"Hermione," Harry whispered to the brunette on his shoulder. "Are you awake?"
"Mmph," she answered, wrinkling her nose.
"Are you sleepy?" he asked again, rephrasing.
"Sort of," came the less muffled reply, as she began to life her head.
"Shh, don't move," he whispered to her. He put his arms around her. "Just relax," he said soothingly. He pulled her gently into his lap, holding her safely in his arms. Her head lolled onto his shoulder again.
The fire was making him drowsy. As Hermione rearranged herself, it struck Harry suddenly how funny and compact Hermione was. He laughed, softly.
"What?" Hermione asked, her voice very muffled.
"You're like a cat," he chortled sleepily.
Hermione turned her head to look up at him.
"You're an okay kid, Harry Potter," she told him. "You're the hero we need."
Harry slid his eyes and looked back down at her. "Really?" he asked. "You think so?" Hermione nodded against him. He looked back into the fire, then, almost silently, "I hope so."
"I know so," Hermione said. Harry looked over at the top of her fluffy brown head, unsure whether she had heard his last comment to not.
They remained there, peacefully, for a while, Harry losing himself in the room of the simmering embers, Hermione dozing angelically in his arms.
"Hermione," he asked after a spell.
She nodded to show she was listening.
"You said you were my family..."
She nodded again.
"How're we related?"
There was a two-second pause. Hermione slowly lifted her head and looked at him. "What?"
"You and me," he clarified, staring adamantly into the fire. "What's our relationship?"
"We're best friends," she said at once, uncertainly.
"Is that all?" he asked her, addressing the glowing embers in the fireplace.
"isn't that what you want? Is a best friend not enough for you?" She was more awake now, leaning forward to look at him.
"Well..." he said, appearing to be deeply considering something.
"What?" she asked, watching him curiously, while distant, hesitant anxiety built somewhere within her.
Now he looked at her. Without another word, his eyes closed and he kissed her. Gently, sweetly, quickly. But truly. He was staring into the fire, the embers, or maybe something else, making his cheeks glow rosy. Silence reigned. "I know what you mean," she said at last, speaking to the fire. Harry looked over, and waited for her to meet his eyes. When she did, he waited for certainty to appear in her eyes. And when he found it, he kissed her again. "So how are we related?" she asked him. "Are we best friends still?" she asked between kissed. "Close friends with benefits? Boyfriend-girlfriend? A couple?" He kissed her once more, consideringly, and then, "I think we're us. Just us. We don't need a fancy title to know who or what we are. We're Harry and Hermione. We're best friend. Friends who love—" "—who love each other," Hermione put in. "Yeah," Harry agreed. She rested her head against his, and he held her, and they watched the embers glow and flare and fade. "Do you still miss your parents?" she asked. "Yeah," he said after a time of thought. "I always will." "I thought so," she said. "Are you cold?" he asked suddenly. "Not in the least."
THE END
"Mmph," she answered, wrinkling her nose.
"Are you sleepy?" he asked again, rephrasing.
"Sort of," came the less muffled reply, as she began to life her head.
"Shh, don't move," he whispered to her. He put his arms around her. "Just relax," he said soothingly. He pulled her gently into his lap, holding her safely in his arms. Her head lolled onto his shoulder again.
The fire was making him drowsy. As Hermione rearranged herself, it struck Harry suddenly how funny and compact Hermione was. He laughed, softly.
"What?" Hermione asked, her voice very muffled.
"You're like a cat," he chortled sleepily.
Hermione turned her head to look up at him.
"You're an okay kid, Harry Potter," she told him. "You're the hero we need."
Harry slid his eyes and looked back down at her. "Really?" he asked. "You think so?" Hermione nodded against him. He looked back into the fire, then, almost silently, "I hope so."
"I know so," Hermione said. Harry looked over at the top of her fluffy brown head, unsure whether she had heard his last comment to not.
They remained there, peacefully, for a while, Harry losing himself in the room of the simmering embers, Hermione dozing angelically in his arms.
"Hermione," he asked after a spell.
She nodded to show she was listening.
"You said you were my family..."
She nodded again.
"How're we related?"
There was a two-second pause. Hermione slowly lifted her head and looked at him. "What?"
"You and me," he clarified, staring adamantly into the fire. "What's our relationship?"
"We're best friends," she said at once, uncertainly.
"Is that all?" he asked her, addressing the glowing embers in the fireplace.
"isn't that what you want? Is a best friend not enough for you?" She was more awake now, leaning forward to look at him.
"Well..." he said, appearing to be deeply considering something.
"What?" she asked, watching him curiously, while distant, hesitant anxiety built somewhere within her.
Now he looked at her. Without another word, his eyes closed and he kissed her. Gently, sweetly, quickly. But truly. He was staring into the fire, the embers, or maybe something else, making his cheeks glow rosy. Silence reigned. "I know what you mean," she said at last, speaking to the fire. Harry looked over, and waited for her to meet his eyes. When she did, he waited for certainty to appear in her eyes. And when he found it, he kissed her again. "So how are we related?" she asked him. "Are we best friends still?" she asked between kissed. "Close friends with benefits? Boyfriend-girlfriend? A couple?" He kissed her once more, consideringly, and then, "I think we're us. Just us. We don't need a fancy title to know who or what we are. We're Harry and Hermione. We're best friend. Friends who love—" "—who love each other," Hermione put in. "Yeah," Harry agreed. She rested her head against his, and he held her, and they watched the embers glow and flare and fade. "Do you still miss your parents?" she asked. "Yeah," he said after a time of thought. "I always will." "I thought so," she said. "Are you cold?" he asked suddenly. "Not in the least."
THE END