She sat staring into the darkness that extended beyond the ward. She could hear Harry tossing and turning in the sleeping bag behind her. It was his turn to sleep, something that was precious these days and yet neither of them had been able to. Not since Ron had left. She poked the fire in front of her and watched the wisps of flame and smoke float into the sky and disappear.
"Maybe you should let me take this one," Harry sat beside her and she rested her head on his shoulder as his arm laid protectively across her back. "You've been out here for hours now anyways its time to sleep a bit before we move tomorrow."
"He isn't going to come back, is he?" she asked in a whisper
"I'm not sure Hermione, truly I'm not." She felt the anger that she had been feeling start in her stomach and pull to the surface.
"I cannot put into words just how much I want to stab him right now. IF he was to ever comeback, I think I would just. Ugh"
"You could always draw it out." Harry said handing her a stick from the pile. She laughed then. For the first time in a long time the laughter came out and she let it.
"He'll come back. When he does you can stab him, or hug him. Doesn't matter which one it is to me. But he'll come back." Harry stared into the fire this time and she watched the hard set in his jaw take place. She nodded and rose to get some sleep. They both needed him, she realized, as she got into the pallet. He would come back. And then she could kill him.