Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I'm only borrowing her amazing creations for a non profit ride around my own fantasy land.

A.N.: This story starts right after Chapter 16 of Deathly Hallows ends. i.e. right after Ron leaves Harry and Hermione during the horcrux search. This is my opinion about how some of the moments Harry and Hermione shared together would have developed.

I extracted some pieces of the book and added them to the story (they are highlighted in bold).

I hope you enjoy it this one.


"Godric's Hollow and The Forest of Dean"

Hermione returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.

"He's g-g-gone! Disapparated!"

She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.

Harry felt dazed. He stooped, picked up the Horcrux, and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off Ron's bunk and threw them over Hermione.

She didn't answer but Harry saw her shifting her position a little so that the blankets would shield her from the cold.

He didn't know why, but listening to her sobbing made something boil with fury inside him. Ron had left him and that fact hurt him deeply but the fact that he had also left her behind… He wanted nothing more than to release his rage against Ron and the first target ended up being the small table next to Hermione's chair. Everything that had been there before flew across the tent when Harry kicked it.

"Harry, don't…" Hermione mumbled lifting her eyes to meet his.

"You should've gone with him!" he roared turning his back on her

"What?!" she asked absolutely surprised.

"Look at you, you're miserable without him…"

"Harry, I'm not leaving you…" she said. She stood up and took some steps towards him until she was able to touch his shoulder with a soft hand.

"You should" he snapped and walked away from her "He's right, you should've gone with him".

"Take it off!" she almost yelled at him. She was still crying, all she wanted was to curl up in a ball and disappear, the last thing she needed was a fight with Harry. No. She definitely wouldn't be able to tolerate that.

He completely ignored her so she walked towards him again and this time she didn't stop until she was standing right in front of him. For a moment, brown eyes met green. Her eyes we red and puffy, the tears staning her clean complection. Harry felt that he could kill someone just to take away the tears in her eyes. He hated it when she cried.

"Please…" she whispered and she took a step closer to take the locket off of his neck herself.

The moment she left the horcrux fall next to them, Harry felt a small weight lifting from his chest and his concern for his friend quickly overshadowed his rage.

"I'm sorry" he said almost automatically.

But Hermione didn't listen. When she saw the warm look of concern in her best friend's eyes, she couldn't hold it anymore and she collapsed in tears against his chest.

"He's really gone…" she cried while Harry held her as tight as he could, feeling absolutely useless because there was nothing he could say to make her feel better.

"He is…" he confirmed in a whisper and felt her shaking with the tears against him.

He held her until she had no more tears to cry. Her sobs eventually faded into the pounding of the rain and after hours of tears, she finally fell asleep in Harry's arms. When he was sure that she would not wake up again, he laid her on her bed and covered her body with some extra blankets. Harry spent that night sitting on a chair next to her bed, watching her sleep with the excuse that one of them should be up while the other slept to keep watch.


They did not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined never to mention his name again and Hermione seemed to know that it was no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night when she thought he was sleeping, he would hear her crying.

There was nothing in the world Harry wanted more than to comfort her when she cried. But he knew he couldn't. He had spent the last years trying to deny himself what he felt for her and climbing into her bed to hold her when she cried would certainly mean throwing away all of his efforts.

No. He wasn't strong enough to comfort her as a friend and although Ron had seriously wronged them, Harry remained loyal to his best friend. He knew that if he approached Hermione to soothe her pain when she cried in the middle of the night, he wouldn't be able to keep those long ago hidden feelings for her out of the way.

He had always cared for her, she was his best friend, his partner, and right now, she was his whole world. He couldn't imagine what it could be like to lose her… but he couldn't go any closer, not if he wanted to remain faithful to the promise he had made to himself when he learned about Ron's feelings for her. His would love for her would be infinite, but he would force himself to love her as nothing more than a sister. And to keep that promise, he needed to keep his distance in order to convince himself that he could ignore the way he really felt about her.


