Hey guys! Another HP fic for you.
So, the Harry/Hermione dance scene from the DH movie is one of my all-time favorite scenes, and I've wanted to write it out for a while. It is not technically canon to the books, since (I looked it up) Ron actually did not have the radio with him until after he returned, and I am really picky about staying canon in my stories, but I think I managed to change it up just enough to make it work because I really do love it and could totally see book Harry doing something like that for Hermione.
Hopefully you like it. I'm actually pretty happy with it myself. :)
It was raining-pouring really. Water fell in freezing sheets outside the tent and was pelted violently in every direction by the unforgiving wind, which only served to add to the general misery of the situation. The weather was so terrible, Harry was forced to abandon his watch outside the tent and seek shelter within, at least for a few minutes, to thaw out a bit. The heat inside the place enveloped him as he ducked in, fogging the frames of his glasses, and for a moment, he just stood there, allowing the welcome warmth to wash over his frozen frame and feeling his mood lighten significantly as it did so-which, all in all, wasn't saying a whole lot.
By abandoning his post outside, they ran the risk of being caught unawares by any number of unwelcome visitors, however with darkness having almost completely fallen and the weather as bad as it was, visibility was next to nothing anyway. Keeping watch near the tent flap outside would save them maybe five seconds if they were found out, but Harry figured those five seconds, though they may have made the difference between escape and capture, were not worth the extreme risk of hypothermia the current weather posed to him. It was still early, the sun having set less than half an hour ago, and, if they were lucky, the worst of it would pass before it got truly late and he could resume his lookout once more.
Once Harry, after shedding his coat, which was rather damp, had regained some feeling in his hands, he allowed himself a look around the tent. All seemed quite like it had before he'd gone outside, which was to say, not neat exactly, for neither he nor Hermione had been in much of a temper to do much beyond basic tidying after abysmal meals-when they occurred at all-since Ron's departure, but not quite cluttered enough to be classified as messy either. Truth be told, they simply did not have enough belongings with them for the place to really fall too deeply into disrepair.
The tent, while it had been magically expanded on the inside to more than accommodate their persons, was not large and it did not take Harry very long at all to locate Hermione, who was, unsurprisingly, not asleep. She was, instead, seated on the edge of her bed, looking about as dejected as he had ever seen her, though, as of the past fortnight, this was not a rare look for her at all. She had been down ever since Ron left, which was, as far as Harry was concerned, perfectly understandable. He, too, was far from happy with the loss of his best mate, as well as guilt-ridden at the idea that Ron had been right in his accusations and that Harry was continuing to drag not only himself but Hermione as well, through this miserable existence with no plan at all. It was of little comfort to realize that, given the state of things in the wizarding world, her fate as a Muggleborn witch, even without the horcrux hunt, would likely have been very similar to, or even worse than, the one she currently lived.
Harry watched his friend for a moment. She didn't appear to notice, perched on the edge of her bed as she was, hands folded in her lap, face downcast, eyes on the floor. Hermione's expression was one of extreme loss, sadness, and abandonment. Her eyes, as was quite usual as of late, were red from crying not long ago, though at the moment they appeared dry. Soft music drifted from the Muggle wireless that sat a short distance from her, which she must have conjured at some point and then presumably forgot about-Harry was mildly impressed that there was a station available to them out in the middle of nowhere. Slytherin's locket hung around her neck, resting against her collarbone, and was undoubtedly no help to her current mood.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Hermione so unhappy. Likely it had been in their sixth year at Hogwarts, during the time Ron spent with Lavender Brown as a snogging partner. There was something to be said, surely, about the fact that Ron Weasley was apparently the only person on earth with the power to destroy Hermione like this. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if it wouldn't have been better for the lot of them if the two had acted on their feelings long ago.
Eventually, Hermione met his eyes, but she said nothing. "Weather's awful," Harry supplied nevertheless, "I can't see anything anyway and I'd rather face capture with my fingers and toes still attached." Hermione, for her part, did not argue with him. She did not give him her patented look of disapproval or launch into a rousing speech of the benefits of keeping watch, even with frostbite, if it saved their lives. Her expression did not change in the slightest, nor did she make any real effort to move at all. Her only response was a single, apathetic shrug; one which clearly communicated that she no longer cared, that she was tired, that she did not want to fight anymore. And it was this response, so uncharacteristic for Hermione, more than anything else, which shook Harry to his core.
His eyes landed on the locket again, motionless against the still backdrop of her sweater, and, in that moment, something just snapped in him. Simply tired of seeing his friend so upset and of being helpless to do anything about it, he found himself striding forward, crossing the relatively small space toward her. She watched his progress but said nothing, and when he stopped before her, he held her gaze for a moment, neither of them reacting at all, before holding out a hand to her. Hermione's eyes fell to his outstretched limb before slowly making their way up to his face again, the barest traces of a question appearing behind them. Harry gave her half a smile in invitation and, her eyes not leaving his, Hermione unenthusiastically allowed him to help her to her feet.
