Disclaimer: Harry Potter is so not mine. To give credit where it is due, I worship Rowling.
A/N: This one's weird... but better than my others. It takes place during Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts, which is interrupted by the war. Also, the rest of it isn't as smutty as this... don't worry that I've gone sappy. The rest is action-packed, I assure you.
I was using a damp cloth to clean the blood carefully from my face. My lip only bled more. One heavy drop finally splattered and sped upon the chrome surface of the wash tub. I stared at it for a moment. Another day, another battle, another drop of blood to clean up. Ignoring the cut on my lip, which continued gushing, I checked for any other bruises or cuts. There were none. It seemed my scarred skin was tougher now. I began to clean up the sink. I knew it was useless. For every drop of blood I cleaned up, two more fell from my lip and took its place. But I didn't have anything to stop the bleeding with. I would have to clean until the blood stopped by itself. Knowing this, I began to cry. Soon both blood and tears were flowing into the sink. I still tried cleaning it.
I heard a door open and close. I scrubbed harder at the sink. I heard footsteps approach. I attempted to control my sobs. I didn't look up until one finger slid along the curve of my jaw, pulling my eyes up to see him in the face. "Even if you keep rubbing it, it still won't come clean." He said, his finger neared my lip. I pulled back a step.
"It won't if I never try." I said. He smiled and took a tissue from his pocket, applying it to my cut. I winced, but didn't complain. I was stronger than that.
"Let me." He said, taking the bloodied cloth from my hands. "Hold this." He said, indicating the tissue. I did as he said and watched him wipe up the last of the blood and turn on the faucet, washing my tears down the drain. There were still dull reddish coloured stains, but I would not have done so well. The blood was flowing less freely from my cut. It would be sore, but the bleeding would stop with in hour, even without magical help.
"You should go home." He told me.
"You should too." I mumbled back, "Your required time has long since been over."
"Yours never began."
"He's my best friend; I'll fight beside him always." I stated.
"And as long as you're beside him, I will be too." He reminded me. I knew this, of course, he'd told me a hundred times, but somehow I couldn't just leave. Not for my own safety or even the safety of my lover. Not when my best friends were fighting an evil I could flee. Just because I was the only girl on the field didn't mean I was expendable. I wouldn't leave. I would fight to the end.
"Come on." He said, pulling me from my determined thoughts, "Madame Pomfrey will heal you." I nodded, leaning on him the way back to the hospital tent.
***
I was still awake long after Oliver had fallen asleep. I rested my head on his bare chest. My lips were still puffy, not only because it wasn't fully healed, but also from the bruising kissed Oliver had passionately given. How could this man, whom I loved, feel so much when I felt so little? How could he take each day and still have anything left over for passion? What gave him the strength to make love to me every time we went to bed? Did he know how he helped me survive? Without him, I knew I would have been long since dead. I wished so thoroughly that I had the strength to strengthen him.
***
I was up, dressed, and had already eaten before Oliver had even buckled his belt. I had gone outside briefly to see the sun setting. I hadn't thought I would get used to the sleeping during the day, battling at night thing, but now I was afraid I would never be able to stay awake in the day again. "Hermione?" I heard Oliver call.
"I'm right here." I said as my gorgeous significant other strolled to me. He stood behind me and I leaned against him, attempting to perhaps melt our strengths together. He was without a shirt. As usual. Shirts weren't his forte. In fact, he only owned 3 of them and wore them rarely. All the better, in my opinion, because he had the chest of a god.
"You ready?" Oliver asked into my ear.
"No." I whispered back. I didn't want to go to the meeting tent. I wanted to stay with him, "Let's go." I grabbed his hand and he followed me to the meeting tent.
Harry was waiting there. I wanted to ask about Ron, but I knew better. Ron was either on some very secret mission, as Harry kept insisting, or was really, really ill, as I suspected. I kept my mouth closed. Harry shook Oliver's hand, as he did every evening, and gave me a hug. "We're just waiting for Remus tonight." He said. I nodded. The five of us, Harry, Ron, Oliver, Remus and I all made one team. With Ron incapacitated- or rather "on a mission"- it was just the four of us. I suspected we wouldn't be joining the other groups again tonight. Quite often, our little group traveled by ourselves, sneaking in past the enemy while they were distracted. It had cost us a lot in the past. Remus and Oliver hadn't always been on the team, if you get my drift.
I was staring at Harry, trying to unmask what was behind his eyes when Remus entered. "Good evening everyone." He said very gentlemen like. I hugged him, and he shook hands with Harry and Oliver.
