A/N:

Dedicated to the beautiful, I_was_BOTWP. You are deserving of so much love. Your positive attitude shines so bright, and your constant willingness to give back to others is inspiring. I'm beyond grateful of your gift for words, and you always know what to say at the right time. Thank you for being such a bright light of this fandom, and more personally, my friend.

My endless love and thanks to my beta/alpha, Rosella Burgundy. She is the Hermione to my Luna!

Under the Stars by RooOJoy

". . . Once in a while, you can get shown the light in the strangest of places, if you look at it right." Jerry Garcia - The Grateful Dead

She met him here every week like clockwork. It started after the war, and it became a special, shared moment for the pair even if sometimes they only sat together for a few moments. He remembered sitting in this spot the very first time. It was a fortnight since the Final Battle of Hogwarts. The bodies had been laid to rest, but only to let the heavy burden of 'moving on' settle morosely over the ones that had lived.

He hadn't been sleeping well, the dreams too much to bear, so he left the shelter of the Burrow and headed up the hill. This is where she found him, shielded from view behind a large boulder, staring up into the night sky. She didn't say a word, only spreading her blanket on the grass next to him and reclined against his side. He had briefly wondered how she knew where he had gone or even that he was out of his bed, but in the moment he really didn't care. His brain ached from the constant stream of nightmares both when sleeping and awake. His eyes itched from tiredness, and his body felt empty like happiness had been drained from his heart to remain only hollow and cold.

In the deepest of his sorrow, though, here she was. She grabbed his hand and locked her fingers firmly with his own. He looked down to her as she nuzzled her head against his arm and looked out into the night sky. He remembered the way the moonlight shone off her skin, making it seem paler than it really was, the light splattering of her freckles disappearing altogether from her face. She had cut her hair short days before, and he noticed that it looked nice on her. The way her neck, lean and long, rested back as she viewed the stars overhead was something he had never noticed before.

Unconsciously, he rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, and before long, her weight became heavy against his side and he knew she had fallen asleep. When they were on the run together, not even a year before, she would stay up on his watch duty - to keep him company was the excuse that she always gave him. She would read while he tittered away at nothing until the night became too dark and she would succumb to rest at his side. At the time, he didn't think much of it, too caught up in his own worries of completing the task that was given to him. Now, though, he realized that her presence calmed him. Her slow and even breaths made him tired enough to close his lids and thankfully, with her next to him, he fell asleep for a blessed thirty minutes without nightmares, before the rising sun woke them both.

What he didn't know was how much that first time made a difference for his psyche. He would go about the next few days feeling like he could make it through. The nights weren't as long, and he was able to sleep for longer periods. His energy was better as his appetite came back, and he was able to be around other people for longer periods of time. He felt like he would be okay, and the part that felt empty didn't throb in pain quite so much. Then by day four, the nightmares would return, and he no longer wanted to sit at meals. The lack of sleep made for day time musings to become clouded with a negative force pulling him down. His anxiety got worse, and once again, he'd find himself looking for a way out, a way to just be alone - away from everyone, everything, and every feeling.

Somehow, he ended up, a week after their first unplanned meeting, in the same spot. She was already sitting there, waiting for him, her blanket spread neatly on the ground and a jar of bluebell flames next to her. The summer sky was darker this evening, clouds rolling past the expanse, blocking the stars and moon from view.

She looked up to him from her place on the ground and smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes, however, they were still genuine and happy. She patted the blanket on the space next to her and said, "Sit, Harry. I've been waiting for you."

He did as he was told, and they spent their second time under the stars together. It went on like this for months, each of these moments adding together and creating something that words could not express. As their visits became more consistent, he found that his mood was much improved. He was able to last many more days feeling better - feeling more whole . At first, he may not have noticed that she was slowly healing the broken bits inside his soul. She may have not known at the time what her companionship was doing, but the thing Harry understood, now more than ever, was that Hermione Granger was someone he couldn't live without.

