Liquor and a Letter

The Adult Toddler

"No."

Screw beginning to hate the word, Ron definitely hated it now. It was somehow even more annoying than when Amelia couldn't stop saying it as a toddler. As it stood, Harry's behaviour wasn't too far off from his daughter when she was two.

"It's just one bloody dinner, Harry," Ron reasoned with an edge to his voice. It was starting to annoy him with how much he had to parent Harry.

"I agreed to go to the wedding, not anything else," a rather petulant Harry said.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Ron fought to keep from blowing up at his best mate. He couldn't deny that the git had a point but couldn't he just suck it up for one extra day? The redhead was trying his best to mend fences and hopefully regain the golden days of the trip but Harry wouldn't budge.

"I know that, but I'd like to think that this is Hermione's way of saying she wants to be friends again. It's one thing to invite you to the wedding, it's another to invite you to dinner in her parents' home. You don't think this means that she's committed to rebuilding this friendship?"

Harry considered it for a moment and Ron again had to restrain himself from jumping in joy when he saw the man deflate again. He was getting really good at communication and using the right words. He only wished he developed this ability in Hogwarts. Things could have gone a lot smoother if he didn't have the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' as Hermione put it.

"When did you get so good at this talking stuff?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"You mean I wasn't always good at it?" Ron shot back with a grin before clapping Harry on the shoulder. He noticed the anxious look the man was wearing and comforted him. "Listen, mate, I'll be right there with you. If things go bad and it's not your fault, we'll leave right away."

That looked like it did the trick but Harry smiled tightly. "I feel so reassured," he said with caustic humor. Ron guffawed in response and wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders. "Thanks, Ron, I don't know what I'd do without you." Harry smiled a genuine smile to his best mate and let himself lean against the taller redhead's side.

"I'm always with you, mate."

The duo stayed like that for a beat longer until Luna beckoned them to the kitchen for dinner. As usual, Amelia sat next to her favorite uncle and had him feed her even though she could eat most foods by herself. Harry was all too happy to help, causing Ron and Luna to look at each other knowingly. For all his faults and his lifestyle choices, they couldn't deny that Harry was his best self around their daughter. He was happy around their family and that was enough for them.
———
Harry cursed himself for letting Ron talk him into going to dinner at the Grangers' house. Nearly all of his being told him to blow the whole thing off but he didn't want to disappoint Ron and vindicate Hermione any further. If he blew it off, she would have been right about him when she said he was a selfish bastard and an arsehole of the highest order.

With that in mind, Harry dressed himself in a knitted grey sweater which he rolled the sleeves up to just below his elbows. The tattoo of prongs on his forearm shone in the light of Grimmauld Place and he briefly admired it as he retrieved a pair of navy jeans and brown leather boots. He completed his outfit and gave himself a once over, winding at the state of his hair and the sallow look of his face. He looked like...well, shit. Four years of nonstop drinking tended to do that.

"Alright, Potter, we're going to go there and not act like a fool. We're going to go in there and show Hermione that we're still the Harry she knew and..." he didn't finish the last part of his pep talk as it was too painful to remind himself that she did love him once before he went and screwed everything up. "Well, we'll just forget about that part and try to be friends again. I'm sure this fiancé of hers is a good guy," he continued to talk to himself.

Truthfully, he felt more than a surge of jealousy at Hermione's fiancé but he wasn't immature to the point where he would hate the man before ever meeting him. He accepted that his ship with Hermione had sailed or, rather, sunk. Whoever this new guy was, he probably treated Hermione well and made her happy. He resolved to try to find a way to be alright with that even if it hurt like hell. This was his penance for being a right foul git to the woman.

"Harry, mate, you ready?" Ron called from downstairs, his voice muffled.

"YEAH," Harry shouted back and steeled himself for the storm of emotions that was coming.

He questioned what it was going to be like when he saw Hermione again. He wanted to believe Ron was right and that she was willing to mend fences with him. If it were true, then he could at least have her back in his life. He would take anything he could get.

"Okay, before we go, can you not look like you're going to fight Voldemort?" Ron quipped with a shit eating grin as he stepped down from the stairs.

"At this rate, I'll take my chances with him," Harry halfheartedly replied humorlessly.

"Chin up, mate. You'll be fine, I'll be right there with you," Ron told him softly.

"Alright, let's go."