Conflicted

Dark Days

Chapter 1

Darkness. It was both calming and frightening. Event's could be unfolding right before your eyes and you wouldn't see. Plots, that could shape your world happening in the shadows. But for one boy, the pitch black nights were a sought after release. The cool breeze that caused the tree's to softly sway flowed over his skin. He wasn't cold, he was rarely ever cold. The boy was sitting on the front step of a tiny cottage in a now deserted village in Camberwell, a little outside of London. It was a tiny place, only 2 rooms with one being a very small bathroom; a small bathtub was squeezed into the corner and a toilet and sink beside it. The now residents of the cottage often wondered why someone would build something so small to begin with, and where had they gone? There was no electricity of course, but thankfully the plumbing was still working. The once red clay tiled roof that sheltered it's inhabitants from rain often leaked and let in all of the cold air. The walls were in a constant state of repair and windows often rattled in the wind.

The boy however, didn't care. It was his home, had been in fact for 4 years now and most importantly, he was alive. These days that was a lucky thing, deaths were common, people disappearing suddenly was even more common. He wasn't alone however. He didn't think he would have coped if he was alone. Often woken by strange images and nightmares that plagued his sleep he imagined himself going crazy. He had a partner however. Not in the romantic sense but a partner to keep the nightmares at bay, to talk too and keep each other company. Someone he could depend on and someone he could share his secrets with.

There was one secret he hadn't shared, however. He wanted too, more than anything; but he knew the moment he shared that secret their partnership would be over.

The boy let his head hang low, his arms resting on the inside of his legs and his hands almost touching the chipped wooden step. The small shift of weight causing the wooden step to creek quietly in the night. He looked defeated, at his limit. He had the same internal battle almost every night. Should he come clean? Should he destroy the only precious thing he had left? He couldn't, every night he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He slowly opened the tightly balled fist he was making in his right hand. Holding it up slightly from the ground with his palm up he thought about light, and how much he missed it's reassuring presence and as if by magic a small ball of light appeared in the palm of the boys hand. A soft white light, no bigger than a marble. It churned and rotated slowly in his palm, as if it was a miniature sun. He concentrated more and the ball of light grew larger, now the size of an apple. He cast a quick look over his shoulder, careful not to create too much light and wake his partner who was slumbering in bed. Staring back at the ball of light he thought about this special gift. Magic. It wasn't uncommon. Most of the people in the country could do it, but it wasn't something you advertised however, not unless you had a seal anyway.

All residents were required to have a seal otherwise they were considered outsiders, often deemed not to be needed by Voldemort or his henchmen. The seals were a solid gold pin in the shape of a shield with a snake running along the edge with a V etched at it's centre. There were a lot of rumours surrounding the seals, but the boy didn't have one so he didn't much care. A few people even sold them, being made of pure gold they fetched a fairly good price. It came at it's own cost however and without the seal you were essentially not a citizen in this crazy country.

Voldemort. The man responsible. What the boy wouldn't do to get a shot at him. If it weren't for him, and his rise to power he might not even be in this mess. His partner would still be with the family that now didn't exist. Killed, purely because they resisted the non-magical stigma that came with Voldemort's uprising. Millions were killed, even magical people. A few rose up against Voldemort but any resistance however was crushed. He was the most powerful wizard to have ever existed, or so he claims. No one has been about to prove otherwise.

The boys memories turned to his dreams. He has strange dreams, it was if he was viewing someone else's memories but he couldn't place who. They were blurry, a lot of the time. As if being viewed behind distorted glass. The other times, his sleep was filled with the nightmares. Large scenes of burning buildings and people screaming. Flashes of light coming from this way and that. He remembered a woman, with red hair that could put the huge flames of fire behind her to shame as she spoke to him, he couldn't tell what she said though. It was fragmented, only hearing bits and pieces but none of it making sense. Often times, in times where he was alone or scared he thought about her. He assumed she was his mother, it was the only thing he knew he was right about when it came to his dreams.

