Author's Note: So this wasn't planned...but it came out alright. I haven't written a Harry/Hermione in a long time and I hope I did this one justice. This is set sometime after Ron leaves them in DH. I didn't really have the book on hand and I haven't read it again since it first came out so some of these things might be off. I also did add my own ideas into it...like the Death Eaters attacking them...Anyhow, hope you all like it. This is also slightly based off of a quote from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine and I make no profit of any of this. I think that covers it.

If All Else Perished

Every day he came closer to death. Every day thoughts of his demise plagued her. Every day she saw him in her mind's eye, laid out in a pool of his own life force with Voldemort standing over him in victory.

Hermione Granger looked over her shoulder and her eyes fell on the silent form of her best friend. He was alive for the time being, but already he had come so close to death. They had barely escaped the last attack, and Hermione didn't know how much longer they could hold out. She stood and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. The night was quiet, but she didn't know how much longer that would last. A week had passed since they had last seen Death Eaters and they were bound to find them again soon. Harry hadn't properly recovered yet, but that wouldn't matter to them. Hermione was surprised they hadn't found them already.

She walked to his side and sunk to the floor next to him, reaching for his hand. His hand was strong, his fingers long and thin and his nails clean. The back of his hand still had the scar left over from their fifth year. She traced it with her fingers and wished there was some way to rid him of every scar his body bore.

Harry mumbled something in his sleep and turned his face towards her. His messy hair had been pushed back from his forehead and Hermione had a better view than she had ever had of his scar. It was inflamed red, making Hermione wonder if it had been hurting him again. She reached with a tentative hand to touch his forehead and like she had touched the scar on his hand, she traced the lightning bolt shape. Harry nuzzled his forehead into her palm. Hermione smiled gently and began to stroke his hair. She had never touched Harry in this way before.

The hoot of an owl startled her and Hermione pulled her hand back from Harry. He turned on his side and gave a small groan. Hermione's eyes lingered on him for a moment before she walked to their tent's door and peaked out into the night. Owls were not supposed to find them. She had made sure of that, but one had and it could not mean good news. Hermione pulled out her wand and walked out into the woods. The stars and the moon were bright enough for her to look around her without the aid of a lumos. The owl sat on the lowest branch of the closest tree and watched her with a cocked head. She raised her arm and it flew to her, landing on her forearm.

Hedwig. Hermione grinned. She should have known nothing would stop Hedwig from reaching them.

"How are you, girl? I thought Harry told you to stay at Hogwarts. No matter. As long as you weren't followed."

The bird seemed to huff at the very idea that she could have brought danger with her. She gave Hermione an annoyed glance and then looked away. Hermione laughed and then took a last look around them before entering the tent again with the snowy owl perched on her shoulder, noticing the small parcel she had overlooked attached to the owl's leg.

"Who sent you, I wonder," Hermione muttered.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. He was sitting up in the makeshift bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"You should be resting," Hermione said. "I leave for one second and..."

"I've been resting since we got here though," Harry said and picked up his glasses, wiping them first before putting them on. "And what is Hedwig doing here? Come here, girl."

The owl flew to her master and Harry spent a few minutes examining her and stoking her back.

"She brought something," Hermione said. "Are you hungry? I was considering preparing something but I didn't want to wake you."

Harry untied the parcel from her leg. "I could get us something to eat," he said. "I'm not such an invalid that I can't cook one meal, Hermione. Plus, you look tired. I've got somewhere about five to six hours of sleep under my belt and I don't think you've had more than one or two hours in the past few days."

Hermione ignored him and began going through their food supplies. She was so focused on her task, she didn't hear Harry get up or move to her side. "Rest," he insisted. "I am not hurt. You healed me well enough and I've gotten enough sleep in the past few days. You on the other hand..." he trailed off.

"But I..."

"No, Hermione. Please....please just let me take care of this one thing. I feel like in the past week I've done nothing. You can see what Hedwig brought in the meanwhile."

Hermione watched him as she took the parcel from Hedwig. His hands moved quickly as he began to prepare their meal from the few remaining things Kreacher had packed for them. Hermione pulled her eyes away from him once she was sure he was not going to pass out or something, turning back to the parcel. She opened it quickly and found within a few letters addressed to both of them.

"Letters," Hermione said and opened one of the few addressed to her. It was from Professor McGonagall.

She scanned over it quickly, not really reading. "They want us to go back."

"We have a task to complete. We have to get the Horcruxes," Harry said without looking up from the sandwiches he was preparing.

"I know," Hermione said and stared at the letter a little longer. "I just....Harry, we barely have food anymore and they seem to know exactly where we are and....Well, I...I think we need some time to rethink this. Maybe tell someone what we're doing. I don't know. I'm afraid that next time they catch up to us, one of us is going to get hurt and then where will we be?"

Harry lifted his face this time and gave her a hard stare. "If you were so afraid of getting hurt you should have gone with Ron, then," he said. "You had your chance. In fact, leave now, if you want to. I don't care."

