Author's notes: Thank you to MikaBird, for the as ever fabulous beta.

This birthday fic is a part of my Friends Challenge. Jaelle n'ha Gilla gave me the following words to include: cat, tablecloth, "The end of the world as we know it", "I love you", "I hate you", haunted house and loyalty, as well as Maschendrahtzaun for an extra challenge. This fic is what I wrote for her.

From Midnight till Dawn

(for Jaelle n'ha Gilla)

The clock in the Gryffindor common room struck twelve times – midnight.

"Sorry, but you can't come with me. I've got to go alone."

The portrait door closed shut behind Harry and a small black cat shot inside through the rapidly closing gap.

Hermione sighed. Harry had been determined to meet Voldemort all alone. Nobody could have convinced him to share the final fight. The teachers had talked to him endlessly, but after Dumbledore gone, there was nobody left to reason with Harry any more. Ron had shouted, she herself had argued, but Harry had stayed firm. He would be going alone. A move, totally unexpected by one such as Voldemort, who always tried to surround himself with allies to do the dirty work for him.

The spy Snape had told them that the former Tom Riddle was hiding in the Shrieking Shack, preparing for the final battle. The haunted house was where Harry was heading right now, determined to end the war tonight with a surprise attack.

An angry hiss emerged from nearby the fireplace. Crookshanks stood his ground towards the small intruder, his fur a bushy mass of ginger hair. The black cat hurried to get out of the reach of his claws, hiding away under the sofa.

"Oh my, look at that silly beast," complained Ron. "She should know by now that she shouldn't mess with Crookshanks." He threw a reproachful look beneath the sofa. Green eyes gleamed back at him from the dark. The newest member of Gryffindor House hissed from its hiding place.

"Let her stay! She will relax if we simply leave her alone. Besides, the cats will sort out the hierarchy among themselves," Hermione lectured. Ron rolled his eyes. He was no particular cat lover, but this case was different. When Ginny was made Prefect at the beginning of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she had been bestowed with a present from her parents. Ginny had always wanted a pet. Cats were currently very popular and she could lend Pig at any time from Ron, so she had chosen the little black cat at the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. Ginny would have Ron's balls for breakfast if her cat got hurt when he could have prevented a fight.

"Thanks for informing me. It's quite easy for you to be relaxed about it. It won't be Crookshanks, who will be killed if…" Ron stopped dead in the middle of his rant.

Hermione let out a terrified shriek and clasped a hand in front of her mouth. "Ron, don't!" Her eyes were big and shining with fear.

Ron cast his eyes down. "I'm sorry."

They settled down on the sofa, ignoring the ominous hissing and growling that indicated the budding fight beneath it. Besides the two friends and the cats, the common room was deserted. Although no one had issued an official statement, many of the young wizards had been called home. Now, with the loss of Dumbledore's protection, Hogwarts was nothing special any longer, a place as safe as any other could be, and a lot of the families preferred to stay closer these days than they had before. The remaining of their housemates had already gone to bed, leaving the common room to the resilient vigilance of the witch and wizard whom Harry trusted the most.

The amount of students left was too small to give them any homework. Due to the fierce research she had been occupied with over the last weeks, Hermione had no academic way out tonight. Every book had been read, every chart was drawn, every calculation done. She simply sat and stared at Ron, who absentmindedly twiddled with one of the chess figures in his hands. Finally the knight, annoyed to the point of spitting venom, used his sword to pick Ron's palm. The young man flinched and put the knight back on the board, where the piece started to polish his sword.

&

The flames in the fireplace threw shadows into the common room. They hurried over the armchairs and sofas and danced high on the walls, as if trying to reach the ceiling.

With Ron's hopefully undivided attention, Hermione tried for a conversation. "Ron… I," she broke off and didn't finish her sentence. After an awkward silence, she started anew. "He…" And again, she couldn't continue. "I tried, you know."

"Hey, love, I know." Ron attempted to reassure her. With a strangled sob, Hermione turned away from him and eyed a tattered, medium sized cardboard box placed on the table in front of the fireplace. A word unknown to her, Maschendrahtzaun, was printed on the front side.

"He left his belongings in there, for us. If… if… in case he doesn't come back." She shuddered under her words, and a desperate need marked her voice. "I don't want his farewell gifts in the morning. I want him, back and safe with us."

"He will come back."

"How do you know? Anything could happen tonight! And he is all on his own."

Ron shrugged. "I can't explain this. I simply know that Harry will come back." He swallowed hard. "Maybe because I can't imagine a world without him."

He tried to distract her with a game of Exploding Snap, and Hermione assented, if only to show her appreciation of the effort. But the play lacked the fun of other evenings and soon they resumed their uninterrupted night shift.

&

This time, it was Ron's turn to speak up.

"I remember one night in the boy's dorm," he said. "We imitated all kinds of animals and machines, and Harry did a steam engine. The steam escaped through his ears and we were all laughing, having a good time. I've never seen him so happy before. Like he was realising that being a wizard wasn't always about living up to the expectation of others, but could simply be about having fun, at times."

