Harry woke with start a few hours later, he assumed, given that it was still dark outside. For a few moments he had forgotten what happened with Ron and, oddly worse, his argument with Hermione afterwards. He hoped that it had all just been a horrible dream, that in a few hours he would be enduring another one of Ron and Hermione's spats. Hell, he'd have been happy to let Ron listen to that blasted newscast all day if it meant he hadn't left them. But when he turned his head, he saw Ron's empty bed, his things gone. Sighing heavily, he jumped down from his own bed and stretched. He'd nearly made it to the kitchenette when a clear voice made him jump, wand out.

"Morning," Hermione said from the table.

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked, knowing the answer. She shook her head absently.

"No, but I made breakfast. There's tea in the kettle."

He scuttered over to the kitchen, grabbing cold eggs and a mug of tea, picking at the food distractedly. He's gone, he told himself. Ron left you, and he left Hermione. He's not coming back. You'll have to do it yourselves. The enchantments Hermione had weaved over the campsites meant that it would be impossible for Ron to find them even if he did try to return. And harry surprised himself by not wanting Ron to come back. What would stop him from leaving again if it got rough?

"I thought about what you said," Hermione muttered, sighing when Harry shook his head.

"No, you were right. Talking's never really been my strongest point. No need to get into it now. We'll work on the hunt and leave it at that. Speaking of, we need to pack up and move," he finished, eating the last few bites of food before standing.

She gripped his wrist tightly and when he turned, he saw tears shimmering in her eyes. "Please," she whispered. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say, 'Mione?"

"What were you going to say yesterday before I stopped you?"

"I don – I don't know. Just, anything, I suppose. Ron and I – we hardly ever talk to each other anymore, not really. After the tournament, something changed. I didn't feel like I could trust him the same way. I guess I turned to you more after that. I just – I don't want you to leave, too. So, I thought – maybe if we just talked to each other more, even if it's about nothing that matters, you know?"

"So…you just want to – what, have a normal conversation?"

He nodded.

"In the middle of the woods, while we're searching for horcruxes?"

Another nod.

She looked at him for second before bursting into laughter. Harry honestly had no clue what was going on. For a moment he thought Hermione had finally gone round the twist. Eventually, she was able to stifle her giggles and calm herself.

"Alright then. So, Ron doesn't like talking, period. He never – ugh, he's just so daft! I don't think we told you, but after Dumbledore's funeral, I made him promise not to leave, that neither of us would abandon you. Did he tell you?"

Harry shook his head. "Why?"

"Because you need us, Harry. Or, I thought you did, I suppose. I don't know anymore," she said miserably.

"No, I mean - why make him promise? Did you think he'd leave?"

"Honestly? Yes. I had a feeling. He's so used to comfort and ease, I knew he wouldn't be as resilient to 'roughing it' as you. I'm surprised I'm doing as well as I am."

"And how are you doing?" he asked hesitantly. He didn't want to overstep, but he couldn't afford for Hermione to be distracted. If she needed to vent, he'd deal with it.

"I'm furious. I thought – he seemed like he'd changed, like that jealous streak had finally disappeared. I know the horcrux makes your worst thoughts come to the forefront of your mind, but the things he said… they didn't just come out of nowhere, Harry. The horcrux can't create thoughts for you, they were things he was already thinking."

"Right," he said awkwardly, "I meant – I thought the two of you…?"

"Oh," she said, equally as awkward. "Oh! No. I thought, maybe, for a while last year. But no. Ginny told me he'd been reading some nonsense book about 'charming witches' and we had a monumental row about it. After that it I made it clear to him that nothing would come from trying."

"Merlin. Alright then. I guess we hadn't really talked about it since you set those birds on him last year."

"No, not really. We didn't have a lot of time to talk about much, to be honest. Speaking of, what happened with you and Ginny?"

"I, er – I don't really know. It was really great at first. I spent all that time looking at her with Corner and Dean and being a jealous idiot. But when we got together all we did was snog. We never really talked about much. Ron didn't help at all. I thought it might be better since I'm his best mate, you know. Like, he knew he could trust me. But if anything, it just made it worse. When we decided against returning to Hogwarts, I told her that we couldn't be together anymore. Partly to try and keep her safe, but also because it just didn't – it didn't feel right. It felt like she was still in love with the Boy-Who-Lived, not me."

Hermione kept silent and just looked at him in something akin to wonder.

"What?" he asked defiantly. "Have I got something on my face?"

"I think," she said slowly, "that's the most you've ever said at one time that wasn't a speech about You-Know-Who or an argument. Anyway, I talked to Ginny about that years ago, you know. I thought she had it all figured out. Shame, really."

"I dunno. Gin's great, really. But she's so competitive about everything. Even snogging felt like we were constantly trying to one-up each other. It never felt comfortable."

"I thought that would be something you'd like in a girl."

"No, the opposite, I think. You know me, I like things quiet. Peaceful. Loud and boisterous is about as far from what I like as you can get. For what it's worth, I was surprised that you were even interested in Ron at all. He wasn't, er, very nice to you, I mean."

"No, he really wasn't," she all but whispered. Harry could tell the conversation was dragging and decided to end it before either of them could get too upset. It wasn't awkward or jilted like he expected it to be. He realized that he shouldn't have been surprised. Hermione had always been easy to talk to when she wasn't being her adamant and domineering alter ego he called The Scholar.

"Actually," he said, "That's something else I wanted to talk about before we go. I was thinking yesterday – "

"Never a good sign."