He didn't remember his family, or anything actually. It was as if he just appeared in the dark street, alone and scared. He didn't like thinking about those times. Times when he was truly afraid, afraid to die. He'd called out to his parents, struggling to remember their names. His head hurt and he felt sick. He was only 13. It didn't take him long to realise he was truly alone. It would be another year before he met his partner and found the cottage. That year was a tough one. He had a crash course in magic having witnessed men and women in strange cloaks doing horrible things to people in the streets. Hidden in the shadows all he could do was wait for it to be over so he could move on and try and find food and water. He remembered almost freezing every night having desperately knocked on the doors of every house still standing. He never got a reply.

"Harry?" A gentle voice said from the doorway behind him.

Harry jumped at the voice and clamped his hand shut, frozen stiff. It was a good thing he'd lost concentration, the ball of light had only been the size of a pea when she had come out so it was unlikely she would have seen anything. He relaxed slightly when she didn't say anything. He could hear the tell tale signs of her just waking up, but not really being awake. Not enough to function properly anyway. She was always a heavy sleeper where as Harry was a light sleeper.

"Hermione. I thought you were asleep?" He asked her calmly, trying to keep his voice steady. He twisting his body so he could look at her.

The young brunette was rubbing her eyes with her hands. Her hair was in a ponytail but a few strands had escapes and were pointing this way and that. She was wearing shorts and a jumper that was a little too big for her. One of Harry's old ones. It had patches and holes in it, but it was always one of the more warmer jumpers. Hermione dropped her hands from her eyes and looked at him sitting on the step, the sleeves of the jumper falling over to cover her hands.

"I'm cold." Was all she said as she looked at him. Her bare legs had goosebumps on them and she was moving her toes ever so slightly as if trying to hold in shivers. Harry was often used as a portable heater in the rougher weather.

Smiling softly Harry stood up, the wooden step creeking more in protest. If a girl said that while dressed like that to other guys she would probably get a different response. Harry however, valued her above anything and he wouldn't make a stupid mistake; not that he doesn't have to stop himself sometimes. She was fairly innocent in a lot of ways.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll come back." Harry said with a small chuckle, throwing some humour into his voice to keep the few tears that had threatened to fall at bay.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around before gently pushing her back inside the cottage. She didn't resist at all and Harry was glad. It meant she was far to sleepy to have seen anything, no matter how small the risk had been. Closing the drafty wooden door and sliding the large bolt lock on the door into place behind him he stepped into their home.

On the immediate left, the bed, which Hermione was currently climbing back into was a few feet in the air, balanced on 4 wooden beams. The beams had extra wood nailed into, for extra strength as the weight of 2 eighteen year olds. It had started to creak one day, which happened to almost everything in the house but Harry didn't want to take the chance of collapse. Under the bed, which being higher up gave a decent amount of space back to the room was all of their things. A few badly beaten and torn bags and rucksacks lay neatly in rows. All Hermione's doing, Harry wasn't that delicate with his things and where he placed them; much to her dismay and grumblings. This included all of their clothes and belongings. Hermione had more than him, having actually known her family and she had managed to salvage a lot before they fled their house before her parents were killed. Next to the bags were some brown paper bags with food in, not a lot but enough to keep them going for a few days. The back wall was were their sink and a small counter which served as their only kitchen space. To the right of that was their washing. Harry had salvaged some wood from the burned down house a little ways down the road and created a makeshift clothes horse. They had both gotten used to seeing each others underwear, although they tried to avoid those kinds of topics. It was always an embarrassing day when they had to go and salvage clothes from half destroyed shops in London.

Harry took his worn brown boots off and placed them by the door next to Hermione's much smaller pair of Converse. He pulled his socks off and threw them into one of his bags under the bed, followed by his jeans. Leaving his t-shirt on he climbed the small ladder and laid down next to Hermione on his back. He turned his head to look at her, she was already asleep again. Her soft breathing the only sound he could hear; minus the creaking cottage they lived in of course. Harry reached out and moved a few pieces of her hair that were slowly falling to her lips and tucked them behind her ear. Hermione reached out and pulled his arm towards her and she smiled as the familiar warm presence made itself known. The cold didn't really affect Harry all that much, he would be fine even without a blanket. He wasn't completely sure why, but he could at least sum it up to the magic in him doing something.

Finally feeling himself being tired he tucked the blankets around Hermione more as she gripped his warm arm and he settled his head back on the pillow they shared. Her warm breath dangerously close to his ear.