Tonight, he sat on the ground, legs folded underneath him as he rested against the cold, hard stone behind him. It was February, and there was always a niggling doubt that she wouldn't show up in weather such as this. The snow was heavy around him, and he was thankful for the protection of the boulder from the blistering, cold wind. A moment later he heard the crunch of footsteps, and she appeared around the rock, a blanket in one hand and a jar of bluebell flames in the other.

She smiled at him, and his heart cascaded into a thundering chorus. The joy of seeing her here with him, and the way it made his whole body feel aflame was something he was just now beginning to understand. He attempted to school his features as she sat next to him, placing the warming jar of flames in front of their crossed legs.

"I thought you might not come. It's such a cold night."

She scoffed, looking him dead in the face, one brow raised high into her hairline, practically daring him to think she would do otherwise. He smiled, a real genuine smile that only she could pull from him these days.

"Harry, I'm here every Saturday night, like I have been for months. Do you really think a little chill in the air would keep me from our stargazing?"

Her hair was longer now, sweeping down to barely rest on her shoulders. He yearned to brush it away so that he could caress the smooth skin of her neck, but he didn't - he held his hands in his lap and looked back up to the sky, attempting to ignore the emotions inside of him. She settled next to him, leaning into his side and looping her elbow with his.

"Need a warming charm?" he asked her.

Burrowing into him further, she shook her head. "No, the chill is welcoming, actually. Makes me feel alive."

He knew what she meant without needing her to explain. He felt the same way - the feeling of the cold as it seeped through his cloak making his exposed skin numb was welcoming. It wasn't a bone shaking cold tonight - just the kind that when he inhaled, he felt the air travel through his body. It made his lungs expand and his heartbeat slow to a steady pace. Then he'd exhale, the cloud of warm breath bleeding the pain and negativity from inside his soul.

"Hermione?" he asked after a while of silence.

"Hmm . . ."

"Why do you come here with me?" The question had been scrambling to the front of his mind for weeks now, months if he were honest with himself. Every week, like clockwork she would show up and sit with him - sometimes for ten minutes, sometimes they'd sit there for hours. Some nights, they'd talk, while many nights they sat in silence, pressed close to one another.

She didn't respond right away, but he did notice the way she struggled to control her breathing. He wrapped his other palm around her small hand tucked into his elbow and looked down. She had her lip pulled tightly between her teeth, and a small crease formed on the bridge of her nose. In an attempt to assure her, he squeezed lightly around her fingers, and finally, she looked up to him. Her eyes were round and wide, the darkness of night making her irises look like a solar eclipse.

"Harry, I come because you need me," she eventually answered resolutely before adding softly, "and because I need you."

The clouds above shifted, and the nearly full moon above shined down brightly on them. He was sure she had never looked more beautiful. The way her curls bounced with every twitch of her head, the way her nose and cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, the way her long lashes blinked away a lone tear that streaked down her cheek to cling to her chin.

He reached out to brush it away, but let his fingers linger upon her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned her face into his palm. Stoking her skin with his thumb, he noticed it was softer than he had imagined.

"Hermione," he breathed.

She looked at him, their faces just inches apart and blinked. He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, but decided to continue, to assure her of her worries.

"Thank you."

Her eyes were so bright in the pale light, her palm a welcoming warmth as she placed it gently on his face. Their eyes never left each other's, each of them studying the other, trying to discern their emotions towards the inevitable.

The wind shifted, whistling around their protected spot and Hermione blinked before training her eyes to his lips. Harry took the moment and leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. He moved his hand along her jaw, tilting her face up to his and pressed his lips against her own.

It was as if a light had been ignited inside of him, shining its beauty across his battered soul to feel something other than darkness. Their lips worked together effortlessly, and they drank from each other as if each would break without the fuel the other provided.

When they finally pulled away, flurries had begun to fall, tiny snowflakes littering their hiding spot. She looked like an angel, the moon highlighted behind her like a halo. She smiled up at him, and he pulled her close, circling his arms around her.

They sat in silence for a long while, not saying anything as the feeling of being wrapped up in each other's arms was all that was needed.

"Harry . . ."

"Hmm . . ."

"Thank you."