Hey guys!

Okay, so this is my first Harry/Hermione fanfic, and it's a little different for me, so I hope you like it. It's only short so please review and tell me what you think!

I know I have used Ron's quote from the film in this fic, purely because I thought it would suit the fanfic better and just help the flow of the story. This fanfic is still based on the books, however.

I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters!

Harry James Potter slid into a seat at the table, the imperial power of the Horcrux locket weighing heavily upon his chest. He could feel it's cold metal heart beating alongside his. He stared blankly at the khaki canvas of the tent which was fluttering lazily against the howling wind which was blocked off by their tent's thin yet effective fortress. It felt so lonely without Ron, who's last words rang through his mind like a clock-tower bell.

"No you don't know how it feels, your parents are dead, you have no family!"

A deep depression had swept over the tent since Ron's disappearance, that hung in the air both Harry and Hermione breathed like the fumes of a freshly brewed cauldron of the Draught of Living Death. Hermione hardly ever spoke to Harry since Ron's abandonment of their quest to discover Voldemort's Horcruxes. Sometimes the silence between them lasted for hours upon end. Without Ron, they found no interest in firing up topical conversations or plans to discover the Horcruxes between the two of them. What with their routine of switching turns of wearing the Horcrux, neither of them could manage to muster up the effort of beginning a conversation with one another. Hermione spent most of the day curled up in various areas within in the tent, whether it be an armchair or her bed. Now she sat, a few yards away from Harry, her brown bushy untamed hair tied in a ragged pony-tail, a blanket draped over her legs, which were shaking violently from the bitter cold, despite the extra layer. Her eyes were red-raw, puffy and had an extremely tender and swollen appearance from the nights she had spent silently crying herself to sleep.

The weather had been appalling over the past few days and he was currently wearing his entire set of clothes Hermione had packed for him when they had originally set out on this journey, his ankles beginning to chafe at the binding pressure of the elastic bands within the rim of the numerous socks he wore on each foot. Snow battered the tent, the freezing wind making the effect of everything so much worse. Neither Harry nor Hermione could even step outside of the tent to find food, but what was the point? They knew they would end up being unsuccessful in weather like this. Any kind of animal would surely be safely stored in their hibernation quarters for the winter by now and the only edible plants that could be found within the dwellings of their chosen forest had been buried beneath the thick layer of snow that fell upon the ground like a blanket, crisp and blindingly white. The days had been darkening more recently and Harry thought of Ron's deluminator, so bright and warm that it would surely lighten the mood in the tent, just as Ron's presence would also. Harry knew this. If only Ron was still here, they could have carried on with their quest, but no. Harry and Hermione now seemed to be stuck, moving from place to place, location to location but never in search of a Horcrux. They appeared to be wandering around Britain blindly, blundering after nothing but an empty promise.

Harry had also dwelled upon the fringes of insomnia, his mind lingering upon the whereabouts of his supposedly ex-best friend, wondering where on earth he would be at this moment in time. He imagined, as he sat in his armchair, several layers of jumper fitted snugly over his torso, an imagine of Ron snuggled up in bed, Mrs Weasley, doting as she was, arriving by his bedside with a warm stack of pancakes upon a tray. A White-hot fire of rage burned up inside of Harry at this mental image, his hands balling into fists at the very thought. He was grateful Hermione had remained loyal to him, even if they rarely talked. But he knew she did not really want to be here, in this freezing igloo-like tent without Ron. Harry knew she found this quest completely pointless, as did Ron, and Harry was beginning to feel the same began pondering the whereabouts of Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes but before he could really begin to reach the root of the problem (which was trying to decipher which places in the wizarding world the Horcruxes could be found), his thoughts were cut off by the sound of someone sobbing softly. It was Hermione. Of course, it had to be. Harry slowly rose from his seat, deciding it was prudent to try and comfort her. She was one of his best friends after all. His only best friend, it seemed, now that Ron had fled from their quest. "Hermione?" Harry called tentatively as he crossed the tent's miniature living room. He heard Hermione sniffle softly from under her blanket. "Are you alright?" Harry continued. Hermione pulled back the blanket, so that a pair of watery chocolate-brown eyes stared back at him.

"F-fine." She lied thickly, her voice muffled by the blanket.

Harry sighed. "Don't lie, Hermione." He replied dully. "I know you aren't fine at all."Hermione pulled back the cover even more, revealing her blotchy, red face.

"You're right Harry, I'm really not. Do you want to know why?" She snapped narrowed his eyes impatiently.