Self control, Harry. He thought to himself before drifting off to sleep.

Hermione awoke suddenly to the sound of a large explosion. "Ow!" She cried as her head hit the ceiling, forgetting where she was for a moment. She tried to determine how far away it was, it didn't sound very close but it was still loud enough to wake her up. Rubbing her head with her hand and the throbbing pain slowly disappeared.

The noise now declared not to be a danger she turned her head to the empty space next to her.

He's gone to work, she thought.

She would often awake to find Harry gone. It had taken awhile to get used to the fact she was alone in this tiny cottage without knowing what was happening out there. Harry often knew, although she still wasn't sure how he knew so much. She did know that he went into London sometimes when she was asleep, and she didn't like that idea. Harry was still very much a mystery to her but he was her only lifeline and friend now and didn't want to bring to many things up incase she drove him away.

Looking down at herself she saw all the blankets tucked around her, it was still giving off some warmth. Hugging it tightly she fell back onto the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. She was still nervous every day about sharing a bed with Harry. It was her that had suggested it, feeling terrible about Harry sleeping on a bed of worn blankets on the floor every night. The first night had been incredibly awkward. Neither of them knew where they should be putting their limbs until Harry started to laugh and say how stupid they were being. He told her he trusted her and she should trust him, and that's what she did. These days, if Harry didn't have work she would wake up finding herself half draped over him. He always seemed to wake up last in these cases but she knew he was faking it so he didn't disturb her.

Slapping both her cheeks lightly she pulled the blankets off of her and climbed down the small ladder that Harry had repaired more times than he would ever admit. Jumping from the ladder on the last step she lightly hit the wood floor. She took a quick peak into Harry's main rucksack and saw his spare set of clothes gone which confirmed to her that he had indeed gone to work.

They were exceptionally fortunate that Harry even had work. He worked for a farmer down at Forest Hill who supplied the Voldemorts castle in Scotland with bread and other things. He had found the farm one day and tried to take some bread but was caught. Instead of being reprimanded however the old farmer offered him a job, saying he employed a few others his age who were out here. Harry of course, took the job. They got a little money that the wizards used, Harry told her it wasn't much though. They did however get some bread and other food which helped a lot.

For the most part, Hermione spent her time reading the few books she had managed to pack before fleeing her house. Harry sometimes came home with one, it would be a little banged up but she'd read them all anyway.

As she got dressed she thought about what she wanted to do today. It was Monday which meant some of the shops in London would be open. There were a few wizard and non-wizard shops still around or that popped up after Voldemort had taken over and let the secrecy of magic fall as he took to power. She had learnt the non-magicals were called muggles, she wasn't happy about the name; it seemed like they used it in a derogative way. She had Harry though, another rock in the pond; or rather a stormy sea.

Staring at her rucksack next to Harry's that she used when she was out and about she contemplated on going alone. Harry always told her to wait for him to get back but he was always dead on his feet after working on the farm and she felt terrible for then having him go with her. He never complained, but that just made her feel worse; nothing bad ever happened and they avoided the wizards when they could.

Plucking up her courage at going against what Harry had said, which usually was for her benefit, she pulled her jacket on and slung the backpack onto her back. Putting her Converse on by the front door she pulled the bolt lock back, briefly wondering how Harry managed to get it closed every time he left. She closed the door behind her as she stepped onto the tiny front deck. No one was around, or really knew anyone was living out here so she didn't bother trying to lock the door; not that she would be able to open it from the outside anyway. Harry only did it when he left because she knew he was worried about her being alone. These thoughts made her feel guilty again at what she was doing but she countered it by thinking about what she was going to get him for his birthday. She had been secretly saving where she could, which wasn't a lot; but enough to get him a small gift if she would find something. It was July 20th so she didn't have much time. Taking a look at her battered watch, which was actually a present from Harry she made her way down the road.

It took her about 20 minutes to get to Walworth Road and from there she carried on for another 20 minutes until she reached the south of London. Unfortunately London wasn't what it used to be, once a busy city was now almost a ghost town. Ruins of the buildings and houses littered the land and people kept together in small groups and traveled quickly. She gripped the straps of her backpack as she made her way down the narrow streets, looking this way and that. It was a little further until she got to where people were selling things. Their wasn't any shops muggle shops anymore, not that she knew of anyway. She did know that there were wizard ones, you had to have a seal however to even get in. You'd be reported if you even tried to walk through the door without one on display.

