AN: I don't own Harry Potter! Please read and let me know what you think. It was meant to be a short little one shot but it could definitely grow into something longer. Maybe I'm the only stuck on Hermione/Fred, but they are such a perfect pair. Anyway let me know if I should continue or just leave it at this. Thank you!

I Solemnly Swear

"My turn Harry, give me the locket and try to sleep," said Hermione.

Harry watched her don her coat, and slip the locket over her head. Ever since Ron left their conversations were softer, quieter, both mourning the loss of their red headed friend. She gave him one last small tight lipped smile, and he leaned closer to kiss her forehead.

Ron.

Her heart ached when she thought of him. The hurt he had caused them was something she wasn't certain she'd ever forgive.

After all they'd been through, he left them. Abandoned them, starving, cold and tired. She tried to think of him as little as possible, because deep down she knew that Ronald Weasley was a good man, a good friend. But right now it felt good to be angry at someone, if she was angry she could ignore the sadness and the pain. Being mad at him was as numbing as the cold bitter winter they were stuck in.

It was cold. It was always cold out these days, she couldn't remember what it felt like to be warm. It was during these nights that she let her mind wander. But dutifully kept her mind away from the one that she missed the most.

Fred.

The last time she had seen him they spent hours locked in a tight embrace. It was the night before the wedding, everybody had gone to bed when she snuck downstairs to meet him. He threw her overhead his lap and let his lips drop on hers. She cried, while he smiled and wiped her tears away. She was scared that this might be the last time she would have the chance to be with him, but he promised that they would make it out alive.

"I'm Fred Weasley, nothing can harm," he whispered with a lopsided grin.

After his brave declaration no other words were necessary. They kissed until they both were gasping for air. She pressed her body fully onto his, burying her nose in the crook of his neck, desperate to memorize everything that made this man Fred. His smell of gun powder and tea, the feel of his hands grasping at her hips, the softness of his hair, the feeling of safety he provided, the love so overwhelming that choked her and robbed her of words.

Not once, had she stopped crying. This meeting, tucked away by the hearth of the Burrow, was different from all the others before. They weren't in Hogwarts, running through the halls, looking for a place to share a quick snog. No, to Hermione Granger, this felt like a farewell.

How she wished she could go back to that night and enveloped herself in Fred Weasley's arms. It'd been so long since that night, so long since she felt warm, so long since she hadn't felt hunger. But she had a duty, to Harry Potter, that she would see this war to the end.

Harry.

Harry was one of the few people that knew the truth of her relationship with Fred. After she sent her parents to Australia it had been him that held her countless times as she cried for to muggles that had no idea who she was. And she, in return, held him when the war became too much, when he cried for the unfairness of the world, she kissed his forehead as a mother would a weeping child and he would cling to her begging her not to leave. "I'll always be there," she'd whisper back, repeating it over and over like a mantra.

Thankfully Harry didn't seem as affected, physically at least, from their life in hiding. She always made sure to give the boys as much food as possible, even if it meant she went to sleep with only warm tea in her belly. She had to take care of him, she had to make sure he made it to the end of this stupid war, and when the end came, she had to be certain he was strong enough to succeed.

Harry Potter wasn't as thick as one Ronald Weasley, and while the red headed boy had eaten in silence, Harry hesitated. He took to looking after her in other ways, dropping a blanket on her shoulders, making her countless cups of tea, sneaking her a little bit of chocolate when she seemed dead on her feet. The emotionally stunted little boy, had grown into a wonderful and caring man right before her eyes. It wasn't too long ago that physical affection made him uncomfortable, but now, more often than not, it was him that initiated their hugs. Their affection never ventured beyond a typical sibling relationship, very close, but without the romance.

"I'm going to take care of you Mione," he told her once. "I promised him I'd look after you, I promised him and myself."

She smiled remembering that day. The world was truly going to hell, and there was Harry, holding her hand and giving her a warm smile.

But her smile was quickly replaced by a shiver as the cold penetrated her coat. The bitter wind brought her back to their little tent in the middle of the Forest of Dean and the never ending snow. She ignored the dropping temperatures and pulled open the first two buttons of her coat reaching for the silver chain she had taken to wearing. Hanging delicately from it was a ring, a plain white gold band. Looking at it always made her cry, because it reminded her of what she had left behind.

It wasn't her mother's ring as she had told Ron, and it wasn't the promise ring Harry thought it was.

She pulled the band off the chain and slip the ring on the third finger of her left hand. The bright metal hung loosely on her now too skinny finger. Unable to keep looking at it, she slipped it off.

There was a tiny inscription on the inside, she read it silently. Allowing the words to sooth her aching heart, it was a promise, a declaration, the essence of what she and Fred were. The three words, carved on this bit of gold managed to renew her strength. She clutched the ring to her heaving chest. Suddenly, in her mind, the token transformed, from a reminder of everything she had left behind, into a beacon of hope, proof of everything she had left to fight for.

Capricious tears escaped her tightly shut eyes, but no, she wouldn't cry anymore. She would fight to stay alive long enough to see Fred again. Long enough to have the life they had dreamed of.

She thought of Harry, and Ron, and her parents, and the Weasleys, and her friends. But this time, instead of avoiding any and every thought of Fred Weasley, she remembered him fondly, laughing with her, whispering loving words in her ear, holding her close, she remembered the love of her husband.

"I solemnly swear…" she read the inscription out loud.

To love you.

R&R!