A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters. These rights are exclusively J.K. Rowling's and her publishers'.

A Pair in the Woods

He fell asleep. For how long, he couldn't say. The last thing he remembered was being incredibly cold, shivering, even though he wore five sweaters, two pairs of pants and three pairs of socks. When he woke up he heard footsteps behind him, leaves rustling beneath tired feet. He turned around. Hermione stopped about ten feet from him. "Mind- mind if I join you?" She asked, her tone cautious.

Harry straightened his glasses, re-lit Hermiones wand and nodded, not looking at her as he did. She took a few steps forward and sat next to him, though being careful not to touch. He looked at her. Her face was pale, thin and very saddened. She stared at her feet, too scared to make eye contact.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I am. I never meant to break your wand. But I had no choice! The snake kept lunging at you and I didn't know what to do, that was the only spell I could think of and had I known that it would-"

"Don't worry about it. Really. I know I never would have made it out alive if you weren't there. I'm not angry." He said this, staring fixedly at the tree in front of him, not really bothering to sound truthful. He just couldn't believe that his wand, the one thing that chose him and was his, will never work for him again. And his best friend had caused that, albeit unintentionally.

"Alright," she said with a small voice. She sounded broken. He looked at her. She hugged her knees and rested her head on them, a blank look on her face. Harry thought he had a pretty good idea of what she may be feeling. She has been trying so hard to be useful, to help, contribute. Even before Ron had left, she was the one who was leading them, trying to lift everyone's spirit. And now he made her feel guilty and unwanted, almost a nuisance. He felt extremely bad with himself and thought that he deserved a well aimed kick to the head for being so insensitive.

"Hermione?" He called, wary of her reaction. She didn't answer but turned her head slightly towards him so he could know that she was listening and not ignoring him. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. A complete arse." She stayed quiet. He noticed that she was shivering. "You're shivering... Come here," he beckoned her to come closer. She looked at him, reproachful, and after a few seconds shuffled herself closer. He draped his blanket around her too.

"Better?" She nodded, but was still trembling with cold. He took hold of her hands and rubbed them in his.

"It's just hard, Hermione. We're not even slightly closer to destroying the horcrux and finding the others. I nearly got us killed for maybe the hundredth time. It was my idea to go to Godric's Hollow, just like it was my idea to infiltrate the ministry. And now my wand is broken too, because I was too thick to notice that I was talking to a bloody snake and not an innocent old woman. Imagine if we have to fight someone and we only have your wand? What can I do, throw rocks at them?" He paused. She looked at him, her face quite impassive. "I let you down. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much." Now he was truthful.

Silence. Hermione started playing with a twig at her feet, drawing circles in the snow with it. She seemed to carefully pick her words before replying. "I'm not let down, Harry. I'm scared. I know it's hard. I can't even begin to comprehend how you must be feeling. We never really talked about it, how you feel about all this. We... Ron and I never asked you. How you cope."

"How I cope?"

"Yes. Knowing you for so long, we took it for granted, you dealing with these things. In our first year, we- well, I can't say what Ron felt, but I was so preoccupied with myself, how frightened I was and how exhilarated, and I never asked you what it was like. Holding the Philosopher's Stone, dealing with Quirell. Facing Him for the first time." She paused. "And in our second year. With the basilisk, and Riddle. And our third year, the dementors... You saved me then and I never thanked you properly. All of these things- the Triwizard Tournament, the graveyard, your dreams, Sirius dying... Dumbledore dying as well. You don't - you never explain- you just keep it all to yourself. I wish you trusted me enough to share your feelings." Her voice broke. She seemed determined not to say anything more.

Harry thought about what she said. It was true, to a certain degree. He never really poured his heart out, shared his feelings completely to anyone. Not Ron, not Hermione. Not even Sirius, and definitely not Dumbledore. He was a private person. Never having anyone to talk to in ten years, ten miserable years at Privet Drive, made him the secluded man that he was. He was frustrated. How could she never understand? How could she think that he didn't trust her, that he didn't care enough to share? Couldn't she realize that he never wanted to talk about these things to anyone, not just her? He looked at her. She was at the verge of tears again. His heart twisted and his face contorted to the sight.

"Hermione... Hermione, how can you say that? Look at me." He searched her eyes. She turned her gaze to the other direction. "Please, Hermione. Let me explain," he pleaded, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. Hermione slowly turned towards him. She was crying, tears falling quietly on her chest. "I can't say how I felt- how I still feel about these moments. I don't have any recollection about my thoughts of these events. It's... scaring me, sometimes. If I try to remember how and why I've done the things I've done, said the words I said, it makes me feel like I wasn't human, like I was possessed and controlled by someone else. I thought you and Ron were the same. That's why I never mentioned these things after they happened, because talking about them more than describing the chain of events, what everyone did and said and when, was pointless to me. I'm sorry it's like that. It's just that... When these things happen, and they keep happening to us, I don't think. I do, I act, I speak without planning, automatically and thoughtlessly. I wish I could be different." He stopped. Hermione drank every word, every pause and didn't reply.

