*These characters do not belong to me. All credit of plot goes to J.K. Rowling*

"He's gone," Harry heard Hermione whisper from her bunk. He ignored her. She had been like this for days. Then, "Harry?"

After a moment, he responded, "Hermione?"

"What's the point of this? I know the cause but," she paused, "Why does it have you be us? To be you?"

"The prophecy," he said bluntly.

"I know," she said quietly, "I can't help but ask why."

He slid off his bed and crossed the tent to the table. He took out his wand and produced water to pour into a cup.

"Not everything happens for a reason," he said after some thought, "But ever since Dumbledore told me, it feels there is a reason. Like a reward at the end of the task. You-Know-Who will be dead."

"You'll have Ginny back."

"I try not to think of her as much as I do," he admitted, "If we die for this, she needs to be able to move on. I'd rather die out here when we haven't talked because then it won't hurt as much."

"You have no idea," Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, "It would be worse. She would hate herself for letting you go. You need to get back for her."

There was a silent moment.

"What about Ron?"

"He's gone," she repeated. She walked over to the table and sat next him. She made the water vanish.

"Can you make those birds again?" he asked, "From last year."

"Are you trying to do everything to remind me of him?" she sighed. She produced water to go back into the cup.

"Sorry," Harry answered, "I'm sorry for a lot of things 'Mione."

"It wasn't your fault," she answered. The acceptance lingered in the air for a few minutes. They took it in turns to pour water into the cup and vanishing it. Harry messed it up a few times. His mind wasn't focused on it like Hermione's was.

"I have moments," he admitted, "Where I remember where I was seven years ago."

"What do you mean?" Hermione answered softly.

"The biggest problem in my life was getting bullied by Dudley and getting locked under the stairs," he mused, "I had no idea that I'd be doing anything like this."

"I know what you mean," she comforted, "When I was ten, I was planning out comprehensive and what muggle job I'd have."

"What did you dream of?" Harry asked, a smile forming.

"I told my parents a dentist," she smiled, "But I wanted to be a writer."

"I didn't expect that," Harry laughed, "You still could. You could write about a school called Hogwarts where witches and wizards go to learn magic."

"Imagine that. I could talk about the Philosopher's Stone and explain how I turned back and went to Dumbledore while my friend battled his defence against the dark arts teacher," Hermione laughed, "But beat him!"

"It wasn't as exciting as you make it out to be," he confessed, "All I had to do was touch him. Love wins again."

"Love always wins," Hermione mused, "Imagine us if we hadn't gone to Hogwarts."

"We would never have met. You'd be a name on the paper of an international bestseller. I don't know what I'd be doing."

"You have too much faith in me. You'd be a humanities student," she giggled.

"Are you mocking me, Hermione?" Harry said in a semi-posh voice.

"I'm sorry, you'd still be a college dropout," she joked.

"Much better," he answered in his normal voice. They stayed quiet for ages. They stopped making water. They just thought, together but minds apart. It was peaceful.

"I'll take watch," Hermione said after ten minutes like this, "You need to relax. Take a bath or something."

"Thanks," he said, "I think I'll just sleep though. Shall we move on tomorrow? Somewhere close to muggles."

"Yeah, we're running low on food," she commented.

"Night Hermione," Harry said.

"Goodnight Harry."

A/N

Just something short based on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I just imagined a conversation like this and wrote it down. Let me know if I should develop it or do another chapter. I like the idea, but I don't have a plot yet. Thank you, anyway :-)