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Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the idea.

The next morning, Harry had almost forgotten the night before. He turned his head towards Ron's bed and…felt the immediate disappointment sink into his stomach. Ron was still gone, and his empty bed was like a stab in the heart. He closed his eyes tightly, half wishing he could go back to sleep and wake up again and Ron would be here, but that wasn't exactly a practical thought. He let out a small sigh, turning to look over at Hermione, but her bed was empty too. His heart plummeted through his stomach, all the way down to the floor. Had she left him too? To be with Ron? He sat up quickly, a little bit too sharply, hitting his head hard on the little post beside his bed.

"Ouch!"

Hermione came in through the entrance flaps then, arms laden with potatoes. She gave him a half smile. A clearly watery smile. Her eyes were red and puffy. She'd been crying again. But the relief at seeing her…to know that she was still here…still with him, was too much to explain.

"Are you alright?"

Harry reached up a hand to rub the back of his head and nodded. "Yeah…I'm alright. What've you got there?"

Hermione looked down at her arms and then smiled again. "Breakfast." And then she walked over to the kitchen area of the tent.

That was the most they spoke for the next week and a half. Breakfast's were spent in silence as well as lunches and dinners. And they both went to bed much earlier than was necessary almost every night. Harry had grown accustomed to hearing Hermione cry herself to sleep every night, he himself couldn't get to sleep until the sobs turned into quiet breathing and he knew she was finally asleep. They took it in turns to wear the horcrux, though Harry volunteered himself for it much more than Hermione. He didn't mind. She was already depressed enough without wearing that foul thing around her neck. Not that he wasn't, the horcurx certainly wasn't doing him any favors, but better him than Hermione.

It was raining again by the end of the week and it was Harry's sixth night in a row wearing the horcrux. Hermione was curled up in her bed, reading her beedle the bard, but Harry suspected that she hadn't turned the page in a few hours. Reading, without really seeing. This bothered him. How were they ever going to succeed on this impossible mission without Ron, if Hermione couldn't figure out whatever hidden message Dumbledore had left them in that book?

It was obvious he'd been right about Hermione's fake reading when he heard her start crying. Again. Soft rattling sobs as if she didn't want him to notice, but how could he not?

"Hermione. He's gone. It's done."

She looked up at him sniffling. "I know…" She whispered, her voice still managing to shake.

His heart was pounding and quite suddenly he was angry. So angry that he didn't quite know what to with himself.

"So stop CRYING! It won't bring him back! It won't! And I can't stand the sound of you SOBBING any longer!"

Hermione blinked up at him, clearly shocked.

"I'm…I'm s-sorry, Harry…I…"

He shook his head quickly. "Forget about it. Ron's the only thing that matters to you. Is that it?"

Hermione looked at him mouth open slightly, she shook her head. "No…that's not….no. That's…not true."

"Why didn't you just go with him? You aren't doing me much good here, all you do is cry and cry…"

"Harry, take it off." She said suddenly, breathing in sharp gasps.

"Excuse me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The locket. Take it off. Take it off right now."

He stared at her for a moment and then unclasped the locket, throwing it across the room to her. It was instant, all the heat from the anger left his body at once and he felt normal again.

He let out a soft breath, looking up at her. "Hermione I…"

She shook her head just a little. "Don't. It's alright. I know."

"No…It's not alright…I shouldn't have…I…" He closed his eyes, sighing.

Hermione stood up, seizing the locket from the floor and clasping it around her own neck. "Harry. Don't beat yourself about it. It wasn't your fault…I'll…I'll take a turn for awhile." She nodded, giving him the smallest trace of a smile.

"Hermione? I really…don't have a plan."

She looked up at him tilting her head slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"Ron." He saw the pain flash across her eyes when he said the name. "He was right. I don't have a plan. Dumbledore…left me…virtually nothing…I…I know as much as you do and…I'm lost. We have one horcrux and NO idea how to destroy it. And I…haven't got a clue what the next step is."

Hermione sucked in her bottom lip, chewing on it for a moment, thinking. She sat down on the bed next to him, looking him in the eye.

"Who are you?" She asked softly.

"What?" He replied, rolling his eyes a little. "Hermione..come on…"

"No. Answer the question. Who are you?"

He let out an exasperated sigh, shrugging. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Right." She said firmly. "You're Harry Potter. Now, where did you sleep until you were eleven?"

Harry looked up at her, blinking. "Hermione…where is this going?"

"Answer the question." She said not taking her eyes off him.

He blew out a breath, "In a cupboard. Under the stairs at my Aunt and Uncle's house."

"Mmm. Correct. When you were eleven, at the end of the school year, what did you do?"

He looked away from her, bottom lip trembling. "I…saved the sorcerers stone from Lord Voldemort."

"And when you were twelve?"

"I killed a basilisk."

"Thirteen?"

"I fought of dementors."

She reached out, taking his hand squeezing it tightly.

"Fourteen?"

"I competed in the triwizard tournament."

"Mhm. And?"

"Faced Lord Voldemort."

"For the third time."

Harry let out a breath. "So what? I did those things but…"

"And when you were fifteen, Harry, you were possessed, and…you started the D.A., and handled Umbridge… and then when you were sixteen, Harry, when you were sixteen, you saved all our lives again. And, you can't possibly be telling, that after all that. You still think you don't know what you're doing. You still think it's all been luck. You still think you're not special. That you don't have what it takes to make it through this. "

Harry shook his head, "I didn't even know what the sorcerer's stone WAS until I met you. Couldn't have figured out that it was a basilisk, without you. You were there with me with the dementors, you helped me with every aspect of the tournament. You got Rita Skeeter to write that article to get everyone off my back, Not to mention the D.A. was YOUR idea and you were just as brave as I was in that battle last year."

She nodded just a tiny bit. "And I'm right here with you now." She reached a hand up to touch his cheek. "We can do this. You and me. We can do this."

He leaned into her touch, nodding just a little. "I hope so."

"Well, I know so. We'll be fine. Just fine. Stop doubting yourself."

He pulled away from her, looking down at the tent floor.

"Who are you?" She repeated, firmly, almost angrily.

"Harry Potter." He mumbled.

She nodded. "Harry Potter doesn't run away from something because it didn't go as planned. He just tries harder. That's the Harry Potter I know. That's the Harry Potter, I love."

It was like time stopped for a whole half a second. He looked up locking eyes with her, trying to read her.

"You love Harry Potter?" He said softly, a little grin taking over his face.

She blinked, as if just realizing what she'd said allowed and then blushed a deep magenta color. "I…I…Yes. Harry, of course I love you. I…you're my best friend..I…" She shook her head, flustered. "Just…go to bed, Harry." She said, standing up and crossing to her own bed.

Harry didn't stop thinking about her words all night.