Title: Immunity
Summary: And they were seventeen again in a tent in the middle of nowhere, scared and alone and missing their other half. Post-war Harry/Hermione friendship
Notes: The Harry/Hermione dancing scene in the Deathly Hallows movie remains one of my favorite scenes from the whole series because it ties together their dynamic so perfectly – they are both scared and alone and very much so carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. So I decided to draw a parallel to it a few years after the end of the war.

I included a piece in parenthesis that I really don't think should be included, but I stuck it in anyways. If you stare at something long enough, you're bound to see something you haven't before. I've always been firm on the Harry/Hermione friendship, but I doubt there weren't moments like the one I included where for a split second it seemed right, but in the end, they both knew it wasn't. I don't know. Don't let it ruin the piece if you dislike it – it can obviously be read without it.

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"You'll let me know straight away if there's any development?"

From his place by the window, Harry Potter barely blinked. His head was pounding at his temples, a pain he had become slowly less accustom to having as the war faded in his memory. But he had received owl from the Ministry just that morning stating that his best friend and fellow Auror, Ron Weasley, was three days late from his assignment. After contacting the Ministry and demanding all the details of his friend's current mission, he had little more information than he had started with – the mission had been top secret, apparently, and search teams had been sent to scout the surrounding area. But with each hour, he was growing more and more impatient, and his aptitude for getting the job done himself was slowly rekindling itself inside of him. He absentmindedly wondered if he could steal any documents from the Minsitry and leave for himself. However he realized Ron, when found, would never forgive him for infiltrating the place they both were working so hard to rebuild.

"Harry?" The voice was a bit more pressing, and he felt the hand of Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister and his on-again-off-again girlfriend, on his shoulder. On-again-off-again because she currently held a spot on one of the most elite Quidditch teams in the world, was hardly home, and attracted a lot of attention from fellow players and fans. However he was certain she remained just as faithful to him as she would have if they were exclusively labeled, aside from a few stolen moments in broom cupboards with her teammate, Emerson, whom Harry had met and found his relationship with Ginny to be purely physical.

"Of course I'll let you know," he told her reassuringly after racking his brains for the appropriate answer to her question. She stared at him hard, then nodded solemnly before pressing a kiss to his cheek and the Apparating on spot, her suitcase and broom in hand. She was off to Bulgaria for an extensive training camp and then the start-of-the-season match.

Harry tried to feel something in her absence, but he felt cold. Ron missing meant something wasn't right in his life, and he intended to fix it.

.

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Days turned into weeks, and after demanding the detailed mission portfolio and Apparating out to the place outside Albania where Ron was last seen, he had no choice but to return home empty-handed and restless. He was given an extended excuse from assignments because he could hardly keep his focus or temper in check with Ron missing. After Hogwarts, his friendship with Ron hadn't missed a beat – they went into Auror training together and both graduated together. From then on, they traveled to work together, often got lunch with their best friend and Ron's girlfriend, Hermione Granger, who also worked in the Ministry, and they even spent holidays together.

There was a knock at the door, and when he opened it, he would be lying if he said the sight in front of him surprised him.

It was Hermione, a small bag clutched to her that he recognized as the ever-expanding bag from their quest to find the Hallows. Her eyes were glassy, but she didn't cry; she actually looked a bit haunted.

"I… I always forget just because of all the misfortune in the past, we aren't immune to it now."

It sounded like Hermione – the words were hers – but her voice was hollow. He moved aside to let her in, and she swept past him into the cottage that the three of them shared on occasion they were given a break from their jobs.

She didn't ask him if there was anything knew; she knew that if there was, she would be the first to know. And that's where the foundation of their relationship lied. They had this underlying affinity where they knew what the other innately needed or felt, as one would a brother or sister.

He made her tea and added honey without asking, bringing it back to her and sitting down across from her at the brittle wooden table that had been a gift from the house elves at Hogwarts to her. She sniffed the tea, sipped it, then set it down.

It remained untouched.

"Harry, I can't take it – "

"We both know you never wanted him to take the job."

"I just don't think that – "

" – he can handle himself?" Harry asked, his temper flaring. "You think just because he'll never be as talented as you or me, he shouldn't be an Auror? Hermione, he wasn't given any free passes, he earned this – "

" – I know, Harry, you're being unfair!" she shot back, slamming a hand down on the table to steady herself. The tea cup bounced on its saucer before tipping and spilling onto Hermione's hand. "Ouch! No, I'm fine, let me finish! I just think that we have all been through so much and to be back saving the wizarding world again so soon is pushing your luck – "

"You're better than this, Hermione! You know better than anybody that the Ministry was in shambles after the war; you're helping fix it right now!"

"Listen!" she shouted, tears threatening in her eyes and cheeks red with anger. "I love you both! You can't expect me to sit here while you are sent off on missions that other older, highly capable wizards as just as apt at handling, oh – "

Her eyes found her hand, bright red and blistering. At this, the tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her face with her other free hand, shaking silently.

Harry stood up and knelt down in front of her, taking her hand gently in his and moving his wand in a slow, soothing motion across her skin so that the redness faded and the blisters shrunk to nothing. He swept up the rest of the spilled tea before setting his wand on the table and removing the hand that covered her face gently. Tears still silently poured from her eyes, but she held his gaze just as she always had.

"We're going to find him," Harry told her fiercely, willing himself to believe it even though he felt the lump in his throat. She nodded, and he helped her to her feet. Before he knew it, her arms were around his neck and he found his pulling her close, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

It was a call to hazy memory as soon they started swayed, and Harry grabbed his wand and pointed it at a small, dusty radio in the corner; pretty soon, they were dancing slowly, recollection brimming in Hermione's eyes.

He twirled her and dipped her and stepped on her feet, and she smiled and played along with her own gracious movements and silly hand gestures.

And they were seventeen again in a tent in the middle of nowhere, scared and alone and missing their other half. They were haunted with those memories and new ones, and in that moment, they knew nothing would be easy about the rebuilding stage after the war. Maybe years later when they had families of their own and the Ministry was strong and Hogwarts was restored.

Maybe then they would stop hurting a little bit, and luck would fair on their side.

(It was in that moment that they both came the closest to kissing the other than they ever had before. Their eyes were dusted with fear and emotion and longing for both of their significant others – but as soon as the feeling came, it dissipated, and everything was as it should have been.)

.

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A year later, Harry stood in a tuxedo and watched his two best friends get married. It was a small affair, with the immediate families of the both of them. Ginny was at his side, clutching his hand and grinning, looking incredibly outstanding in a lacey emerald-green dress.

During the reception, Hermione came up to him with a knowing look in her eye. He took her outstretched hand, and she lead him out on the dance floor. They echoed their dances of the past, with a few exceptions: Hermione was leading, they danced much quicker, and she was fully laughing.

When she leaned particularly close, he heard the ghost of her whisper.

"Just returning the favor."