"Oh, shove off. Anyway, I was thinking, and I realized that I haven't been the best friend to you. Hold on, let me finish. I mean, sure, I've saved your life a few times. But you've also saved mine more than I can count. I wouldn't have made it to Quirrell in the first place without you. You figured out the Basilisk, you had the Time-Turner, you helped me with the First Task, the Department of Mysteries. You warned me about the Firebolt and Snape's book. You've been there from the beginning, and I spent most of that time taking Ron's side in almost everything. So, I wanted to let you know that that's all done. Not that it'll be much of an issue anyway… But yeah, it's just us two now, so I'll have your back, you know that. No matter what."

Whatever reaction Harry was expecting, it wasn't Hermione bursting into tears and wrapping her arms around his middle. However, after six years of these hugs he no longer was surprised by them and didn't hesitate to reciprocate, holding her tightly until she stopped shaking and cleared her throat. She pulled away but kept her hands on his chest, smiling brightly up at him.

"Thank you, Harry. You were right, by the way. It's nice to just talk sometimes. We should do this more often."

"I agree," she said happily. "You ready to get packed up?"

She nodded and they got started. Hermione was as quick and clinical as ever, rounding up books and supplies by hand while Harry took stock of the camp. He went to check the perimeter and began to undo their protective enchantments as she took the tent down and stuffed it into her beaded bag. With a flick of her wand, the fire pit they'd made vanished and the ground they'd covered looked undisturbed, as if they had never been there at all. There was no dawdling, no waste of time or effort. She said they were ready to go, and when he agreed she grabbed his hand and Disapparated, reappearing on a windswept hillside covered in dogwood trees.

Rather than immediately set up camp when they arrived, Hermione suggested that they set up the protective wards together to save time and energy. Despite the cold knot of regret and anger in his chest, he couldn't help but be amazed that Hermione was taking Ron's departure so well. He decided then and there that if she could tough it out, so could he. Hermione's advice proved useful after all, for when she tried to cast a general silencing charm, Harry suggested the Muffliato charm as well, to her agreement.

They didn't discuss Ron much over the next few days, but they talked about nearly everything else. Hermione confided in him that she was nervous about her Obliviating her parents, fearing that she might've gotten the spell wrong and that she might not be able to reverse it when the war ended. Harry responded in kind, unburdening himself of his regrets over Sirius' death and his fears that he wouldn't survive the war at all. They had a particularly testy conversation about how they should approach fighting Death Eaters, Harry firmly in the camp of fighting fire with fire while Hermione advocated mercy wherever possible. In the end, they agreed to disagree with a promise to do whatever it took to complete their task and protect one another. Harry would also bring out the Marauder's Map while Hermione read by the fire, hoping that their friends that had returned to the school were safe.

Due to what he had to guess was Hermione's influence, he began reading through the books Hermione had packed with her. And not perusing or flicking through them as he had done in school, but actually reading them. He tore through them, drinking in the information like a parched man in need of water. Hermione congratulated him facetiously when he declared that he'd finally read Hogwarts, A History, and he felt both elated and disappointed that he'd rediscovered his love of learning.

Neither of them had the faintest idea where the Sword of Gryffindor could possibly be. Hermione posited several possible locations, each as unlikely as the last, and Harry racked his brains trying to remember every conversation he'd ever had with Dumbledore, searching for any clues as to where the headmaster may have hidden it. There were several moments where Harry felt himself truly resentful of Dumbledore. Ron's words played in his mind in a continuous feedback loop. We thought you knew what you were doing… We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do… We thought you had a real plan!

"You know, I reckon Ron was right about one thing," Harry suggested one night over dinner. "Dumbledore left me with next to nothing to go on. We've got one horcrux with no way to get rid of it, and we're no closer to finding the others as we were a week ago. Hell, even a month ago."

Hermione looked pensive, but a hopelessness had begun to envelop Harry, swathing him in doubt and shaking his self-confidence to the core. He felt as though he and Hermione were meandering, that their hunt would ultimately prove useless to the war effort. His only comfort was that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Hermione would stick by him throughout, and he was immensely grateful for her unwavering confidence in him.

"I've been thinking about that, actually. How did you summon the sword in the Chamber?" she asked.

"Well, when Fawkes showed up, I had just yelled at Riddle's shade that Dumbledore was the greatest sorcerer in the world, not him. When Riddle released the basilisk, I ran and shoved the hat over my eyes. It just appeared out of nowhere, really. Bonked me on the top of the head. I think I still have the knot, actually," he finished with a grin, rubbing the crown of his head.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Right, well, my theory is that the sword requires either a show of loyalty or an act of true bravery to be summoned."

"Well, let's just go find another basilisk to fight, yeah? Shouldn't be too hard."

"Prat."

"I'm really not sure, 'Mione. It could be in a vault in Gringotts or still in the school somewhere. Maybe in the Room of Requirement? Or it could be anywhere else, really. There's no way of knowing. You'd think with what little literature there is written about horcruxes, some of the texts would have described how to destroy them."

Harry reckoned that Phineas Nigellus was a bit of an arse, but he was company. Hermione had a theory that buttering him up with praise would make him open up and let information slip, and she was proven right when he revealed that there was something of a relentless mutiny against Snape at the school. Harry felt a surge of pride towards what had to be the remnants of the D.A. still embedded at Hogwarts. However, Phineas' tenure as their unknowing spy met its end when he started asking leading questions about their activities and location, and they were forced to imprison his portrait in her beaded bag.