A.N: Set before the final chapter of Order of the Phoenix. Hermione helps comfort Harry. Weird, fluffy, abstract. Review please.
Hermione had just woken up at around 4:00 the day after. Madame Pomfrey kept on assuring Harry that the reason Hermione had been sleeping for so long had little to do with effects of the spell, but more the exhaustion from the fight.
That still didn't stop him from sitting between her and Ron's bed from the moment he had left Dumbledore's office. He couldn't sleep; he was too filled with grief to do so.
He'd told Ron the moment he was awake and sane. Ron had gotten this look and told Harry he was sorry, and then changed the subject, for which Harry was grateful. He knew that he would have people talking to him about Sirius a lot for the next few months, and he was glad that Ron had given a break from it.
It was now late the night after. Hermione had refused to let Harry tell her anything before he had gone and gotten at least 5 hours of sleep. Harry wasn't sure about this at first, but she seemed so resolved on this that he couldn't refuse. He had trudged up to his dorm and slept until nine. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, filled with nightmares of Sirius dying, and dreams of Harry being able to save him.
When he awoke, he quietly slipped out of the common room and back down to the Hospital Wing. Ron was asleep, but Hermione was up and alert.
"Hi," she said quietly. Harry sat down at the edge of her bed. "I didn't want them to tell me what happened. I wanted you to. No one really knows what happened but you."
Harry sighed. "You know, the usual, fighting, blood, Voldemort made a cameo appearance." He felt at ease with Hermione, as thought just her presence was calming him.
"Oh." Hermione said softly. "Did you, did you fight him?"
"Didn't have a chance." Harry assured her, "Dumbledore did. He was good." Hermione smiled. "But, they killed Sirius." He added softly.
"What?" Hermione asked, clearly not wanting to believe what Harry had told her. He wished he could spare her from this, but it was useless.
"He was killed by a Death Eater, his cousin, actually." Harry told her, adding a quick summary of what had happened in the least painful was he could. He was feeling that empty place where Sirius should be fill with pain. He looked away for a moment, and then back at Hermione.
Hermione's eyes went wide and started to instantly fill with tears. She blinked them away. "Oh Harry," she said. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't say it," He said. "I know what you're going to say, and I don't care if you're right, I can't hear it."
Hermione looked confused. Harry elaborated, "I know you're thinking that it was his own fault for getting killed, because he's reckless and irresponsible, but I can't hear it now, or ever, for that matter."
"Harry," Hermione repeated. She sort of held her arms open, and Harry, sensing what she wanted, climbed into the bed next to her and settled into her embrace. "I wasn't going to say that. I don't think that." He felt a tear fall on his forehead, right on his scar.
"I keep believing that it was my fault." Harry said, suppressing a sob. He hadn't told anyone this, really. Yet he knew that Hermione would understand. It was a girl instinct that he couldn't figure out.
"No, it wasn't." Hermione said soothingly, stroking his hair. "Don't think that, Harry, please."
"I want him back." Harry pleaded, feeling tears escape his eyes. "I keep thinking that if we hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries, he would've lived, he wouldn't have gone through the veil."
Hermione didn't bother to ask what that was, but continued to say soft, soothing things to him as he cried. She didn't let go of him, and held him as long as she could, and Harry loved her for that.
She let him cry until he could no more. Hermione looked down to face him. "I know you can't accept it now, but it's not the end of the world. You've still got us."
"But for how long?" Harry asked bitterly. "It's not going to be long before He starts coming after you and Ron and his family. That's all I have left now. He's going to try to kill you, and then where will I be?"
He wished he hadn't said this. Hermione looked frightened. "Hermione, I didn't mean it…"
"No Harry, you have a point. It won't be long before that happens. Which is why we need to fight back." Hermione told him. "That's why I wanted you to teach me Defense Magic, for that very reason."
They were silent for a long time after that until Harry said, "I keep wishing that I could die. That way I could be with him, and my parents."
"No." Hermione said. "Don't ever say that. Never. Yes, Sirius is with your parents, and that should help ease the guilt a bit, he's with your dad and mum. But you can't wish that you're dead. I won't let you."
"But if I was, you wouldn't be in danger." Harry said forcefully. "Dumbledore said that Voldemort's obsessed with killing me. If he killed me, then he would stop trying to hurt other people."
"Harry, do you honestly believe that he would become a good, law-abiding citizen if he killed you?" Hermione asked.
"I just wish I couldn't feel the pain." Harry whimpered. "It hurts too much."
"I know it does." Said Hermione, "But that's your fuel to go on, because you feel so strongly. It makes you fight harder, and I feel safe with you because of it. I know that if anything dangerous happens, you'll protect me, because you feel the pain. You're an extraordinary person, Harry, think of all the things you faced. And you've come out of every one alive. You've kept Ron and me alive too. And I love you so much."
She leaned down and kissed Harry softly on the lips, her tears mixing with his. Harry knew that this was wrong, but didn't turn away. He stared into her large brown eyes, and moved to kiss her again. He felt the passion rise as he slipped his arms around her waist. Hermione was crying as she kissed him, and he knew that she was trying to make him feel better.
And it was working.
The kiss broke, and Harry stared at her again. "I love you too, Hermione." He said. "And thank you."
"It wasn't out of pity." Hermione said automatically.
"I know." Harry said, truly knowing. "But this…"
"Is just the wrong time." Hermione finished for him. "I know too." They were silent for a moment. "Do you want to sleep here with me?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Harry answered, and fell back into her embrace. They didn't talk to each other, and soon they had both fallen asleep, their breathing falling into the same pattern as they both fought off their fears in their dreams.
At the door to the Hospital Wing, Ginny Weasley let out a long sigh and walked back down the hall back to her dorm, a content smile on her face.
Dedicated to Liz Phair, whom's song "Little Digger" sung my way to the end of this story, and my friend Elizabeth, who, like me, had no one to comfort her when Sirius died.