Hermione listened with shining eyes.

"I was always special to him. I never needed to prove this," murmured Ron. "Why wouldn't he let us come with him? If he needs us, we won't be there."

Hermione's answer was a tiny whisper – much too soft to fill the common room. "He needs us to survive," she said. "He needs to know that we are safe. Imagine you were out there on your own. You would need…"

"… I would need you to be safe." Ron's hand crept towards her own and their fingers entwined. "I love you. Both of you."

She leaned towards him until her head came to a rest at his shoulder.

"I never told him," muttered Ron.

"Don't worry," she attempted to console him, "he knows."

The shadows in the room slowly grew darker.

&

I love you. I hate you. Those were strong words; Hermione mused. Words had the power to build a person up or to tear them apart. Spells. Powerful words made powerful wizards. But then, there were wizards who would overcome the most powerful spells. When nothing more than a tiny baby, protected by the love of his mother, Harry had already survived the Killing Curse being thrown at him. Words were strong, but people could be stronger, tying themselves to the strongest bonds of all – friendship, loyalty, love.

&

A log in the fireplace broke with a loud crack. Hermione jumped. "Shhh, it's nothing. Just a stupid piece of wood." Ron touched her shoulder from behind. "It's nothing."

"I know," she said. "It's just… I… I can't stand it burning down."

Absentmindedly, she brushed some bread crumbs to the floor, where the black cat started to trundle them with her paw. She watched her and straightened the tablecloth.

Hermione released a shuddering sigh. "Either way, tonight will be the end of the world as we know it." Ron didn't answer, but simply put a warm blanket around her shivering frame. He took her hand in both of his and pressed it hard.

And they waited.

The silence connected them, shutting them off from the world. They drifted in a bubble of time, waiting, hoping for Harry to come back.

&

The hours ticked away.

"It's burning down." Hermione's desperate voice broke the silence. Ron quietly stood up and placed another log into the lingering flames. "I won't let it die tonight," he stated.

&

Their watch stretched further and further into the night.

Hermione grew stiff and chilly from their vigil, not noticing that the blanket had slipped down from her shoulders.

Sometimes, a soft meow would startle and shake them out of their exhausted reverie. But the sign they were waiting for did not come.

The wood in the fireplace was slowly reduced to gleaming coals and ashes, still radiating with warmth. The shadows in the common room were small now, licking at the feet of those two whose watch was almost over.

&

She was fighting to keep her eyes open, when the portrait door finally opened and a grey tabby cat slipped through. Hermione jerked fully awake and looked up with bleary eyes. The opening widened further and a black haired boy climbed into the common room. "Harry!" She could feel Ron's body beside her, shaking from the sudden release of tension. They both leaped to their feet and ran towards their friend. Harry's face was streaked with dirt, he looked bone weary and exhausted.

"You're back!" They embraced him, Hermione first. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks. Ron's embrace covered them both, the crying girl as well as the silent boy in her arms. "You're back," whispered Hermione again.

A sigh came from the young man. "Yes, I'm back." His voice shook ever so slightly.

They slowly made their way back to the sofa, never letting go, always resuming their hold onto each other. Each leaned into the other two, overwhelmed by their emotions and still unable to speak. It was the young woman who first lifted her tear stained face to look at the boys. Her eye caught a sudden movement and in the middle of her emotional turmoil, she couldn't prevent herself from laughing.

"Harry, Ron, look!" she pointed towards the fireplace, "look at Crookshanks!" The ginger cat watched the smaller tabby, which played with a loose fringe of the carpet right under Crookshanks' nose. He looked like he was almost smiling benignly.

"I don't believe it," said Ron. "She must have bewitched Crookshanks."

"Look at him. Look at Crookshanks," the pride was clearly audible in Hermione's voice. "He is so friendly."

"Whose cat is this, anyway? I've never seen her before tonight," asked Ron.

"She is just a harmless stray. I didn't have the heart to chase her away. She accompanied me all the way back from the Shrieking Shack," said Harry. "You know… after… I fought… with Voldemort." His words came hesitatingly, but his voice never faltered. "I'm glad it's over."

Ron took a deep breath and opened his mouth, then closed it again. Harry would talk on his own time, when he was ready.

"We will have to tell the teachers and everybody else." That was Hermione, wiping her tears away, always the organised mind.

"We will."

"We can wait until the morning, though."

&

A indignant meow drew their attention back to the cats. The tabby was chasing Crookshanks' tail, who allowed the mischief with a stoic look on his face. Holding each others hands, they silently watched the little cat's peaceful game. Suddenly, Crookshanks' ginger fur started to gleam. Hermione looked towards the window, where the sky outside was tinged with every shade of red. The rising sun coloured everything in the Gryffindor common room red and gold.

"Harry! Ron!" she squeezed their hands and smiled. "Dawn is breaking."

Still holding hands, they stood up and left the room, to meet the light of the new day, to live and tell.