Cupidity

Cupidity

By FenrisWolf

Epilogue Part I

~~~~~

She sat in the small booth in the darkest corner of the nightclub, nursing her Flaming martini and watching the couples slowdancing center stage. Ever since it had opened as an alternative to the far more traditional Wizarding pubs, Enchantments was the place to see and be seen among the fashionable younger crowd of wizards and witches. The reservation list for the restaurant section of the establishment read like a Who's Who of the Wizarding world, and the attached nightclub had a queue every night that would have done the Muggles' Studio 54 proud, even in its heyday.

Of course, just like at the Muggle versions of such establishments, if you were on the 'A' list you didn't wait in queues, you just walked up to the doorman and were granted admittance. Said list might vary a bit from week to week and from establishment to establishment, but there were certain people who would always be on it, and it was a fairly safe bet that the top name on every list of that nature had to be Harry Potter (if for no other reason than no one was stupid enough to piss him off).

Narcissa smiled as the song ended and the results of her matchmaking efforts returned to their table. Wizarding fashions had changed a bit over the last few years; the destruction of Voldemort and his Death Eaters had shifted public sentiment away from anti-Muggle prejudices, and fashion trends echoed this change in attitude. The overall look was still woefully out of date compared with Muggle styles, but fashionable witches and wizards now looked like they'd stepped out of the 19^th century, not the 15^th. Of course those who regularly switched between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds often blurred the line between the two, but tonight they were wearing Wizard couture, and Narcissa had to admit the fashions suited them. Tapered tailcoats, skintight breeches and high top leather boots displayed Harry and Ron's toned bodies to good effect, and Luna and Hermione's tight bodiced, Empire waisted gowns flowed around them like smoke, both daring and demure.

Her musings were interrupted as her dinner companion returned to his chair. "See something interesting on the dance floor?" Remus asked, a small smile on his face.

"Just allowing myself a moment of self-congratulation for a job well done," she admitted, returning her date's smile. If anyone had told her six months ago that she would be dating the man she had secretly crushed on in school, she would have laughed in their face--well, no, knowing her she would have smiled politely and then destroyed their lives as soon as their back was turned, but she was trying to move away from that sort of behavior.

The odd thing was, Narcissa realized she really was very happy. Remus's quiet competence and calm self-assurance were such a counterpoint to her deceased husband's personality that any comparison was ludicrous. His dry sense of humor was completely free of the sadistic streak that had marked all of Lucius Malfoy's amusements, and not for the first time she found herself wondering what her life would have been like if she had followed her heart and not her head all those years ago.

She knew that the curse of lycanthropy, both the disease and the social stigma that went with it, had destroyed the spirit of many a man and woman. Her own research had revealed a suicide rate of well over 75% within the first ten years of infection, yet Remus not only had not succumbed to the depression that went hand-in-hand with his curse, he had risen above it, finding a tranquility that helped him restrain the beast within. Even more than that, wrestling his own demons had given him an insight into the problems others faced that few men had, and she found her own pain lessening under his calm influence.

Her reverie was interrupted when a strong, callused hand covered her own. "Are you all right, Narcissa?" he asked, honest concern coloring his voice. "You looked so sad just then."

Shaking off her mood, she turned her hand in his and covered it with her other, giving his a gentle squeeze. "Just thoughtful, my friend. So many changes since our days at Hogwarts. I think now, though, it might be time to put away old memories..."

"And perhaps, begin to make some new ones?" he asked, raising her hand to his lips and brushing them across her knuckles.

Narcissa realized she was blushing, and a genuine smile appeared on her face. She felt younger than she had in years, and for the first time in far longer than she could remember, she truly had the hope of something more than just existing. "Perhaps, indeed," she whispered in return.

~~~~~

Hermione looked around the table at her lover and their friends and felt the warm glow of contentment rising again. It was hard at times to remember what it had been like before she and Harry had finally admitted to the love they felt for one another. "It's not just a river in Egypt," she murmured to herself as she thought of all the years it had taken her to realize her true feelings for the man sitting beside her. Hearing her voice but not her words, he quirked an eyebrow and gave her hand a squeeze before leaning over to brush his lips across her cheek.