Hermione made it without incident, and without any appearances of Death Eaters, who patrolled the city and country. There were more people here, walking up and down the long street. Either side was filled with wooden stalls filled with items from food to trinkets. Wizards often tried to fool muggles into buying dangerous items and Hermione had heard some stories where they died.

She looked around the stalls, buying some vegetables and soup. Harry would most likely bring back some more bread so they would be able to have a pretty good dinner this evening. Everything was pretty expensive but the most expensive thing she could think of were clothes. Most places in London had been burnt down, and that meant a lot of clothes and fabric had been destroyed. The country was essentially walled off from the rest of the world too so trading was out of the question. If the outcasts got anything, it was because Voldemort let it happen. She stopped at one of the little clothes stalls anyway, she always did when Harry brought her.

Lifting a green jumper that looked like it would fit her she asked the man tending the staff how much it cost.

"Two sickles. You buyin' it?" The man said rudely, he didn't look like he was in a good mood.

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out her remaining money. She only had a sickle and 3 knuts left.

"Ah.. Actually no, sorry." She replied and put the jumper down. It looked nice, it reminded her of Harry's eyes as embarrassing as that was. Warmth was the quality she actually cared about however. As she turned around the man grabbed her wrist.

"Look girl, I need the sale. I'll let you off and sell it to you for a sickle." He said angrily.

His grip on her wrist was painful as she tried to tug herself free.

"S-Sorry but that would leave me with nothing… I don't have enough, you're hurting me."

She tried to keep her voice steady but she was honestly scared now. This had never happened before, but then she'd never been out alone; she always had Harry with her. The altercation was attracting attention in the semi-crowded street but no one looked like they would step in on her behalf. Everyone looked out for themselves now, which she couldn't blame them for. The mans grip hadn't loosened and her wrist was really starting to hurt as she continued to try and tug herself free.

"L-Look," Hermione started to say over his loud accusations of her wasting his time. "I just asked a question, I've changed my mind. Let. Me. Go!" Angry and in pain she then did something she'd never done before and punched him square in the stomach. She didn't think she had a very strong punch but the man let go and she instantly started rubbing her wrist as she moved away. The man recovered quickly however and looked livid, he walked up to her quickly and slapped her hard across the face causing her to fall onto the ground.

A soft crunching sound could be heard as she landed on her back, crushing her rucksack behind her. Slightly dazed by the hit Hermione tried to stand but found herself frozen in fear. The man's face, now in pure rage, was bearing down on her. People in the street continued to watch but no one intervened. It was at this point that Hermione fully regretted coming alone. She'd be an idiot, their world wasn't as kind and innocent as it was before and she wasn't very strong or fast. Hermione watched, tears now falling down her face as the man raised his fist. She closed her eyes and waited for the impact, but it never came. The sound of the man screaming in pain caused her eyes to snap back open however.

He was on the ground now, withering in pain as his muscles spasmed. Pulling her eyes off the main she looked to her right and saw a tall figure in a black robe white mask. A Death Eater. One of Voldemort's lackys. Hermione tried to slowly edge away from them both but the figures head moved to look at her. The figure looked her up and down, looking for a seal. When he didn't find one however he lowered the wand he was holding at the seller on the floor and pointed it at her.

"What filth do we have here huh? Causing trouble are we muggle?" He said mockingly from behind his mask.

Hermione was internally panicking as she stared at the man's wand. Images started appearing in her mind from when their house was set on fire. Her parents handing her the rucksack and telling her to run.

"Please…" She begged, trying to form a sentence but couldn't. She wanted to explain, this whole thing wasn't her fault.

It didn't matter though, the Death Eater simply laughed and stepped forward. Hermione's usual quick and intelligent brain was still reeling from what happened before and it was grinding to a halt more and more. Her eyes never left the wand the man was holding, his laughter ringing in his ears.

"Cruci-" The man had begun to say but was suddenly cut off when a fist connected to the side of his head and he staggered to the ground, wand flying out of his hand and rolling under one of the stalls.