Harry felt more tired and slightly irritated. He never talked about himself like that. He never had to. But Hermione seemed intent on keeping him talking.

"There are... some things I can talk about. What do you want to hear?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Your childhood."

He stared at her, confused. "My childhood?"

"Yes. Your life before Hogwarts. Your time at the Dursleys."

"Why would you want to hear about that?" Harry frowned. That was a time he didn't like to think of.

"Many smart and accomplished psychologists say that a person's childhood defines who he is as an adult."

"Yes, Hermione, but these 'psychologists' are Muggles. They hardly make any sense for us wizards-" he stopped talking abruptly, realizing what he said. He carefully looked at Hermione. She looked hurt and angry. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have thought that. That's not true and I know it." Her face smoothed, content.

"That's not a time I like to remember. The Dursleys were horrible to me. They... well, they treated me like a slave. Forced me to cook for them, clean the house. Allowed me to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, with their high generosity and compassion. I remember uncle Vernon saying 'you should thank us for not making you sleep in the attic, boy, whenever it's raining it gets flooded!' And when I started school, they never cared about my accomplishments, my grades, even though I was much better than Dudley in everything. Well, not social skills. When I asked if I could do my homework in the living room when they watched some program on the television they looked disgusted at the very thought and found some chore for me to do, and didn't even listen when I said that I'd get a zero because I won't be able to complete the assignment." Harry filled up with old resentment and rage at the Dursleys. "But I didn't know better. That's what I thought every family was like. I never complained to anyone because I never even thought that they did anything wrong."

They were silent for a few minutes. Then Hermione said, "Harry... I'm so, so sorry to hear-"

"And don't even get me started about how they kept my heritage and my identity from me!" Her response triggered another wave of information to escape from him. "They never even told me my parents' names, before Hagrid came. Whenever I asked aunt Petunia she only said 'your father was a worthless and unemployed drunk and your mother, my sister, was of-the-roof crazy. And no questions!'" He let out a short laugh, like a bark. Hermione was silently crying again. He looked at her, anger slowly ebbing away and being replaced by strong feelings of affection towards his best friend. He was happy that she cared but slightly annoyed. One of the reasons for him not to talk about these things was dealing with reactions like this one. "See..? That's exactly why I don't like to talk about these things. I hate it when people pity me."

"I'm... I'm not pitying you" she said, drawing breaths between sobs. "I'm hating myself for never asking, never... knowing." He blinked.

"No! No, Hermione, what are you hating yourself for? I never said these things because I didn't want- because I never wished- argh!" He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He was never able to comfort her. That was Ron's specialty.

"I never knew, Harry. I always thought of you as my best friend, my partner, someone I could never live without. And not once did I ask about how you grew up, why you never talked about your feelings. I knew that the Dursleys weren't pleasant. But not like this. You never had family, until Sirius. And then you lost him too..."

Harry was touched. He didn't want in the slightest to talk about Sirius, but he thought he owed her that much. "Losing Sirius was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. More than watching Cedric Diggory die, more than watching You-Know-Who come back, more than losing Dumbledore... Though that was a close second." He wished that she would stop crying. Harry draped his arm around her, pulling her close. She leaned her head against his shoulder and hugged his torso, her tears splashing quietly on his many sweaters. "But I still have you and Ron. Well, you." She laughed. Harry smiled. "And I wouldn't want to be with anyone else at this moment, Hermione. You're my best friend. I wouldn't survive a moment without you." He stroked her shoulder.

"Sure you will. You catch all our food and you do the protective enchantments as well as I do. And I'm not really contributing to our mission any longer, do I?" Harry could tell that she wasn't joking, though she tried to appear as if she was.

"That's not true. I don't think that. But that's not what I meant, any way." She lifted her head from his shoulder and they looked into each others eyes. Hers filled up with tears again. Harry was surprised how beautiful her eyes were, how brown, like fresh chocolate, like a broomstick's handle.

Suddenly awkward, he cleared his throat. "Do you miss Ron?" He asked, trying to remind her about her supposed love interest. It took her a few moments to answer.

"No. He betrayed us. Ran back because things were getting uncomfortable for him. He left m-" she looked at him, trying to see if he caught her tongue slip. He pretended not to. "Us... He left us and for all he knows we're already dead." She was fuming. Harry gave her a few minutes to relax before he talked.

"I think he knows we're not dead. They would print it all over the papers if we were." Harry didn't know why he was protecting Ron, but it seemed to calm Hermione a little.

"Maybe."

"How do you feel about him? About Ron?" He asked, cautious.

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry." She said curtly.

"I know you don't. But I think it'll be good for you. I may not be as good as you are with feelings, but seeing as there's no one else here..." She giggled. "And you owe me, I pretty much told you my life's story just now, so..." That made her laugh louder. But it was a long time until she started to talk. Harry waited patiently.