"Harry, they're here . . . right here."

And he knew by her tone that it was his mother and father this time: He moved toward her, feeling as if something heavy were pressing on his chest, the same sensation he had had right after Dumbledore had died, a grief that had actually weighed on his heart and lungs.

[...]

JAMES POTTER - LILY POTTER

BORN 27 MARCH 1960 - BORN 30 JANUARY 1960

DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981 - DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Harry read the words slowly, as though he would have only one chance to take in their meaning, and he read the last of them aloud.

"'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'..." A horrible thought came to him, and with a kind of panic. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Hermione, her voice gentle. "It means… you know… living beyond death. Living after death."

But they were not living, thought Harry. They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents' moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing.

And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

Hermione felt something breaking inside her when she saw the tears falling silently from Harry's eyes. Watching him cry wasn't something she was used to. Before she could stop them, she felt her own tears starting to fall down her face . She cried for James and Lily, because their deaths had been a heartrending tragedy, they had only been a few years older than them when their lives had been cruelly stolen from them… they had had their whole life ahead them… and it had been taken away. But the real reason for her tears was Harry.

For a moment, when she saw him crying silently in front of his parents' grave, she thought that maybe she shouldn't have given up on him after fifth year. She had never met somebody who needed to be loved as much as Harry did and yet she hadn't been strong enough to fight for him. Hermione could face all kinds of dangers, but she hadn't been able to fight against Harry's walls and her own insecurities. She had accepted the fact that he would never think about her that way and had taken the easy path trying to hide her feelings for him. In that moment, she regretted her decision. Her old and almost forgotten romantic feelings for him returned with the strength of a hurricane. Right then, she wanted to hold him, and kiss him and show him that he was worthy of a love as strong as his parents' had been.

But she had made her choice. Hermione would be whatever he needed her to be but she wouldn't act on her old feelings for him. And even if she decided that she would try to fight for him now, she knew that he didn't feel for her the same way she felt for him deep inside the hidden corners of her heart.

She couldn't give him all her love, but she still had that ability to read his thoughts so, when she saw his guilty expression she deciphered it in a second and before he could say anything she conjured a wreath of Christmas roses and watched him lay it on his parents' grave while she wipped her own tears.

When he stood up and his green eyes met hers, Hermione understood his silent plea. He needed to get out of that place, he couldn't stand the pain of being there anymore. She nodded and when he put his arm around her shoulders, Hermione put hers around Harry's waist, holding him as tightly as she dared and trying to make him feel how deeply she cared for him with that simple gesture.

They both walked away through the snow and Harry wipped off the last tears. He thought about Hermione in silence, about how good it felt to have a woman in his arms and to have her arms wrapped around him, about how thankful he felt to have her by his side and to had had her by his side for all those years. And he thought about his mother and his father and the bond of love they had shared. For the first time in his life, he realised that he wanted that kind of love for himself, he wanted to be someone's father, he wanted a family and an unbreakable bond of love with a woman who would be by his side forever. And before he could stop his thoughts, his arms wrapped even tightly around Hermione's body and he knew, if he hadn't known since the first time he had laid eyes on her, that she was the woman with whom he wanted to share the future his parents couldn't have; even when he knew that he could never have her.


Hermione pressed the cool damp washcloth against Harry's forehead for the umptheenth time while he struggled in his sleep. She had long ago given up on her useless attempts at waking him up and all she could do was try to keep his fever controlled.

"Shh…" she shooted him placing one hand on his cheek when she felt him tense his whole body again. His face tensed showing an expression of pain and he moaned while a few tears rolled down his sweaty face.

"Stand aside!" he cried completely consumed by the nightmare.

"Shh… it's ok" she tried to calm him again and leaned closer to him until her head was resting on his chest, after a few hours she had discovered that the contact seemed to help him.