Hermione looked up, eyes wide.

"So how's that blonde you live with working out for you?"

"She's a brunette Sam, and fine thank's." Harry said to his friend. He wasn't actually sure if he should be calling Sam his friend. They worked together and got on well together. Harry didn't trust him enough yet to give Hermione's name away, or where they lived for that matter. He didn't trust anyone fully.

They were currently lifting bales of wheat from the back of a trailer and into a storage shed. Small chatter was what got them through the work. It wasn't exactly hard, but it was fairly taxing on the body. Sam was a little scrawnier than Harry was, but it wasn't like Harry was huge or well built. Modestly defined he'd class himself as.

"Sure. So you too like, going out or whatever yet?" Sam said as he threw down a large bale into Harry's awaitng arms.

Harry grabbed the two corners that were wrapped around the bale and carried it into the open shed. "We're not dating or anything. We've never really talked about it actually. I think it would be too awkward though."

Sam took a break and sat down on one of the bales in the trailer. "Why? You're basically a married couple you know, living together alone and all that."

Standing up and leaning his back against the trailer Harry stared at the bales they'd already loaded into the shed.

"She's not like any of the girls you talk about Sam. She's, innocent." He said, trying to find the right words. He hated these conversations but Sam was the only person he spoke too apart from Hermione so he didn't exactly want to push him away.

"Oh. So she's never done it before?"

Harry was caught off guard by how Sam had taken it. "Of course not! I meant, you know, she doesn't think about that kind of thing. We're just happy to be around each other, have each others backs, you know?"

"Well I think you're a fool for hiding your feelings for her."

Harry ignored that comment and told him to get on with the bales or Mr. Jones wasn't going to be very happy with them. He was a nice man, but he played by the notion that if you didn't do the work, you wouldn't get the money. Which Harry agreed with, as much as he needed the money and food.

They continued the work, with Sam throwing the bales down and Harry carrying them into the shed. It didn't take to much longer for them to clear that trailer and Sam had to drive it back to collect the next lot from the few other guys on the farm working for Mr. Jones. As Harry had nothing to do until Sam got back with the next load of bales he walked inside the shed and sat down on the floor, resting his tired back and legs.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had felt it ever since the morning but couldn't think of anything that he'd forgotten or could go wrong. Deciding it was just his mind playing tricks on him he tried to catch a few minutes of sleep. Closing his eyes he let his head fall back against a bale of wheat. "You're hiding your feelings." Sam's voice rang out through his mind. If Harry was honest with himself, he did have feelings; they started a year ago. He'd accidently walked in on Hermione taking a bath. He'd never forget how beautiful she had looked. Her long wet hair clingy to her body as the soapy water slid down her arms and legs. The small light making her skin glisten. He had come away with a large lump on his head from where she'd thrown wooden handled loafer at him but it had been the moment that sparked his feelings for her. He imagined he always liked her to an extent, but he'd always buried it deeply as to not ruin what they had already. He wasn't sure if his feelings would be well received. She was hard to read, if he was honest.

Before he could think on it more he was rudely woken by a soft kick on his right leg.

"Oi, wakey wakey. I'm not doing this myself you know." Sam said with a smirk as he turned around and climbed the back of the trailer.

Muttering under his breath Harry resumed his task. About an hour later, Mr. Jones arrived in one of his old tractors. He stopped the engine and climbed the small steps that allowed him to exit it. Walking over with a brief wave to Harry and Sam he checked inside the shed.

"Look's good. Did it in good time too, I'll give you a bit extra for it today." Mr. Jones said which was received well as Harry and Sam high fived.

"Thank you very much Mr. Jones." They both coursed. He waved the thanks down.

"There ain't no such thing as free money, but hard work is always rewarded. Here." He reached into his pockets and gave them both 10 sickles each. "Take tomorrow off too, yah both worked hard last week."

Mr. Jones waved down the flood of thanks again before giving them both a small wave and leaving back to his farm house. "Sam, don't forget to park that thing where you found it!" He yelled out the window.

"How goods that, eh?" Sam said happily as he walked back over to the tractor he'd used to tow the trailer. "You want to hang out or anything tomorrow?" He asked Harry.

