Side by Side

They sit on either side of him on the grass, as they always have. A small shoulder nudges his left arm, and a freckled knee presses up against his right leg. He stares resolutely forward as he pushes back against both of them, just enough to let them know that he knows they are there.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione says from his left. He doesn't look at her, but he doesn't need to. He can hear the emotion in her eyes and the smile on her lips in her voice. He smiles too, as she stretches her neck and places a kiss on his cheek.

"Happy Birthday," Ron echoes from his right.

"What, no kiss from you?" Harry asks, his grin spreading. His best friends both laugh, and Harry can't help but laugh with them.

"You think just because you turn eighteen you deserve a kiss?" Ron asks him. Harry does not look to his right, for he can picture the glint in his best friend's eyes without seeing it.

"Hermione gave me one!" Harry protests with a smirk.

"So you want two kisses, just for turning eighteen? That doesn't seem like a big enough accomplishment for that reward. Ask me when you turn a hundred and eighteen. Then I'll think about it." Harry laughs again. Hermione rolls her eyes.

The conversation lapses into a comfortable silence. The small shoulder is still pressed against his left arm and the freckled knee against his left leg, but they have both shifted slightly. He cannot see it, but he is sure that the subtle movement allowed his best friends to reach for each other's hands behind his back.

He smiles and thinks about all that their friendship has survived. They faced a troll in a bathroom and followed spiders into the forest. They fought over a cat and a rat and a name in a goblet. They built an army and broke hearts, and in the process lost loved ones and won a war.

"I never thought I'd make it to eighteen," Harry admits.

"I always knew you would," Ron says with certainty.

"Me too," Hermione claims.

"How?" Harry asks, before he can stop himself.

"I just knew," she says, and he feels her shrug against him.

"That's something Ron would say," he informs her, smirking.

"I guess I've been spending too much time with him," she replies, and his friends move slightly on either side of him again. He looks up in time to catch the glance they share behind his back, and he feigns disgust. They laugh and lean into him at the same time, as if to remind him that what they do behind his back will never compromise what they do by his side.

He smiles and pushes back, because he knows.