- - This is an interlude rather than a chapter because I love procrastinating.

Chapter 9 - I'm Not Living, I'm Just Killing Time (Interlude)

"Don't forget the wand."

"Jesus Christ —" Hermione hissed, clutching at her chest and spinning around. It was three in the morning. Why the hell was Luna up?

"I'm sorry that you have to leave, Hermione." Luna said. "I did enjoy our time together."

Hermione, still trying to calm her heart, plopped down on the bed in exhaustion — which was littered by (what was left of) her belongings. She appreciated Luna's sentiment, it would have seemed superficial coming from anyone else.

"Sorry if I woke you." Hermione mumbled in apology while rubbing at her eyes.

She had thought their leaving would be smooth and seamless. It was one of the times that she had actually agreed with Griphook on anything. Leaving at such an early hour would leave little room for interference. Of course Luna would be the outlier in their plan.

Luna shook her head. "I don't mind."

Hermione didn't feel the need to respond, conversations at this hour never warranted such formalities.

They sat in silence for a moment before Luna spoke again. "Do you mind it much?"

Hermione, far too close to experiencing mild dissociation, looked at her in confusion. "Do I mind what?"

"What happens, with you three."

It was an extremely simplistic way to put it, but Hermione was glad she did. Specifics would only drown her.

"I don't mind it anymore." Hermione said casually, casting her eyes toward the ground. Years of responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Luna tilted her head to the side. "But shouldn't you?" she asked sincerely.

Hermione looked back up at Luna and let out a humorless laugh.

"Oh I do, I just say I don't." It's easier that way.

Luna only nodded at her admission and Hermione felt silly for laughing.

"I do hope you find what you're looking for, Hermione." she said, retreating back to her bed. The silence grew quickly and in that moment Hermione truly felt the arbitrariness of the past few moments. Maybe even the past few weeks.

She sat on the edge of her own bed for awhile longer, delaying (only for a minute) her departure from Fleur's room. It was much too dark to fully appreciate, and she no longer felt the warmth she had always felt staying in there.

Hermione almost resented Fleur, for saying those things, right when she was to leave. It wasn't her fault though, really. She couldn't help but feel that Fleur had got the short end of the stick. Fleur didn't deserve this. It was probably better not to think about it.

Gathering her things, she left the room without a second glance.

Griphook was talking to Harry a few paces out while she reconstructed Ron's face.

"Don't make me too ugly, 'Mione."

A quick exhale left her nose in place of a laugh. "I won't."

Hermione felt her concentration slipping as the night wind blew both their hair in their faces. She shifted her footing in the sand.

"Do you ever think about what comes after all this?" Ron asked while Hermione shaped an unattractive beard.

Not anymore. "Sometimes."

"It's all I think about."

Hermione took in his words. It was comforting to hear someone say it. That they believed there was something more than this.

The wind must have chilled, because she shivered slightly and closed her eyes. The sound of the nearby sea was drowned out by her own thoughts.

"I don't want to die." she admitted. Her voice was almost too soft for him to hear.

Ron pulled her in by her shoulders and she buried her face into his chest, shielding her watering eyes from Harry and Griphook.

"Me neither."

Chapter title inspired by the music of: Radiohead - True Love Waits (if you're listening, the studio version that was released in 2016 fits this chapter more)

- - So are you guys sad yet? Also! I used some of the dialogue from the "We're All In Our Private Traps" scene from Psycho when Hermione is talking with Luna.