Harry thought about it for a second, it was rare that they ever hung out outside work but then he thought of something. "Nah, sorry. I think we'll be doing a little shopping. Stock up on some things."

Sam simply shrugged and hopped up into the tractor seat before driving off with the now empty trailer behind it.

Deciding he better head home he shoved his pocked in his jean pockets and made his way out of the farm and towards the now deserted road he took home. He didn't mind working for Mr. Jones, Hermione wasn't sure about it but so far it had worked out for them. I wonder what Hermione is doing, he thought. The last time he came home early, the bath scene had happened. He quickly stamped down the hope for a second interaction. It wasn't a very far walk from Forest Hill back to their little cottage but it was always a welcome break from everything though, much like how he would sit outside in the dark.

One thing Harry had stumbled on was the ability to sense when anyone was near. It didn't seem to affect a very large area but it was enough that he was always confident he hadn't been followed. They had a couple of neighbours fairly close to their cottage but they all kept to themselves and rarely bothered each other. There had only been one time that Harry knew of where a fairly young couple had asked if they had any spare clothes. It had been a very cold winter, so he couldn't blame them for reaching out. Not everyone had the same chances Harry had been given.

It didn't take much longer to reach the cottage and then the front door. Harry reached out and grabbed the door handle. As soon as he gripped the handle he felt his stomach drop. Something was wrong. Opening the door quickly he rushed inside, checking the place bed, empty. Kitchen space, empty. Bathroom, empty. His last look around was at the bags under the bed and he instantly noticed Hermione's traveling one was missing. Before his mind had even fully processed what that meant he was running out of the door, not even bothering to check if he'd locked it.

He ran as hard as he could into London. The days exhaustion batted aside with his panic for finding Hermione. Idiot, idiot! He said to himself over and over again. Half of it was at her and half was it him. He knew she was impatient, and that she thought she could handle things herself, it was only a matter of time before she thought about venturing off on her own. He knew differently. He saw what happened in the streets and the abuse people faced at the hand of Voldemort's henchmen. He tried to keep it all from her as best he could. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

Reaching the entrance to their usual shopping route he stopped for a few seconds, his hands resting on his knees as he sucked in lungfuls of air as he thought out a search plan. She could be anywhere. What if something happened to her? That thought turned into many others, each one more horrible than the last. He wouldn't know what he'd do if something happened to her. Clenching his fists he stood up straight and continued to run in the direction of their usual route. Thankfully he'd spotted a small crowd where everyone looked timid and scared. He searched through the people as he passed and eventually stopped dead as he looked at a girl laying on the ground with fear on her face and tears in her eyes. He saw the wand next and the words forming on the man's lips. He didn't know what spell it could be but he knew it would be bad. Without thinking he willed himself to move and he a split second later he was next to the hooded man and hit him as hard as he could in the side of the head.

He went down onto the ground, dazed and confused at what happened but Harry didn't give him anytime to recover. "Move. Quickly!" He said to Hermione as he pulled her to her feet. Grabbing her hand he ran down the street and took a right, looking over his shoulder every few feet to make sure he wasn't following. He couldn't rely on his other sense, he was too wired. He could barely think straight as it was let alone concentrate enough to use magic.

Further and further they ran, Hermione crying behind him. He thought he could hear her apologising as well but his ears were set to listen out for other noises. He had to prioritise her safety, apologising could wait.

As he rounded a corner Harry hit something solid and bounced back slightly. Instinctively moving to block Hermione he slowly began to move backwards.

"You're in for a world of pain, boy." The Death Eater from before, or another one, he couldn't tell said.

"Look this wasn't her fault, you harassed her for no reason." Harry didn't exactly know what happened but he knew Hermione would never do anything to attract that kind of attention. She couldn't be a troublemaker even if she tried, Harry usually held that title.

Harry could hear Hermione softly crying behind him, her grip on his hand tighter than ever.

"Like I care what she even did anymore boy, you assaulted me. You know who I am right?" He said menacingly. He pulled down the sleeve of his robe and showed them the mark all Death Eaters had, a skull with a snake coming from the mouth. It looked almost alive on the arm of the man threatening them.