This particular evening Harry and Hermione had arrived on a double date with their recently married best friend, Ron, and his wife, Luna, to celebrate their return from their honeymoon. Harry had spent a fair amount of time while they were gone snickering over some of the postcards they received, for the newlyweds had had very different ideas about what made a proper vacation. Luna had insisted on vetting their itinerary, and every romantic locale they visited had perforce included a stopover to search the local wildlife sanctuaries for one or more of the odd creatures for which The Quibbler was always searching. Harry wasn't sure which had been funnier, the frustration in his friend's notes at the time they were wasting when they should have been pursuing more traditional honeymoon activities (like shagging each other's brains out), or the horror he'd expressed the time they actually found one of the creatures, in this case a Blush-Bottomed Badger Beetle.

Both Harry and Hermione had been pleasantly surprised by what a good match their friends had made. It could have been an unmitigated disaster between Ron's Weasley temper and Luna's somewhat tenuous grasp on reality, but instead they complemented each other. Luna restrained and calmed Ron's more volatile tendencies, and Ron helped her focus on the real world. They were both still a couple of flakes, but they were clearly very happy flakes.

Her gaze focused on Ron and Luna's intertwined hands and shuddered inwardly at the thought of the terrible mistake she'd almost made. Would she have actually gone through with the wedding? She knew she'd already been having doubts, but she was honest enough to acknowledge that her stubborn streak might very well have carried her all the way down the aisle. Now she could admit that she and Ron had never been right for one another, and it was equally obvious that he and Luna were.

As Luna's head bent towards her husband to whisper something in his ear, the candlelight reflected in brilliant flashes of crimson from her earrings. Hermione snorted as she remembered her first glimpse of Luna's eclectic jewelry, a taste to which she still clung. These days, however, she didn't have to fashion her own. Louis Comfort Tiffany hallmarked her butterbeer cap necklace, and her sparkling radish earrings, fashioned of rubies and red enamel over 18k gold, had come from the workshops of Carl Fabergé. Both had been engagement gifts, Ron's way of telling her how much he loved her, quirks and all, and with his lucrative contract as Keeper for the Chudley Cannons money was no longer an object. Luna's face had lit with pleasure when she opened the jewelry cases, and she wore the outré ensemble at every opportunity.

Her attention was brought back to their conversation when Ron spoke to Harry. "So, mate, when do you plan on making an honest woman out of Hermione, here? Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Hermione frowned as Harry blushed. "Ron, you know Harry and I don't need all that folderol. We love each other, and that's all that really matters."

"Kidding, kidding!" Ron laughed. "But you should know that Mum's not going to give up any time soon. With Sis making it abundantly clear that she's not getting married anytime soon, she's looking at you for a chance to plan her 'daughter's' wedding."

Hermione grimaced slightly. To everyone's surprise and her mother's dismay, Ginny had announced that, after a couple of years of night classes to bring her NEWT scores up to par, she was entering the Auror training program. Any kind of a permanent relationship was not in her plans for the foreseeable future. After a huge row that had left jangled nerves and hurt feelings on both sides, Molly and Ginny had reached a sort of détente over her decision. In the meantime, as Ron had observed, Molly had started hinting broadly that she would be willing help Hermione put together her wedding, since her own mother had no experience in arranging such matters in the Wizarding world. So far the hints had been fairly mild, but she was well aware that in time they would no doubt become far more insistent, a prospect to which she was not looking forward.

Harry deftly turned the conversation to other topics, and for a while they shared anecdotes about their daily lives, with Ron and Luna talking about some of the places they'd gone on their honeymoon, and Harry and Hermione detailing some of the more amusing reactions to them publicly becoming a couple.

The music playing on the dance floor changed to a familiar tune, and Harry quickly rose and offered Hermione his hand. She smiled and joined him, missing the glance that passed between her friends before Harry led her to the dance floor.

It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way,
you always walked a step behind.

Hermione remembered the first time she and Harry had danced to this piece of music. In deference to the mix of Muggleborn and purebloods, the Graduation Ball had played music from both worlds, and this piece had come on as Harry asked her to dance. She was familiar with it from her own upbringing, and she'd realized from the way Harry was mouthing the words that he was, too.

So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name -- for so long,
a beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and ev'rything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

As they'd continued to dance, she'd had the strangest feeling he was trying to tell her something. Merlin, how could she have been so blind to what was right in front of her?

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it,
I would be nothing with out you.

Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and ev'rything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

There had been several occasions over the years in between where they'd danced together, and in retrospect, Hermione realized that every time they had, at some point while they'd danced the song had played. Now, looking back, she realized Harry had been telling her something, the only way he could at the time. It had been their song, long before she'd understood that there was a 'them' to have a song.

