Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the song 'Airplanes,' but I do own a cute pair of purple sandals. Be jealous.

I'm really surprised I haven't seen a fic with this song involved, seeing as how it's been so popular lately. But oh well! This has been bugging me for a couple days and now, and I've just now typed it out. I'm not quite sure if I like how it turned out- you be the judge.

Much love and cupcakes,

DM1301

Airplanes

Hermione lay on the soft grass outside of their tent, looking up earnestly at the night sky. The stars were in abundance, and there was no light pollution to diminish their sparkle and shine. She was looking for something very important that she desperately needed at the moment- a shooting star.

Ever since she was a little girl, Hermione would stay up late some nights searching the endless sky for a shooting star. Her mother used to tell her that if you wished on shooting stars, your dreams were sure to come true. And though Hermione was a young woman now and should have outgrown such fantasies, she couldn't help but look for that wishing star. Her eyes swam back and forth across the sky. She'd been out here for a couple hours already she guessed, but all she'd seen so far were airplanes. She sighed in disappointment as she spotted yet another one. The search for the horcruxes was slowly taking its toll on her, though she'd never admit it out loud. She knew that Harry counted on her to be the one who was relentless and steady, absolutely never faltering. Everyone else already had. Ron switched back in forth between determination mixed with loyalty and anger tinged with jealousy. Ginny was desperation. And everyone else was just leaning on Harry to hurry up, to kill Voldemort so they could all live in peace already. Hermione was the only one who let him be and who let him lean on her, instead of the other way around.

'I wish this weren't so hard. I wish Harry didn't have to do this.' Though she would always be there for Harry, Hermione couldn't help but wish she were also able to show what she felt; to show her pain and fear and anger. But no, someone had to be stable.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice startled her and she jumped a little. "What have you been doing out here?"

"Oh, just looking at the stars." Yet another airplane passed through her vision, and she sighed.

"Well, as fun as that sounds, could you come in please? It's getting late." Hermione silently got up and began walking back towards the tent.

"Are you all right Hermione?" Harry asked as he held the tent flap aside so she could enter. Hermione stopped next to him.

"Harry... do you think that... we could pretend airplanes are shooting stars, and our wishes would still come true?"

Harry was taken aback by her sudden question. It sounded so... un-Hermione like. "Uh, I don't know. Why?" He saw sadness cross Hermione's face for a mere second before what he was sure was a fake smile replaced it.

"I could really use a wish right now, that's all. Goodnight." Hermione walked into the tent, leaving Harry outside to ponder what she had said. Soon after she had gone to bed, he went back in the tent and sat on the edge of her bed. He brushed her cheek softly with the back of his hand.

"If I could Hermione... I'd be your shooting star." He whispered. Harry stood, looked at Hermione's peaceful face, and then went to his own bed to get sleep for what he was sure was going to be a difficult next day.