Harry stood up and left the food on the small table he had been using. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered something as he began to pace. Hermione dropped the letters on the ground and walked toward him.

"Harry, I'm not afraid of getting hurt. I would die for you, if it meant that you could live just one more day. I don't want to leave you. Please understand."

He turned to look at her. "Then, what?"

Hermione walked forward and grasped his face between her hands. "I don't want to lose you, Harry. I fear it would destroy me and this...this quest...I think it will lead to your death." She let go of his face and wrapped her arms around herself. "You ask me why I haven't been sleeping lately. It's because every time I close my eyes I see your limp body covered in blood at his feet."

Her eyes were full of tears threatening to roll down her cheeks, but she tried to keep them in check. It wouldn't do for Harry to see her in so much distress. She turned away from him.

For a long moment they stood this way. Hermione facing one of the tent walls, away from Harry; Harry staring at her back.

"We can go back," Harry said suddenly. "If you want to, we can go back."

Hermione wiped at her eyes angrily and then turned back to Harry and didn't know what to say, so she threw her arms around him and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and held her against him.

"I don't know what I would do," Hermione said at last, pulling back to look at him. "This war, Vol -- You-Know-Who -- none of it would matter if I lost you."

It had been a long time coming and when the feelings finally made sense in her mind, Hermione did not see how she hadn't known sooner. And the moment she knew, she pulled back from Harry. What would happen now?

"Hermione?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

She braced herself for the words she knew she had to say. This could be her only chance.

"I love you," she said.

Harry laughed. "I know," he said. "I love you too. It's what this is all about isn't it?"

"No, Harry," she said. "I'm in love with you."

He paused and opened his mouth, but closed it again.

Hermione continued. "It's the reason I'm so afraid. Why didn't I see it before? I love you. Oh, Harry, I love you. I think I might have loved you for years but I didn't know. Say something? Harry?"

Harry didn't respond.

"I guess you don't feel the same way," Hermione said in a small voice. "I -- it's alright. There's Ginny and..."

Harry cut her off, finally finding his voice, "Do you know," Harry said, "that day...during Dumbledore's funeral, I saw something. Ron was looking at you and he had this glint in his eyes. You were crying and he reached over and he took your hand and you dropped you head on his shoulder and he looked so triumphant. He looked like someone that had just won the best prize in the world. The entire time all I could think about was how terrible it was that he was almost smiling at a funeral and I was so..." he trailed off and ran a hand through his already too messy hair, making it stand up even more if possible.

"I kept looking at the two of you and I wanted to rip you out of his arms," Harry said, continuing, "Do you remember that time you asked me how it felt like to watch Ginny with Dean? This was like that, but it was so much more. It felt like my very being was being ripped apart. I tried to keep my eyes away from the two of you, to look at Ginny and focus on her grief, but I wanted so desperately to be in his place and then before I knew it words were leaving my mouth and I was breaking up with her. I think she knew."

Harry paused and offered her a smile. he reached over and took her hand. "I watched you both closely, after that," he admitted. "You and Ron. The way the two of you looked at each other at the wedding, and after we left. He even talked about you to me but he never alluded to there being anything between you. It gave me hope, but I could never go after you when he clearly liked you. Then, we were running from the ministry. We had the locket and one day after you had gone to set up wards, we had a fight."

Hermione interrupted then. "Was this why he left?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "He said terrible things about you. About you and me. I think the locket plagued on his fears of you not loving him, and I assured him that you probably did love him. He didn't want to believe me and then he asked me if I had ever thought of you like that. I couldn't deny it. So I said yes and he exploded --"

"And then he left," Hermione finished for him.

"I thought, when you came back, that you would leave with him," Harry said. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "When you stayed I was so delighted, but I could do nothing about my feelings when you cried for days over his leaving."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't cry because I loved him and he left," she said. "I cried because he abandoned you. Oh, Harry. I never saw him as more than a friend. You always talked about Ginny. I always thought."

Harry pulled her back into his arms. "We both thought wrong," he said and stroked the back of her head. "I think," he added, "I would have gone back had you left me. I wouldn't have been able to handle it alone."

Hermione leaned against him. "I'll never leave you," she said. "I would die without you. Is it selfish of me to say that I could care less about the outcome of this war as long as you were alive at the end? Would it be selfish of me to not want you to face him even if it means his taking over?"

"Not when I want to lock you up in a tower and let you out only when this is over," Harry said. He tilted her head towards him. "I love you," he whispered as his lips touched hers.

Hermione sighed against him.

"Don't die," she whispered when they pulled apart. "I'm afraid it would destroy me."

"I'll try not to," Harry whispered back. "But you can't die either."

For the first time in the past few weeks Hermione did not think about Harry's destroyed body at the feet of their enemies, instead in her mind another image was formed. It was of her and Harry and they stood close together, their hands clasped. The war was over and they were both alive, together, and in love.

Finis