Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for the 19000 Prompts/One Week Competition - Hiddenite

The Scavenger Hunt Competition - OTP fic.

The Disney Character Competition - Bambi's Mum. (A Character who's death saddened you. Severus Snape)

The Hunger Games - Katniss Everdeen - Harry Potter

A Promise Of Tomorrow

She apparated directly to the doorstep of the still forbidding house and let her self in to the hallway quickly. She was vaguely surprised that the wards still allowed her entrance. After all, he had made it very clear that she, and everyone else for that matter, were unwelcome. He just wanted to be left alone. Still, he was her best friend, and she wasn't going to sit back and do nothing while he killed himself.

She walked through the hallways, checking rooms as she went, finally finding him in front of the fire in the library. She watched him from behind for a moment, her heart sinking when she realised he was drinking, again.

He turned to look at her, rolling his eyes at the look on her face.

"I wondered how long it would take you to show up here," he muttered, waving a lazy hand at the opposite armchair for her to sit down. Taking a seat, she looked at him properly for the first time in months. His usual bright Emerald eyes had dulled to the colour of hiddenite. His face was drawn, gaunt, and he had lost weight. He looked terrible.

"Well, you won't come and see any of us any more. This is the only place I know I can corner you," she told him matter-of-factly, watching him run a frustrated hand through messy hair.

"Why did you want to corner me, exactly? I'm fairly sure I made myself clear when I spoke to you last time."

"Hmm. You were. When do I listen to you though, especially about your well being?"

He chuckled bitterly. "Indeed. When does anyone?"

She sighed. "Harry, we're worried about you. We're your friends, why won't you let us help you?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't bloody well want help, Hermione? I don't want therapy, or potions to make me feel better. I don't want to talk, or go to Quidditch, or the latest Ministry Ball. I don't want anything, other than to be left alone. Don't you think I deserve some peace?"

"Harry, he wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

"You have no idea what he wanted, Hermione. You hated him, you all did. No one cared what he wanted."

"I don't hate him. Not now. We wouldn't have hated him before if you'd told us the truth," she argued. This was a familiar argument, they had taken part in it at least seven times in the past few months.

"You know I couldn't."

"I know you didn't. And I understand why. But Harry, you have to get a grip. You don't even know if he's dead!"

"Hermione, we saw him die. We saw him take the bite, we saw him slumped against the wall. He's dead. If he wasn't, he would have come to me."

"Would he? Or would he try and make you get over him, to live your life with someone better thought of by most of the Wizarding World?"

Harry turned to stare at her through narrowed eyes.

"You know something."

It wasn't a question, and she cringed internally at the deathly gaze he was pinning her to the chair with. She tried to speak a few times, but the words wouldn't come, leaving her opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.

She stood up carefully, still eyeing him with a little bit of alarm. She had seen that look before, but never aimed at her. When she reached the door, she finally managed to speak.

"Clean yourself up, stop drinking, and sort your life out, Harry. Then I'll tell you where he is."

With that, she moved quickly from the room and down the stairs. She could hear bangs and crashes from the library, and she winced when he shouted out in anger. She hated to make him feel so bad, but she comforted herself with the fact that if this didn't work, nothing would.

xxxx

Two Months Later

Hermione was still waiting for contact off Harry, and she was getting more and more nervous. What had she done? Had she tipped him over the edge? Did he not believe her? She was planning to give it just a few more days before she returned to Grimmauld Place, when she received a visit from an unfamiliar owl.

Taking the letter, she offered the owl a treat, which it refused, merely hopping in front of her. She rolled her eyes, slitting open the letter quickly. Seeing the familiar writing, she took a deep breath and sat down, the relief of hearing from him making her legs feel like jelly.

Dear Hermione,

I want to start this letter with an apology, to you, and the rest of my friends. I haven't been fair to any of you since the end of the war, and I should have given you all more credit. My biggest apology though, is for scaring you the last time I saw you. I never want to see such fear in your eyes again, and certainly not caused by me personally.

Since your visit, I've done a lot of thinking, and dare I say it, soul searching. Needless to say, it wasn't a lot of fun, and I'm glad there was no one around to see it. I do feel much better now, though it's taking time. I don't feel exactly like my old self, but I also don't feel the need to get on the drink as soon as I wake up in the morning. Thank you for being strong enough to stand up to me, and for not letting me drown myself into an oblivion, as I was trying to do.

I was hoping we could arrange to meet up and discuss... things, but I don't want to do it at Grimmauld Place. The house holds far too many bad memories, and I no longer wish to live there. I think it could have been part of the problem to start with. I've moved into a little cottage on the outskirts of Surrey. You, and Ron if he wishes to join you, are welcome to visit at any time. If it is alright with you, I'd like for you to come for lunch, perhaps one day in the next week or so.

Send a date with the owl who delivered this letter to you, he'll get it back to me quickly.

Love, Harry

Hermione sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. He had done it. She was so happy for him, and, if she was honest, for herself. It would be nice to have her best friend back.

