Written for the Harmony Co.'s Lyric llama Challenge! This fic was inspired by the lyrics from the song, Rather Be by Clean Bandit. I claim no ownership of it, I only used it as inspiration.
We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea,
But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be
The wind outside the tent is howling. It has been a week since Ron has abandoned Harry and Hermione in a fit of jealousy that was aggravated by the dark influence of the horcrux. The tent, once bright, now took on a color of washed up grey in reflection of the atmosphere. It was unbearable. Other than the sounds of nature outside, the stilted one word conversations between himself and Hermione, and in the night Hermione's cries, no sound can be heard.
Today however, is different. Unlike the now usual somber silence that is inside the tent, Hermione have today decided to try to fix the radio. So far, it was a failure, evidenced by the white static noise in the background.
Hermione, after hours of unsuccessful attempts, now sat down in the corner beside the radio, legs pressed against her chest and bushy brown hair flowing around her shoulders. Harry noted that she did not move for an hour so far, seemingly lost within the recesses of her mind. She seems to be doing that more often now, and although Harry tried to bring her out of her slump multiple times, he knew that it would take more than just a few words to do just that. So far, all of Harry's efforts in trying to lighten the mood seem to only fuel the tension that was produced when Ron left.
Continuing to listen to the never-ending static, Harry felt that at any moment the tension will snap. He feared that, at any point, any accidental trigger might result in Hermione leaving, just as Ron did. As she sat at the other end of the tent, far away from him, he felt that Ron's presence, although physically absent, was trying it's hardest to tarnish the familiar friendship between Hermione and himself.
Harry shook his head. No, that would not do. As he watched Hermione curl further into herself from his own corner of the room, he decided that enough is enough. He will make sure that Hermione will get out of her slump, no matter what it took. Standing up, Harry decided to ignore the small voice that cannot stop telling him to just let it go, to give her more time. Personally, Harry felt agitated by the mere thought of continuing this awkward dance that they have going on.
Ruffling his messy hair, and straightening up his glasses, Harry starts to walk towards her. As he is walking across the room, he found it ironic that he is the one taking the initiative for once. Usually, it is Hermione that walks or runs towards him, cheering him up, comforting him. It is her who tends to put the effort in making sure that he is ready for anything that may come his way, whether it is an upcoming exam, or another of Voldemort's attempts on his life. It is her that put the effort in making sure that he and Ron were always on top of their schoolwork and their assignments.
He shook his head. He really underestimated the pressure Ron and himself unwittingly placed on Hermione through the years. For once, he in her shoes. He is the one that needs to act this time to salvage the comfort that they have.
Ron may have turned his back on them for the last time, but he won't allow his thoughtlessly jealous actions break the one constant in his life. Ron have pushed Hermione one too many times. He will need to pull her up out of her misery and insure that he will be the rock grounding her against the pressure inducing torrential waves.
The walk may have been short, but for him, he felt that it had stretched for miles finally stood before her. As if she have felt his presence, Hermione looked up. Harry took note of the dark circles under her eyes, and the cloudiness within them. The slightly hollowed face, and the smaller than usual figure, courteously of the lack of sustenance. The defeated and crumbled posture, thanks to the pressure the war, the hunt and the more recent betrayal brought down on her.
He made his decision. He will not stay idle as she wastes away before him. Ron may have been her solace previously, but as evidenced by his habit of leaving when things go awry, it is obvious that it is not doing Hermione any good. The rock that she was clinging to previously was eroded, clipped away by the many heartless and careless words said by their friend. This abandonment forced the rock that she clinged to desperately to slip through her fingers.
Offering his hand to her, she stared up at him and pursed her lips. He did not know what was running through her head, but as the seconds passed he observed her eyes softening and, seemingly have reached her decision, took his hand. Feeling the faint calluses on her fingertips, her gently grasped her hand and pulled her up.
As he pulled her up from her seat, he felt a tension that he was not aware of leave his shoulders. Looking through her eyes, he slowly and carefully raised his arms. He brushed aside her soft brown bushy hair carefully, and deftly unclasped the dark locket that was hanging from her thin neck.
Putting the locket aside, he stood before her again, and taking her hands, slowly walked backwards, guiding Hermione to the center of the tent, never once straying his eyes away from her.
She looked up at him questioningly, and as a response to her silent inquiry, took both of her arms and placed one on his waist and another on his shoulder. He slowly started to sway with her, all the while never once removing his eyes from her. At first, she just stood stiffly in place, languid in his arms, but after a few seconds of Harry hopelessly moving back and forth in place Hermione started to respond to him. At first it was nothing major, just swaying alongside him, but a few minutes, she relaxed enough to allow him to lead her across the tent.
With music that cannot be heard by human ears, they danced, swayed, and moved their bodies in tandem across the tent. With every brush of her body against him, with every accidental step on his foot, with every little giggle he managed to push out of Hermione's chest, Harry felt himself relax. The ball of tension that gripped his heart, the whispers of doubt plaguing his head, the fearful beat in his heart, all washed away the more he danced with his best friend safe within his arms.
As Hermione and Harry danced away, Harry came to a startling realization that no one else can stand in Hermione's place. He tried to think of the two girls he had a passing fancy to: Cho and Ginny. Cho, although was pretty with her black hair and curvy body, was insecure about herself whenever she came in contact with Hermione, eventually resulting in his breakup with her. Ginny, with her flaming hair, lithe athletic body and passionate personality, spent a lot of time with his group and was familiar due to the many summers he spent with the Weasley's. However, she always gave the slight impression of being distant, and, the more Harry realized, never really talked with her while he was dating her, almost always preoccupied with snogging her.
The more Harry thought about the two girls in his life, the more he realized that Hermione was the one who stood by him through thick and thin. In first year, with the Philosophers Stone, she was the one who gave him the courage to go through the flames. Second year, she was the one who got herself petrified in her determination and rush to give him vital information pertaining the Basilisk. Even when everyone was against him in fourth year, she was the only one who believed him without a word said in between them. Harry felt that, if it wasn't for Hermione's presence and guidance throughout the years, his heart would be unable to beat.
Countless times, when he felt down she always comforted him, whether it was through her warm hugs, fleeting touches, or soft comforting words. No one else knows his deepest fears and his secret wishes. No one else can turn one of his broody moods around with an uttered sentence. No one else can calm his tempers with a single touch. No one else can help him rationalize his chaotic thoughts. He realized that - heart beating more erratically in his chest, with a slight reddening of his cheeks - that underneath his denial and fear, he harbored a small flame for Hermione.
Harry twirled Hermione around, forcing a laugh to pass through her lips, and with a mischievous grin, pulled her back against her chest. Feeling her body pressed against him, he peered downwards, catching her brown eyes with his electric green gaze. Previously, all he saw within her eyes was sadness with a touch of resignation. Now, looking down at her eyes, he can see that those feelings were overtaken by mirth, and -if he was not mistaken - a touch of affection.
Staring down at Hermione, inside this gloomy tent, wind blowing erratically outside, a war raging in the distance, Harry felt for the first time in a while, at peace.
It may take some time to properly show Hermione how much he cares for her, and appreciates her. Will take time to express his gratitude of everything she has done for him. With a smile, Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled wider when he felt her hug him back.
Their circumstances may be tough at the moment. They are a thousand miles away from comfort, always needing to move from place to place. It is not the best, but Harry knew that if Hermione gives him a chance, even in these turbulent times, he will take it.
Placing his head on her shoulder, and smelling her soft vanilla scent, bushy hair shielding his head, he knew that as long as Hermione is with him, by his side, there is no where else he would rather be.