Once she stood before him, Harry wasted no time in reaching out and gently lifting the locket over her head before tossing it aside. Hermione looked at him in bewilderment and some shock. He simply stepped away from her, bent down to increase the volume on the wireless, and stood back before her once more. He took her hands in each of his, led her away from her bed, and began swinging them back and forth to the music. It was no song he knew, though that wasn't saying much as Hogwarts did not play Muggle music and the Dursleys were not the type of people to listen to anything that wasn't proper and classical. It sounded slightly old, but was upbeat and worked well to Harry's purpose.
Hermione did not resist as he maneuvered the two of them in a slightly ridiculous dance, Harry's moves becoming more outrageous by the minute. He had never been much of a dancer, though style and skill were not required for his plan. He twirled her under his arm and found himself grinning. She did not return the gesture, but looked remarkably happier. He continued his over-exaggerated steps and spins, determined to see her smile even a little, nearly laughing at himself numerous times as he did so.
He spun her under his arm again and Hermione, the smallest traces of a smirk crossing her features, finally stopped dragging her feet and spun him jokingly under her arm in return. Harry laughed and her face broke into a real smile, the first he'd seen in ages, and he thought that as long as they could still smile like this occasionally, just maybe they could continue on with this horrible quest a little longer.
By now, both were enjoying themselves quite thoroughly. Hermione, in seemingly wild abandon, was dancing just as enthusiastically as Harry was, allowing herself to be spun about to the music and to forget about her worries for a while. It was obvious that this reprieve was only temporary for both of them, that as soon as the song ended and the silly dance came to a close, things would be just as difficult and wretched as they'd ever been, but for the moment, no matter how short, it was a break from the misery that had been slowly consuming them for the past weeks.
Harry, who had been circling with Hermione at arm's length, spun her into him now and then twirled her out again before closing the distance between them once more and, with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other holding her hand out beside them, swayed from side to side with her in an exaggerated circle. Hermione was laughing lightly against him and he felt extremely proud of himself for succeeding in momentarily cheering her up.
The song played through its chorus again and the music behind the singing began to wind down, clearly nearing it's end. The two stopped circling and simply swayed back and forth to the dying tune. Hermione leaned forward to rest her chin on Harry's shoulder where her free hand had previously been, and then turned her head so it was pillowed there, rather like a hug, as they swayed. She was very close to Harry, but he found it rather comfortable as he held her, which was, he thought, a testament to the strength of their friendship. Their relationship had never been complicated like hers and Ron's had almost always been. Theirs was the bond of two friends who were more like siblings, but nothing more. There was nothing intimate or uncomfortable about their embrace. It was simply one of exchanged comfort and support, and both were better for it.
The song faded into silence and a second later, an advertisement had taken its place. The dance was over, but Harry and Hermione did not immediately move away. Instead, he continued to hold her for a few more seconds, his face buried in the bushy waves of her hair while she curled into him. "Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder, so softly Harry thought he very well may have imagined it, and, after another short moment, whatever magic had overtaken them was broken and Hermione pulled away, all traces of her smile gone again and a single tear track visible against her cheek. She held his gaze as she slowly stepped away, her brown eyes communicating much more than her words ever could, before she turned, retrieved the horcrux from where Harry had tossed it earlier, and slipped it back over her head. Harry, with a quiet sigh, watched as she turned off the wireless, resumed her post at the edge of her bed, and pulled a dark arts book halfheartedly into her lap, before he turned toward the tent's exit again. It might have been wishful thinking, but the wind seemed to have let up some during their dance and he decided he'd done all he could for Hermione at the moment and should really take up his sentry duties once more.
He stopped at the tent flap and glanced behind him again to find Hermione's eyes on him. He met her gaze and offered a small smile in acknowledgement. She returned it with an even smaller, somber smile before turning her attention to the textbook before her, likely in yet another attempt to find a way to destroy the locket that hung once more from her neck.
After retrieving and drying his coat and casting an impervius charm and a handful of warming spells on himself and his clothing, Harry stepped back outside and, staying as far under the tent's small overhang as he could manage, settled in for another long, uneventful few hours on watch in the poor weather. Hermione, he knew, needed some time alone now and he would grant her just that, even if it meant risking frostbite or severe illness in the freezing temperatures. And yet, the heavy rain and cold wind did not seem quite as unpleasant as it had done before, though it persisted all the same, and Harry felt that Hermione was not the only one who had been helped some by the actions of the past few minutes.
And, as far as he was concerned, that made it well worth it.
Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.
And for my PJO readers out there, if you're reading this, I plan to write some more for you soon, so stay tuned!