Oneshot.

Blackbird

By: Tegan Malfoy

It was late.

It was always late when she came home these days.

It didn't seem like she was too drunk though this time, so that was something. Carefully, he set the Sobering Up Potion that he had grabbed on instinct back onto his kitchen counter.

With careful movements he moved towards her. She had fallen over in a heap in front of the fireplace, just like she always did. It was no matter to him, they had a system for this by now.

Approaching her curled up form, he slowly bent down, sliding his arm beneath her head before allowing himself to also lay down. After pulling her to his body, spooning her against him, he finally felt her relax.

He didn't know how long they had had this system going on for, but it had to have started at least a month after the war ended. That was a year ago. She had progressed to doing this at least once a week, maybe once every two weeks.

He had long ago learned that it was how she dealt with the war ending. With all of the death that she had seen. With all of the lives that they had lost. With what she had gone through. With the pain.

He couldn't blame her, not really. Some had taken to muggle drugs, others to physical self-mutilation, and some to drinking. She though, she had chosen sex. Of course he had wished that she had a safer, healthier way of dealing with things, but what could he tell her? She had been tortured by curses and by blades and by malnutrition. There had been times when the both of them had thought that they would die. Who was he, far from the picture of perfect mental health, to stop her from her choices.

It was a way for her to have some semblance of control of her life. She could chose whom she went home with. She could chose if she ever saw them again (not that she usually did). She could chose how far she would go with someone. She had a choice in the matter.

It was just slowly killing her inside. She was broken hearted. He could tell. He could usually get out of her whom she had slept with, if for no other reason other than to know whom had seen his friend at her most vulnerable. She grew emotionally attached to people very easily. The war couldn't break that of her. If anything, it made that part of her stronger.

He had lost track though of how many people that she had slept with. It was a fairly high number.

Ron had once figured it out. When the ginger had called his precious bookworm a few choice words regarding her openness towards her bed partners however, he had quickly rendered him unconscious. That was six months ago. Ron had barely spoken to them since.

He cared for her more than he could ever express.

She had stayed when Ron abandoned him during the hunt for Voldemort.

She had never judged him, just as he wouldn't judge her now.

She held him during his moments of weakness, just as he was doing for her.

She was, in his mind, the purest kind of soul. She had fought and she had killed for those she loved. She had defended him more times than he could count on his hands. She had never once lost faith in him. She was, and always would be, his best friend.

Sobs started soon after, shaking her body to the core. Adjusting her so that she was now laying on top of him, her legs bent on either side of his hips, he brought his hand that wasn't supporting her hip to her shoulders. Slowly, he began to rub gently circles against her shirt.

When he noticed that the tears weren't stopping, he took a deep breath, placed a kiss to her forehead, and started singing softly to her,

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly,

Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly,

Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

She tried pushing herself off him when he had finished singing, just as she always did. He simply held her and continued rubbing circles into her back.

"Oh, my little Blackbird," he whispered against her hair, "If you are going to continue with this, than I am going to take care of you. Will you ever learn to accept that?"

She sniffed against his shirt, tightening her fists against the fabric.

"I-I don't know if I can, Harry. I'm broken. Why do you help me?"

Moving his hand from her hip to her hair, he gently began the process of smoothing it down. Her hair had always had a mind of it's own.

"Because, well, because I know that if our roles were reversed, I know that you would be the one comforting me."

"You suffered so much more than I did though?! I'm the one being selfish."

He shook his head against her hair, "No, Hermione. I did suffer. You suffered. Most of our world suffered. We just all deal differently. If this is what you need in order to cope, than I will always be here waiting for you with open arms."

"Why do you do this…every damn time that I come back you're here!"

"I love you. It's what friends do. You know that I love you right?"

And inside her, she did. She always knew. There friendship was too strong for there to be no love between them. Harry Potter loving her made all the sense in the world.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

xxx

This was just a little oneshot that I wanted to write. It wasn't meant to be long or anything, just to portray an emotion and to explore a certain direction with my writing.

It isn't connected at all to The Request of Time. It's just something that came to me and that I really wanted to write.

Please review, and if you haven't checked out The Request of Time, than please, go take a peak! :)

The song was Blackbird by the Beatles by the way.

-Tegan