This is my first go at fanfiction. What We Won captures a brief moment in the friendship of the trio after the final battle. Enjoy!
"It's been two days, your mother is going to throw a fit if he doesn't come around this morning."
"Let a bloke sleep Hermione…Hagrid says he was hit by the killing curse in the forest."
"Which is precisely why Madame Pumphrey needs to see him as soon as possible-"
"Or why he needs rest. And when he does get up he'll want food before anyone starts poking and prodding at him! He hasn't eaten in close to 72 hours and the junk we stomached while camping couldn't have given him much substance as it is."
"Please don't start that again- oh Harry!"
Harry Potter stirred to the sounds of bickering. Deciding to let Ron and Hermione have it out on their own, he turned to bury his face in his sleeping bag, but it was not the lumpy foam smelling faintly of mothballs that his head sunk into. This pillow was feather soft and white, marred only by small dimple of drool Harry always associated with a good night's sleep.
"Where am I?" he asked blearily.
"Hogwarts," he heard Hermione answer. Processing this, Harry reached out for the nightstand to locate his glasses but groped only air.
"Over there mate." Ron gestured to the opposite side of the bed from where Harry was currently reaching.
"Er, it's been a while huh?" Ron uncomfortably chuckled. But Harry agreed, it had been a long time since he'd spent a night in Gryffindor tower. As the events of the last few days came flooding back to him, flashes of the battle splattering across his mind's eye, Harry was not sure whether to be dismayed he no longer knew the bearings of his first real home.
Hermione's voice disrupted his musings, "We've been so worried Harry, Mrs. Weasley especially. She's been up here for hours on end, Mr. Weasley had to practically drag her away last night to get some rest of her own."
Harry knew Hermione's words were meant to comfort him but he could not control the creeping feeling of guilt at keeping Mrs. Weasley away from her family, particularly in the wake of her son's death. She should be with George and her other children, not him.
Seeming to sense his distress Ron added, "Don't worry about us, looking after you has kept her mind off…well, other things." This proclamation did not brighten Harry's mood.
A silence hung in the air around the three as Ron turned away from the others and Harry saw him hastily swipe at his cheeks. Hermione's hand snuck towards Ron's and their pinky fingers curled around each other. Despite the circumstances Harry felt his lips tug upwards at his friend's display of intimacy. Feeling his gaze, Hermione turned and locked eyes with him. She suddenly grasped Harry's hand with her free arm and pulled him close until all of their foreheads were touching.
Harry could not contain the overwhelming emotions that racked his body nor the tears threatening to spill. This moment was what he had wanted his entire life. This was the reason he fought, the reason Fred, Tonks, Lupin and so many has lost their lives, so that three children could love unconditionally without the burden of fear and hate. This was the reason they had triumphed.
Harry let his tears fall.