Chapter Thirteen.

'Harry, it's freezing!', Hermione complained. She clasped her arms around herself as she stepped through the front door and into the dark house. Harry, before stepping inside, looked over his shoulder at the empty, snow-covered street. It was dark, and quiet, and there wasn't a sign of disturbance or incoming trouble. Still, Harry double-locked the front door, and though he knew it wouldn't be of much use if anyone came looking, he whispered Colloportus when Hermione had disappeared into the living room.

'I'll get a fire going', Harry said, and he moved past her to the fireplace.

Hermione rubbed her hands together and moved towards Harry's desk, having been attracted by a large leather book laying on top of it. She turned on the table lamp, which emitted a soft, warm orange glow. 'Ins and outs of Aurors', she whispered, running her finger across the book's titlepage. Her eyebrows raised into the air.

'It was a birthday gift from Hagrid', Harry explained, lighting a few, thin pieces of wood aflame. Soon, light spread slowly through the room, and as it gained strength the fire emitted warmth, too.

Hermione opened her mouth. 'It's-', she started, but then there was a loud screech. Hermione screamed and jumped, and Harry spun around, pulling his wand and pointing it, the spell right on his lips.

'What-', Hermione peered over at the dark corner of the room, not having noticed Harry's reaction, and Harry sighed.

'Harry, did you get an owl?'

Harry swallowed and took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat. He nodded, then, and quickly put his wand away. 'Yes, that… that's Merel.' He moved towards her cage, turned on the lamp above it, and smiled apologetically at the tawny owl, who looked at him with accusing yellow eyes. 'I'm sorry, girl', Harry whispered, opening the cage door.

Merel hooted softly and perched herself upon Harry's outstretched arm, spreading her wings wide as if to stretch.

'She hasn't been out all day', Harry said by means of an explanation.

Hermione chuckled softly. 'Well, no wonder. I'd be upset, too.'

Harry walked over to the window by his desk. He opened it wide and stretched out his arm. Merel hooted happily, ruffled her feathers, and disappeared onto the first gust of wind. Harry shut the window after her.

Hermione, meanwhile, had walked closer to the fireplace and was rubbing her gloved hands together.

'It'll heat up soon', Harry apologised.

Hermione nodded, staring deep into the flames.

'C-can I get you anything? Tea?'

She looked over at him and smiled. 'No, actually, I'm just going to heat up for a moment before I head to bed. I'll have to be up early, tomorrow.'

Harry, disappointed that she'd be away from him again so soon, but understanding of the fact that he'd already asked too much of her, nodded and smiled weakly.

As soon as Hermione had gotten warm enough some twenty minutes later, she wished him goodnight and headed upstairs. Harry listened carefully for the shutting of her door, and listened a while longer for any sound of disturbance. When that didn't come, he waited a total of two minutes before he slipped into his front yard.

Harry glanced into the street, which was still dark and abandoned. He then raised his wand, glanced upwards at the sky, and whispered: 'Protego Totalum.' He did the same in the backyard, before murmuring a final 'Fianto Duri.' Except for an almost indetectable haze, there was no indication of a charm having been used, but it was in place, and Harry felt slightly better for it.

He went back inside and upstairs, opened his bedroom window for Merel, undressed, and lay down in bed. He listened again for sounds coming from Hermione's room, but there was only silence. Harry'd thought that having her near him would lessen his nervousness, but the knot in his stomach felt only tighter. He sighed deeply, put his glasses down on his bedside table, and rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead.

He'd hoped that it would all be done. The running, the hiding, the looking over his shoulder. It'd been nearly six months since the Battle, and he still hadn't had a moment where he felt completely and utterly at peace. Harry considered that maybe that type of existence just wasn't for him, and fell asleep after an hour of tossing.

The next morning, Harry found Hermione in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She was already dressed and had her hair pulled together in a loose braid. She smiled warmly at Harry and handed him a cup of tea.

'Thanks', Harry said, and he sat down at the kitchen table. He looked through the large windows and into the white garden, and though he wasn't necessarily looking for anything, he was content to see that there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Not a single branch seemed out of place. He sighed softly, perfectly aware of how foggy his brain felt, and sipped from his tea.

He'd slept poorly. All he could think of, in waking and sleeping, was Hermione, and how he could keep her safe. He couldn't keep her locked up in Godric's Hollow forever, though that seemed like the best possible option. He considered going to Shacklebolt and telling him about what he'd seen, but if someone was coming to hurt Hermione, he didn't want that person to know that he was aware. He'd considered talking to Ron, too, but his friend would probably be too angry to speak with him, or even hear him speak.

Hermione quietly sat down next to him, a cup of tea in one hand, a piece of toast on a plate in the other. Harry noticed the concern in her eyes, and tried his best to smile cheerfully at her.

'What classes do you have today?', he asked, trying to stir the conversation away from his undeniably exhausted appearance. 'Alchemy?'