"I was only asking Hermione." He retorted. "We haven't spoken to each other in days and all you've done is cry. Well guess what? I'm not feeling too happy about the mess we're in either. But at least I'm trying to carry on with this bloody quest we started out on! Maybe if you didn't want to keep trying, you should have just left with Ron." Hermione's eyes filled with tears, her bottom lip trembling at Harry's hurtful became instantly guilty, regretting immediately what he had said, knowing all she seemed was true comfort, a warm hand upon her shoulder to console her and tell her everything would be alright, that Ron would return and they would resume their quest, together, as they always had been. "Hermione...I'm sorry." He whispered meaningfully.

Hermione shook her head, pursing her lips to stop herself from bursting into tears. "No Harry!" She cried, drawing in shallow breaths between words. "You have no idea how much it hurt me when he left..."

"Of course I do! He was my best friend!" Harry replied.

"Well...maybe...maybe he was more to me..." Hermione whispered, tears spilling down her rosy let out a deep inward sigh. He didn't know quite how to reply to this comment.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He repeated. "I would never have said that if..."

"You weren't wearing the locket...I know." Hermione finished for him, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper.

Harry nodded sadly, looking down at his chest, where, underneath his many layers of clothing, the locket lay. Hard, burning, unyielding hatred burned inside his chest for the cursed thing.

"Take it off." Hermione whispered, her bloodshot eyes wide with fear. Harry looked at her for a long moment. "Take it off, please. We could both use a break from that thing."

Harry did as he was advised, slipping the golden chain from around his neck. He dropped the locket into the palm of his hand, where it lay, uncomfortably dropped the chain into Hermione's extended palm. Her fingers closed around the painfully cold metal before placing it to one side. Slowly, she rose from her seat so that she and Harry were merely inches apart. Was it a spur of the moment? Was it the fact that she was missing Ron? Or was it just that Harry was right there...her friend...someone to comfort her. She did not know. All she did know, was that in mere seconds, her lips were on Harry's, pressed together in an electrifying bond.

Harry wasn't sure how to react. A part of him wanted to push Hermione away, telling her it wasn't right...that they were friends and that's how it should be...But another part of him wanted to pull her closer, wind his hand around her waist and kiss her passionately. Hermione's hand slid across his woollen chest, hooking her hand around his neck. Harry responded by bringing her closer, his arm wound around her waist like a snake. He felt Hermione whimper softly at his touch and loosened his grip, still wondering if this was the right thing to do...Hermione deepened the kiss, her brain, for once, not seeming to be in control of what she was doing. It was automatic, as if someone was forcing her lips upon hands grappled at the back of his neck, her fingers sliding through his jet-black hair, ruffling the already untidy mess upon his head. Her heart raced at the feeling of his hands upon her hips, his palms pressed against her skin, so strong yet so cold, like ice.

She pulled herself in closer to his body, heat and warmth radiating from him that attracted her like a moth to a flame. Hermione had never anticipated anything like this to ever happen in a million years? The feeling of his lips, every curve in his bottom lip slotting in so perfectly against her own, as if they were meant to be. It felt so right, yet the part of her mind that had been causing her to sob over Ron's departure for the past week nagged her that it was wrong, telling her to break away immediately, push him away from her. But as hard as she tried, she could not.

But suddenly her mind kicked into control once again and she realised what she was doing. Harry was her friend...that was all he ever would be. Her mind drifted to Ron. Ron. He was the one she loved, longed to kiss, missed so much it had sliced her apart. But he had left...she may never see him again, another part of her brain thought. But she still loved him with every piece of her heart. She grabbed Harry's hand around her waist and pulled it away slowly, breaking the kiss as she did so. Harry looked back at her in confusion, his brow creased in breathless bafflement. "I'm sorry, Harry...I...I just needed comfort and...you were there." Hermione smiled a soft, weak smile, knowing how awful that must sound to him, but not knowing what else to responded with a nod.

"It's okay, I understand." He muttered. He knew Ron had won her heart. His thoughts flickered to Ginny and a painful feeling of guilt twisted the nerves in his stomach. He grabbed the locket from the arm of Hermione's chair, but Hermione's fingers closed round his hand before he could do anything else.

"Let me wear it now, you've worn it long enough."

Harry nodded, opening his palm, in which the golden locket lay, cold and uncomfortable, it's metal heart ticking against his palm. Hermione hung the chain around her neck, where it lay upon her chest. She gave Harry a smile before turning and walking into the kitchen. Harry collapsed into the armchair, the feeling of Hermione's kiss still upon his lips.