And then it was you. I remember that day as clearly as...what was that thing you once showed me? A mover? Oh, movie, that's right. Well, it's like that, clear and linear and too perfect to be true...but it was. The summer after sixth year, when we stopped at the Burrow for the wedding. We'd finally reconciled...meaning I'd finally quite being an arse and let things happen the way they should've so much earlier. We wasted far too much time bickering, but if it got us here eventually, I'm not going to worry too much. Anyway, I invited you out on the roof the morning of the wedding. Harry was brooding somewhere, or talking to someone, or hiding from Ginny, or something like that. As I helped you through the window, I couldn't have been any happier.

Once we were out there, I summoned a blanket to sit on, because the roof can get pretty gross sometimes. We just talked about everything and nothing, just enjoying each others company, just like I had with Harry, only that this time I sat with my arm around your shoulders and I'm pretty sure I was falling in love with you, and...that just didn't happen with Harry. It's a very distinguishing difference.

You looked like the ocean; clear, majestic, breathtakingly beautiful, and it almost brought me to tears to know that you were mine, too. This is the only time I'll ever admit that, by the way. I am a man, and I don't cry for things like that. Only almost.

You were wearing pretty, sapphire blue dress robes for the wedding. Around your neck were the beads that I'd gotten for you at a shop in muggle London a few summers before, but had only just given to you that June. They were blue as well, all different shades, with a few droplet-like clear beads, so it looked like rain on a string. They were cheap, but I'm poor, and they were still pretty just like I'm still not worthless. I got blue because it's a Ravenclaw color and you're always so smart, and because blue looks good on you, and if I ever noticed anything about any girl, that's what I'd noticed. You were barefoot, I remember this especially because you kept curling the blanket around in between your toes as we talked. You'd spent hours taming your hair and tying it here and there and pouring all sorts of strange concoctions into it, only to decide to simply wear it down, shiny and curly and smooth due to some potion or spell or other, with a thin blue ribbon tied like a headband. Your chocolaty eyes glittered like the stars on that night when I was little.

Yes, I do remember that day very well.

With the wedding being outdoors and it being us and our crowd, of course it began to rain. It was only a light rain, so we decided not to go inside right away. I simply drew you closer as the crystalline drops punctuated the warm summer air, and you rested your head on my shoulder. Your hair smelled like strawberries and cream. I felt you breathing against me, and it reminded me of Dumbledore's funeral, when I had held you while we cried. And I suddenly felt so close to you, like you were a part of me. We'd shared so much, grown up together, and been tied so closely to each other with God-knows-what through Hell and high water...I felt a connection that I, in all my teenage maturity, couldn't name.

A raindrop fell on your cheek, so it looked like you had been crying. I could have that. I reached out my hand to wipe it away, and in doing so, turned your face towards mine. We were so close, and you were so beautiful. Still are. I gently wiped away the raindrop with my thumb, and leaned in and pressed my lips against...your forehead. Nevertheless, your eyes fluttered shut and you gasped a bit. Then I kissed the bridge of your nose, across the little sprinkle of cinnamon freckles, as my hand slipped from your shoulder to your waist. Then, as my fingers slid from your face into your hair, you opened your eyes and for a split second, looked directly at me, into me, through me, and the next thing I knew we were kissing, eyes closed, my lips against yours, soft and wonderful. At some point your hands had slipped up around my neck. I could feel your heart beating against mine. And that was our first kiss. By no means did we immediately start snogging or anything. You pulled back and just sort of looked at me, with this lazy, satisfied smile playing on your lips and a perceptive, elated look in your eyes. I suppose I looked the same. A first kiss on the roof in the rain seemed romantically clichéd, but you do bring out the romantic in me.

I still don't know why I went about kissing you in such a roundabout way, but it just happened, and I think it was alright. Well, I think it was brilliant, but kissing you is always brilliant, regardless.

And then, a few weeks later, early in the morning before we left, I took you to the roof again. We were in jeans and t-shirts and trainers, ready to leave at seven, which my mother had made us promise to do. Seven, no earlier. I thought we could watch the sun rise together, because the little embankment faced east. Otherwise I would've brought you out for sunset the night before, I suppose. I had something I needed to say to you in private, and if the beauty of the earth and skies just happened to cushion us in our pain and confusion of leaving and make the moment better, so be it.

The sunrise was lovely, although by no means the best one I've watched with you. It was like the sun just sort of spilled over the horizon by chance, throwing dusty golden shadows up into the sky haphazardly and pushing the stars away. It was breathtaking, the way the light reflected off of your hair and made your skin glow. When I looked at you, I saw the sky, the sun, the stars, the horizon, the trees...everything was reflected in your eyes.

Of course you beat me to it. You sighed and sank into my arms, murmuring that you loved me as you tilted your head back to gaze at me with the sky in your eyes. I kissed you and told you that that was good, because I loved you more than I ever knew I was capable of and I couldn't understand why I had ever wasted my time with anyone else and you were so damn beautiful and kind and smart and perfect. You laughed and said that I was all you wanted, that I was enough, and if we didn't make it past the trials that awaited us, it was okay because we could be together through them and even if we died, we would die together and having loved each other.

Of course, we didn't die. Neither did Harry, amazingly. But so many others...I don't know how or why, but we seemed to be the only couple left after the war. All others had been ripped apart by death, deceit, or change. War changes people, and as our friends drifted apart from each other, I clung more desperately to you. I couldn't lose you. You were necessary to me, like my eyes or ears. If something had happened to you, I would've gone through life deaf and blind, sunk into myself, until I doubt I would've existed at all. But we persevered.

I remember the first time I took you home again...well, you can never go home again, everyone knows that. But to the Burrow we went, as Harry recuperated at St. Mungo's and the world celebrated our victory. The Burrow was empty, of course, seeing as Ginny had been living at Hogwarts for years for safety reasons and Dad had moved out when Mum was murdered...he couldn't handle the memories. Nobody else had claimed the Burrow, because it was as much of a Weasley trademark as the red hair or numerous children. Eventually it would come alive again.

We wandered aimlessly through the house, lighting lamps, charming away the dust that had settled everywhere. Eventually we settled on the roof, and for the first time, well, you know. The night pressed down on us as we pulled off our clothing. This night I can't remember as well...only flashes and feelings. I remember how smooth your skin was, how when we kissed you tasted like hot chocolate, how your muscles tensed underneath your skin, how your hips felt in my hands. And later, as we lay on the roof and watched the sun rise (this one was the best one), it seemed like there was hope that life would go on, as sure as the sun rises after the darkest of nights.

And now I've brought you out here again. It's been a while, a few months, since that last night. The world is righting itself. The funerals are over. Harry and Ginny fell back together. Diagon Alley's reopened. I've reclaimed the Burrow. And so now, I have one thing to ask.

Hermione, will you marry me? We belong together; that's one of the few things that I've ever been completely sure of. You fill my life, and I'd like to fill yours, and if we could even just be together, without anything else, I could be completely happy, and I think you could too.

That ring looks so beautiful on your finger. It's not cheap, because I'm not poor. The Ministry compensated us well. It's a diamond, and those are rubies, for Gryffindor, for bravery and courage and our childhood-all those memories of school, Harry, you, me, Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin, my mother, my family, Hagrid, McGonagall, Cedric, the twins, Luna, Neville, Quidditch matches, late night studying, sneaking out, the invisibility cloak, the Marauders Map, and of every time we saved the world from Voldemort before we even knew what the world held for us. And those ones are sapphires. They match those old beads on your necklace perfectly.