"Let's get started then." And Harry began to lay out the plan.
A/N: This one's weird... but better than my others. It takes place during Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts, which is interrupted by the war. Also, the rest of it isn't as smutty as this... don't worry that I've gone sappy. The rest is action-packed, I assure you.
I was using a damp cloth to clean the blood carefully from my face. My lip only bled more. One heavy drop finally splattered and sped upon the chrome surface of the wash tub. I stared at it for a moment. Another day, another battle, another drop of blood to clean up. Ignoring the cut on my lip, which continued gushing, I checked for any other bruises or cuts. There were none. It seemed my scarred skin was tougher now. I began to clean up the sink. I knew it was useless. For every drop of blood I cleaned up, two more fell from my lip and took its place. But I didn't have anything to stop the bleeding with. I would have to clean until the blood stopped by itself. Knowing this, I began to cry. Soon both blood and tears were flowing into the sink. I still tried cleaning it.
I heard a door open and close. I scrubbed harder at the sink. I heard footsteps approach. I attempted to control my sobs. I didn't look up until one finger slid along the curve of my jaw, pulling my eyes up to see him in the face. "Even if you keep rubbing it, it still won't come clean." He said, his finger neared my lip. I pulled back a step.
"It won't if I never try." I said. He smiled and took a tissue from his pocket, applying it to my cut. I winced, but didn't complain. I was stronger than that.
"Let me." He said, taking the bloodied cloth from my hands. "Hold this." He said, indicating the tissue. I did as he said and watched him wipe up the last of the blood and turn on the faucet, washing my tears down the drain. There were still dull reddish coloured stains, but I would not have done so well. The blood was flowing less freely from my cut. It would be sore, but the bleeding would stop with in hour, even without magical help.
"You should go home." He told me.
"You should too." I mumbled back, "Your required time has long since been over."
"Yours never began."
"He's my best friend; I'll fight beside him always." I stated.
"And as long as you're beside him, I will be too." He reminded me. I knew this, of course, he'd told me a hundred times, but somehow I couldn't just leave. Not for my own safety or even the safety of my lover. Not when my best friends were fighting an evil I could flee. Just because I was the only girl on the field didn't mean I was expendable. I wouldn't leave. I would fight to the end.
"Come on." He said, pulling me from my determined thoughts, "Madame Pomfrey will heal you." I nodded, leaning on him the way back to the hospital tent.
***
I was still awake long after Oliver had fallen asleep. I rested my head on his bare chest. My lips were still puffy, not only because it wasn't fully healed, but also from the bruising kissed Oliver had passionately given. How could this man, whom I loved, feel so much when I felt so little? How could he take each day and still have anything left over for passion? What gave him the strength to make love to me every time we went to bed? Did he know how he helped me survive? Without him, I knew I would have been long since dead. I wished so thoroughly that I had the strength to strengthen him.
***
I was up, dressed, and had already eaten before Oliver had even buckled his belt. I had gone outside briefly to see the sun setting. I hadn't thought I would get used to the sleeping during the day, battling at night thing, but now I was afraid I would never be able to stay awake in the day again. "Hermione?" I heard Oliver call.
"I'm right here." I said as my gorgeous significant other strolled to me. He stood behind me and I leaned against him, attempting to perhaps melt our strengths together. He was without a shirt. As usual. Shirts weren't his forte. In fact, he only owned 3 of them and wore them rarely. All the better, in my opinion, because he had the chest of a god.
"You ready?" Oliver asked into my ear.
"No." I whispered back. I didn't want to go to the meeting tent. I wanted to stay with him, "Let's go." I grabbed his hand and he followed me to the meeting tent.
Harry was waiting there. I wanted to ask about Ron, but I knew better. Ron was either on some very secret mission, as Harry kept insisting, or was really, really ill, as I suspected. I kept my mouth closed. Harry shook Oliver's hand, as he did every evening, and gave me a hug. "We're just waiting for Remus tonight." He said. I nodded. The five of us, Harry, Ron, Oliver, Remus and I all made one team. With Ron incapacitated- or rather "on a mission"- it was just the four of us. I suspected we wouldn't be joining the other groups again tonight. Quite often, our little group traveled by ourselves, sneaking in past the enemy while they were distracted. It had cost us a lot in the past. Remus and Oliver hadn't always been on the team, if you get my drift.
I was staring at Harry, trying to unmask what was behind his eyes when Remus entered. "Good evening everyone." He said very gentlemen like. I hugged him, and he shook hands with Harry and Oliver.
"Let's get started then." And Harry began to lay out the plan.