"I..." She began. "Well, I think I like him. You know, like-like him. You can laugh." But he didn't. This wasn't funny to him. He knew it was extremely hard for her to admit, especially to herself. "I guess I always have, in some way. Even when I was with Krum, even before we were friends, in first year, before you saved me from that troll." Once again, tears filled her eyes. "And he finally begins to return these feelings and then we have to leave everything for this stupid saving the world mission and he becomes selfish and egoistic and he... he..." She was barely making any sense and now she became almost unintelligible. "He leaves, Harry! Leaves me... What... what do I do..?" She looked at him, her face wet with tears, pleading for an answer. He was surprised to feel himself crying as well. It was almost a physical pain, seeing her so miserable.

"I don't know, Hermione. I can't tell you that he'll come around. I can't promise that it'll be alright. In our current situation I won't be surprised If we'll find ourselves surrounded by Death Eaters in ten minutes." This only seemed to depress her more. Harry was getting anxious. He wanted to cheer her up but he didn't know how. "Hermione, please stop crying. I only meant... I can only promise you one thing. I'm here. I always was and always will be. I love you, more than anyone else in the world and I can't do this without you. I won't leave you." He hugged her harder. There was a comfortable silence.

"You love me?" She whispered after a few minutes.

"Of course I do. And you love me too. That's a fact, Granger." She laughed. Then she began wriggling in his arms. Thinking that she was uncomfortable, he released her.

But then she kissed him. Harry froze. It felt weird- Hermione was kissing him, Harry, her best friend. Her tears fell onto his and mixed as they slid down their faces. But it was still... nice. She wasn't forceful, or hurried. She didn't attack his face. It was passionate, but slow, tender. Loving. Harry felt that she tried to convey some message, feelings that weren't possible to put through words or a hug. And he kissed her back, telling her that he agreed with that message, whatever it was.

They didn't break the kiss. Harry felt that if they did, it would be too uncomfortable, too awkward between them. For he knew that this wasn't meant to be. She loved Ron, she told him so. And he loved Ginny, intended to reunite with her, if they survived and all this war and sorrow were over.

He couldn't tell how much time had passed. Time didn't seem to matter. Their lips kept moving, never breaking apart. Their tongues brushed each other, speaking feelings instead of words. Their noses kept bumping and Harry almost laughed, but contained himself. Hermione leaned against him, one hand on his chest, the other on his knee. He noticed that his hands were on the ground and, thinking that he should do something with them he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer. She bit his lower lip and he made a sound. It was something between a moan and a sigh. Apparently that sound broke the magic, because Hermione disconnected their lips and opened her eyes. She didn't look at all awkward, or shy. She looked intent, almost angry, her eyes full with meaning, with a fire of emotion that he has never seen in her before. He didn't know what to say, had no words in him after that second, that minute, hour, year, lifetime of a kiss. So he said nothing at all.

They just stared at each other. Hermione's look turned somber, then loving and sorrowful. Harry thought that his face must've looked the same. After a while, Hermione leaned against his chest and he hugged her shoulders again. Contrary to what he thought, there were no awkwardness and tension between them. The kiss felt right. They didn't speak for a long time after that.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "You still love Ginny, correct?" Harry waited a few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, I do." He said. Hermione nodded and stroked his abdomen. He shivered, but not because of the cold. "She's the love of my life, Hermione. She's so brave, and smart, and funny... beautiful, too. And she likes me for who I am, not because of my name or my scar." Hermione said nothing but kept stroking his stomach. "I've been thinking. If we survive this, if we win, I want to marry her. If she'll have me."

"Definitely, Harry. She will definitely have you. She doesn't know I know this, but when she was twelve I found a piece of parchment in her room with 'Mrs. Ginny Potter' written all over it. I know you'll be very happy together." Harry smiled bitterly. If he had found out about that parchment himself he would have been the happiest man alive. But hearing it from Hermione, and in this scenario made him feel a little sad.

"Thanks, Hermione. I wish I could say the same about Ron."

She smiled and said "I wish I could too." They stayed quiet for the longest time yet. Then Hermione spoke. "Harry, you should get some sleep. I'll finish the watch." Harry was glad he could go somewhere and think about what happened.

"Yeah. Right. Sleep." He gently pushed her away so he could stand. His feet were numb from sitting for such a long period of time. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry." He started walking towards the tent when she called for him. "Harry..." She sounded sad, tired. He returned. "I love you."

Harry smiled sadly. "Love you more."

As he entered the tent and lay on his bed, five sweaters and all, he thought things will never be the same for them after that night. There will always be this memory, this wonderful, stinging moment in both their minds. Their platonic hugs and kisses won't feel simple from now on- they'll feel lacking, fake. He thought that maybe that kiss was too much trouble than it's worth.

But as he drifted into much welcomed sleep he considered the possibility that that kiss will actually make things better.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I apologize for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes (and I am sure that there are a lot of them), English isn't my native language and I was never very good at grammar.

Please leave a review if you want, it'll be much appreciated :)

OYesIDid.