He started to shake violently again and Hermione held him even tighter silently praying that he would wake up soon. She was going to lose her mind if he didn't open his eyes soon. Watching him suffer in his sleep for hours had almost been worse than watching him fall unconscious next to her after they had jumped out of the window of Bathilda Bagshot's house.

The tears had long ago dried on her cheeks while she tried to take care of him the best way she could. But she was about to go mad, she couldn't stand his cries of pain any more, she just couldn't watch him suffer like that and wait.

"Please… wake up…" she pleaded again, new tears falling down her cheeks "Wake up Harry…" Hermione whispered unable to produce a louder sound. She couldn't take it anymore… she'd never been so worried in her whole life.

Harry's body arched in pain once more while the images on his mind held him prisoner.

"Avada Kedavra!"

And then he broke. He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he must hide himself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the child was trapped screaming, but far away ... far away ... "No," he moaned. The snake rustled on the filthy, cluttered floor, and he had killed the boy, and yet he was the boy ...

"Harry, it's okay, wake up, wake up!"

He was Harry… Harry, not Voldemort… and the thing that was rustling was not a snake…

He opened his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, tears of relief dancing around her eyes. "Do you feel all - all right?"

"Yes," he lied.

He was in the tent, lying on one of the lower bunks beneath a heap of blankets. He could tell that it was almost dawn by the stillness and quality of the cold, flat light beyond the canvas ceiling. He was drenched in sweat; he could feel it on the sheets and blankets.

"We got away…"

"Yes…" Hermione assured him and she couldn't stop herself from touching his face "We're alright, you're alright" she whispered to herself and Harry closed his eyes at the contact, he still felt confused and a little numb, pain crossing his whole body.

Before he could ask her anything, Harry felt his best friend throw herself into his chest and hug him. Suddenly she was crying against his chest and Harry didn't need to understand anything to wrap his weak arms around her.

"Why are you crying?" he asked confused, holding her against his body.

"You scared me" she mumbled letting the fear she had been fighting to keep in check while he had been unconscious "You've been shouting and moaning and…" she couldn't finish.

"I'm fine" he promised her and she nodded against his chest, still hugging him as tightly as she could "We're safe"

Harry's memory was a blur, he wanted to ask her what had happened, but the relief of having her safely in his arms and being alone with her in the tent that had became their refuge for the last months seemed more important and he remained silent, revelling in the feel of her body against his. Having her in his arms, he felt glad to have cheated death again.

They held each other for some long minutes until Hermione regained control over herself and finally pulled away, wiping the last tears off of her face.

"I'm sorry…" she said slightly ashamed "You've been like that for hours… I didn't know… I thought…" she struggled to finish her sentences, the relief of having him back still getting the best of her.

"You saved me…" he said. It wasn't a question, he knew he should be dead.

Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes shining when they met his.

"What happened to me, why were you so worried?" he asked again.

"I couldn't get the Horcrux off you," Hermione said, and he knew she wanted to change the subject. "It was stuck, stuck to your chest. You've got a mark; I'm sorry, I had to use a Severing Charm to get it away. The snake hit you too, but I've cleaned the wound and put some dittany on it ..."

He pulled the sweaty T-shirt he was wearing away from himself and looked down. There was a scarlet oval over his heart where the locket had burned him. He could also see the half healed puncture marks to his forearm.

Hermione swallowed hard at the sight of his bare chest, after months living together in a tent, she had seen him with little clothes many times, but the sight still had a strong effect over her.

"What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere?" this time it was her turn to ask and she desperately needed to distract herself from Harry's bare chest, asking him what had happened seemed to be the best way to focus on something else.

"I don't kn…" but before he could finish the words, the images hit him.