Pulling a clean sheet of parchment out of a drawer in her desk, she quickly wrote a reply and carefully tied it to the waiting owl. It didn't register until later that night when she was in bed, that the eyes of the owl were the same colour emerald as Harry's used to be.

xxxx

Harry was nervous. Hermione was due to arrive any minute, and he was absolutely terrified of what she might tell him. Was Severus alive? He had obsessed over that very question since the last time he saw her, and it had not made getting better any easier. So many times he had wanted to throw in the towel, to concede defeat and pick up a bottle of Ogdens Firewhiskey.

A bell in the wards alerted him to her arrival, and he moved quickly to the door to let her in. She looked as nervous as he felt, but when she smiled at him, he relaxed a little and pulled her carefully into a hug.

"You look so much better," she told him, burying her head into his shoulder, taking in the clean scent she remembered from before the war took over their lives.

"I feel better. Come on in, I've made a chicken salad," he replied, leading her through the brightly lit hallway to the kitchen, where they sat at a quaint breakfast nook.

Harry fetched over the salad, and some fresh bread.

"Do you want butterbeer, pumpkin juice, or Cola?" he asked her, smiling when her eyes lit up at the mention of cola. Being brought up in the Muggle world, Harry knew she missed little things like that in her day to day life.

Getting two cans from the fridge, he sat facing her.

"When did you buy this place," she asked, looking around in interest.

"I didn't. This cottage was my Great Grandparents retirement cottage. The goblins forwarded me the paperwork for all the properties I've inherited, and when I decided to move out of Grimmauld Place, this was the home that stood out to me the most."

"It's beautiful," she told him with a small smile. It was so good to see the sparkle back in his eyes, that it made her feel almost giddy.

"I've missed you," he said after a minute of silence.

"I missed you. I'm not the only one."

She watched as his eyes widened. He could tell by her tone that she wasn't talking about Ron.

"So, he is alive then?"

She nodded slightly, unsure how to explain to him what had happened.

"He is. When we left the shack, Fawkes turned up and healed him. He wanted to stay and help, but Fawkes flashed him off to a safe house. Dumbledore had it all planned out before he died."

"Shocker," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. He should have known the meddling old man would have something to do with it.

"Yes, well. Anyway, after the battle, he allowed himself to et doubts about your relationship, and stupidly convinced himself you were better off without him. A week or so before I came to see you, Fawkes came to me, and took me to Severus. He was a mess, Harry, as much as you were for sure. I told him much the same as I told you, only, and please don't hate me for this, I showed him some of the memories I have of you after the war. Including the first argument we had about him when you told me you loved him."

Hermione tensed, ready for him to shout at her. She jumped when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Even when I was in the state I was in, I could never hate you. You're my best friend."

She nodded as he let go, sitting himself back in his seat.

"So, will he see me?" Harry asked unsure.

"He's looking forward to it. He's nervous naturally, though of course he won't admit it."

"Of course," Harry agreed.

"I'll fetch him here, tomorrow afternoon, if you want?" she asked, chuckling a little when he nodded eagerly. "Alright, I have to go, I have work. I'll see you tomorrow, alright."

xxxx

Severus was a ball of nervous energy when Hermione arrived to pick him up, though he hid it behind his customary glare. She smiled at him when she arrived, holding a hand out for him to apparate straight away. She was using her lunch break to ferry him about, and he was very grateful to her.

They appeared outside a beautiful countryside cottage, honeysuckle on the walls and beautiful flowers in the garden. It was a perfect place to live, Severus thought.

"Severus," Harry gasped from the doorway, capturing the older man's attention straight away. Harry looked well, much better than in the memories Hermione had shared with him, anyway.

"Harry," he replied, a slight tremble in his voice that he hoped the didn't hear.

"I have to go back to work," Hermione said, kissing each of their cheeks in turn. Harry I expect to see you at mine tomorrow, alright? Severus, you're welcome to join us, of course."

With an airy wave she was gone, leaving the two men staring at each other.

"I'm sorry, do you want to come through to the back," Harry said suddenly, gesturing through the hallway to Severus. He nodded, following Harry through a small kitchen to a patio in the back garden, where refreshments had been carefully laid out.

"I missed you," Harry mumbled, as they stood side by side awkwardly, neither really knowing what to say.

"Your absence has been sorely unacceptable," Severus replied in his customary formal speech, drawing a smile from Harry.

"You're an idiot," Harry told him, taking his hand in his own.

Looking slightly affronted, Severus frowned. "Why?"

"For thinking, that after the time we spent together, I could ever be happy living without you."

"You mean it? Still?"

"I'll always mean it, Sev. I love you."

Pulling Harry closer, Severus rested his free hand on Harry's cheek.

"My Brat. I love you too."

The kiss they shared was everything they both hoped for and more, and in it, was a joint promise. A promise for tomorrow, a promise for always.