AN; Hey, everyone! This won't be a long story, I'll try and cap it at about five chapters. Now, I'm pretty knew to the whole fan fiction thing, so this might not be... you know... good. But please keep any and all criticisms constructive, and I'll see you at the bottom.

Chapter 1 - Tissues & Tears

Kneeling down near the divide between grass and canvas, Hermione peeked out through the opening in the tent into the dusk outside. The chilly wind of the winter season caressed her face, messed up her already bushy tangle of hair, and stung her eyes somewhat, causing her to squint a little. She ducked behind the canvas wall of the tent briefly to rub her watering eyes, and then continued to watch the scene outside.

Perched on top of a log outside the tent, staring down at a tattered piece of parchment and with Hermione's wand lying ignored next to him, was Harry Potter. His features were illuminated by the jar of lambent, softly crackling bluebell flames before him. There was a telltale glint of reflected light somewhere near Harry's midsection that, Hermione knew, came from the locket dangling from Harry's neck. The presence of the locket was disturbing – while Harry's messy black hair, overly large clothes and the corners of the parchment he was holding danced in the breeze, the locket hung motionless and unyielding, like a corpse strung up by a noose.

Hermione crept out from her hiding place, treading lightly so she made as little noise as possible. It was only when she was a few feet behind him when she halted, brushing her wild, wind-possessed hair from her face. Over Harry's shoulder, she could see dark blotches on the Marauder's Map where his tears had fallen. He was shivering, Hermione knew, not from the bitter gusts of wind he was being forced to endure, but from the sheer level of emotion he was trying to stifle, augmented by the magic of the Horcrux around his neck.

"Harry?" she said in barely more than a whisper. With the Horcrux present, Hermione knew she had to take things slowly and delicately; the last time they let its dark magic get the better of them, Ron had walked out on them. Hermione felt her heart give a sudden jolt - thinking of Ron was still quite painful.

"… What do you want?" Harry replied after a moment of eerie quiet, the crackle of the bluebell flames the only sound that could be heard. He glared at Hermione over his shoulder; his brilliant green eyes glistened with tears, and there were tracks down his cheeks where his tears had dripped down onto the Map.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked. There was another moment of near silence, during which Harry almost looked like he would hex Hermione with her own wand. Hermione almost wouldn't blame him if he did, as she was invading on his privacy. She couldn't help but feel worried about his recent behavior, however, and she felt as though she needed to act.

Harry then nodded, and Hermione scurried over and sat herself down beside him before he could change his mind. Harry then returned to gazing at the map, completely ignoring Hermione's presence. Hermione watched him, frowning, and saw a tear trickle down the traced tear line on Harry's left cheek, and then splatter over a dot on the Map labeled "Ginny Weasley".

"You really miss her, don't you?" Hermione whispered. Harry didn't seem to react to this, and Hermione sighed, knowing that really, it was a question that didn't need answering. But then, suddenly, Harry spoke, his voice shaking slightly.

"Every night, Hermione… every night I search for her on the map." He sniffed, and paused to wipe his eyes. Hermione fumbled in the bottomless bag around her shoulder for a box of tissues, and passed one to him. He gave a grunt of thanks as he folded the Map up and dropped it next to Hermione's wand. He blew his nose, before tossing the tissue into the jar to be engulfed by the flames inside. "And I always hope," he continued, "that she knows that I'm thinking of her…"

"Harry, you know she loves you!" Hermione replied, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's arm. "And I'm sure she thinks of you every night, too!" Harry gave another loud sniff, and then removed his glasses, exposing his gorgeous green eyes.

"I just sometimes wish she was here with me…" muttered Harry, rubbing the lenses on the hem of his overlarge shirt. Hermione couldn't help but grimace – the shirt had patches of dirt and grime all over it. She rolled her eyes.

"Take that shirt off, you can't go fighting Death Eaters dressed like that…" she demanded, afterwards feeling slightly astonished at how much she sounded like Ron's mum. Harry gave a weak grin, and tugged the old shirt over his messy black hair. The locket landed with a dull thud against his bare chest. Hermione felt a swoop in her stomach, like she had butterflies, and suddenly felt herself wondering why men didn't just walk around topless all the time. She shook her head, trying to block the perverse thought from her head.

"It's getting late, I think I'll go to bed in a bit…" he told the frozen Hermione, looking at the watch he had received for his birthday that year, then standing up and passing the shirt to his companion. He raised his arms over his head and stretched, puffing his chest out. Hermione gave a rapid nod which made her neck hurt afterwards.

"Um, yeah…" she mumbled, "I think I'll wash this first, though. Or, I'll forget, you know." Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"You have an amazing memory, Hermione!" he exclaimed. Hermione paused briefly, as her brilliant mind was currently void of any thought that didn't involve Harry's chest. She shook her head again, as she felt her face become hot.

"Yes, well, um… best to get it done, I suppose!" she replied, trying to avoid looking at Harry. "You never know when we'll be setting out again!" Harry gave her a suspicious look, but seemed to disregard her unusual behavior. He turned around and headed towards the tent.

Hermione was rooted to the spot, though her eyes followed Harry's bottom back into the tent. When he was safely out of view, she glanced from side to side. Gradually, she put Harry's shirt up to her nose, closed her eyes, and breathed in Harry's scent. Then, her eyes opened wide, and she threw the shirt away from her.

"What are you doing, Hermione…?" she whispered to herself. She bit her lip, staring into space for a moment, before hiding her face in her hands.

AN; Me again! This felt a little bit rushed when I first did it, so I tried to proofread and revise it. Every minor tweak left me wondering if I should have left it, though. Ah well, I know where I'm going with this, at any rate. But it's your opinions that count, people! :3