"Now…" The Death Eather started to say as he played with his wand. "I have to kill you, of course. But I think I'll keep the girl." They were cornered now, the alley Harry had taken was a long one and they would be hit before then even tried running through the other side. Harry felt sick with how the man was talking about her. Hermione head was softly shaking against his back as she struggled to keep herself together.

Harry didn't say anything, he was trying to process all the possibilities he could in his head. They could run but they would be caught. He could still do it and try and take the hits while Hermione tried to escape, but then he knew she would never agree to that. That left him with only one choice, and it wasn't like the physical means he'd taken earlier. Magic. He didn't have a choice, but he also didn't know any spells. He'd practiced a bit at night and apart from creating light he could move objects around, he'd never tried anything the size of a person though.

Get it together Harry. Protect her, stuff keeping it a secret any longer. Those were the thoughts now running through his head.

The Death Eater, who seemed to have had enough and grown impatient at the lack of responses raised his wand at Harry.

"Sorry Hermione." Harry said softly, which made her look up at the back of his head. Harry thrust his hand out in front of him and pushed as hard as he could with that feeling of magic he always felt when he practised. A faint golden barrier appeared before him, he pushed again as the green spell splashed harmlessly against it and the make shift shield flew forwards towards the man. It hit the Death Eater with such force that he flew a hundred feet and landed with a horrible sounding crunch.

Not wanting to stick around, and feeling like he'd just ran a marathon he turned around and pulled Hermione to follow him. He jolted back however as he saw Hermione was refusing to move.

"Hermione? Come on, we've got to go." He said impatiently. She was staring at the crumbled figure, tears no longer falling but her eyes were glistening in the light.

"I… I can explain later, but we need to get home. Now Hermione!" He spoke the last words forcefully, not to be mean but to try and jolt her into action. It looked like it did the trick however when she turned and allowed him to pull her along. As they were running down the streets again Harry looked over his shoulder a few times and tried to see her face but she kept her head low and looking at the ground. All the guilt he'd been forcing down rose in himself quickly and in full force. Idiot, he thought.

Eventually and what seemed like hours for Harry, they reached Camberwell Road and then their cottage just outside of the main town. He pulled open the door and scanned inside before gently pushing Hermione in. She didn't move, just stood in the middle of the room looking at the floor.

Harry removed her rucksack and placed it next to his in her usual spot before taking her jacket off and placing it down on top. Not really knowing what to do now he awkwardly stood behind her. Plucking up his courage he reached for her hand but she shrugged him off.

"Hermione…"

"I… I don't understand." Hermione said, interrupting him. She was still looking down at the ground and her hands were clenched into tight fists.

"I'm Sorr-" Harry began to say but was cut off again.

Hermione turned around and looked at him, her eyes watery and a single tear now fell down her face. "How long?" Was all she asked.

"A few years… But, I wanted to tell you; I really did!" He said quickly, hoping he could salvage it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked. He was both amazed at how even her voice was but knew she was very angry. "I thought we didn't keep secrets? I thought we trusted each other!" She finally yelled, shattering Harry's hope that she was going to be calm.

"I do trust you! But… With everything that's happened, with your parents… Look what magic did, you hate magic!"

"I hate the people that use it like Voldemort! What else haven't you told me?!" Hermione reached out and hit him in the chest, it wasn't very hard but Harry suspected she couldn't quiet control her arms at the moment.

"Just that. I swear… I only hid it from you because I was scared. Scared you'd leave me, when you found out what I am." Harry said quietly, and for the first time not able to meet her eyes.

He cast his gaze down to his shoes as he spoke. "I really am sorry. I did plan on telling you soon… I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to ruin what we have." He said.

"And what do we have, Harry?" Hermione said. He could feel there was another meaning to that question but his brain wasn't working properly. Now he came to think about it he felt extremely drained and the strength in his legs was slowly failing.

He locked up, determined to convey to her that he meant what he was saying.

"We… I L-" Harry didn't get to finish his sentence however as the nauseating feeling that was clouding his mind finally hit him and he collapsed on the wooden floor.

A/N: Hello, this is the first story I've written. I might have missed some mistakes but I'm putting this up in draft form anyway. If you liked the first chapter and think it will be an interesting story please let me know and I'll continue it. I'm 50/50 at the moment on if it being received well.