Title: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Rating: K+
Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Friendship
Pairing: Romione; Harmony friendship
Description: "Do you ever wonder if he thinks about us?" He recognizes the raw emotion in her voice. She's struggling to keep the tears from falling. "He's quite an idiot." – A moment of realization between best friends that their 'trio' may now just be a duo. Romione!
Author's Note: Wow, haven't written anything since "Crave You" all the way back in November… This idea came to me literally an hour ago and I had to put it into words. It's not very long, but I'm still happy I got something down in the first place. I recommend listening to Dream a Little Dream of Me while reading; there are several versions of the song, but my favorite cover is of Mama Cass Eliot. But feel free to choose your own artist! Please enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and we all know it.
Harry sits at the small table inside their tent, staring at the ever-frustrating locket. It screeches and hisses at him, as if gloating the fact that it hasn't yet been destroyed. His round glasses slip down the bridge of his nose; he raises his index finger to push them back into place, but they only slide again. He groans as he clutches the Horcrux with one hand and uses the other to rake through his messy, black hair.
The radio plays softly in the background, only because neither of them can stand the silence anymore. It is tuned to a muggle station at the moment; the only person who cares to listen to the war updates is no longer present, and the remaining two would rather not risk hearing his name (or anyone else's, for that matter).
A light melody begins to fill the air and the singer soon chimes in, singing, "Stars shining bright above you; night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'…" Harry recalls the song from his time at Privet Drive, but was never able to understand the words. Living in a cupboard under the stairs muffled most of the sounds made by the Dursleys', which he didn't mind at the time.
"I like this song," comes from across the room in a quiet voice. "Mum and I would listen to it in the car when I was young." It is the first time she has spoken all day, which finally gives Harry some relief. She doesn't move as she says this, but continues to face the wall on her bunk – her back facing her best friend.
"Yeah?" is all he can manage to come up with. Then he adds, "It's nice," which isn't any better.
Hermione mumbles incoherently, a habit she has adopted recently. Her decline of interest in anything but the Horcrux hunt worries Harry, but he's grateful to have her by his side – as she has been, for seven years.
The sound of the music continues as the young witch and wizard fall silent. "Say nighty-night and kiss me; just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone, blue as can be, dream a little dream of me."
What Hermione says next surprises him: "Do you ever wonder if he thinks about us?" He recognizes the raw emotion in her voice. She's struggling to keep the tears from falling.
The Boy Who Lived doesn't have to know who 'he' is to understand her question. She won't say his name (much like no one will say You-Know-Who's) if she's awake. The night 'he' left, Harry heard the faintest "Ron" come from her lips as she tossed in her sleep, but that was the only instance it occurred.
Frankly, 'he' has taken up quite a few of Harry's own thoughts the past week – after 'he' stormed out of the tent in a rage.
"I don't see why he wouldn't."
"He's quite an idiot."
This makes Harry genuinely laugh, but it quickly dies in his throat when he hears her sniff considerably loud. He places a hand on her maroon, sweater-clad shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. "He's going to be fine. You're going to be fine." He pauses. "Why don't we look at The Tales of Beedle the Bard again so maybe we can have some good news for when he returns?"
Hermione cranes her neck over her shoulder and he's faced with the disapproving scowl that is signature to his best friend. He understands why she hesitates, because she's not completely convinced that he will return as Harry has proposed. She rises to her feet, nevertheless, and follows him to the make-shift kitchen.
And as she grasps the locket and places it around her neck, she closes her eyes and hums as the chorus plays one last time.
"Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me."
A/N: Short and sweet! Thanks for making it to the end :) Please take some time to review, because this is my first piece since November and I would love a warm 'welcome back' *wink* Hopefully I won't be gone this long again!
Thanks everyone!
XxLadyStrengthxX