The first thing that came back to his memory was the snake coming out of Bathilda's dead body. He remembered the pain, such a strong pain that he felt he had died. He remembered the screams, the fear. He remembered being Voldemort, his connection with the dark wizard stronger than ever. And then it all came back. He saw it all again from Voldemort's eyes. He and his father playing together in their small house at Godric's Hollow, Lily talking to them… the last moment he shared with his parents before Voldemort broke into their home... His parent's vioces burnt in his memory.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry! Please. I'll do anything…"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Harry!" Hermione called worried when she saw his lost gaze, tears starting to lick silently from his eyes.

"He killed them" he whispered looking at her.

"What?"

"I… I saw him… I saw the moment he killed them" he confessed "My father told my mother to run with me, he killed him without even flinching" he told her with a lump in his throat.

"Oh, Harry… I'm so sorry…"

"My mother…" he closed his eyes in pain "I can't get her voice out of my head. Pleading him to kill her instead of me…"

She could feel his pain like if it was her own and she didn't hesitate before approaching her best friend.

Harry allowed her to wrap her arms around him but for a long moment, but he didn't return the hug. Her mother's cries repeating on his head like the worst nightmare.

"He laughed before he killed my father" Harry whispered, his voice nothing more than a cracking soft sound filled with hate.

"I'm sorry" Hermione told him again, this time she wouldn't let him go. She clinged to him hoping that somehow her love for him would be enough to shoote his pain.

And after some minutes, he finally hugged her back. He held held on to her and soon the silent tears were replaced by a stronger kind of cry.

Hermione held him as close as she could, her hands making contact with the bare skin of his back and they remained tangled in that embrace for what felt like an infinite moment. When his tears finally stopped falling, he held her even tighter and he managed to find her eyes. Harry's shining green eyes met Hermione's and they lost themselves in each other's gaze for a moment.

They both felt something shifting between them, they had been nearly killed again and yet they had survived. Sharing things like that isn't something one can experience without consequences.

"We're alive" she whispered lost in the magic of the moment.

Having witnessed death more than once, Harry understood what she ment with those words. They were still alive against all odds, and in that moment, it felt like something to be thankful for.

"We're alive" he echoed, his hand went to Hermione's face on her own will and he found himself wiping her tears away.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Only when she opened her eyes again, Harry realised how close they were.

"I love you" the words rolled off her tongue without permission, but once she'd said them, she didn't try to take them back.

For a second, he was shocked. Then he wondered what she had meant. She loved him… but did she love him as a brother, or as a man?

"Harry…" she called him, her hands coming up to hold his face "I… love… you" she said the words again, her Gryffindor courage speaking for her.

Something in her words didn't leave room for questions this time and in spite of all the terrible things that were happening around them, Harry felt a smile creeping its way into his face. Hermione mirrored his expression almost instantly and they we both suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling they had almost forgotten.

Bliss.

For the first time in a long time, they felt truly glad to be alive.

"You should say…" Hermione started to speak but he interrupted her.

"Shh" he whispered looking deeply into her eyes "Close your eyes"

Captivated by the intensity of Harry's green eyes and completely hypnotized by the moment, she did as he said and her eyes fell closed.

Harry took a second to watch her, her flawless complexion, the shadows under her eyes, her cheeks stained with tears… she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. They were a mess, yet she was perfect for him.

"I love you" he whispered so softly that Hermione almost thought she had imagined it, but his actions soon confirmed the meaning of his whispered words.

Hermione felt something she had thought she'd never feel: Harry's lips on her face, kissing away every trace of tears before finally reaching his final destination. Their lips met for the first time in the softest of kisses. A few seconds that felt like an eternity.

"Everything's going to change…" Hermione whispered against Harry's lips, her eyes still closed, her lips still brushing against his when she spoke.

Harry smiled, a wide charming grin, and pulled her closer. This time, his lips crashed against hers unleashing the feelings he had been hiding for so long. Hermione kissed him back with equal fervor and they fell back into the small bed, the horrors of the war around them absolutely eclipsed for the first time in too long.

Everything's going to change.

Hermione's words echoed in their minds and they smiled against each other's lips between kisses. Nothing had ever felt so right.