Fly, fly, fly away,
you let me fly so high.
Oh, fly, fly,
so high against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank you, thank God for you,
the wind beneath my wings.*

As the music died way, she felt tears running down her cheeks, and realized Harry's cheeks were wet as well. "You don't know how long I've wanted to dance with you to that for real," he whispered, and Hermione's eyes flew wide with shock as he slowly sank to one knee on the dance floor, in front of the whole room.

"Growing up the way I did, I never learned what real love was supposed to be. It's only blind luck, or perhaps divine intervention, that I didn't turn into some crazed psychopath. But while they taught me what love wasn't, I still had no clue what love was - until I met you.

"From the moment we met on the train that first year, you taught me the truth of what real love means, from the trust that builds between true friends to the passion that grows between true lovers. I'm not complete without you, Hermione. I wouldn't be the man I am today without the strength your love, your courage, and your friendship gave me. Will you make me complete, forever? Will you be my wife?"

"YES! Oh, Harry, Yes!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck before covering his face with kisses. He rose to his feet, lifting her in his embrace, a huge smile on his face, and then leaned down and kissed her deeply. When they both came up for air he supported her until her knees stopped wobbling, and the removed a small velvet box from an inner jacket pocket. He opened the lid and she gasped at the sight of the platinum and diamond band set with a large, oval cut emerald. With trembling fingers he removed it from the box and slipped it on her finger amid the cheers, whistles and applause of the other patrons as they realized what was happening.

~~~~~

Narcissa watched the scene in front of her and was amazed when she realized that tears were running down her cheeks. Tears? She hadn't allowed herself to cry in years, not since the morning after her wedding, and yet she was blubbering like a schoolgirl reading a romance novel. What on earth had gotten in to her?

"Thank you."

Her attention returned to her date. "For what?" she asked a bit waspishly, embarrassed to have him see her lose control that way.

"For them, for making this happen, whatever your reasons. After all they went through they deserve their happiness. So, thank you."

"Oh, well, I suppose you're welcome," she replied as she blotted her tears away, feeling a bit flustered at the sincerity in his voice.

Remus laughed softly, and rose as the music began playing again. "Ms. Black, may I have the honor of this dance?"

She smiled as she took his hand and rose. "The honor is all mine, Mr. Lupin," she replied as he led her out on the floor, and perhaps, into the future.

~~~~~

Epilogue Part II

~~~~~

Big Bad sat at his desk and read the reports with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Operation Cupid had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. Not only had Granger cured Potter's eternal bad mood, now that they were engaged planning for the wedding and subsequent honeymoon were likely to keep him distracted for over a year, more than enough time for T.I.C.K.L.E. to recoup their earlier losses. They would still have to keep a low profile on some of their operations, but many of those had been red ink propositions for decades; when all was said and done, things like strong-arm intimidation and murder for hire didn't pay well enough to counterbalance the bad PR they generated. He didn't feel too bad about shutting some of those down, especially when their other businesses were going so well.

Some of his analysts were suggesting that there was a possibility that Potter might retire to raise a family, an idea that made Big Bad and his associates positively drool. So long as he headed the Unspeakables, their attempts to re-establish their influence within the Ministries met with repeated failure, as he showed an almost prescient ability to ferret out corruption. If he retired, many doors that had been shut for years might begin to inch open again...

His daydreams evaporated as S.U.C.K.R. barged into his office without knocking, his face white as a sheet. "We have a problem," he said unnecessarily, and extended a rolled-up parchment.

Big Bad frowned as he scanned the document. It was an application for the Auror Training Program. He skipped past all the minutiae and scanned the applicant's desired goals. They stated a desire to pursue a career investigating organized crime activities within the Wizarding community, with an eye towards weeding out the graft and corruption that crippled the political system. At the bottom, signed in an extremely neat, legible hand, was the name of the applicant: Hermione Granger née Potter.

Big Bad's and S.U.C.K.R.'s eyes met across his desk, and the same thought passed through both their minds: the most intelligent witch in the last century was joining forces with the most powerful wizard in the last millennium, and T.I.C.K.L.E. was sitting in the cross-hairs.

The moment his gibbering panic eased enough for him to move, Big Bad jerked into action. Racing to the fireplace, he flung a handful of Floo Powder into the coals, and then screamed into the roar of green flames.

"Nar-CISS-A!!!"

~The End (and this time I mean it!)~

*Lyrics to 'Wind Beneath My Wings' copyright Bette Midler