The tent seemed cold despite the fire charm that glowed in the lamp on the small dining table. Harry slumped forward, feeling perfectly miserable, even though he wasn't the one wearing the Slytherin locket. It had been three weeks since Ron left and Harry couldn't remember feeling so depressed. For seven long years Ron had always been at his side; he was his best friend, his mate, someone he could talk to about anything. They'd been together through countless brushes with death, survived huge blows that would've ruined any other friendship, stood side-by-side against school bullies, teachers and even their own friends. Now, he was gone and Harry got the feeling that this time he was never coming back. It was like somebody had taken his wand.
As horrible as Harry felt, it was nothing compared to Hermione. He had never seen her like this, not even when their group had broken up in their third year. Not even after the Yule Ball, when she'd gone to bed angry and hurt and confused. She'd barely spoken ever since Ron left. She hardly ate anything but hunks of bread and an occasional nibble of dried meat. She just sat quietly in her bunk, staring at the floor or pretending to read as she let out choked sobs from behind the cover. It didn't help that they were now sharing the locket much more these days. With Ron gone, they could no longer divide the day into shifts of three. Now, they were carrying it for at least half the day. He felt guilty whenever he handed it over; she shouldn't be wearing that thing in this state. He'd told her as much, but she'd insisted on sharing the load, saying that it would be unfair to have Harry be the only one burdened. So, they each took their turns; Harry got angry when he wore it and Hermione retreated into her grief.
With a heavy sigh, Harry lifted himself up from the table and slowly drifted into the common area. Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, eyes red. She hadn't noticed him, staring at the portable radio that sat beside their bunks on a small table. It was a playing a slow tune, a song about loyalty and romance. Harry almost wanted to laugh; these days it almost felt like the universe was out to make their lives more difficult. More miserable.
Hermione gave a small sniffle as the radio finally changed the tune. The song was another slow ballad, but Harry recognized this one. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, he thought. As he remained standing there by the bunk, listening as the song rose into the gospel-esq chorus, he remembered something that Professor Dumbledore had told the school in his after-dinner speech in their third year.
"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times," he'd said, "if one only remembers to turn on the light." He'd been referring to the Dementors, who had stalked the grounds in search of Sirius that year. Harry was tempted to dismiss it as circumstantial advice from a fruitlessly hopeful old man, but then he looked at Hermione's face. He thought about how he hadn't seen her smile since Bill and Fleur's wedding. He thought about how he hadn't smiled since even before that; not since Dumbledore's funeral.
Harry moved to turn up the radio, the low voice of Nick Cave swelling as he sang, filling the common space. Hermione didn't stir, still staring into the radio, as if somewhere inside its wiring and enchantments was the key to being happy again. Harry knelt down to where she sat on the bottom bunk, gingerly removing the locket by the gold chain around her neck. Touching the locket itself always left a burned feeling in his fingertips.
Throwing the locket on the mattress, he took Hermione's hands and lifted her gently to her feet. Harry swung her arms to the music, willing her to pick up on the grove. Hermione seemed unwilling at first, too entranced in the melancholy the locket had put her in. Just as Harry was about to give up and let her go back to sulking, the corners of her mouth twitched up. Her arms started moving along with his. Her feet shuffled to and fro. As the song went on, they seemed to come alive. They went from slowly circling, to spinning each other by the hand. They launched into a silly waltz. Harry even struck a ballet pose that made Hermione giggle for the first time in he didn't know how long. The song began winding down as they feel into each other's arms, rocking back and forth in the embrace. Harry was smiling and his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. Hermione was smiling too and her hands rested on Harry's shoulders and the song faded out.
They still shuffled in place even as the radio filled with empty static. Harry understood; stopping the dance would mean going back to reality. It would mean facing the fact that Ron was gone. That they still had no idea what to do with the horcrux or where to find the other ones. They they would have to put the locket back on and deal with the vices it stirred in them. That they were still on the run from a world that was steadily growing more dangerous. They wanted to stay for just a little while longer. Harry knew it had to end, that they had to move on with life. But maybe this was enough for now. Maybe a simple dance was all it would take for them to get back on their feet. Maybe this one moment of light could help them get through a bit more darkness.