Because... the dark lord does not rely on muggle devices- Clarinet. :D

lol

This is not shipping Harry/Hermione. It was just a part in the movie where the two of them started dancing, as friends. I hope I brought out the poignant-y part of this~

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter.


Her hair is a tangled mess, pulled back loosely into a ponytail. It drapes over her shoulders and she sighs. Hermione muses lightly, swallowing the hiccups back down. The stinging tears are threatening to fall and she wipes them away gazing into the distance where Ron had been a few moments ago. The locket weighs her down, tempting her with the freedom to be away from this painful silence, flicking its tongue away at her mind's ear. There is no time to cry, she tells herself.

There has never been time to cry.

She recalls as children, playing soldiers, waving wands and murmuring incarnations. A swish and flick, pointing the blunt end of polished sticks daintily. The sparks that burst and collapsed over one another in glee, with the knowledge of falling to the ground, she has always been fascinated with them. The first time, she danced about with them, a rainbow of sparkling dreams that twisted and curved around her petite body. A rush of rapid steps due to exhilaration, of wonder and joy. Her parents watched from the door way, in the shadows, a smile spread across their faces.

Her fingers slide across the grimy gravel of the floor. The radio is playing out an oldies, the flame of the candle flickering. She can almost hear the screechy music that Mrs. Weasley has always been playing each year during Christmas, in the warm hut of The Burrow, almost like home. She buries her head deeper into the comfort of her knees, trying hard to think of the mission at hand. Her fingers subconsciously draw out an image, a triangle with a circle and line embedded in it. She wishes she could banish them away with a swish and flick. To clear up the misty haze that has clouded over her mind, lighting up the maze.

I'm hanging there, don't you see?

Harry approaches and she tilts her head at his awkward figure. He holds out his hand and she stares at it, the weary wheels in her mind working on- she's tired. She takes it and he lifts her up. He removes the locket from her neck and she gazes curiously at him. He flings it away from sight and Hermione's breath catches slightly. She can still feel the fingers of the cursed necklace on her neck, closing in. She locks her gaze upon Harry's own and allows him to pull her away from the nagging existence of the locket.

She holds a grim smile, letting him lead her away like a puppet. She can see that he's tired, too. He fakes a smile and lugs at her rusty limbs. They both listen to the music, unraveling the beat.

I was held in chains but now I'm free.

He does a goofy grin, before awkwardly swaying his body to the beat of the music, tugging on her stiff arms. Her knees buckle slightly, but she knows he's there to catch her if she ever does fall. He continues with his actions and her lips curl up a little, before she bites them and her eyes dart away. The constant swaying is rubbing the tension off her and she feels like a child, far away from the constant raging of wars.

Swish and flick, she can feel her wrist alive again, the joints of her bones oiled and slick, almost erupting with happiness. She leans in and out, out of beat and imperfect, skipping around just as he is. A slight grin appears on Hermione's face and that in turn, sparks one on Harry's. The tent feels much brighter now.

He pulls her in and away, stumbling over his own foot. She grips onto his coarse fingers and it keeps his balance. He smiles at her and she returns that gesture, breaking out into rapid, fluid steps that she wildly invents. He does the same, before twirling her around. She giggles and the whole tent is soon filled with the laughter of two children. Step, twirl, step, step, laugh, dip, twirl, twirl, there is no pattern to this mayhem, an innocent dance of two children.

She draws him into her embrace and they manage to hug, still moving their bodies gently to the music. The deep alto of the singer warms up the tent with the scent of home.

We're happy, Ma, we're having fun.

She wishes she could tell her parents that, but they've forgotten about her. She feels weak and helpless, in need of a warm hand. She sighs, leaning against Harry's body, watching their own blurred shadows under the dim light. They are so tall, giants, adults. She feels short and fragile. The song is fading away, becoming a muted silence.

The magic is fading, the bright blots of light vanishing and leading into an absence of colour. She releases Harry and stares into his eyes. He nods and she turns away, her stumps-like foot leading her out of the tent.

He stares at her retreating figure, before whispering, "Thank you."

She pauses, but bows her head slightly.


Yay :D ...

And I don't get why people hate this part because it's not in the book... T3T

tralalalalalala :D

Ollie