Hermione frowned and took a long, thoughtful sip from her tea. 'Harry, it's the end of October. Remember? There aren't any classes… we'll be visited by-'

'Wizards and witches from all sorts of wizarding occupations, in preparation of the internships', Harry sighed, lowering his eyes. He should have remembered. It'd been one of the few things Hermione talked about during their hunt for horcruxes, if she ever talked at all. Harry'd heard it dozens of times.

Hermione's frown deepened. 'Yeah. Exactly.'

Harry looked back up at her and smiled. 'Do you know what you'd like to do? For the internship?'

Hermione chuckled, but looked concerned. 'Yes, Harry, the Ministry.'

Another sigh. 'Right, of course. Sorry.'

Hermione put down her tea and studied Harry for a moment. 'Harry', she said finally. 'What's wrong?'

'What? Nothing. Nothing's wrong.'

Hermione looked at him incredulously.

'I'm tired, Hermione, that's all. It's been a long week at the Office.' Harry rubbed his forehead.

'Harry, I'm not thick.'

Now Harry frowned. 'I never said you were. I think you're very smart. Ridiculously smart, even.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at him sternly. 'Tell me what's wrong.'

'Nothing-'

'Harry, for heaven's sake! You basically begged me to come stay with you, you pulled your wand at the sound of your own owl, and I heard you creeping outside last night.' She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and wiped a smear of melted butter from her hand.

'Besides', she continued softly when Harry stayed quiet. 'Your shirt.'

Harry frowned. 'What's with my-', he looked down, then, and noticed the tag sticking out towards his chin. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes in exasperation.

'Come on, Harry', Hermione said, laughing. She reached out and put her hand on Harry's arm, which lay stretched before him on the table. 'You're my best friend', she whispered. 'Whatever it is, I want to help you.'

Harry looked at her, and felt suddenly awful. She had no idea what he knew, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her worry. But she'd know if he lied, and Harry considered for a moment that perhaps she'd be more careful if she knew. So, finally, he nodded, and told her everything he'd seen that morning in the Training Hall.

When he was done, Hermione's tea had gone cold, and the reassuring smile on her face had gone completely.

'I'm sorry', Harry said, as if he were actually to blame.

Hermione took a second and slowly shook her head. She stayed quiet, and finally, minutes later, when Harry began to worry about the frown between her brows staying there permanently, he reached out and softly placed his hand on her shoulder. 'Hermione', he whispered, and she looked up from the table with vacant eyes. 'I'll protect you.'

He hadn't fully figured out what he'd do, but it made sense to him that she'd stay here at Godric's Hollow, and that he'd see her to and from Hogwarts. He'd also thought about consulting Professor McGonagall, as Harry was certain she'd be able to give him advice without anyone else finding out, and maybe offer some means of protection. If Harry couldn't prevent the attack from happening, he could at least prepare.

All Hermione could think about, though, was her parents, Hogwarts, her graduation, her friends, everything she'd worked for so tirelessly, everything she'd tried so hard to retrieve. She felt stunned. Not scared, or angry, or sad, but more… surprised. Everything should have been good by now, right? Everything should be fine. She swallowed hard.

'Harry, do you know for sure that this… attack – will it happen?'

Harry blinked. 'Eh… Shacklebolt said so.'

'Yes, but, is it dependent on my actions and choices? And on yours?'

Harry frowned.

'What you saw was a fact, according to Shacklebolt', Hermione said, and the wheels in her head turned. 'But even facts depend on reality, and what you saw, in that moment, may have only been the future as it seemed in that moment. Maybe now… now that I'm here, now that I know, the facts have changed, so maybe the future's changed.'

Harry had always commended Hermione's intelligence, and it wasn't unusual for him not to immediately understand what she was getting at, but this made absolutely no sense.

'Hermione', he said, looking straight into her eyes. 'This will happen. That's what quid fiet means.'

She looked at him with a look of reproach, looked outside, and suddenly rose from the table.

Harry stood up, too. 'Where are you going?', he called after her as she hurried upstairs.

'To the library!', she called back, and she came down with her coat on and her knitted hat pulled over her hair.

Now?! 'Wh- No, Hermione, this isn't the time!', Harry protested.

Hermione stopped in the hallway and looked at him. 'I'm not going to accept that I'm going to be killed without doing some research, Harry!'

Harry looked at her, stunned, and she moved to the front door.

'Wait, Hermione!' Harry hurried after her. 'At least let me go with you, to make sure-'

'I'm not a child!', Hermione snapped, and she turned around to face him, her eyes dark and angry.

Harry swallowed.

Her look softened, slightly, and Harry noticed something beneath the anger. It wasn't quite sadness, or even fear, but perhaps… uncertainty. 'I can get myself to Hogwarts, at least', she said. 'Please. Trust me.'

Harry knew how she hated to be dependent and underestimated, and though he'd prefer to keep her tied to him at all times until whatever it was that came to get her came to get her, he understood that to do what he wanted would incapacitate Hermione. It'd only force her farther away from him.

He would have nodded, but Hermione did it for him, and soon she was gone, leaving Harry to stare at the front door, still deep in his thoughts.